Ursula, which is justly famous for its groups of Canary Palms, is
a large estate, as yet uncultivated from lack of sufficient water.
Besides the natural vegetation which stands the summer drought, the
owner has collected together many drought-resisting plants, among
which are several natives of Australia. The Golden Wattle seemed quite
at home, though the trees have not yet attained the size they would
in their native country, and small groves of _Eucalyptus Lehmanni_,
with their curious fluffy balls of flower, gave welcome shade, and
Australian salt bushes were being grown as an experiment with a view
to providing a new fodder plant. The stony ground was covered with a
low-growing _Cystus monspeliensis_ closely resembling the variety much
prized in England as _florentina_, its white blossoms covering the
bushes. Many of the plants were the same as on the lower cliffs, but
_Convolvulus scoparius_ I was much interested to find growing in its
natural state. The growth so closely resembles that of the _retama_
that it might easily be mistaken for it; the natives call it _Leña
Noel_ or _Palo de rosa_, but the flower is like a miniature convolvulus
growing all down the stems. Both this and _Convolvulus floridus_
are known as Canary Rosewoods, and _scoparius_ has become rare owing
to the digging of its roots from which the oil was distilled. Dr.
Morris of Kew was a great admirer of _C. floridus_, and describes
_guadil_, as it is known locally, as “a most attractive plant. When
in flower it appears as if covered with newly fallen snow. It is one
of the few native plants which awaken the enthusiasm of the local
residents.” Many Sempervivums were to be seen, but _S. Lindleyi_ is
most curious. Its fleshy transparent leaves grow in clusters and it
has received the local and very apt name of Guanche grapes. Little
_Scylla iridifolium_ grew everywhere, and one could have spent days
collecting treasures, and I felt torn in two between admiring the
splendid views which the headland commands, and trying to add something
to my most insufficient knowledge of the native plants. Near the house
in cultivated ground were to be seen the two most ornamental native
brooms, _Genista rhodorrhizoides_ and _Cytisus filipes_; both are of
drooping habit, with very sweet-scented white flowers, and should be
more widely cultivated. The former very closely resembles the variety
_mono-sperma_, which grows near the Mediterranean coast.
[Illustration: STATICES AND PRIDE OF TENERIFFE]
Here too were to be seen some splendid clumps of the true native
_Statice arborea_ which for many years gave rise to such botanical
discussions. For a long time this variety was lost and a hybrid of
_arborea_ and _macrophylla_ did duty for the true variety, which was
definitely pronounced extinct. It was, I believe, Francis Messon who
first collected this plant in Teneriffe on his way to the Cape in
1773, and describes its locality as “on a rock in the sea opposite the
fountain which waters Port Orotava.” These rocks were the Burgado Cove
to the east of Rambla del Castro, and it was again found growing in
this neighbourhood in 1829 by Berthelot and Webb, who describe it in
their admirable book on the “Histoire Naturelle des Iles Canaries.”
Before this date another French botanist, Broussonet, had “discovered”
the plant a few miles further along the coast, at Dauté near Garachico,
and after its complete disappearance from the Burgado rocks, owing
probably to goats having destroyed it, it was re-discovered in the
Dauté locality a few years ago, through the untiring efforts and
perseverance of Dr. George Perez. Having heard of the plants growing
on inaccessible rocks, he got a shepherd to secure the specimens for
him, the plants being hauled up by means of ropes to which hooks were
attached, and it was no doubt thanks to their position that even goats
were not able to destroy them. So _Statice arborea_ was rescued and is
once more in cultivation, and one of the most ornamental and effective
garden plants it is possible to see. The loose panicles of deep purple
flower-heads last for weeks in perfection, and are so freely produced
that even one plant of it seems to give colour to a whole garden. The
statices endemic to the various islands form quite a long list and
are all ornamental, and prove the fact I have already mentioned of
the extremely restricted area in which many native plants are found.
The true _Statice macrophylla_ finds a home in only a small area on
the north-east coast of Teneriffe and is another very showy species.
_Statice frutescens_ is very similar to _Statice arborea_, but is
of much smaller stature; its native home appears to be--or to have
been--on the rocky promontory of El Freyle, to the extreme west of
Teneriffe.
From a single high rock, known as Tabucho, near Marca, also on
the west coast, came in 1907 a new variety, at first thought to
be _Preauxii_, but it was eventually found to be an entirely new
contribution and was named _Statice Perezii_ after Dr. Perez who
discovered the plant and sent the specimen to Kew.
The island of Gomera contributes the very blue-flowered _S.
brassicifolia_, its winged stems making it easy to recognise, and
from Lanzarote comes _S. puberula_, a more dwarf kind, very varying
in colour. These appear to comprise the statices best known now in
cultivation, though there are several other less interesting varieties.
Here, at Santa Ursula, great interest is also taken in the Echiums,
another race of Canary plants. _Echium simplex_ must be accorded
first place, as it is commonly called Pride of Teneriffe; it bears
one immense spike of white flowers, and like the aloe, after this one
supreme effort the plant dies. The seed luckily germinates freely. From
the island of La Palma had come seed of _Echium pininana_, and tales
of a deep blue flower-spike said to rise from 9 ft. to 15 ft. in the
air, and though the plants were only one year old some showed promise
of flowering. The pinkish flowered _E. auberianum_, like so many of
the statices, has made its home in almost inaccessible places among
the rocks on the Fortaleza at a height of some 7000 ft., close to the
Cañadas.
Over the walls were hanging masses of _Lotus Berthelotii_, one of the
native plants I most admired. Its long trails of soft grey leaves hang
in garlands and in spring come the deep red flowers. The plant is known
locally as _Pico de paloma_ (pigeon’s beak) and I found one seldom gave
it its true botanical name, which does not seem to fit it. Here again
is another plant whose native lair has been lost. A stretch of country
between Villa Orotava and La Florida is known to have been its home,
but for years past botanists have hunted for it in vain. A variety
which differed slightly found a home in the Pinar above Arico, but that
equally has disappeared.
V
TENERIFFE (_continued_)
To the east of the town lies a district where, in old days, the
Spaniards built their villas, as summer residences, in which to escape
from the heat and dust of the town. In those days vineyards and
cornfields took the place of banana plantations and potato fields, and
near some of the villas are to be seen to this day the old wine-presses
with their gigantic beams made of the wood of the native pine. These
presses have long been silent and idle, as disease ravaged the vines
some fifty years ago, and “Canary sack” is no longer stored in the vast
cellars of the old houses.
[Illustration: LA PAZ]
One of these old villas became our temporary home, so I am to be
forgiven for placing it first on the list. A steep cobbled lane leads
up from the Puerto, bordered with plane trees, and here and there great
clumps of oleanders, to the plateau some 300 feet above the sea on
which stands the house of La Paz. The outer gate is guarded by the
little chapel of Santo Amaro, and once a year the clanging bell summons
worshippers to Mass and to escort the figure of the patron saint, amid
incense and rockets, down the long cypress avenue to the terrace above
the sea.
Each side of the faded green wooden doorway, two giant cypresses stand
like sentries to guard the gate, through which may be seen, on one
side, a row of flaunting red poinsettias, waving their gaudy blossoms
above a low myrtle hedge, and on the other side the high garden wall
is draped with orange creepers. At right angles to this path facing
the entrance to the house, a long avenue of splendid lance-like
cypresses rises above a thick hedge of myrtles whose trunks speak for
themselves of their immense age. A round flight of low steps leads to
the forecourt, and the tiny inner court is guarded by yet another faded
green doorway. Here flowers run riot in a little garden where prim box
hedges edge the paved walks. On a flagged terrace stands the “House
of Peace,” facing the Atlantic, and from the solid green panelled
door there is an unbroken view down the long, straight avenue to the
dazzling, dancing sea below.
Over the door is a weather-stained coat-of-arms, and above, again, on
a piece of soft green scroll-work, is the Latin motto “hic est requies
mea,” as here to his house of rest came the original owner, to rest
from his work in the town.
Very little seems to be known of the history of La Paz, but it seems
fairly certain that it was built by an Irish family of the name of
Walsh; who, with many of their fellow countrymen, emigrated to the
Canaries after the siege of Limerick, and in the church of N. S. de la
Peña de Francia, in the town, the tomb of Bernardo Walsh, who died in
1721, bears the same arms as those which are carved above the door.
The family, who no doubt entered into business in the town, appear to
have found a foreign name inconvenient and changed it into Valois, as
Bernardo Walsh is described as alias Valois. The two Irish families of
Walsh and Cologan intermarried at some time, and the property passed to
the Cologans, who assumed the Spanish title of Marquez de la Candia; to
this family La Paz still belongs, though it is many years since they
have lived there, and the present owner, who lives in Spain, has never
even seen the property.
The traveller Humboldt is said to have been a guest at La Paz for a few
days, which has caused many Germans to call it “Humboldt’s villa,” and
even to go so far as to say that he built it, though he only paid a
flying visit of four days to Orotava in 1799. From the account of his
visit in his “Personal Narrative” it appears doubtful as to whether
he stayed at La Paz or at the house belonging to the Cologan family,
in Villa Orotava. Alluding to his short stay, he remarks: “It is
impossible to speak of Orotava without recalling to the remembrance of
the friends of science, the name of Don Bernardo Cologan, whose house
at all times was open to travellers of every nation. We could have
wished to have sojourned for some time in Don Bernardo’s house, and to
have visited with him the charming scenery of San Juan de la Rambla.
But on a voyage such as we had undertaken, the present is but little
enjoyed. Continually haunted by the fear of not executing the design
of to-morrow we live in perpetual uneasiness....” Further on he says:
“Don Cologan’s family has a country house nearer the coast than that
I have just mentioned. This house, called La Paz, is connected with
a circumstance that rendered it peculiarly interesting to us. M. le
Borde, whose death we deplored, was its inmate during his last visit to
the Canary Islands. It was in a neighbouring plain that he measured the
base, by which he determined the height of the Peak.” The house has no
pretensions to any great architectural beauty, but has an air of peace
and stateliness which the hand of time gives to many a house of far
less imposing dimensions than its modern neighbour.
On one side of the house a few steps lead down to the walled garden,
a large square outlined and traversed by vine-clad pergolas, which
again form four more squares. In the centre of one an immense pine tree
shelters a round water basin, where papyrus and arums make a welcome
shelter for the tiny green frogs. One feature of these old Spanish
gardens might well be copied in other lands; a low double plaster wall
some two feet thick, called locally a _poyo_, makes a charming border
for plants: geraniums, verbenas, stocks, carnations, poppies, and the
hanging _Pico de paloma_, all look their best grown in this way, and at
a lower level a wide low seat ran along the walls. The beds were edged
with sweet-smelling geranium, the white-leafed salvia, a close-growing
thyme, or box, all kept clipped in neat, compact hedges. Some of the
garden has now, alas! been given over to a more profitable use than
that of growing flowers, and a potato crop is succeeded in summer by
maize, but enough remains for a wealth of flowering trees, shrubs,
creepers and plants. The brilliant orange _Bignonia venusta_ covers a
long stretch of the pergola, drapes the garden wall and climbs up to
the flat roof-top of one of the detached wings of the house. In summer
a white stephanotis disputes possession and covers the tiled roof of
a garden shed, filling the whole air with its delicious scent. Among
other sweet-smelling plants were daturas, whose great trumpets are
especially night-scented flowers, and in early spring the tiny white
blossoms of the creeping smilex smell so much like the orange blossoms
which have not yet opened, that their delicious fragrance might easily
be mistaken for it. Sweet-scented geraniums grow in every corner, and
heliotropes, sweet peas and stocks all add to the fragrance of the
garden.
The grounds contain several good specimen palms, too many perhaps
for the health of flowers, as their roots seem to poison the ground;
hibiscus, coral trees, pittosperums and a long list of trees common
to most sub-tropical gardens find a home, but the tree I most admired
was a venerable specimen of the native olive growing near a grove of
feathery giant bamboos.
The cypress avenue leads to a broad terrace at a dizzy height above
the sea; the surf beats against the cliffs below, but the salt air
does not seem to affect the beautiful vegetation, and for long years
great clumps of Euphorbias and Kleinias have stood against the winter
storms when great breakers roll in and crash against the rocks. On
the left lies the little flat town of the Puerto, over which in clear
weather the Island of La Palma emerges from its mantle of clouds, and
many a gorgeous sunset bathes the whole town in a mist of rosy light,
recalling the legend that in days of old, navigators had christened the
little fishing-port the Puerto de Oro, after Casa de Oro, the House of
Gold, which title they had given to the Peak, as night after night the
setting sun had turned its cap of snow to pale gold.
On the right the broken coast-line stretches away into the far
distance, and the mountains rise above the little villages; they in
their turn are caught by the setting sun and kissed by her last
departing rays, and turned to a rosy pink, but as the ball of fire
sinks into the sea, the shadows creep up, and in one moment in this
land which knows no twilight, the light is gone and the cold greyness
of night takes possession.
Just behind La Paz are the Botanical gardens, which owe their existence
to the Marquez de Nava, who in 1795 undertook at enormous expense to
level the hill of Durasno, and lay it out for receiving the treasures
of other climes. Though complaints are often made of its distance from
the so-called “English colony,” the site was well chosen, as the soil
on this side of the _barranco_, which separates it from the lava bed,
is decidedly more fertile, and being of a heavier nature and deeper is
less liable to blight and disease, which are the curse of the gardens
on light dry soil, and which no amount of irrigation will cure. In
this garden are collected treasures from every part of the world; new
ground is sadly needed as the immense trees and shrubs have made the
cultivation of flowers a great difficulty. Humboldt appreciated the
use of these gardens for the introduction of plants from Asia, Africa
and South America, remarking that: “In happier times when maritime
wars shall no longer interrupt communication, the garden of Teneriffe
may become extremely useful with respect to the great number of plants
which are sent from the Indies to Europe: for ere they reach our coasts
they often perish owing to the length of the passage, during which they
inhale an air impregnated with salt water. These plants would meet at
Orotava with the care and climate necessary for their preservation; at
Durasno, the Protea, the Psidium, the Jambos, the Chirinoya of Peru,
the sensitive plant, and the Heliconia all grow in the open air.”
[Illustration: BOTANICAL GARDENS, OROTAVA]
To give a list of all the trees and plants would be an impossibility
and any one who is interested in them will find an excellent account of
the gardens in a pamphlet written by Dr. Morris of Kew, who was much
interested in his visit to the Canary Islands in 1895. The gardens
for some years fell into a neglected state from lack of funds, but
once again bid fair to regain their former glory under new management.
Among the chief ornaments of the gardens are the very fine specimens
of the native pine, _Pinus canariensis_, an immense _Ficus nitida_,
one of the best shade-giving trees, and travellers from the tropics
will recognise an old friend in _Ravenala madagascariensis_, the
“Traveller’s Tree,” in the socket of whose leaves water is always to be
found.
Further up the road is the property of San Bartolomeo; the land is now
entirely devoted to banana cultivation, the house is handed over to
the tender mercies of a _medianero_, and the garden tells a tale of
departed glories. In the _patio_ of the house a donkey is stalled under
a purple bougainvillea, and tall cypresses look down reproachfully at
the fallen state of things. In the chapel of the house mass is still
said daily, but for seven years I was told the _sala_ had not been
opened. In the garden the myrtle hedges have grown out of all bounds,
jessamines have become a dense tangle, and the plaster _poyos_, which
once were full of plants, are crumbling to decay.
Near by is El Cypres, formerly a villa, and named after its splendid
cypresses, which mark every old Spanish garden, and now unfortunately
appear to be little planted. This villa has been turned into a
_pension_, and its glory is also departed. El Drago has been more
fortunate, and has been rescued by foreign hands, and the wealth
of creepers, especially _Plumbago capensis_, which in autumn has a
complete canopy of pale blue flowers clambering over the pergolas,
together with its splendid trees, make a landmark in the landscape.
A few miles away I wandered one evening into another deserted garden,
not entirely uncared for, as I was told the owner from the villa
came there for a few weeks in summer. This garden showed that it had
originally been laid out with great care and thought, not in the
haphazard way which spoils so many gardens, and afterwards I learnt
that it had been planned by a Portuguese gardener, and I recognised
the little beds with their neat box hedges, the clumps of rosemaries
and heaths which, though they were somewhat unkempt, showed that in
former days they had been clipped into shape after the manner of
all true Portuguese gardens. The garden walls and plaster seats of
charming designs showed traces of fresco work in delicate colouring,
and soft green tiles edged the water basin, in which grew a tangle of
papyrus, yams and arums. A garden house, whose roof was completely
covered with wistaria, was surrounded by a balcony whose walls had
also been frescoed, but now, alas, packing cases for bananas had
sorely damaged them. The sole occupants of the garden appeared to be
a pair of peacocks; the male bird at the sight of an intruder spread
his fan and strutted down the terrace steps to do the honours of the
garden. The flower-beds, which had once been full of begonias, lilies,
pelargoniums, and every kind of treasured plant, are now too much
overshadowed by large trees, but I longed to have the restoring of this
garden to its former beauty.
On the other side of the yawning _barranco_ lie Sant Antonio and El
Sitio del Pardo, both old houses, built long before the town began to
develop and new houses cropped up on the western side. Across this
_barranco_ a new road, which was to lead from the _carretera_ to the
Puerto, was commenced some years ago, and left unfinished, after even
the bridge had been constructed, because the owner of a small piece of
land refused to sell, or allow the road to pass through his property.
Thus it remains a “broken road,” because, in true Spanish fashion, no
one had taken the trouble to make sure that the land was available
before the undertaking was commenced; and still all the traffic to the
port has to wind its way slowly along several miles of unnecessary
road.
[Illustration: EL SITIO DEL GARDO]
El Sitio is another old villa which was visited by Humboldt, who was
present on the eve of St. John’s Day at a pastoral _fête_ in the garden
of Mr. Little, who appears to have been the original owner of El Sitio.
Humboldt says: “This gentleman, who rendered great service to the
Canarians during the last famine, has cultivated a hill covered with
volcanic substances. He has formed in this delicious site an English
garden, whence there is a magnificent view of the Peak, of the villages
along the coast, and the isle of La Palma, which is bounded by the
vast expanse of the Atlantic. I cannot compare this prospect with any,
except the views of the Bay of Genoa and Naples; but Orotava is greatly
superior to both in the magnitude of the masses and richness of the
vegetation. In the beginning of the evening, the slope of the volcano
exhibited on a sudden a most extraordinary spectacle. The shepherds, in
conformity to a custom no doubt introduced by the Spaniards, though it
dates from the highest antiquity, had lighted the fires of St. John.
The scattered masses of fire, and the columns of smoke driven by the
wind, formed a fine contrast with the deep verdure of the forest, which
covered the sides of the Peak. Shouts of joy resounding from afar
were the only sounds that broke the silence of nature in the solitary
regions.”
El Sitio is also well known as being the house where Miss North made
her headquarters when she visited Teneriffe, and made her collection
of drawings of plants from Canary Gardens, which are in the gallery
at Kew. Miss North, in her book of “Recollections,” appears to have
thoroughly enjoyed her stay, and describes this garden as follows:
“There were myrtle trees ten or twelve feet high, Bougainvilleas
running up cypress trees. Mrs. Smith (the owner of the garden
in those days) complained of their untidiness, and great white
Longiflorum lilies growing as high as myself. The ground was white
with fallen orange and lemon petals; the huge white Cherokee roses
(_Rosa lævigata_) covered a great arbour and tool-house with their
magnificent flowers. I never smelt roses so sweet as those in that
garden. Over all peeped the snowy point of the Peak, at sunrise and
sunset most gorgeous, but even more dazzling in the moonlight. From
the garden I could stroll up some wild hills of lava, where Mr. Smith
had allowed the natural vegetation of the island to have all its own
way. Magnificent aloes, cactus, euphorbias, arums, cinerarias, sundry
heaths, and other peculiar plants, were to be seen in their fullest
beauty. Eucalyptus trees had been planted on the top, and were doing
well with their bark hanging in rags and tatters about them. I scarcely
ever went out without finding some new wonder to paint, lived a life of
most perfect peace and happiness, and got strength every day with my
kind friends.”
This property has been fortunate enough to pass to other hands who
still appreciate it, and the above paragraph, though written so many
years ago, is still a very good description of the garden.
Sant Antonio has not been so fortunate. For some years its garden was
the pride of Orotava. In the terraced ground in front of the house,
plants and trees from every part of the world found a home; but when
the maker of this garden left it, the owner ruthlessly tore up the
garden to plant bananas. Here and there among the banana-groves may
be seen a solitary bougainvillea still climbing over its trellised
archway, but little remains, except on one terrace below the house, to
show that the garden was ever cared for. In the grounds there still
remains some very good _treillage_ work. The pattern of the screens,
arches, and arbours are distinctly Chippendale in character and design,
and are painted a soft dull green. In several other instances I noticed
admirable patterns in the woodwork of screens to deep verandahs, and in
the upper part of wooden doorways. Chippendale must at one time have
been much admired and copied in the Canaries, and to this day, in even
the humblest cottage, the chairs are of true Chippendale design, though
roughly carved.
VI
TENERIFFE (_continued_)
Icod de los Vinos, a little town on the coast, some seventeen miles
from Orotava, was in the days of its prosperity a great centre of the
wine and cochineal trade. Its prosperous days are a thing of the past,
and to-day it appears to be rather a sleepy little town; but possibly
for just this reason it is more picturesque than some of its richer
neighbours, whose inhabitants can afford to build modern and most
unsightly houses.