THE BOTANICAL GARDENS.
History of the Buitenzorg gardens--Teysmann--
Scheffer--Three separate branches--Horticultural
garden--Mountain garden--Botanical garden--
Dr. Treub--Lady Raffles' monument--Pandanus with
aërial roots--Cyrtostachys renda--Stelecho-karpus--
Urostigma--Brazilian palms--Laboratories and
offices--Number of men employed--Scientific strangers.
Among the twenty or thirty tropical gardens established in the
colonial possessions of the various European Powers, three stand
pre-eminent--those of Calcutta, the Peradenia Gardens in Ceylon, and
the Dutch gardens at Buitenzorg. It is only natural that a people so
distinguished for horticulture as the Dutch should have turned to
account the floral wealth of the Malay Archipelago, perhaps the richest
botanical hunting-ground in the world. The Buitenzorg gardens, however,
owe their present celebrity more to individual energy than to Government
patronage.
Originally established in 1819, in a corner of the park surrounding the
residence of the Governor-General, the exigencies of colonial finance
subsequently required the withdrawal of almost all the provision
originally made, and only a sum sufficient to support a single European
gardener was left. The salary of this single official was taken from the
funds appropriated to the maintenance of the park. It was to this post
that J. E. Teysmann was appointed in 1830. Educated at one of the
primary schools in Holland, and originally employed as an
under-gardener, he had in that capacity accompanied Governor Van den
Bosch to Java. Like our own Moffat (also an under-gardener), Teysmann
rose by his energy and devotion to "great honour," and, half a century
later, received a remarkable proof of the esteem in which he was held in
the scientific world, consisting of an album, within which were
inscribed the signatures of the donors--one hundred famous naturalists,
ranging from Darwen to Candolle, the Genevan. It bore the inscription--
"_Celeberrimo indefessoque J. E. Teysmann cum dimidium per
sæculum Archipelagi indici thesaurum botanicum exploravit,
mirantes collegæ._"
During the period that the gardens ceased to exist as an independent
institution--1830 to 1868--Teysmann continued to search throughout the
islands of the Archipelago for rare and undiscovered plants with which
to enrich them. He also published catalogues embodying the discoveries
he had made, and finally arranged the plants and trees upon an excellent
system, in which they are grouped in accordance with their natural
relationships.
In 1868 the gardens once more became a public institution, with a
curator and a recognized revenue. The new curator was Dr. Scheffer, of
Utrecht, who in 1876 founded, in addition to the botanical gardens, a
school of agriculture with a garden attached to it. This useful
institution was subsequently suppressed by the Government, but the
garden still survives alongside its parent at Buitenzorg. Dr. Scheffer
died in 1880, when only thirty-six years of age. He was succeeded by the
present curator, Dr. Treub.
The Dutch Government gardens in Java, known to the scientific world as
the _Hortus Bogoriensis_,[15] and to the official as the _Nederlands
Plantentuin te Buitenzorg_, contain three separate branches--the
botanical gardens, a horticultural garden, and a mountain garden. Of
these, the last is situated at some distance from the town, on the
slopes of Mount Gedé. It occupies seventy-five acres of land at an
altitude of between 4000 and 5000 feet, and is provided with a staff of
ten natives working under a European gardener. I was told that, while
all European, Australian, and Japanese flowers would grow there, it was
found impossible to cultivate the fruits of such temperate regions,
owing to the difficulty experienced in securing the necessary period of
rest. I have since heard that in Fiji the difficulty is overcome by
exposing the roots for some months, and thus preventing the sap from
rising. Why not adopt this method in Java?
[Footnote 15: _Bogor_ is the native name for this place;
_Buitenzorg_ means "beyond care," and is therefore the
equivalent of the French _sans sourci_.]
The horticultural garden adjoins the botanical gardens, and occupies
forty acres. As already mentioned, it owes its existence to Dr.
Scheffer, and it is, of course, devoted to strictly practical objects.
Consequently, everything is arranged in such a manner as to make the
most of the space. All the paths are at right angles or parallel to each
other, and the garden generally is laid out with monotonous regularity.
Yet no small part of the success of the Government gardens as an
institution depends upon the produce of this department. It has for many
years enabled the Government to distribute gratuitously the seeds and
plants required for various colonial enterprises. Within its trim beds
are contained tea and coffee plants, sugar-canes, caoutchouc and
gutta-percha trees, _Erythroxylon coca_ for cocaine, and trees
producing tannin and oils. Various medicinal plants are also to be found
here, and such as afford useful nourishment for cattle. The necessary
labour for this garden is supplied by a head-gardener and seventy
natives.
The botanical gardens occupy ninety acres of the southern corner of the
park, which itself forms their northern limit. On the east they are
bounded by the river Tjiliwong, and on the west and south by the
high-road from Batavia. Through the centre there runs the famous _Allée
des Kanaries_ (_Canarium commune_), the boughs of which form an arched
roof one hundred feet from the ground. Leading right and left from this
central avenue run other smaller avenues, roads, and paths, conducting
to the different plots in which the various families of plants are
contained, in accordance with the system of arrangement introduced by
Teysmann. Some of these paths, especially those leading to the lower
level by the river-bank, are paved with pebbles after the manner of the
"cobbled" streets of our English villages. To this Mr. Wallace, in his
"Malay Archipelago," takes exception on the score of discomfort. I was
assured, however, that they are a necessary evil, and that the heavy
rains to which Buitenzorg was liable, made it necessary to have the
firmest kind of pathway in such places. At either end of the avenue
there are lodges, but no gates, and the gardens are left open day and
night without any fear of injury. This fortunate condition of affairs is
not unusual in Java, but in this case security is partly ensured by the
proximity of a large military force and the frequent presence of the
Governor-General.
As Dr. Treub had kindly offered to act as my guide, I found my way one
morning to his house at the early hour of half-past seven. The residence
provided for the curator is situated on the left side of the southern
entrance. The deep verandah is furnished with some brilliant groups of
flowers. Opening on to it is a little morning-room hung with some
elegant engravings--reproductions of _Salon_ pictures. Here I found Dr.
Treub waiting for me.
After a few moments' conversation we left the house and passed down the
avenue. Some hundred yards onwards, to the right, there is a stone
monument interesting to Englishmen. It consists of a circular roof
supported by pillars, protecting a funereal urn placed upon a square
pedestal. On the pedestal the following inscription is engraved:--
"_Sacred to the memory of Olivia Mariamne, wife of Thomas
Stamford Raffles, Lieutenant-Governor of Java and its
dependencies, who died at Buitenzorg on the 26th of November,
1814._"
Although the site of this monument is more humble than that of Sir
Thomas Raffles' statue at Singapore, it is scarcely less interesting;
and the repair and preservation of the stonework is secured by a special
clause in the treaty of cession. I think it was just here that Dr. Treub
turned away from the Canary Avenue, and, taking one of the paths to the
right, led me forward towards the river.
I had asked him if he would point out any trees specially worthy of
being sketched, and he had very readily acceded to my request. After we
had walked a few minutes, however, he said--
"I am in a difficulty; I do not know what to show you. We have some most
curious plants in the garden, but there is nothing remarkable about them
externally. I suppose you want something with a _cachet_ for the
public?"
I said he was quite right in his supposition. What I wanted was
something of interest from a picturesque point of view to the general
public.
"There," he said, pointing to a tall tree with a growth and foliage of
no distinct character, "is a strychnine tree; from the berries of that
tree we get nux vomica; but if you drew that, they would say, 'Why, it
is an apple-tree; it is not worth going to the tropics to see that.'"
By this time we had almost reached the banks of the Tjiliwong, and again
turning to the right, where grew the pandans, "There," he said, "is a
tree with aërial roots. It comes from the Nicobar Islands, just
north-west of Sumatra. I think it is about twenty-eight feet in height.
No, the roots do not contribute to its nourishment; they are useless
but very curious." From the pandans we passed to the palms. First we
noticed a specimen of comparatively low growth, with its leaves
springing from the ground like the leaves of a primrose--_Ladoicea
Sechellarum_. It bore, I was told, the largest fruit and the largest
leaves of any known tree, the former being two, and the latter ten, feet
in diameter. "Unfortunately, there is no fruit on it," said Dr. Treub,
"but you can see _that_ in any museum. You see, the stems of the leaves
are as hard as iron." Indeed, they gave quite a metallic ring as he
drove the ferrule of his walking stick against them. A few steps further
brought us to a tree which Dr. Treub said had no special
characteristics, but was a perfect natural specimen of the palm family.
It stood about forty feet in height, and was furnished with foliage
which hung gracefully suspended from a straight tapering stem. Then at
the next corner, where its beauty showed to advantage, we came upon a
group of red-stemmed palms from the little island of Banka. A fortnight
later I was anchored off Mentok, the capital of that island, in a Dutch
mail boat; but at this time I had no knowledge of the _habitat_ of this
fair tree--nor, indeed, had I seen it before, although a few weeks
afterwards I found two fine specimens growing on either side of the
entrance of a private house at Singapore. It needs an expert to describe
so rare a combination of brilliant colours and graceful form. Mr.
Forbes, the naturalist, in his account of his "Wanderings in the Eastern
Archipelago," tells how he passed down through "plots of amaryllideæ,
iris, and other water-loving plants" in this quarter of the garden; and
how he found the "glory" of "the richest _palmetum_ in the world--the
_Cyrtostachys renda_, whose long bright scarlet leaf-sheaths and
flower-spathes, and its red fruit and deep yellow inflorescence hanging
side by side, at once arrest the eye."
From this point we again ascended to the higher level of the garden by a
path paved with pebbles and cut into steps. Then "faring on our way," we
reached the division marked _Anonaceæ_, and there my eye came upon a
sight which rivalled in wonder the golden bough of the sixth Æneid
which the doves of Venus showed to Æneas:
"Tollunt se celeres, liquidumque per aëra lapsæ,
Sedibus optatis geminæ super arbore sidunt,
Discolor unde auri per ramos aura refulsit."
In this case the "contrasting golden beam" shone not from the foliage,
but, stranger still, from the black trunk of a tall tree. It was a
_stelecho-karpus_, or stem-flowering tree. The trunk from which the deep
saffron flowers sprang was about one foot and three inches in diameter,
and the flowers themselves were much like bunches of primroses, only
darker in colour and divested of their leaves. Unlike Æneas, we passed
forward without any floral spoils--for, indeed, we had no such awkward
personage as Charon to reckon with--among dark, cool, tree-arched
avenues of figs and banyans to the northern limit. On our way we paused
once to notice a fine "sacred fig" of India (_urostigma_), a tree with
remarkably angular boughs; and again when Dr. Treub stopped, and,
pointing to the frangipane blossom, said, "That is the flower of
religion in India, being sacred to Buddha; the Malays here call it the
'flower of the dead.'" In this quarter the trees were larger and of more
robust growth, and the appearance of the garden more natural to my
Northern eyes. A sudden turn brought us to a projecting spur, on which
was built a little summer-house commanding a view of the surrounding
country. Far away the double mountain Pangerango and Gedé rose blue and
shadowy, with just a wreath of smoke showing from the volcanic peak. In
the middle ground stretched masses of tropical forests edging the bright
green terraces of the savah land. At our feet the river ran bubbling and
fretting over the brown stones.
In returning we skirted the central lake, and, having crossed the
avenue, passed down a broad roadway lined with rich foliage. This was so
arranged as to afford a view of Mount Salak to the southern windows of
the Governor-General's residence. It was one of the many glimpses which
appeared of a sheer height of dark azure contrasted with the bright
green of palm or bamboo. Leaving this, we passed down an avenue of
Brazilian palms, running parallel to the Canary Avenue. Each tree was
almost too faultlessly perfect in its graceful foliage and smooth
rounded stem, and of apparently equal height. Round the surfaces of
these stems the green leaves and purple flowers of convolvuli clung. A
few yards beyond the termination of this avenue we left the path and
entered a wilderness of climbing plants. Carefully advancing (for there
were arms stretched out on every side ready to pluck flesh or clothing),
we took our stand opposite the coils of a huge climbing palm.
"There are branches," said Dr. Treub, "from this plant six hundred feet
in length; it passes, as you see, from tree to tree."
On reaching the path, I found that we had completed the circuit of the
gardens, and were once more in the neighbourhood of the nurseries and
buildings. These latter are numerous and extensive, for the curator of
the Buitenzorg gardens aims not only at obtaining a wide range of
vegetable products, and thus serving the needs of colonial industries,
but also at accomplishing researches in the pathology and physiology of
plants. In this way Dr. Treub expects a useful development for the
tropical gardens generally, which he considers have only lately become
genuine centres of scientific research. At Buitenzorg, in addition to a
museum containing an extensive herbarium and a botanical library of over
five thousand volumes, there are numerous laboratories and offices
accommodating the curator and his three assistants, and draughtsmen, who
are competent to employ the methods of photography and lithography in
reproducing the forms of plants. Under the direction of this staff there
are employed a number of natives, including three Malays with special
botanical knowledge, a head-gardener, and nine under-gardeners, and
scarcely less than a hundred coolies. Altogether there are nine thousand
distinct species of plants contained in the gardens. On our way to the
strangers' laboratory we passed a number of trellis-work houses, with
creepers trained over their sides and roofs. "You see," said Dr. Treub,
with a smile, "we have _cool_ houses here instead of _hot_ houses. They
are for forest plants accustomed to coolness and shelter."
I was especially asked to notice the completeness of the arrangements
made for scientific visitors. The laboratory is seventy-five feet in
length, and opposite each of the ten windows (five on either side) is
placed a table fitted with optical instruments and other necessary means
of botanical research. It is also provided with a small library and
herbarium. In reference to the strangers' laboratory, Dr. Treub remarked
that he specially desired to see Englishmen avail themselves of it.
German and French _savants_ had come to Buitenzorg to study, but no
Englishmen as yet.
I visited these gardens on several occasions during my short stay at
Buitenzorg, and often wandered among the dark tree-arched paths and
avenues. On each occasion I found some new beauty. One day it was a
lakelet covered with great water-plants; another day a gorgeous plot of
orchids, or a fresh piece of landscape. These subsequent visits,
however, lacked that which gave so great a charm to my first walk
through the gardens--the spontaneous courtesy and graceful learning of
the curator.
[Illustration: A HAPPY CELESTIAL.]