THE STORY OF PLANTATION RUBBER
The earliest experiment in cultivating rubber was made only as far back
as the seventies of last century. And it is only within the present
century that cultivated rubber, or, as it is more generally called,
“plantation rubber,” has become a power in the industrial world.
The hero of the romantic story of that earliest experiment is Mr. H.
A. Wickham. After long and careful study of Wild Rubber-trees in the
Brazilian forests, Mr. Wickham came to the conclusion that it would
be possible to cultivate these valuable trees, and that the Eastern
Tropics would prove particularly suitable as a home for their adoption.
Experienced agriculturists and everyone connected with the rubber
business looked upon these ideas as the wild dreams of a man who had
more imagination than sense.
Nothing daunted, Mr. Wickham determined that at least he would put to
the test his theory that rubber seeds sown by man would grow quite as
well as seeds scattered by the trees themselves, provided they were
reared in suitable soil and in a similar climate to that of their
forest home. He began to plant seeds of the Hevea tree in Brazil,
turning into a nursery for them a piece of ground near to where he was
living at the time.
Little did he think then that the day was not far distant when he would
be given an opportunity of putting his theory to the test on a very
much bigger scale, and in the East, too.
In 1871 this energetic pioneer had published a book entitled “Rough
Notes of a Journey through the Wilderness,” wherein were included
drawings, made by himself, of the leaf, seed-pod, and seed of the
_Hevea brasiliensis_. These drawings came under the notice of Sir
Joseph Hooker, who was then Director of Kew Gardens, and attracted
his attention to the subject of rubber cultivation. Sir Joseph soon
became keenly interested in Mr. Wickham’s ideas. Not only did he favour
the theory that rubber-trees could be cultivated, but he fully agreed
that the Eastern Tropics would make a capital experimental nursery
for them, and thought that the East ought not to neglect so promising
a possibility of agricultural development. He managed to win for the
cause of rubber cultivation its third supporter, Sir Clements Markham
of the India Office. Sir Clements, in his turn, did his best to
interest his colleagues in the proposed new branch of agriculture, with
the result that in 1876 the Indian Government agreed to find the money
for the introduction into India of “the tree which produced the true
'Para’ rubber of commerce.”
Mr. Wickham, who was still living in the up-country region of Brazil,
was deputed to carry out the commission. His instructions were to
obtain a large number of Hevea seeds, and get them delivered to the
Indian Government. Although he was not hampered by any restrictions
as to ways or means, this was a difficult enough task. The seeds
would have to be collected at the particular season when they ripen;
they would have to be very carefully packed for their journey so that
they should not get damp, and yet should obtain enough ventilation to
keep them alive; they must not be very long out of the ground; and,
if anyhow possible, they must be got out of the country without the
Government of Brazil knowing what was happening, for the authorities
might say they would not allow them to be taken away.
If Brazil had known what a certain ship which left the country in
the early part of 1876 was carrying, and if she had guessed what a
revolution in the rubber world its cargo was destined to bring about,
there is little doubt but that she would have seen to it that no Hevea
seeds ever went to foreign lands.
But I am anticipating a state of affairs which is present-day history.
Here, in his own words, is the romantic story of how Mr. Wickham
accomplished his task.
“Whilst I was still boxing about for, or to find, some practicable way,
the few European planters in that remote locality were surprised and
startled by news of the arrival on the great river of a fully-equipped
ocean liner. This was not a little added to on receipt of an invitation
to a dinner on board the ss. _Amazonas_, Captain Murray, as the first
of the new line of 'Inman Line Steamships, Liverpool to the Alto-Amazon
direct.’ The thing was well done. The ship’s boats took us off at
Santarem, and we found the ship dressed out in blue lights. We were
entertained by the two gentlemen, as in charge of 'inauguration of the
new line.’ We had an altogether unlooked-for good evening on board,
with a well-appointed supper in the saloon. The following day she went
on her way for the Upper Amazon. I then thought no more about the
episode in rumination on any conceivable means of effecting my purpose
with regard to getting out a stock of the Para rubber-tree; and the
more anxiously as I knew the season for the ripening of the seed on the
trees in the forest to be drawing near.
“Then occurred one of those chances such as a man has to take at
top-tide or lose for ever.
“The startling news came down the river that our fine ship, the
_Amazonas_, had been abandoned, and left on the captain’s hands, after
having been stripped by the two gentlemen supercargoes (our late
hospitable entertainers!), and that without so much as a stick of cargo
for return voyage to Liverpool. I determined to plunge for it. It
seemed to present an occasion either 'to make my spoon or to spoil the
horn.’ It was true I had no cash on hand out there, and to realize on
an incipient plantation, in such a place and situation, was quite out
of the question. The seed was even then beginning to ripen on the trees
in the _Monte alto_--the high forest. I knew that Captain Murray must
be in a fix, so I wrote to him, boldly chartering the ship on behalf of
the Government of India; and I appointed to meet him at the junction of
the Tapajos and Amazon Rivers by a certain date.
“There was no time to lose. Hurriedly getting an Indian canoe,
posting up the right coast of the Tapajos, and traversing the broad
river--rather ticklish work in a small canoe at that season--I struck
back from the left shore for the deep woods, the _Monte alto_, wherein
I knew were to be found the big, full-grown Hevea trees....
“Working with as many Tapüyo Indians as I could get together at
short notice, I daily ranged the forest, and packed on our backs in
Indian pannier baskets as heavy loads of seeds as we could march down
under. I was working against time. Sometimes, however, during times
of rest, I would sit down and look into the leafy arches above, and
as I gazed, become lost in the wonderful beauty of the upper system
overhead--a world of life complete within itself. This is the abode
of strange forms of life, strangely plumaged birds, and elfish little
_ti-ti_ monkeys, which never descend to the dark soil throughout their
lives, but swing and gambol in the aërial gardens of dainty forms and
sweet-smelling orchids, for every great tree supports an infinite
variety of plant life. All overhead seemed the very exuberance of
animal and vegetable existence, and below, its contrast--decay and
darkness. Here and there a mass of orchid, carried from above by the
fall of some withered branch, sickening into pallor, thrust out from
the vitalizing air and life above.
“I got the Tapüyo village maids to make up open-work baskets or crates
of split _Calamus_ canes for receiving the seed, first, however, being
careful to have them slowly but well dried on mats in the shade, before
they were put away with layers of dried wild banana leaf betwixt each
layer of seed, knowing how easily a seed so rich in a drying-oil
becomes rancid or too dry, and so losing all power of germination. Also
I had the crates slung up to the beams of the Indian lodges to insure
ventilation.
“I was working against time. It was true that the seed would still
continue to ripen, and to fall from the trees for another month or so,
but it would be inexpedient to risk the vitality of some thousands I
had succeeded in securing. The rendezvous with Captain Murray of the
_Amazonas_ would soon fall due at the river mouth, and if I missed
that, when and how another such opportunity? I had got to look upon
the heavy oily seeds in their dappled skins as become very precious,
after having backed them down so many long days tramping across the
forest plateaux, and so lost no time in getting them carefully stowed
under the _tolda_ of the canoe, and starting away downstream, duly
meeting the steamer, as appointed, at the mouth of the Tapajos.
“I found Murray crabbed and sore from the experiences with his two
rascally supercargoes. It appeared they had given instructions to land
the whole of the trade-goods with which his ship had been freighted
ostensibly for purchase of incoming rubber-season crop at the town of
Manaos. He was then to anchor his ship at the _boca_ of the Rio Negro
and 'await orders,’ they meanwhile to dispose of the goods, and to
advise when they had got together sufficient rubber in order to load
ship for the return trip. The time becoming unaccountably long, he
landed, and on making inquiry he could only learn that the goods had
indeed been disposed of, but no one could give any information as to
his two supercargoes, and so found himself left with an empty ship on
his hands.
“For my part, as the fine ship sped on her way with my prospective
Hevea so far safe aboard, slung up fore and aft in their crates in the
roomy, empty forehold, I became more and more exercised and concerned
with a new anxiety, so as not much to heed Murray’s grumpiness. We
were bound to call in at the city of Para, as the port of entry, in
order to obtain clearance for the ship before we could go to sea. I
was perfectly certain in my mind that if the authorities guessed the
purpose of what I had on board, we should be detained under plea for
instruction from the Central Government at Rio, if not interdicted
altogether. I had heard of the difficulties encountered in the Clements
Markham introduction of the _Chinchonas_ in getting them out from
the Montaña of Peru. Any such delay would have rendered my precious
freight quite valueless and useless. But again fortune favoured. I had
'a friend at court’ in the person of Consul Green. He, quite entering
into the spirit of the thing, went himself with me on a special call
on the Barão do S----, 'chief of the Alfandiga,’ and backed me up as
I represented 'to his Excellency my difficulty and anxiety, being in
charge of, and having on board a ship anchored out in the stream,
exceedingly delicate botanical specimens specially designated for
delivery to Her Britannic Majesty’s own Royal Gardens of Kew. Even
while doing myself the honour of thus calling on his Excellency, I
had given orders to the captain of the ship to keep up steam, having
ventured to trust that his Excellency would see his way to furnish me
with immediate dispatch.’ An interview most polite, full of mutual
compliments in best Portuguese manner, enabled us to get under way as
soon as Murray had got the dingey hauled aboard.
“Now fairly away, I could breathe freely, and soon had the hatches off
with the open-work crates slung up on lines fore and aft in the air,
and free of danger from ship’s rats. Again blessed with fine weather, I
was able to keep the hatches off all the way over.
“I got Murray to put me ashore at Havre, and there posted over to
Kew, saw Sir Joseph Hooker, so as to enable him to dispatch a night
goods-train to meet the ship _Amazonas_ on arrival at the Liverpool
docks.
“June, 1876, was a time of commotion at Kew, as they were compelled to
turn out orchid and propagating houses for service, and to make room
for the sudden and all-unexpected inroad of the Hevea; but Sir Joseph
was not a little pleased. The Hevea did not fail to respond to the care
I had bestowed on them. A fortnight afterwards the glass-houses at Kew
afforded (to me) a pretty sight--tier upon tier--rows of young Hevea
plants, 7,000 and odd of them.”*
* “On the Plantation, Cultivation, and Curing of Para Indian
Rubber,” by H. A. Wickham (Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Co.).