carefully, throwing away those damaged pieces which would ferment in the
long, hot journey home, and spoil the others. When all are clean and
dry, he fixes them with copper wire on sticks, which are nailed across
boxes for transport. Long experience has laid down rules for each
detail of this process. The sticks, for example, are one inch in
diameter, fitting into boxes two feet three inches wide, two feet deep,
neither more nor less. Then the long file of mules sets out for Bogota,
perhaps ten days' march, each animal carrying two boxes--a burden
ridiculously light, but on such tracks it is dimension which has to be
considered. On arrival at Bogota, the cases are unpacked and examined
for the last time, restowed, and consigned to the muleteers again. In
six days they reach Honda, on the Magdalena River, where, until lately,
they were embarked on rafts for a voyage of fourteen days to Savanilla.
At the present time, an American company has established a service of
flat-bottomed steamers which cover the distance in seven days, thus
reducing the risks of the journey by one-half. But they are still
terrible. Not a breath of wind stirs the air at that season, for the
collector cannot choose his time. The boxes are piled on deck; even the
pitiless sunshine is not so deadly as the stewing heat below. He has a
store of blankets to cover them, on which he lays a thatch of
palm-leaves, and all day long he souses the pile with water; but too
well the poor fellow knows that mischief is busy down below. Another
anxiety possesses him too. It may very well be that on arrival at
Savanilla he has to wait days in that sweltering atmosphere for the
Royal Mail steamer. And when it comes in, his troubles do not cease, for
the stowage of the precious cargo is vastly important. On deck it will
almost certainly be injured by salt water. In the hold it will ferment.
Amidships it is apt to be baked by the engine fire. Whilst writing I
learn that Mr. Sander has lost two hundred and sixty-seven cases by this
latter mishap, as is supposed. So utterly hopeless is their condition,
that he will not go to the expense of overhauling them; they lie at
Southampton, and to anybody who will take them away all parties
concerned will be grateful. The expense of making this shipment a reader
may judge from the hints given. The Royal Mail Company's charge for
freight from Manzanilla is 750l. I could give an incident of the same
class yet more startling with reference to Phaloenopsis. It is proper to
add that the most enterprising of Assurance Companies do not yet see
their way to accept any kind of risks in the orchid trade; importers
must bear all the burden. To me it seems surprising that the plants can
be sold so cheap, all things considered. Many persons think and hope
that prices will fall, and that may probably happen with regard to some
genera. But the shrewdest of those very shrewd men who conduct the
business all look for a rise.
_Od. Harryanum_ always reminds me--in such an odd association of ideas
as everyone has experienced--of a thunderstorm. The contrast of its
intense brown blotches with the azure throat and the broad, snowy lip,
affect me somehow with admiring oppression. Very absurd; but _on est
fait comme ça_, as Nana excused herself. To call this most striking
flower "Harryanum" is grotesque. The public is not interested in those
circumstances which give the name significance for a few, and if there
be any flower which demands an expressive title, it is this, in my
judgment. Possibly it was some Indian report which had slipped his
recollection that led Roezl to predict the discovery of a new
Odontoglot, unlike any other, in the very district where _Od. Harryanum_
was found after his death, though the story is quoted as an example of
that instinct which guides the heaven-born collector. The first plants
came unannounced in a small box sent by Señor Pantocha, of Colombia, to
Messrs. Horsman in 1885, and they were flowered next year by Messrs.
Veitch. The dullest who sees it can now imagine the excitement when this
marvel was displayed, coming from an unknown habitat. Roezl's
prediction occurred to many of his acquaintance, I have heard; but Mr.
Sander had a living faith in his old friend's sagacity. Forthwith he
despatched a collector to the spot which Roezl had named--but not
visited--and found the treasure. The legends of orchidology will be
gathered one day, perhaps; and if the editor be competent, his volume
should be almost as interesting to the public as to the cognoscenti.
I have been speaking hitherto of Colombian Odontoglossums, which are
reckoned among the hardiest of their class. Along with them, in the same
temperature, grow the cool Masdevallias, which probably are the most
difficult of all to transport. There was once a grand consignment of
_Masdevallia Schlimii_, which Mr. Roezl despatched on his own account.
It contained twenty-seven thousand plants of this species, representing
at that time a fortune. Mr. Roezl was the luckiest and most experienced
of collectors, and he took special pains with this unique shipment.
Among twenty-seven thousand two bits survived when the cases were
opened; the agent hurried them off to Stevens's auction-rooms, and sold
them forthwith at forty guineas each. But I must stick to
Odontoglossums. Speculative as is the business of importing the northern
species, to gather those of Peru and Ecuador is almost desperate. The
roads of Colombia are good, the population civilized, conveniences
abound, if we compare that region with the orchid-bearing territories of
the south. There is a fortune to be secured by anyone who will bring to
market a lot of _O. noeveum_ in fair condition. Its habitat is
perfectly well known. I am not aware that it has a delicate
constitution; but no collector is so rash or so enthusiastic as to try
that adventure again, now that its perils are understood; and no
employer is so reckless as to urge him. The true variety of _O. Hallii_
stands in much the same case. To obtain it the explorer must march in
the bed of a torrent and on the face of a precipice alternately for an
uncertain period of time, with a river to cross about every day. And he
has to bring back his loaded mules, or Indians, over the same pathless
waste. The Roraima Mountain begins to be regarded as quite easy travel
for the orchid-hunter nowadays. If I mention that the canoe-work on this
route demands thirty-two portages, thirty-two loadings and unloadings of
the cargo, the reader can judge what a "difficult road" must be.
Ascending the Roraima, Mr. Dressel, collecting for Mr. Sander, lost his
herbarium in the Essequibo River. Savants alone are able to estimate the
awful nature of the crisis when a comrade looses his grip of that
treasure. For them it is needless to add that everything else went to
the bottom.[2]
One is tempted to linger among the Odontoglots, though time is pressing.
In no class of orchids are natural hybrids so mysterious and frequent.
Sometimes one can detect the parentage; in such cases, doubtless, the
crossing occurred but a few generations back: as a rule, however, such
plants are the result of breeding in and in from age to age, causing all
manner of delightful complications. How many can trace the lineage of
Mr. Bull's _Od. delectabile_--ivory white, tinged with rose, strikingly
blotched with red and showing a golden labellum? or Mr. Sander's _Od.
Alberti-Edwardi_, which has a broad soft margin of gold about its
stately petals? Another is rosy white, closely splashed with pale
purple, and dotted round the edge with spots of the same tint so thickly
placed that they resemble a fringe. Such marvels turn up in an
importation without the slightest warning--no peculiarity betrays them
until the flowers open; when the lucky purchaser discovers that a plant
for which he gave perhaps a shilling is worth an indefinite number of
guineas.
Lycaste also is a genus peculiar to America, such a favourite among
those who know its merits that the species _L. Skinneri_ is called the
"Drawing-Room Flower." Professor Reichenbach observes in his superb
volume that many people utterly ignorant of orchids grow this plant in
their miscellaneous collection. I speak of it without prejudice, for to
my mind the bloom is stiff, heavy, and poor in colour. But there are
tremendous exceptions. In the first place, _Lycaste Skinneri alba_, the
pure white variety, beggars all description. Its great flower seems to
be sculptured in the snowiest of transparent marble. That stolid
pretentious air which offends one--offends me, at least--in the coloured
examples, becomes virginal dignity in this case. Then, of the normal
type there are more than a hundred variations recognized, some with lips
as deep in tone, and as smooth in texture, as velvet, of all shades from
maroon to brightest crimson. It will be understood that I allude to the
common forms in depreciating this species. How vast is the difference
between them, their commercial value shows. Plants of the same size and
the same species range from 3s. 6d. to 35 guineas, or more
indefinitely.
Lycastes are found in the woods, of Guatemala especially, and I have
heard no such adventures in the gathering of them as attend
Odontoglossums. Easily obtained, easily transported, and remarkably easy
to grow, of course they are cheap. A man must really "give his mind to
it" to kill a Lycaste. This counts for much, no doubt, in the popularity
of the genus, but it has plenty of other virtues. _L. Skinneri_ opens in
the depth of winter, and all the rest, I think, in the dull months.
Then, they are profuse of bloom, throwing up half a dozen spikes, or, in
some species, a dozen, from a single bulb, and the flowers last a
prodigious time. Their extraordinary thickness in every part enables
them to withstand bad air and changes of temperature, so that ladies
keep them on a drawing-room table, night and day, for months, without
change perceptible. Mr. Williams names an instance where a _L.
Skinneri_, bought in full bloom on February 2, was kept in a
sitting-room till May 18, when the purchaser took it back, still
handsome. I have heard cases more surprising. Of species somewhat less
common there is _L. aromatica_, a little gem, which throws up an
indefinite number of short spikes, each crowned with a greenish yellow
triangular sort of cup, deliciously scented. I am acquainted with no
flower that excites such enthusiasm among ladies who fancy Messrs.
Liberty's style of toilette; sad experience tells me that ten
commandments or twenty will not restrain them from appropriating it. _L.
cruenta_ is almost as tempting. As for _L. leucanthe_, an exquisite
combination of pale green and snow white, it ranks with _L. Skinneri
alba_ as a thing too beautiful for words. This species has not been long
introduced, and at the moment it is dear proportionately. There is yet
another virtue of the Lycaste which appeals to the expert. It lends
itself readily to hybridization. This most fascinating pursuit attracts
few amateurs as yet, and the professionals have little time or
inclination for experiments. They naturally prefer to make such crosses
as are almost certain to pay. Thus it comes about that the hybridization
of Lycastes has been attempted but recently, and none of the seedlings,
so far as I can learn, have flowered. They have been obtained, however,
in abundance, not only from direct crossing, but also from alliance with
Zygopetalum, Anguloa, and Maxillaria.
The genus Cypripedium, Lady's Slipper, is perhaps more widely scattered
over the globe than any other class of plant; I, at least, am acquainted
with none that approaches it. From China to Peru--nay, beyond, from
Archangel to Torres Straits,--but it is wise to avoid these semi-poetic
descriptions. In brief, if we except Africa and the temperate parts of
Australia, there is no large tract of country in the world that does not
produce Cypripediums; and few authorities doubt that a larger
acquaintance with those realms will bring them under the rule. We have a
species in England, _C. calceolus_, by no means insignificant; it can be
purchased from the dealers, but it is almost extinct in this country
now. America furnishes a variety of species; which ought to be hardy.
They will bear a frost below zero, but our winter damp is intolerable.
Mr. Godseff tells me that he has seen _C. spectabile_ growing like any
water-weed in the bogs of New Jersey, where it is frozen hard, roots and
all, for several months of the year; but very few survive the season in
this country, even if protected. Those fine specimens so common at our
spring shows are imported in the dry state. From the United States also
we get the charming _C. candidum_, _C. parviflorum_, _C. pubescens_, and
many more less important. Canada and Siberia furnish _C. guttatum_, _C.
macranthum_, and others. I saw in Russia, and brought home, a
magnificent species, tall and stately, bearing a great golden flower,
which is not known "in the trade;" but they all rotted gradually.
Therefore I do not recommend these fine outdoor varieties, which the
inexperienced are apt to think so easy. At the same cost others may be
bought, which, coming from the highlands of hot countries, are used to a
moderate damp in winter.
Foremost of these, perhaps the oldest of cool orchids in cultivation, is
_C. insigne_, from Nepal. Everyone knows its original type, which has
grown so common that I remarked a healthy pot at a window-garden
exhibition some years ago in Westminster. One may say that this, the
early and familiar form, has no value at present, so many fine varieties
have been introduced. A reader may form a notion of the difference when
I state that a small plant of exceptional merit sold for thirty guineas
a short time ago--it was _C. insigne_, but glorified. This ranks among
the fascinations of orchid culture. You may buy a lot of some common
kind, imported, at a price representing coppers for each individual, and
among them may appear, when they come to bloom, an eccentricity which
sells for a hundred pounds or more. The experienced collector has a
volume of such legends. There is another side to the question, truly,
but it does not personally interest the class which I address. To make a
choice among numberless stories of this sort, we may take the instance
of _C. Spicerianum_.
It turned up among a quantity of _Cypripedium insigne_ in the
greenhouse of Mrs. Spicer, a lady residing at Twickenham. Astonished at
the appearance of this swan among her ducks, she asked Mr. Veitch to
look at it. He was delighted to pay seventy guineas down for such a
prize. Cypripediums propagate easily, no more examples came into the
market, and for some years this lovely species was a treasure for dukes
and millionaires. It was no secret that the precious novelty came from
Mrs. Spicer's greenhouse; but to call on a strange lady and demand how
she became possessed of a certain plant is not a course of action that
commends itself to respectable business men. The circumstances gave no
clue. Messrs. Spicer were and are large manufacturers of paper; there is
no visible connection betwixt paper and Indian orchids. By discreet
inquiries, however, it was ascertained that one of the lady's sons had a
tea-plantation in Assam. No more was needed. By the next mail Mr.
Forstermann started for that vague destination, and in process of time
reached Mr. Spicer's bungalow. There he asked for "a job." None could be
found for him; but tea-planters are hospitable, and the stranger was
invited to stop a day or two. But he could not lead the conversation
towards orchids--perhaps because his efforts were too clever, perhaps
because his host took no interest in the subject. One day, however, Mr.
Spicer's manager invited him to go shooting, and casually remarked "we
shall pass the spot where I found those orchids they're making such a
fuss about at home." Be sure Mr. Forstermann was alert that morning!
Thus put upon the track, he discovered quantities of it, bade the
tea-planter adieu, and went to work; but in the very moment of triumph a
tiger barred the way, his coolies bolted, and nothing would persuade
them to go further. Mr. Forstermann was no shikari, but he felt himself
called upon to uphold the cause of science and the honour of England at
this juncture. In great agitation he went for that feline, and, in
short, its skin still adorns Mrs. Sander's drawing-room. Thus it
happened that on a certain Thursday a small pot of _C. Spicerianum_ was
sold, as usual, for sixty guineas at Stevens's; on the Thursday
following all the world could buy fine plants at a guinea.
Cypripedium is the favourite orchid of the day. It has every advantage,
except, to my perverse mind--brilliancy of colour. None show a whole
tone; even the lovely _C. niveum_ is not pure white. My views, however,
find no backing. At all other points the genus deserves to be a
favourite. In the first place, it is the most interesting of all orchids
to science.[3] Then its endless variations of form, its astonishing
oddities, its wide range of hues, its easy culture, its readiness to
hybridize and to ripen seed, the certainty, by comparison, of rearing
the proceeds, each of these merits appeals to one or other of
orchid-growers. Many of the species which come from torrid lands,
indeed, are troublesome, but with such we are not concerned. The cool
varieties will do well anywhere, provided they receive water enough in
summer, and not too little in winter. I do not speak of the American and
Siberian classes, which are nearly hopeless for the amateur, nor of the
Hong-Kong _Cypripedium purpuratum_, a very puzzling example.
On the roll of martyrs to orchidology, Mr. Pearce stands high. To him we
owe, among many fine things, the hybrid Begonias which are becoming such
favourites for bedding and other purposes. He discovered the three
original types, parents of the innumerable "garden flowers" now on
sale--_Begonia Pearcii_, _B. Veitchii_, and _B. Boliviensis_. It was his
great luck, and great honour, to find _Masdevallia Veitchii_--so long,
so often, so laboriously searched for from that day to this, but never
even heard of. To collect another shipment of that glorious orchid, Mr.
Pearce sailed for Peru, in the service, I think, of Mr. Bull.
Unhappily--for us all as well as for himself--he was detained at Panama.
Somewhere in those parts there is a magnificent Cypripedium with which
we are acquainted only by the dried inflorescence, named _planifolium_.
The poor fellow could not resist this temptation. They told him at
Panama that no white man had returned from the spot, but he went on. The
Indians brought him back, some days or weeks later, without the prize;
and he died on arrival.
Oncidiums also are a product of the New World exclusively; in fact, of
the four classes most useful to amateurs, three belong wholly to
America, and the fourth in great part. I resist the temptation to
include Masdevallia, because that genus is not so perfectly easy as the
rest; but if it be added, nine-tenths, assuredly, of the plants in our
cool house come from the West. Among the special merits of the Oncidium
is its colour. I have heard thoughtless persons complain that they are
"all yellow;" which, as a statement of fact, is near enough to the
truth, for about three-fourths may be so described roughly. But this
dispensation is another proof of Nature's kindly regard for the
interests of our science. A clear, strong, golden yellow is the colour
that would have been wanting in our cool houses had not the Oncidium
supplied it. Shades of lemon and buff are frequent among Odontoglossums,
but, in a rough, general way of speaking, they have a white ground.
Masdevallias give us scarlet and orange and purple; Lycastes, green and
dull yellow; Sophronitis, crimson; Mesospinidium, rose, and so forth.
Blue must not be looked for. Even counting the new Utricularia for an
orchid, as most people do, there are, I think, but five species that
will live among us at present, in all the prodigious family, showing
this colour; and every one of them is very "hot." Thus it appears that
the Oncidium fills a gap--and how gloriously! There is no such pure gold
in the scheme of the universe as it displays under fifty shapes
wondrously varied. Thus--_Oncidium macranthum!_ one is continually
tempted to exclaim, as one or other glory of the orchid world recurs to
mind, that it is the supreme triumph of floral beauty. I have sinned
thus, and I know it. Therefore, let the reader seek an opportunity to
behold _O. macranthum_, and judge for himself. But it seems to me that
Nature gives us a hint. As though proudly conscious what a marvel it
will unfold, this superb flower often demands nine months to perfect
itself. Dr. Wallace told me of an instance in his collection where
eighteen months elapsed from the appearance of the spike until the
opening of the first bloom. But it lasts a time proportionate.
[Illustration: ONCIDIUM MACRANTHUM
Reduced to One Sixth]
Nature forestalled the dreams of æsthetic colourists when she designed
_Oncidium macranthum_. Thus, and not otherwise, would the thoughtful of
them arrange a "harmony" in gold and bronze; but Nature, with
characteristic indifference to the fancies of mankind, hid her
_chef-d'oeuvre_ in the wilds of Ecuador. Hardly less striking,
however, though perhaps less beautiful, are its sisters of the
"small-lipped" species--_Onc. serratum_, _O. superbiens_, and _O.
sculptum_. This last is rarely seen. As with others of its class, the
spike grows very long, twelve feet perhaps, if it were allowed to
stretch. The flowers are small comparatively, clear bronze-brown, highly
polished, so closely and daintily frilled round the edges that a fairy
goffering-iron could not give more regular effects, and outlined by a
narrow band of gold. _Onc. serratum_ has a much larger bloom, but less
compact, rather fly-away indeed, its sepals widening gracefully from a
narrow neck. Excessively curious is the disposition of the petals, which
close their tips to form a circle of brown and gold around the column.
The purpose of this extraordinary arrangement--unique among orchids, I
believe--will be discovered one day, for purpose there is, no doubt; to
judge by analogy, it may be supposed that the insect upon which _Onc.
serratum_ depends for fertilization likes to stand upon this ring while
thrusting its proboscis into the nectary. The fourth of these fine
species, _Onc. superbiens_, ranks among the grandest of flowers--knowing
its own value, it rarely consents to "oblige;" the dusky green sepals
are margined with yellow, petals white, clouded with pale purple, lip
very small, of course, purple, surmounted by a great golden crest.
Most strange and curious is _Onc. fuscatum_, of which the shape defies
description. Seen from the back, it shows a floriated cross of equal
limbs; but in front the nethermost is hidden by a spreading lip, very
large proportionately. The prevailing tint is a dun-purple, but each arm
has a broad white tip. Dun-purple, also, is the centre of the labellum,
edged with a distinct band of lighter hue, which again, towards the
margin, becomes white. These changes of tone are not gradual, but as
clear as a brush could make them. Botanists must long to dissect this
extraordinary flower, but the opportunity seldom occurs. It is
desperately puzzling to understand how nature has packed away the
component parts of its inflorescence, so as to resolve them into four
narrow arms and a labellum. But the colouring of this plant is not
always dull. In the small Botanic Garden at Florence, by Santa Maria
Maggiore, I remarked with astonishment an _Onc. fuscatum_, of which the
lip was scarlet-crimson and the other tints bright to match. That
collection is admirably grown, but orchids are still scarce in Italy.
The Society did not know what a prize it had secured by chance.
The genus Oncidium has, perhaps, more examples of a startling
combination in hues than any other--but one must speak thoughtfully and
cautiously upon such points.
I have not to deal with culture, but one hint may be given. Gardeners
who have a miscellaneous collection to look after, often set themselves
against an experiment in orchid-growing because these plants suffer
terribly from green-fly and other pests, and will not bear "smoking." To
keep them clean and healthy by washing demands labour for which they
have no time. This is a very reasonable objection. But though the smoke
of tobacco is actual ruination, no plant whatever suffers from the steam
thereof. An ingenious Frenchman has invented and patented in England
lately a machine called the Thanatophore, which I confidently
recommend. It can be obtained from Messrs. B.S. Williams, of Upper
Holloway. The Thanatophore destroys every insect within reach of its
vapour, excepting, curiously enough, scaly-bug, which, however, does not
persecute cool orchids much. The machine may be obtained in different
sizes through any good ironmonger.
To sum up: these plants ask nothing in return for the measureless
enjoyment they give but light, shade from the summer sun, protection
from the winter frost, moisture--and brains.
* * * * *
I am allowed to print a letter which bears upon several points to which
I have alluded. It is not cheerful reading for the enthusiast. He will
be apt to cry, "Would that the difficulties and perils were infinitely
graver--so grave that the collecting grounds might have a rest for
twenty years!"
_January 19th, 1893._
DEAR SIR,