The Woodlands Orchids, Described and Illustrated

‘Note.– These magnolia slabs were placed in a green-house, not in the “eyrie.”’

It is hardly worth while to quote the list of seedlings obtained by Mr. Mead through crossing plants of the same genus. But here are some successes which, very few years ago, would have been declared flatly impossible – as impossible as a fertile union betwixt cat and dog.

Cattleya amethystoglossa × Epidendrum O’Brienianum; a few plants alive.

Cattleya amethystoglossa × Epid. radicans; two plants alive.

Schomburgkia undulata × Epid. radicans; several plants.

Cattleya Bowringiana × Epid. cochleatum; several plants.

Epidendrum nocturnum × Epid. osmanthum and Epid. cucullatum, pollen mixed; several plants.

Cattleya Bowringiana × Epid. osmanthum (Godseffianum); three plants.

Bletia verecunda × Schomburgkia tibicinis; several plants.

Bletia verecunda × Calopogon pulchellus; one or two plants.

Schomburgkia tibicinis × Laelia purpurata; one plant.

The discovery that fertile unions may be concerted between species, and even genera, differing in all visible respects, gives profound interest to the study of hybridisation in the scientific point of view. We have gone so far already that classifications which appeared to be unquestionable have been rudely upset. That Laelias and Cattleyas should combine is not surprising, even though one come from North Mexico and the other from South Brazil. But what shall we say when Epidendrums combine with both? – with Sophronitis, Zygopetalum! – nay, with Oncidium!! – with Dendrobium!!! Sobralia proves fertile with Cattleya; so does Sophronitis. Spathoglottis has been crossed with Bletia and with Phajus. Zygopetalum with Colax, with Oncidium, with Epidendrum, with Odontoglossum. Schomburgkia with Laelia and Bletia. Combinations even more astonishing are reported, but for those named there is responsible authority.

I cannot go into detail; these remarks are designed only to call attention to the subject. Not all the bigeneric hybrids mentioned have flowered; and at the present time we have learned enough to be aware that possibly one parent will be ignored by the offspring – that a seedling of Epidendrum crossed with Dendrobium, for example, will bloom a pure Epidendrum or a pure Dendrobium of the species used; which in itself is sufficiently strange. But seedlings have actually been produced in every case which I have named. It is one of the fixed rules in biology that the offspring of different species must be barren – otherwise the parents are not truly species – and that different genera will not breed at all. But in most instances which have been brought to the test as yet, hybrid orchids of different species prove fertile, and some bigeneric crosses yield a progeny at least. What follows? Evidently that the genera or the species are not really distinct – in the cases given. Must we admit, then, that a Dendrobium of the Himalayas (crystallinum) does not differ generically from an Epidendrum of Mexico (radicans)?

This is not the place to argue it out; nor, in truth, would there be much profit in arguing the question while the number of facts to be adduced is still so small that error is not improbable. I hope I have made it clear that the hybridisation of orchids is the most fascinating of botanic studies at this time; which is all I have in view.

But professional ‘growers’ are not likely to help the cause of science much – no blame to them either. They cannot afford to make experiments which demand a great deal of time, and increasing attention, for years, from the most highly-paid of their staff – too probably remaining a dead loss after no small portion of a lifetime has been spent in bringing the produce to flower. A man of business must make such crosses as are most likely to pay in the shortest time – easy species, big, highly coloured. Under the best conditions he must wait three to six years, perhaps ten, or even more. Evidently the most valuable hybridisations in a scientific point of view would be those least likely to succeed; all would be doubtful, all would require a long term of years, and most would not ‘sell’ in the end probably. Such work is for amateurs.

I can mention only a few of the Cypripediums here which seem most notable, and it will always remain dubious whether I have chosen the best examples.

Bellatulum eximium.– The dorsal is small, low and spreading, white, with carmine specks along the edges, large red-chocolate spots inside. Petals closely depressed, mottled with carmine here and there at the edges, and spotted like the dorsal. Lip insignificant – white with a few small dots.

Olivia (tonsum × concolor). – Dorsal white above, changing to pink; base greenish, slenderly feathered with carmine. Petals bowed, flushed with pink, pink lined, dotted with carmine. Slipper pink, deepening to carmine along the front, fading at the toe.

M. Finet (callosum superbum × Godefroyae). – White with a faint rosy blush. At the base of the dorsal is a greenish tinge, which reappears somewhat stronger on the petals. There are a few specks of crimson on the latter, and a few crimson markings at the top of the slipper.

Gertrude Hollington (ciliolare × bellatulum). – A flower of remarkable size. The dorsal is low but exceedingly broad; white, very strongly scored with crimson. Upon the scores stand spots of maroon, and a crimson splash follows the midrib. The great broad petals are white of ground, but obscured at the base by a cloud of crimson-maroon, save the edges. Crimson lines, carrying spots and specks of maroon, overrun the whole. Slipper purplish crimson.

Macropterum (Lowii × superbiens). – Dorsal green, darker below. Petals long, curving downwards, greenish at base, heavily spotted; the ends clouded with purple. Slipper large, tawny purple.

Bellatulum album.– The pure white variety of this striking species, so densely spotted in its normal form. It was discovered by Mr. R. Moore when Assistant-Commissioner of the Shan States in 1893. The dorsal is very low, spreading and depressed; the high-shouldered petals clasp the slipper close all round, in such manner that their ends hang below its tip. Grandly beautiful.

Baconis (chlorops × Schlimii). – Very small, rosy. Sepals scored with a brighter hue. They reverse half their length, showing the back of brilliant rose. Slipper carmine.

H. Ballantine (purpuratum × Fairieanum). – Dorsal rosy white, ribbed with dark crimson branching lines. Petals greenish, lined, dotted, and edged with coppery crimson. Slipper purple above, green below, handsomely lined with crimson.

Barbato-bellatulum.– Takes after the latter parent in shape, but all purple; the white-edged dorsal lined and the petals finely spotted with a darker tint.

Mrs. E. Cohen (callosum × niveum). – All pinkish white, suffused with crimson, lined with crimson and speckled with purple. Slipper carmine-purple.

Cardinale (Sedenii × Schlimii-albiflorum). – Takes its name from the carmine slipper. White in general colour; the petals have a rosy base and rosy tips.

Chrysocomes (caudatum Warcewiczii × conchiferum). – Dorsal greenish-yellow, edged with white. Its tip or crest is most extraordinary, hanging forward like a tongue between high jaws curved and serrated. The ochreous-greenish petals have an edging of crimson and an outer edging of white, prettily frilled and gauffered. They twine and twist through a length of ten or twelve inches, showing the crimson reverse.

Claudii (Spicerianum × vernixium). – The dorsal is white above, with a strong purple midrib, and a purple flush towards the edge; the base is olive green. Petals olive green, shaded in a darker hue, and tipped with purple. The slipper purple above, green below.

Beeckmanii (Boxalli sup. × bellatulum). – The yellow-green dorsal is broadly margined in its upper part with white, and marked profusely with large crimson-brown spots. The petals are depressed, spreading like wings, of madder-purple hue, lined and spotted, the lower margin greenish. Slipper dark purple, with a greenish toe.

Bellatulum egregium.– Doubtless a natural hybrid. The depressed dorsal is pale green, spotted with pink in lines. Petals and slipper white above, pale greenish below, with large pink spots all over. A most remarkable variety.

Brownii (leucorrhodum × longifl. magnificum). – The dorsal takes a very singular form. Narrow and almost rectangular, it is sharply constricted towards the top, then widens out again like the ace of spades. The colour is white, touched with green and rose. Petals long, narrow, with an edging of carmine, and outer edging of white; as they reverse towards the tip the colour is all rose. Big broad slipper, rosy, prettily spotted with carmine on the white lining.

Antigone (Lawrenceanum × niveum). – The big dorsal sepal is pink with a white border. Strong branching ribs of crimson spring from a base of vivid green and form a network. The drooping petals show a deeper pink, with similar lines and maroon specks; as does the slipper.

H. Hannington (villosum × fascinator). – The great dorsal bears a purple mauve cloud within its broad white margin, changing to dusky green at the base and scored with branching lines of somewhat darker mauve. Petals and lip greenish ochre, frilled and shining, lined with brown in dots.

Hector (Leeanum var. × Sallierii var.) – Dorsal white with a greenish-blue centre, traversed by dull brown lines. Petals yellow at the base, set with a quantity of short, stiff black hairs; changing to ochreous dun, the upper half bearing a dusky brownish network. Lip of the same dusky hue.

Myra (Chamberlainianum × Haynaldianum). – Tall, graceful in form as in colouring. The long narrow dorsal is pale green, edged with white. At the base is a patch of dusky chocolate and spots of the same tone run upward in lines. The pale-green petals, narrow and rectangular, bear a few large dun blotches outlined with chocolate; their tips reverse, showing a faint mauve tint.

Aphrodite superbum (niveum × Lawrenceanum). – The same parentage reversed; as usual the produce is quite dissimilar. Its colour is white, purple-tinged except the margin, overlaid with a crimson network of dots. Another example from the same seed-pod has a palest pink network instead of crimson, and tiny dots of maroon. It looks like the ghost of its sister.

Arnoldiae (bellatulum × superciliare). – Whitish, with bold spots of crimson-brown arranged in lines upon the dorsal. Slipper purple-lake above, greenish below.

Arnoldianum (superbiens × concolor). – Dusky shining yellow, tinged at the edges with crimson, spotted and lined with the same. A hybrid remarkable for its shyness to flower.

Cyanides (Swanianum × bellatulum). – A dusky flower, of green and purple tones. The greenish dorsal is clouded at base, lined and spotted, with purple. Petals the same, but the spotting is darker and more distinct. Slipper clear purple.

Callosum Sanderae.– A sport or natural hybrid of most singular beauty. I remember the delighted amazement which possessed me when Mr. Sander unlocked a door and showed this exquisite flower just opening – a treasure hidden from all but the trustiest friends until it could be displayed at the Temple Show in 1894. The great dorsal sepal is white above, tender green in two shades below, with strong green lines ascending from the base. The petals, much depressed, are bright green, lined with a darker hue and tipped with white. The slipper yellowish-green.

It may be mentioned that the owner of this collection declined to accept 1000 guineas for his stock of callosum Sanderae three years after buying the original plant.

Aylingii (niveum × ciliolare). – Small, white ground. The dorsal and petals alike are boldly striped with carmine-crimson. Slipper all white.

Conco-Curtisii.– The triangular dorsal is bright green in the centre, with a dark crimson cloud at the base and crimson lines. The broad depressed petals are dark crimson, fading towards the tips, similarly lined. Slipper green at the toe, crimson above.

Conco-callosum.– The dorsal, almost a diamond in shape, is crimson, with darker lines extending from a greenish base; petals greenish, margined, lined and spotted with crimson. Slipper crimson-purple above, green below.

Alfred (laevigatum × venustum). – Strong ribs of crimson-brown circle up from a green base over the white dorsal, which is pointed sharply. The drooping twisted petals are brightest green above, with a white margin, changing to tawny crimson as they reverse. The whole heavily spotted with crimson-brown. Slipper green, broadly netted over with a darker tint.

Calloso-niveum.– Where the parentage is shown in the name it need not be expressed at full length. A pale flower, dorsal and sepals greenish at base, faintly tinged and lined with pink, dotted carmine.

Amphion (Harrisianum × Lawrenceanum). – The grand dorsal sepal – greenish-yellow, dotted and ribbed with coppery brown – has a broad white margin. Petals narrow and bowed, greenish at base, changing to copper; a few heavy dots. The slipper coppery.

Cowleyanum (Curtisii × niveum). – Dorsal low and spreading, purplish and lined with purple; the edges white. Petals purple, very much darker at base and tips, with a white outline above, and tiny speckles of purple. Purple slipper.

Conco-Lawre (concolor × Lawrenceanum). – Dorsal large, suffused and lined with purple, edged white. Petals green at base, margined and lined with crimson, with a few dots of chocolate. Slipper purplish above, greenish below.

Curtisii (Woodlands variety) does not depart from the ordinary form in its scheme of colouring, but all the hues are intensified, and the enormous slipper, tinged with green at the edge, is deepest crimson-maroon.

I may interrupt the dry enumeration with a story.

STORY OF CYPRIPEDIUM CURTISII

My tales do not commonly bear a moral. If one they have it is apt to be such as grandmamma teaches – foresight, perseverance, the habit of observation. Those virtues need no finger-post. They are illustrated by the story of Cypripedium Curtisii, and rewarded there, as they should be always, by a notable instance of luck. I have not heard of any special circumstances attending the first discovery of this plant. It was found in Sumatra by Mr. Curtis, travelling for Messrs. Veitch, in 1882 – a large green flower, margined and touched here and there with white, the pouch vinous purple. This brief and vague description may suffice for readers who take more interest in romance than in orchidology. Mr. Curtis did not tell the world at large where he found the treasure. It was his intention, doubtless, to work the mine himself. But after sending home the first fruits, he was offered the Directorship of the Botanic Gardens at Penang, and left Messrs. Veitch’s service. He may well have hoped to revisit Sumatra one day, but the opportunity never came. Messrs. Veitch knew the secret, doubtless, and kept it faithfully; but they took no steps. And so, the first consignment being scanty, no more arriving, and the plant growing in favour, Cypripedium Curtisii rose to famine price.

The St. Albans firm took note of this. The home of the new Cypriped was admitted. Sumatra yields a profitable harvest always, even of familiar species, and besides, there is an excellent chance – vastly stronger fifteen years ago – of finding novelties. An intelligent man upon the spot should be able to trace the route of an earlier traveller. One of the St. Albans staff was disengaged. In short, Mr. Ericsson, a Swedish collector of great experience, was commissioned to seek Cypripedium Curtisii. He sailed in 1884. Nearly five years did Ericsson wander up and down the island – that is, in the Dutch territory. Working at leisure from Bencoolin northwards, he searched the range of mountains which bounds it on the east, and often descended the further slope – visiting peoples scarcely known, whom the Dutch had not yet invaded. They proved to be amiable enough. Many fine orchids did he send home, and the issue of the search was patiently awaited at St. Albans.

It did not seem more hopeful as years went by. Mr. Curtis’s footsteps were traced easily enough here and there; but the Dutch frontier officials rarely speak any language but their own and the Malay, nor does their discourse generally turn upon orchids when they have a visitor. It was just as likely as not that Ericsson had already traversed the district he sought, without identifying it. Cypripeds, as a rule, occupy a very narrow area, especially the fine species. They are a doomed race, belonging to the elder world, and slowly following its inhabitants to extinction. That fascinating theme I must not touch; readers interested may refer to Darwin. The point is that a collector may skirt a field of Cypripeds very closely without suspecting his good fortune.

But travel in Sumatra at that time was more limited than it had been – more than it is now. The Achinese still held out – for that matter, while I am writing, comes news of a skirmish wherein three officers and nineteen soldiers lost their lives. Ten years ago that stubborn and fearless people not only defended their own soil but also made forays into the Dutch territory. Desperate patriots allied themselves with the Battas, a cannibal race dwelling between their country and the province of Tapanuli; and hatred to the white man – or rather to the Dutch – carried the Achinese so far, though strict Moslems, that they tempted these savages to move by a promise of surrendering all captives – to be devoured. Thus the northern parts of Dutch Sumatra were very unsafe. When Ericsson desired to explore there he was refused permission. At Padang, the capital, however, in 1887, he made acquaintance with the Controleur – Magistrate, as we should say – of Lubu Sikeping, a district which lies along the Batta country. This gentleman spoke Swedish – an accomplishment grateful beyond expression to Ericsson, who had not heard his native tongue for years. Promptly they made friends.

The Controleur had been summoned to report upon the state of things in his Residency. He presented a long list of outrages and murders. Scores, if not hundreds, of peaceful subjects had been not only plundered and killed, but eaten, on Dutch soil, in the last few months. He represented that active measures must be taken forthwith. The Battas, inhabiting a high tableland beyond the mountains, crept through the defile, ravaged, burnt, massacred, and trooped back, carrying their prisoners away for leisurely consumption. Before news of the inroad reached the nearest outpost they were half-way home. Smaller parties lay in wait along the roads, stopping all communication. They had not yet ventured to assail a post, or even a large village, but the Achin desperadoes urged them to bolder feats, and they grew continually more aggressive. An expedition must be sent. It need not be large, for the cannibals are not fighting men. The Governor was persuaded. He ordered a small force to be equipped, and meantime the Controleur returned to his station.

It was a rare opportunity for Ericsson. He begged permission to accompany his new friend, who good-naturedly presented him to the Governor. An historian may be allowed to say that the hero of this narrative is fat, and there is no offence in supposing that the most exalted functionary has a sense of humour. His Excellency appears to have been tickled. The cannibals would rage with disappointment in beholding this succulent mortal – beyond their reach. He laughed and consented. I have no details of the expedition striking enough to be set down in a brief chronicle like this. It was a slow and toilsome march through jungle and mountain passes, the Barizan range, where a score of determined men might have stopped an army. The Achinese proved that; they held the force at bay for hours in a gorge, though less than a score. But the Battas would not fight even when their capital was reached, on Lake Toba. The Rajahs submitted, paid an indemnity, gave hostages, yielded up the surviving victims, and undertook to have no more dealings with the Achinese. So the matter ended. Ericsson found some new plants in their country, and many old well worth collecting. Doubtless the results would have been far more important could he have wandered freely. But those demons of Achin hung upon the line of march, joyously sacrificing their own lives to kill a Dutchman. If his personal adventures were not so curious, however – perhaps I should rather say so dramatic – that I could single out one of them, Ericsson gained much information about an extraordinary people. I can only set down a few facts.

He says that the Battas themselves do not regard their cannibalism as an immemorial practice. They have a story, not worth repeating, to account for it. But I may observe that if Marco Polo’s ‘kingdom of Mangi, called Concha,’ lay in those parts, as geographers believe, some race of the neighbourhood was cannibal in the thirteenth century. ‘They commonly eat men’s flesh, if the person die not of sickness, as better tasted than others.’ That is the motive still – the only one adduced – mere liking. Elsewhere the practice may be due to superstition in one form or another; among the Battas it is simply gourmandise. The head Rajah questioned gave a matter-of-fact answer. ‘You Dutch eat pig,’ said he, ‘because you like it; we eat man because that is our fancy.’ To be devoured alive is the punishment of four offences among themselves – adultery, robbery after nightfall, unprovoked assault, and marrying within the clan; the last an interesting item of which Sir John Lubbock should certainly take note for his next edition of The Origin of Civilisation. The instinct of ‘exogamy’ has no such striking illustration elsewhere. As for foreigners and strangers there is no rule; they are devoured at sight. And it may well be believed that people so fond of eating one another do not demand unquestionable evidence when a man of low station is charged with one of the four crimes which may give them a meal. I must not repeat the horrors which Ericsson learned. Suffice it that the victim is tied up, and those present exercise their choice of morsels. At a former time, they say, not long ago, the flesh was cooked – a statement which confirms the theory, so far as it goes, of a recent introduction. At this present they dip the slice in salt and pepper and eat it on the spot.

A good many missionaries, English, Dutch, French, and American, have not only settled on the confines of the Batta territory, but have travelled in the interior. The earliest of these, Messrs. Ward and Burton, found the people kindly, which again must be noted as suggesting that they were not so ferocious in 1820. The second party, Messrs. Lyman and Munson, of Massachusetts, were eaten. Mdme. Pfeiffer nearly crossed the tableland unmolested, though the savages were not friendly; but, as she says, they regarded her as a witch. Encouraged by this example, three French priests made an attempt two years later; they were promptly devoured. Two Dutchmen shared their fate not long afterwards, and the Government forbade more experiments.

I have no room for detail, but one very curious point must be indicated. These cannibals unredeemed possess an alphabet of their own, bearing no resemblance to the Malay, which latter is a corrupt amalgamation of Arabian, Persian, and Tamil. The Batta characters are original. They write commonly on strips of bamboo, scratching the letters.

On the return of the expedition, a party of invalids was despatched to the local sanitarium on Selimbang Hill, and Ericsson obtained leave to accompany it. There was no danger now. A few huts had been built there for troops, and a bungalow for officers – who made him welcome, of course. They arrived at dusk. The officers went out early next morning to their duties, and Ericsson lay waiting for his coffee. The rough timbers of the bungalow were concealed by boards, smooth and neat. Invalids quartered there had amused themselves by scribbling their names. Some, more ambitious, added verses, epigrams, and caricatures; others, drawings and even paintings. From his bed-place Ericsson scrutinised these artless memorials in the early light. Presently he observed a flower – a Cypripedium; the shape could not be mistaken. It was coloured, but dimly – the tints had soaked into the wood. With professional interest his eye lingered on this sketch. And then the first sun-ray streamed across the verandah and fell upon the very spot. Its faded colours shone brightly for a moment, green, white margin, vinous purple – Ericsson sprang out of bed.