| to Dr. Lindley by Mr. W. Swainson, and
reached Liverpool in 1818. So much is certain, for Lindley makes the statement in his Collectanea Botanica. But legends and
myths encircle that great event. It is commonly told in books that
Sir W. Jackson Hooker, Regius Professor of Botany at Glasgow, begged
Mr. Swainson—who was collecting specimens in natural history—to send
him some lichens. He did so, and with the cases arrived a quantity
of orchids which had been used to pack them. Less suitable material
for "dunnage" could not be found, unless we suppose that it was
thrust between the boxes to keep them steady. Paxton is the
authority for this detail, which has its importance. The orchid
arriving in such humble fashion proved to be Cattleya labiata;
Lindley gave it that name—there was no need to add vera then. He
established a new genus for it, and thus preserved for all time the
memory of Mr. Cattley, a great horticulturist dwelling at Barnet.
There was no ground in supposing the species rare. A few years
afterwards, in fact, Mr. Gardner, travelling in pursuit of
butterflies and birds, sent home quantities of a Cattleya which he
found on the precipitous sides of the Pedro Bonita range, and also
on the Gavea, which our sailors call "Topsail" Mountain, or "Lord
Hood's Nose." These orchids passed as C. labiata for a while. Paxton
congratulated himself and the world in his Flower Garden
that the stock was so greatly increased. Those were the coaching
days, when botanists had not much opportunity for comparison. It is
to be observed, also, that Gardner's Cattleya was the nearest
relative of Swainson's;—it is known at present as C. labiata Warneri.
The true species, however, has points unmistakable. Some of its
kinsfolk show a double flower-sheath;—very, very rarely, under
exceptional circumstances. But Cattleya labiata vera never fails,
and an interesting question it is to resolve why this alone should
be so carefully protected. One may cautiously surmise that its
habitat is even damper than others'. In the next place, some plants
have their leaves red underneath, others green, and the
flower-sheath always corresponds; this peculiarity is shared by C.l.
Warneri alone. Thirdly—and there is the grand distinction, the one
which gives such extreme value to the species—it flowers in the late
autumn, and thus fills a gap. Those who possess a plant may have
Cattleyas in bloom the whole year round—and they alone. Accordingly,
it makes a section by itself in the classification of Reichenbachia,
as the single species that flowers from the current year's growth,
after resting. Section II. contains the species that flower from the
current year's growth before resting. Section III., those
that flower from last year's growth after resting. All these are
many, but C.l. vera stands alone. We have no need to dwell upon
the contest that arose at the introduction of Cattleya Mossiæ in
1840, which grew more and more bitter as others of the class came
in, and has not yet ceased. It is enough to say that Lindley
declined to recognize C. Mossiæ as a species, though he stood almost
solitary against "the trade," backed by a host of enthusiastic
amateurs. The great botanist declared that he could see nothing in
the beautiful new Cattleya to distinguish it as a species from the
one already named, C. labiata, except that most variable of
characteristics, colour. Modes of growth and times of flowering do
not concern science. The structure of the plants is identical, and
to admit C. Mossiæ as a sub-species of the same was the utmost
concession Lindley would make. This was in 1840. Fifteen years later
came C. Warscewiczi, now called gigas; then, next year, C. Trianæ;
C. Dowiana in 1866; C. Mendellii in 1870—all labiatas, strictly
speaking. At each arrival the controversy was renewed; it is not
over yet. But Sir Joseph Hooker succeeded Lindley and Reichenbach
succeeded Hooker as the supreme authority, and each of them
stood firm. There are, of course, many Cattleyas recognized as
species, but Lindley's rule has been maintained. We may return to
the lost orchid.
As time went on, and the merits of C. labiata vera were understood,
the few specimens extant—proceeding from Mr. Swainson's
importation—fetched larger and larger prices. Those merits, indeed,
were conspicuous. Besides the season of flowering, this proved to be
the strongest and most easily grown of Cattleyas. Its normal type
was at least as charming as any, and it showed an extraordinary
readiness to vary. Few, as has been said, were the plants in
cultivation, but they gave three distinct varieties. Van Houtte
shows us two in his admirable Flore des Serres; C.l. candida, from
Syon House, pure white excepting the ochrous throat—which is
invariable—and C.l. picta, deep red, from the collection of J.J.
Blandy, Esq., Reading. The third was C.l. Pescatorei, white, with a
deep red blotch upon the lip, formerly owned by Messrs.
Rouget-Chauvier, of Paris, now by the Duc de Massa.
Under such circumstances the dealers began to stir in earnest. From
the first, indeed, the more enterprising had made efforts to import
a plant which, as they supposed, must be a common weed at
Rio, since men used it to "pack" boxes. But that this was an error
they soon perceived. Taking the town as a centre, collectors pushed
out on all sides. Probably there is not one of the large dealers, in
England or the Continent, dead or living, who has not spent money—a
large sum, too—in searching for C. l. vera. Probably, also, not one
has lost by the speculation, though never a sign nor a hint,
scarcely a rumour, of the thing sought rewarded them. For all
secured new orchids, new bulbs—Eucharis in especial—Dipladenias,
Bromeliaceæ, Calladiums, Marantas, Aristolochias, and what not. In
this manner the lost orchid has done immense service to botany and
to mankind. One may say that the hunt lasted seventy years, and led
collectors to strike a path through almost every province of
Brazil—almost, for there are still vast regions unexplored. A man
might start, for example, at Para, and travel to Bogota, two
thousand miles or so, with a stretch of six hundred miles on either
hand which is untouched. It may well be asked what Mr. Swainson was
doing, if alive, while his discovery thus agitated the world. Alive
he was, in New Zealand, until the year 1855, but he offered no
assistance. It is scarcely to be doubted that he had none to give.
The orchids fell in his way by accident—possibly collected
in distant parts by some poor fellow who died at Rio. Swainson
picked them up, and used them to stow his lichens.
Not least extraordinary, however, in this extraordinary tale is the
fact that various bits of C.l. vera turned up during this time. Lord
Home has a noble specimen at Bothwell Castle, which did not come
from Swainson's consignment. His gardener told the story five years
ago. "I am quite sure," he wrote, "that my nephew told me the small
bit I had from him"—forty years before—"was off a newly-imported
plant, and I understood it had been brought by one of Messrs.
Horsfall's ships." Lord Fitzwilliam seems to have got one in the
same way, from another ship. But the most astonishing case is
recent. About seven years ago two plants made their appearance in
the Zoological Gardens at Regent's Park—in the conservatory behind
Mr. Bartlett's house. How they got there is an eternal mystery. Mr.
Bartlett sold them for a large sum; but an equal sum offered him for
any scrap of information showing how they came into his hands he was
sorrowfully obliged to refuse—or, rather, found himself unable to
earn. They certainly arrived in company with some monkeys; but when,
from what district of South America, the closest search of
his papers failed to show. In 1885, Dr. Regel, Director of the
Imperial Gardens at St. Petersburg, received a few plants. It may be
worth while to name those gentlemen who recently possessed examples
of C.l. vera, so far as our knowledge goes. They were Sir Trevor
Lawrence, Lord Rothschild, Duke of Marlborough, Lord Home, Messrs.
J. Chamberlain, T. Statten, J.J. Blandy, and G. Hardy, in England;
in America, Mr. F.L. Ames, two, and Mr. H.H. Hunnewell; in France,
Comte de Germiny, Duc de Massa, Baron Alphonse and Baron Adolf de
Rothschild, M. Treyeran of Bordeaux. There were two, as is believed,
in Italy.
And now the horticultural papers inform us that the lost orchid is
found, by Mr. Sander of St. Albans. Assuredly he deserves his
luck—if the result of twenty years' labour should be so described.
It was about 1870, we believe, that Mr. Sander sent out Arnold, who
passed five years in exploring Venezuela. He had made up his mind
that the treasure must not be looked for in Brazil. Turning next to
Colombia, in successive years, Chesterton, Bartholomeus, Kerbach,
and the brothers Klaboch overran that country. Returning to Brazil,
his collectors, Oversluys, Smith, Bestwood, went over every foot of
the ground which Swainson seems, by his books, to have
traversed. At the same time Clarke followed Gardner's track through
the Pedro Bonita and Topsail Mountains. Then Osmers traced the whole
coast-line of the Brazils from north to south, employing five years
in the work. Finally, Digance undertook the search, and died this
year. To these men we owe grand discoveries beyond counting. To name
but the grandest, Arnold found Cattleya Percevaliana; from Colombia
were brought Odont. vex. rubellum, Bollea cœlestis, Pescatorea
Klabochorum; Smith sent Cattleya O'Brieniana; Clarke the dwarf
Cattleyas, pumila and præstans; Lawrenceson Cattleya Schroederæ;
Chesterton Cattleya Sanderiana; Digance Cattleya Diganceana, which
received a Botanical certificate from the Royal Horticultural
Society on September 8th, 1890. But they heard not a whisper of the
lost orchid.
In 1889 a collector employed by M. Moreau, of Paris, to explore
Central and North Brazil in search of insects, sent home fifty
plants—for M. Moreau is an enthusiast in orchidology also. He had no
object in keeping the secret of its habitat, and when Mr. Sander,
chancing to call, recognized the treasure so long lost, he gave
every assistance. Meanwhile, the International Horticultural Society
of Brussels had secured a quantity, but they regarded it as
new, and gave it the name of Catt. Warocqueana; in which error they
persisted until Messrs. Sander flooded the market.
About Orchids
About Orchids, 1893 |
