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I hear of one gentleman, however, who appears to be cultivating
orchids with success. This is Mr. Rand, dwelling on the Rio Negro, in Brazil,
where he has established a plantation of Hevia Brazilienses, a new caoutchouc of
the highest quality, indigenous to those parts. Some years ago Mr. Rand wrote to
Mr. Godseff, at St. Albans, begging plants of Vanda Sanderiana and other
Oriental species, which were duly forwarded. In return he despatched some pieces
of a new Epidendrum, named in his honour E. Randii, a noble flower, with brown
sepals and petals, the lip crimson, betwixt two large white wings. This and
others native to the Rio Negro Mr. Rand is propagating on a large scale in
shreds of bamboo, especially a white Cattleya superba which he himself
discovered. It is pleasing to add that by latest reports all the Oriental
species were thriving to perfection on the other side of the Atlantic.
Vandas, indeed, should flourish where Cattleya
superba is at home, or anything else that loves the atmosphere of a kitchen on
washing-day at midsummer. Though all the Cattleyas, or very nearly all, will
"do" in an intermediate house, several prefer the stove. Of two among them, C.
Dowiana and C. aurea, I spoke in the preceding chapter with an enthusiasm that
does not bear repetition. Cattleya guttata Leopoldi grows upon rocks in the
little island of Sta. Catarina, Brazil, in company with Lślia elegans and L.
purpurata. There the four dwelt in such numbers only twenty years ago that the
supply was thought inexhaustible. It has come to an end already, and collectors
no longer visit the spot. Cliffs and ravines which men still young can recollect
ablaze with colour, are as bare now as a stone-quarry. Nature had done much to
protect her treasures; they flourished mostly in places which the human foot
cannot reach—Lślia elegans and Cattleya g. Leopoldi inextricably entwined,
clinging to the face of lofty rocks. The blooms of the former are white and
mauve, of the latter chocolate-brown, spotted with dark red, the lip purple. A
wondrous sight that must have been in the time of flowering. It is lost now,
probably for ever. Natives went down, suspended on a rope, and swept the whole
circuit of the island, year by year. A few specimens remain in nooks absolutely
inaccessible, but those happy mortals who possess a bit of L. elegans should
treasure it, for more are very seldom forthcoming. Lślia elegans Statteriana is
the finest variety perhaps; the crimson velvet tip of its labellum is as clearly
and sharply-defined upon the snow-white surface as pencil could draw; it looks
like painting by the steadiest of hands in angelic colour. C. g. Leopoldi has
been found elsewhere. It is deliciously scented. I observed a plant at St.
Albans lately with three spikes, each bearing over twenty flowers; many strong
perfumes there were in the house, but that overpowered them all. The Lślia
purpurata of Sta. Catarina, to which the finest varieties in cultivation belong,
has shared the same fate. It occupied boulders jutting out above the swamps in
the full glare of tropic sunshine. Many gardeners give it too much shade. This
species grows also on the mainland, but of inferior quality in all respects;
curiously enough it dwells upon trees there, even though rocks be at hand, while
the island variety, I believe, was never found on timber.
Another hot Cattleya of the highest class is C.
Acklandić It belongs to the dwarf section of the genus, and inexperienced
persons are vastly surprised to see such a little plant bearing two flowers on a
spike, each larger than itself. They are four inches in diameter, petals and
sepals chocolate-brown, barred with yellow, lip large, of colour varying from
rose to purple. C. Acklandić is found at Bahia, where it grows side by side with
C. amethystoglossa, also a charming species, very tall, leafless to the tip of
its pseudo-bulbs. Thus the dwarf beneath is seen in all its beauty. As
they cling together in great masses the pair must make a flower-bed to
themselves—above, the clustered spikes of C. amethystoglossa, dusky-lilac,
purple-spotted, with a lip of amethyst; upon the ground the rich chocolate and
rose of C. Acklandić.
Cattleya superba, as has been said, dwells also on the Rio Negro in Brazil; it
has a wide range, for specimens have been sent from the Rio Meta in Colombia.
This species is not loved by gardeners, who find it difficult to cultivate and
almost impossible to flower, probably because they cannot give it sunshine
enough. I have heard that Baron Hruby, a Hungarian enthusiast in our science,
has no sort of trouble; wonders, indeed, are reported of that admirable
collection, where all the hot orchids thrive like weeds. The Briton may find
comfort in assuming that cool species are happier beneath his cloudy skies; if
he be prudent, he will not seek to verify the assumption. The Assistant Curator
of Kew assures us, in his excellent little work, "Orchids," that the late Mr.
Spyers grew C. superba well, and he details his method. I myself have never seen
the bloom. Mr. Watson describes it as five inches across, "bright rosy-purple
suffused with white, very fragrant, lip with acute side lobes folding over the
column,"—making a funnel, in short—"the front lobe spreading, kidney-shaped,
crimson-purple, with a blotch of white and yellow in front."
In the same districts with Cattleya superba grows Galleandra Devoniana under
circumstances rather unusual. It clings to the very tip of a slender palm, in
swamps which the Indians themselves regard with dread as the chosen home of
fever and mosquitoes. It was discovered by Sir Robert Schomburgk, who compared
the flower to a foxglove, referring especially, perhaps, to the graceful bend of
its long pseudo-bulbs, which is almost lost under cultivation. The tube-like
flowers are purple, contrasting exquisitely with a snow-white lip, striped with
lilac in the throat.
Phalśnopsis, of course, are hot. This is one of
our oldest genera which still rank in the first class. It was drawn and
described so early as 1750, and a plant reached Messrs. Rollisson in 1838; they
sold it to the Duke of Devonshire for a hundred guineas. Many persons regard
Phalśnopsis as the loveliest of all, and there is no question of their supreme
beauty, though not everyone may rank them first. They come mostly from the
Philippines, but Java, Borneo, Cochin China, Burmah, even Assam contribute some
species. Colonel Berkeley found Ph. tetraspis, snow-white, and Ph. speciosa,
purple, in the Andamans, when he was Governor of that settlement, clinging to
low bushes along the mangrove creeks. So far as I know, all the species dwell
within breath of the sea, as it may be put, where the atmosphere is laden with
salt; this gives a hint to the thoughtful. Mr. Partington, of Cheshunt, who was
the most renowned cultivator of the genus in his time, used to lay down salt
upon the paths and beneath the stages of his Phalśnopsis house. Lady Howard de
Walden stands first, perhaps, at the present day, and her gardener follows the
same system. These plants, indeed, are affected, for good or ill, by influences
too subtle for our perception as yet. Experiment alone will decide whether a
certain house, or a certain neighbourhood even, is agreeable to their taste. It
is a waste of money in general to make alterations; if they do not like the
place they won't live there, and that's flat! It is probable that Maidstone,
where Lady Howard de Walden resides, may be specially suited to their needs, but
her ladyship's gardener knows how to turn a lucky chance to the best account.
Some of his plants have ten leaves!—the uninitiated may think that fact
grotesquely undeserving of a note of exclamation, but to explain would be too
technical. It may be observed that the famous Swan orchid, Cycnoches
chlorochilon, flourishes at Maidstone as nowhere else perhaps in England.
Phalśnopsis were first introduced by Messrs. Rollisson, of Tooting, a firm that
vanished years ago, but will live in the annals of horticulture as the earliest
of the great importers. In 1836 they got home a living specimen of Ph. amabilis,
which had been described, and even figured, eighty years before. A few months
later the Duke of Devonshire secured Ph. Schilleriana. The late Mr. B.S.
Williams told me a very curious incident relating to this species. It comes from
the Philippines, and exacts a very hot, close atmosphere of course. Once upon a
time, however, a little piece was left in the cool house at Holloway, and
remained there some months unnoticed by the authorities. When at length the
oversight was remarked, to their amaze this stranger from the tropics, abandoned
in the temperate zone, proved to be thriving more vigorously than any of his
fellows who enjoyed their proper climate!—so he was left in peace and cherished
as a "phenomenon." Four seasons had passed when I beheld the marvel, and it was
a picture of health and strength, flowering freely; but the reader is not
advised to introduce a few Phalśnopsis to his Odontoglossums—not by any means.
Mr. Williams himself never repeated the experiment. It was one of those
delightfully perplexing vagaries which the orchid-grower notes from time to
time.
There are rare species of this genus which will not be found in the dealers'
catalogues, and amateurs who like a novelty may be pleased to hear some names.
Ph. Manni, christened in honour of Mr. Mann, Director of the Indian Forest
Department, is yellow and red; Ph. cornucervi, yellow and brown; Ph. Portei, a
natural hybrid, of Ph. rosea and Ph. Aphrodite, white, the lip amethyst. It is
found very, very rarely in the woods near Manilla. Above all, Ph. Sanderiana, to
which hangs a little tale.
So soon as the natives of the Philippines began to understand that their white
and lilac weeds were cherished in Europe, they talked of a scarlet variety,
which thrilled listening collectors with joy; but the precious thing never came
to hand, and, on closer inquiry, no responsible witness could be found who had
seen it. Years passed by and the scarlet Phalśnopsis became a jest among
orchidaceans. The natives persisted, however, and Mr. Sander found the belief so
general, if shadowy, that when a service of coasting steamers was established,
he sent Mr. Roebelin to make a thorough investigation. His enterprise and
sagacity were rewarded, as usual. After floating round for twenty-five years
amidst derision, the rumour proved true in part. Ph. Sanderiana is not scarlet
but purplish rose, a very handsome and distinct species.
To the same collector we owe the noblest of Aerides, A. Lawrencić, waxy white
tipped with purple, and deep purple lip. Besides the lovely colouring it is the
largest by far of that genus. Mr. Roebelin sent two plants from the Far East; he
had not seen the flower, nor received any description from the natives. Mr.
Sander grew them in equal ignorance for three years, and sent one to auction in
blossom; it fell to Sir Trevor Lawrence's bid for 235 guineas.
About Orchids
About Orchids, 1893
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