The Woodlands orchids, described and illustrated

by Frederick Boyle

THE CYPRIPEDIUM HOUSE

Perhaps our collection is most famed for its Cypripeds. During twenty years and more the owner has been securing remarkable hybrids and varieties—labouring on his own account also to produce them. But the pretty house which lodges these accumulated treasures is not more than 48 feet long and 17 wide. No room here for vulgar beauties; only the best and rarest can find admission. There are, to be precise, 980 plants upon the stages, 169 hanging from the roof. They are close packed certainly, but a glance at the vivid foliage satisfies even the uninitiated that they have space enough. Orchids generally are the most accommodating of plants—the best tempered and the strongest in constitution; and among orchids none equal the Cypripeds in both respects. It is pleasant to fancy that they feel gratitude for our protection. Darwin convinced himself that the whole family is doomed. In construction and anatomy it preserves ‘the record of a former and more simple state of the great orchidaceous family,’ now outgrown. Such survivals are profoundly interesting to us, but Nature does not regard them kindly. They betray her secrets. All the surrounding conditions have changed while the Cypriped clings to its antique model—at least, it has not changed in proportion. Few insects remain, apparently, adapted to fertilise it and it cannot fertilise itself. In the struggle for existence, therefore, it is terribly handicapped. Man comes to the rescue, and no class of orchid accepts his intervention so readily.

It is a pretty house, as I have said. Experienced gardeners have a deep distrust of pretty houses. Picturesque effect and good culture can seldom be reconciled; the conditions needed for the one are generally fatal to the other. But here we have a pleasing exception. All is green and fresh—no brickwork, nor shelves, nor pipes, nor ‘tombstone’ labels obtrude upon the view. The back wall is draped with ferns and creepers, orchids peeping through here and there. A broad stand down the middle, accommodating five rows of Cypripediums on either side, has all its substructures masked with tufa, which bears a mantle of green. The side stands, each accommodating seven rows of pots, are equally clothed in verdure, moss and fern. At the end, through a glass partition open in the centre, is a fountain, with similar stands all round it. And—an essential point, whereby we understand the glorious health of all these plants—there is not one which the gardener cannot see perfectly as he goes by, and reach without an effort, saving those overhead in the middle. No chance of thrips flourishing unsuspected in this house, nor of slugs following their horrid appetite from pot to pot unnoticed.

Since it is especially the number of rare ‘garden mules’ which have won us renown, I ought perhaps to say a word in passing upon the matter of hybridisation. But what can be said in a few lines? It is a theme for articles and books, even in the hands of a smattering amateur like myself. The public has no suspicion how far this novel manufacture has been carried already. There is a hint in the tiny volume compiled by Mr. R. H. Measures ‘for private circulation,’ showing the number of hybrids in the genus Cypripedium of which he could hear. It contains more than eleven hundred items. Of these we have upwards of eight hundred in our collection. But it must be remembered, in the first place, that there is no authoritative list as yet; each inquirer must get information as he can. In the second place, that the number increases daily. Such a list could be framed only by an international committee of botanists, for in France and Belgium orchid-growers are as enthusiastic as our own; whilst in Germany, Italy, Austria and the United States, if the workers be comparatively few they are very busy.

It has often been suggested that an Orchid Farm would pay handsomely, if established in some well-chosen district of the Tropics and intelligently conducted. A gentleman resident in Oviedo, Florida, Mr. Theodore S. Mead, has carried the notion into practice on a small scale with startling results. I quote from the Orchid Review, June 1896:—

‘I have built a small platform in the top of a live oak, about 45 feet from the ground ... where I propose to try seeds of some thirty or forty different orchid crosses, including pods from Vanda coerulea and Cattleya citrina, which are thought difficult to manage under glass...’

In September 1897 we hear further:—

‘The season has been a very trying one, and though my orchid-eyrie in the live oak-top promised great success in June, it was very difficult to keep the compost in good condition during the hot, muggy days of July. Still, out of thirty-two crosses planted on a space of peat, 16 inches long by 12 broad, I obtained plants having first leaf of twenty-two of them—mostly Cattleyas and Laelias;—though a good many died when it was necessary to transplant them, on account of mould and algae threatening to swamp the tiny plants. A single plant of Vanda coerulea × V. Amesiana appeared, and is now showing its third leaf. This year I have repeated the cross Bletia verecunda × Schomburgkia tibicinis and have several plants in their first leaf; and also one of Bletia verecunda crossed with our native Calopogon pulchellus...’

In March 1899:—‘... My seed-planting was very successful after June in polypodium fibre (fresh fern mats) in my tree-top eyrie, and from July till October I averaged 500 little hybrids transplanted to pots every month; about one-fourth still survive.... I had an ancient moss-grown magnolia chopped down and cut into slabs, some thirty of which I planted with orchid-seed and kept sprayed. The slabs coming from near the ground scarcely germinated a seed, but those from 20 to 30 feet up yielded from 2 to 3 up to about 150. I also tried oak bark, but while the seeds started promptly they were more subject to disease;... when transplanted to pots nearly all died.

‘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.

[Larger Image]

CYPRIPEDIUM. WILLIAM LLOYD.
Painted from nature also		Chromo by Macfarlane F.R.H.S.
	Printed in London

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