Chapter VI: Part 6

The Indian to whom this _Cattleya Mossiæ_ belonged refused to part with it at any price for years; he was overcome by a rifle of peculiar fascination, added to the previous offers. A magic-lantern has very great influence in such cases, and the collector provides himself with one or more nowadays as part of his outfit. Under that charm, with 47l. in cash, Mr. Sander secured his first _C. Mossiæ alba_, but it has failed hitherto in another instance, though backed by 100l., in "trade" or dollars, at the Indian's option.

Thence we pass to a wide and lofty house which was designed for growing _Victoria Regia_ and other tropic water-lilies. It fulfilled its purpose for a time, and I never beheld those plants under circumstances so well fitted to display their beauty. But they generate a small black fly in myriads beyond belief, and so the culture of _Nymphæa_ was dropped. A few remain, in manageable quantities, just enough to adorn the tank with blue and rosy stars; but it is arched over now with baskets as thick as they will hang--Dendrobium, Coelogene, Oncidium, Spathoglottis, and those species which love to dwell in the neighbourhood of steaming water. My vocabulary is used up by this time. The wonders here must go unchronicled.

We have viewed but four houses out of twelve, a most cursory glance at that! The next also is intermediate, filled with Cattleyas, warm Oncidiums, Lycastes, Cypripediums--the inventory of names alone would occupy all my space remaining. At every step I mark some object worth a note, something that recalls, or suggests, or demands a word. But we must get along. The sixth house is cool again--Odontoglossums and such; the seventh is given to Dendrobes. But facing us as we enter stands a _Lycaste Skinneri_, which illustrates in a manner almost startling the infinite variety of the orchid. I positively dislike this species, obtrusive, pretentious, vague in colour, and stiff in form. But what a royal glorification of it we have here!--what exquisite veining and edging of purple or rose; what a velvet lip of crimson darkening to claret! It is merely a sport of Nature, but she allows herself such glorious freaks in no other realm of her domain. And here is a new Brassia just named by the pontiff of orchidology, Professor Reichenbach. Those who know the tribe of Brassias will understand why I make no effort to describe it. This wonderful thing is yet more "all over the shop" than its kindred. Its dorsal sepal measures three inches in length, its "tail," five inches, with an enormous lip between. They term it the Squid Flower, or Octopus, in Mexico; and a good name too. But in place of the rather weakly colouring habitual it has a grand decision of character, though the tones are like--pale yellow and greenish; its raised spots, red and deep green, are distinct as points of velvet upon muslin.

In the eighth house we return to Odontoglossums and cool genera. Here are a number of Hybrids of the "natural class," upon which I should have a good deal to say if inexorable fate permitted; "natural hybrids" are plants which seem species, but, upon thoughtful examination and study, are suspected to be the offspring of kindred and neighbours. Interesting questions arise in surveying fine specimens side by side, in flower, all attributed to a cross between _Odontoglossum Lindleyanum_ and _Odontoglossum crispum Alexandræ_, and all quite different. But we must get on to the ninth house, from which the tenth branches.

Here is the stove, and twilight reigns over that portion where a variety of super-tropic genera are "plumping up," making roots, and generally reconciling themselves to a new start in life. Such dainty, delicate souls may well object to the apprenticeship. It must seem very degrading to find themselves laid out upon a bed of cinders and moss, hung up by the heels above it, and even planted therein; but if they have as much good sense as some believe, they may be aware that it is all for their good. At the end, in full sunshine, stands a little copse of _Vanda teres_, set as closely as their stiff branches will allow. Still we must get on. There are bits of wood hanging here so rotten that they scarcely hold together; faintest dots of green upon them assure the experienced that presently they will be draped with pendant leaves, and presently again, we hope, with blue and white and scarlet flowers of Utricularia.

From the stove opens a very long, narrow house, where cool genera are "plumping," laid out on moss and potsherds; many of them have burst into strong growth. Pleiones are flowering freely as they lie. This farmer's crops come to harvest faster than he can attend to them. Things beautiful and rare and costly are measured here by the yard--so many feet of this piled up on the stage, so many of the other, from all quarters of the world, waiting the leisure of these busy agriculturists. Nor can we spare them more than a glance. The next house is filled with Odontoglossums, planted out like "bedding stuff" in a nursery, awaiting their turn to be potted. They make a carpet so close, so green, that flowers are not required to charm the eye as it surveys the long perspective. The rest are occupied just now with cargoes of imported plants.

My pages are filled--to what poor purpose, seeing how they might have been used for such a theme, no one could be so conscious as I.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 8: I was too sanguine. _Vanda teres_ refused to thrive.]

ORCHIDS AND HYBRIDIZING.

In the very first place, I declare that this is no scientific chapter. It is addressed to the thousands of men and women in the realm who tend a little group of orchids lovingly, and mark the wonders of their structure with as much bewilderment as interest. They read of hybridization, they see the result in costly specimens, they get books, they study papers on the subject. But the deeper their research commonly, the more they become convinced that these mysteries lie beyond their attainment. I am not aware of any treatise which makes a serious effort to teach the uninitiated. Putting technical expressions on one side--though that obstacle is grave enough--every one of those which have come under my notice takes the mechanical preliminaries for granted. All are written by experts for experts. My purpose is contrary. I wish to show how it is done so clearly that a child or the dullest gardener may be able to perform the operations--so very easy when you know how to set to work.

After a single lesson, in the genus _Cypripedium_ alone, a young lady of my household amused herself by concerting the most incredible alliances--_Dendrobium_ with _Odontoglossum_, _Epidendrum_ with _Oncidium_, _Oncidium_ with _Odontoglossum_, and so forth. It is unnecessary to tell the experienced that in every case the seed vessel swelled; that matter will be referred to presently. I mention the incident only to show how simple are these processes if the key be grasped.

Amateur hybridizers of an audacious class are wanted because, hitherto, operators have kept so much to the beaten paths. The names of Veitch and Dominy and Seden will endure when those of great _savants_ are forgotten; but business men have been obliged to concentrate their zeal upon experiments that pay. Fantastic crosses mean, in all probability, a waste of time, space, and labour; in fact, it is not until recent years that such attempts could be regarded as serious. So much the more creditable, therefore, are Messrs. Veitch's exertions in that line.

But it seems likely to me that when hybridizing becomes a common pursuit with those who grow orchids--and the time approaches fast--a very strange revolution may follow. It will appear, as I think, that the enormous list of pure species--even genera--recognized at this date may be thinned in a surprising fashion. I believe--timidly, as becomes the unscientific--that many distinctions which anatomy recognizes at present as essential to a true species will be proved, in the future, to result from promiscuous hybridization through æons of time. "Proved," perhaps, is the word too strong, since human life is short; but such a mass of evidence will be collected that reasonable men can entertain no doubt. Of course the species will be retained, but we shall know it to be a hybrid--the offspring, perhaps, of hybrids innumerable.

I incline more and more to think that even genera may be disturbed in a surprising fashion, and I know that some great authorities agree with me outright, though they are unprepared to commit themselves at present. A very few years ago this suggestion would have been absurd, in the sense that it wanted facts in support. As our ancestors made it an article of faith that to fertilize an orchid was impossible for man, so we imagined until lately that genera would not mingle. But this belief grows unsteady. Though bi-generic crosses have not been much favoured, as offering little prospect of success, such results have been obtained already that the field of speculation lies open to irresponsible persons like myself. When Cattleya has been allied with Sophronitis, Sophronitis with Epidendrum, Odontoglossum with Zygopetalum, Coelogene with Calanthe, one may credit almost anything. What should be stated on the other side will appear presently.

How many hybrids have we now, established, and passing from hand to hand as freely as natural species? There is no convenient record; but in the trade list of a French dealer those he is prepared to supply are set apart with Gallic precision. They number 416; but imagination and commercial enterprise are not less characteristic of the Gaul than precision.

In the excellent "Manual" of Messrs. Veitch, which has supplied me with a mass of details, I find ten hybrid Calanthes; thirteen hybrid Cattleyas, and fifteen Loelias, besides sixteen "natural hybrids"--species thus classed upon internal evidence--and the wondrous Sophro-Cattleya, bi-generic; fourteen Dendrobiums and one natural; eighty-seven Cypripediums--but as for the number in existence, it is so great, and it increases so fast, that Messrs. Veitch have lost count; Phajus one, but several from alliance with Calanthe; Chysis two; Epidendrum one; Miltonia one, and two natural; Masdevallia ten, and two natural; and so on. And it must be borne in mind that these amazing results have been effected in one generation. Dean Herbert's achievements eighty years ago were not chronicled, and it is certain that none of the results survive. Mr. Sander of St. Albans preserves an interesting relic, the only one as yet connected with the science of orchidology. This is _Cattleya hybrida_, the first of that genus raised by Dominy, manager to Messrs. Veitch, at the suggestion of Mr. Harris of Exeter, to the stupefaction of our grandfathers. Mr. Harris will ever be remembered as the gentleman who showed Mr. Veitch's agent how orchids are fertilized, and started him on his career. This plant was lost for years, but Mr. Sander found it by chance in the collection of Dr. Janisch at Hamburg, and he keeps it as a curiosity, for in itself the object has no value. But this is a digression.

Dominy's earliest success, actually the very first of garden hybrids to flower--in 1856--was _Calanthe Dominii_, offspring of _C. Masuca_ × _C. furcata_;--be it here remarked that the name of the mother, or seed parent, always stands first. Another interest attaches to _C. Dominii_. Both its parents belong to the _Veratræfolia_ section of Calanthe, the terrestrial species, and no other hybrid has yet been raised among them. We have here one of the numberless mysteries disclosed by hybridization. The epiphytal Calanthes, represented by _C. vestita_, will not cross with the terrestrial, represented by _C. veratræfolia_, nor will the mules of either. We may "give this up" and proceed. In 1859 flowered _C. Veitchii_, from _C. rosea_, still called, as a rule, _Limatodes rosea, × C. vestita_. No orchid is so common as this, and none more simply beautiful. But although the success was so striking, and the way to it so easy, twenty years passed before even Messrs. Veitch raised another hybrid Calanthe. In 1878 Seden flowered _C. Sedeni_ from _C. Veitchii × C. vestita_. Others entered the field then, especially Sir Trevor Lawrence, Mr. Cookson, and Mr. Charles Winn. But the genus is small, and they mostly chose the same families, often giving new names to the progeny, in ignorance of each other's labour.

The mystery I have alluded to recurs again and again. Large groups of species refuse to inter-marry with their nearest kindred, even plants which seem identical in the botanist's point of view. There is good ground for hoping, however, that longer and broader experience will annihilate some at least of the axioms current in this matter. Thus, it is repeated and published in the very latest editions of standard works that South American Cattleyas, which will breed, not only among themselves, but also with the Brazilian Loelias, decline an alliance with their Mexican kindred. But Baron Schroeder possesses a hybrid of such typical parentage as _Catt. citrina_, Mexican, and _Catt. intermedia_, Brazilian. It was raised by Miss Harris, of Lamberhurst, Kent, one single plant only; and it has flowered several times. Messrs. Sander have crossed _Catt. guttata Leopoldii_, Brazil, with _Catt. Dowiana_, Costa Rica, giving _Catt. Chamberliana_; _Loelia crispa_, Brazil, with the same, giving _Loelio-Cattleya Pallas_; _Catt. citrina_, Mexico, with _Catt. intermedia_, Brazil, giving _Catt. citrina intermedia_ (Lamberhurst hybrid); _Loelia flava_, Brazil, with _Catt. Skinneri_, Costa Rica, giving _Loelio-Catt. Marriottiana_; _Loelia pumila_, Brazil, with _Catt. Dowiana_, Costa Rica, giving _Loelio-Catt. Normanii_; _Loelia Digbyana_, Central America, with _Catt. Mossiæ_, Venezuela, giving _Loelio-Catt. Digbyana-Mossiæ_; _Catt. Mossiæ_, Venezuela, with _Loelia cinnabarina_, Brazil, giving _Loelio-Catt. Phoebe_. Not yet flowered and unnamed, raised in the Nursery, are _Catt. citrina_, Mexico, with _Loelia purpurata_, Brazil; _Catt. Harrisoniæ_, Brazil, with _Catt. citrina_, Mexico; _Loelia anceps_, Mexico, with _Epidendrum ciliare_, U.S. Colombia. In other genera there are several hybrids of Mexican and South American parentage; as _L. anceps_ × _Epid. ciliare_, _Sophronitis grandiflora_ × _Epid. radicans_, _Epid. xanthinum_ × _Epid. radicans_.

But among Cypripediums, the easiest and safest of all orchids to hybridize, East Indian and American species are unfruitful. Messrs. Veitch obtained such a cross, as they had every reason to believe, in one instance. For sixteen years the plants grew and grew until it was thought they would prove the rule by declining to flower. I wrote to Messrs. Veitch to obtain the latest news. They inform me that one has bloomed at last. It shows no trace of the American strain, and they have satisfied themselves that there was an error in the operation or the record. Again, the capsules secured from very many by-generic crosses have proved, time after time, to contain not a single seed. In other cases the seed was excellent to all appearance, but it has resolutely refused to germinate. And further, certain by-generic seedlings have utterly ignored one parent. _Zygopetalum Mackayi_ has been crossed by Mr. Veitch, Mr. Cookson, and others doubtless, with various Odontoglossums, but the flower has always turned out _Zygopetalum Mackayi_ pure and simple--which becomes the more unaccountable more one thinks of it.

Hybrids partake of the nature of both parents, but they incline generally, as in the extreme cases mentioned, to resemble one much more strongly than the other. When a Cattleya or Loelia of the single-leaf section is crossed with one of the two-leaf, some of the offspring, from the same capsule, show two leaves, others one only; and some show one and two alternately, obeying no rule perceptible to us at present. So it is with the charming _Loelia Maynardii_ from _L. Dayana_ × _Cattleya dolosa_, just raised by Mr. Sander and named after the Superintendent of his hybridizing operations. _Catt. dolosa_ has two leaves, _L. Dayana_ one; the product has two and one alternately. Sepals and petals are alike in colour, rosy crimson, veined with a deeper hue; lip brightest crimson-lake, long, broad and flat, curving in handsomely above the column, which is closely depressed after the manner of _Catt. dolosa_.

The first bi-generic cross deserves a paragraph to itself if only on that account; but its own merits are more than sufficient. _Sophro-Cattleya Batemaniana_ was raised by Messrs. Veitch from _Sophronitis grandiflora_ × _Catt. intermedia_. It flowered in August, 1886; petals and sepals rosy scarlet, lip pale lilac bordered with amethyst and tipped with rosy purple.

But one natural hybrid has been identified among Dendrobes--the progeny doubtless of _D. crassinode_ × _D. Wardianum_. Messrs. J. Laing have a fine specimen of this; it shows the growth of the latter species with the bloom of the former, but enlarged and improved. Several other hybrid crosses are suspected. Of artificial we have not less than fifty.

Phaius--it is often spelt Phajus--is so closely allied with Calanthe that for hybridizing purposes at least there is no distinction. Dominy raised _Ph. irroratus_ from _Ph. grandifolius_ × _Cal. vestita_; Seden made the same cross, but, using the variety _Cal. v. rubro-occulata_, he obtained _Ph. purpureus_. The success is more interesting because one parent is evergreen, the other, Calanthe, deciduous. On this account probably very few seedlings survive; they show the former habit. Mr. Cookson alone has yet raised a cross between two species of Phajus--_Ph. Cooksoni_ from _Ph. Wallichii_ × _Ph. tuberculosus_. One may say that this is the best hybrid yet raised, saving _Calanthe Veitchii_, if all merits be considered--stateliness of aspect, freedom in flowering, striking colour, ease of cultivation. One bulb will throw up four spikes--twenty-eight have been counted in a twelve-inch pot--each bearing perhaps thirty flowers.

Seden has made two crosses of Chysis, both from the exquisite _Ch. bractescens_, one of the loveliest flowers that heaven has granted to this world, but sadly fleeting. Nobody, I believe, has yet been so fortunate as to obtain seed from _Ch. aurea_. This species has the rare privilege of self-fertilization--we may well exclaim, Why! why?--and it eagerly avails itself thereof so soon as the flower begins to open. Thus, however watchful the hybridizer may be, hitherto he has found the pollen masses melted in hopeless confusion before he can secure them.

One hybrid Epidendrum has been obtained--_Epi. O'Brienianum_ from _Epi. evectum × Epi. radicans_; the former purple, the latter scarlet, produce ×a bright crimson progeny.

Miltonias show two natural hybrids, and one artificial--_Mil. Bleuiana_ from _Mil. vexillaria × Mil. Roezlii_; both of these are commonly classed as Odontoglots, and I refer to them elsewhere under that title. M. Bleu and Messrs. Veitch made this cross about the same time, but the seedlings of the former flowered in 1889, of the latter, in 1891. Here we see an illustration of the advantage which French horticulturists enjoy, even so far north as Paris; a clear sky and abundant sunshine made a difference of more than twelve months. When Italians begin hybridizing, we shall see marvels--and Greeks and Egyptians!

Masdevallias are so attractive to insects, by striking colour, as a rule, and sometimes by strong smell--so very easily fertilized also--that we should expect many natural hybrids in the genus. They are not forthcoming, however. Reichenbach displayed his scientific instinct by suggesting that two species submitted to him might probably be the issue of parents named; since that date Seden has produced both of them from the crosses which Reichenbach indicated.

We have three natural hybrids among Phaloenopsis. _Ph. intermedia_ made its appearance in a lot of _Ph. Aphrodite_, imported 1852. M. Porte, a French trader, brought home two in 1861; they were somewhat different, and he gave them his name. Messrs. Low imported several in 1874, one of which, being different again, was called after Mr. Brymer. Three have been found since, always among _Ph. Aphrodite_; the finest known is possessed by Lord Rothschild. That these were natural hybrids could not be doubted; Seden crossed _Ph. Aphrodite_ with _Ph. rosea_, and proved it. Our garden hybrids are two: _Ph. F.L. Ames_, obtained from _Ph. amabilis × Ph. intermedia_, and _Ph. Harriettæ_ from _Ph. amabilis × Ph. violacea_, named after the daughter of Hon. Erastus Corning, of Albany, U.S.A.

Oncidiums yield only two natural hybrids at present, and those uncertain; others are suspected. We have no garden hybrids, I believe, as yet. So it is with Odontoglossums, as has been said, but in the natural state they cross so freely that a large proportion of the species may probably be hybrids. I allude to this hereafter.

I have left Cypripediums to the last, in these hasty notes, because that supremely interesting genus demands more than a record of dry facts. Darwin pointed out that Cypripedium represents the primitive form of orchid. He was acquainted with no links connecting it with the later and more complicated genera; some have been discovered since that day, but it is nevertheless true that "an enormous extinction must have swept away a multitude of intermediate forms, and left this single genus as the record of a former and more simple state of the great orchidacean order." The geographical distribution shows that Cypripedium was more common in early times--to speak vaguely--and covered an area yet more extensive than now. And the process of extermination is still working, as with other primitive types.

Messrs. Veitch point out that although few genera of plants are scattered so widely over the earth as Cypripedium, the species have withdrawn to narrow areas, often isolated, and remote from their kindred. Some are rare to the degree that we may congratulate ourselves upon the chance which put a few specimens in safety under glass before it was too late, for they seem to have become extinct even in this generation. Messrs. Veitch give a few striking instances. All the plants of _Cyp. Fairieanum_ known to exist have sprung from three or four casually imported in 1856. Two bits of _Cyp. superbiens_ turned up among a consignment of _Cyp. barbatum_; none have been found since, and it is doubtful whether the species survives in its native home. Only three plants of _Cyp. Marstersianium_ have been discovered. They reached Mr. Bull in a miscellaneous case of Cypripediums forwarded to him by the Director of the Botanic Gardens at Buitzenzorze, in Java; but that gentleman and his successors in office have been unable to find another plant. These three must have reached the Gardens by an accident--as they left it--presented perhaps by some Dutchman who had been travelling.

_Cyp. purpuratum_ is almost extinct at Hong Kong, and is vanishing fast on the mainland. It is still found occasionally in the garden of a peasant, who, we are told, resolutely declines to sell his treasure. This may seem incredible to those who know the Chinaman, but Mr. Roebelin vouches for the fact; it is one more eccentricity to the credit of that people, who had quite enough already. Collectors expect to find a new habitat of _Cyp. purpuratum_ in Formosa when they are allowed to explore that realm. Even our native _Cyp. calceolus_ has almost disappeared; we get it now from Central Europe, but in several districts where it abounded the supply grows continually less. The same report comes from North America and Japan. Fortunate it is, but not surprising to the thoughtful observer, that this genus grows and multiplies with singular facility when its simple wants are supplied. There is no danger that a species which has been rescued from extinction will perish under human care.

This seems contradictory. How should a plant thrive better under artificial conditions than in the spot where Nature placed it? The reason lies in that archaic character of the Cypriped which Darwin pointed out. Its time has passed--Nature is improving it off the face of the earth. A gradual change of circumstances makes it more and more difficult for this primitive form of orchid to exist, and, conscious of the fate impending, it gratefully accepts our help.

One cause of extermination is easily grasped. Cypripeds have not the power of fertilizing themselves, except a single species, _Cyp. Schlimii_, which--accordingly, as we may say--is most difficult to import and establish; moreover, it flowers so freely that the seedlings are always weak. In all species the sexual apparatus is so constructed that it cannot be impregnated by accident, and few insects can perform the office. Dr. Hermann Muller studied _Cyp. calceolus_ assiduously in this point of view. He observed only five species of insect which fertilize it. _Cyp. calceolus_ has perfume and honey, but none of the tropical species offer those attractions. Their colour is not showy. The labellum proves to be rather a trap than a bait. Large insects which creep into it and duly bear away the pollen masses, are caught and held fast by that sticky substance when they try to escape through the lateral passages, which smaller insects are too weak to force their way through.

Natural hybrids occur so rarely, that their existence is commonly denied. The assertion is not quite exact; but when we consider the habits of the genus, it ceases to be extraordinary that Cypripeds rarely cross in their wild state. Different species of Cattleya, Odontoglots, and the rest live together on the same tree, side by side. But those others dwell apart in the great majority of cases, each species by itself, at a vast distance perhaps from its kindred. The reason for this state of things has been mentioned--natural laws have exterminated them in the spaces between, which are not so well fitted to maintain a doomed race.

Doubtless Cypripeds rarely fertilize--by comparison, that is, of course--in their native homes. The difficulty that insects find in performing that service has been mentioned. Mr. Godseff points out to me a reason far more curious and striking. When a bee displaces the pollen masses of a Cattleya, for instance, they cling to its head or thorax by means of a sticky substance attached to the pollen cases; so, on entering the next flower, it presents the pollen _outwards_ to the stigmatic surface. But in the case of a Cypriped there is no such substance, the adhesive side of the pollen itself is turned outward, and it clings to any intruding substance. But this is the fertilizing part. Therefore, an insect which by chance displaces the pollen mass carries it off, as one may say, the wrong side up. On entering the next flower, it does not commonly present the surface necessary for impregnation, but a sterile globule which is the backing thereof. We may suppose that in the earlier age, when this genus flourished as the later forms of orchid do now, it enjoyed some means of fertilization which have vanished.

Under such disadvantages it is not to be expected that seed capsules would be often found upon imported Cypripeds. Messrs. Veitch state that they rarely observed one among the myriads of plants that have passed through their hands. With some species, however, it is not by any means so uncommon. When Messrs. Thompson, of Clovenfords, bought a quantity of the first _Cyp. Spicerianum_ which came upon the market, they found a number of capsules, and sowed them, obtaining several hundred fine plants. Pods are often imported on _Cyp. insigne_ full of good seed.

In the circumstances enumerated we have the explanation of an extraordinary fact. Hybrids or natural species of Cypripediums artificially raised are stronger than their parents, and they produce finer flowers. The reason is that they get abundance of food in captivity, and all things are made comfortable for them; whilst Nature, anxious to be rid of a form of plant no longer approved, starves and neglects them.

The same argument enables us to understand why Cypripeds lend themselves so readily to the hybridizer. Darwin taught us to expect that species which can rarely hope to secure a chance of reproduction will learn to make the process as easy and as sure as the conditions would admit--that none of those scarce opportunities may be lost. And so it proves. Orchidaceans are apt to declare that "everybody" is hybridizing Cypripeds nowadays. At least, so many persons have taken up this agreeable and interesting pursuit that science has lost count of the less striking results. Briefly, the first hybrid Cypripedium was raised by Dominy, in 1869, and named after Mr. Harris, who, as has been said, suggested the operation to him. Seden produced the next in 1874--_Cyp. Sedeni_ from _Cyp. Schlimii × Cyp. longiflorum_; curious as the single instance yet noted in which seedlings turn out identical, whichever parent furnish the pollen-masses. In every other case they vary when the functions of the parents are exchanged.

For a long time after 1853, when serious work begun, Messrs. Veitch had a monopoly of the business. It is but forty years, therefore, since experiments commenced, in which time hundreds of hybrids have been added to our list of flowers; but--this is my point--Nature has been busy at the same task for unknown ages, and who can measure the fruits of her industry? I do not offer the remark as an argument; our observations are too few as yet. It may well be urged that if Nature had been thus active, the "natural hybrids" which can be recognized would be much more numerous than they are. I have pointed out that many of the largest genera show very few; many none at all. But is it impossible that the explanation appears to fail only because we cannot yet push it far enough? When the hybridizer causes by force a fruitful union betwixt two genera, he seems to triumph over a botanical law. But suppose the genera themselves are artificial, only links in a grand chain which Nature has forged slowly, patiently, with many a break and many a failure, in the course of ages? She would finish her work bit by bit, and at every stage the new variety may have united with others in endless succession. Few natural hybrids can be identified among Cattleyas, for instance. But suppose Cattleyas are all hybrids, the result of promiscuous intercourse among genera during cycles of time--suppose, that is, the genus itself sprang from parents widely diverse, crossing, returning, intercrossing from age to age? It is admitted that Cypripedium represents a primeval form--perhaps _the_ primeval form--of orchid. Suppose that we behold, in this nineteenth century, a mere epoch, or stage, in the ceaseless evolution? Only an irresponsible amateur could dare talk in this way. It would, in truth, be very futile speculation if experiments already successful did not offer a chance of proof one day, and others, hourly ripening, did not summon us to think.

I may cite, with the utmost brevity, two or three facts which--to me unscientific--appear inexplicable, unless species of orchid were developed on the spot; or the theory of special local creations be admitted. _Oncidium cucullatum_ flourishes in certain limited areas of Peru, of Ecuador, of Colombia, and of Venezuela. It is not found in the enormous spaces between, nor are any Oncidiums which might be accepted as its immediate parents. Can we suppose that the winds or the birds carried it over mountain ranges and broad rivers more than two thousand miles, in four several directions, to establish it upon a narrow tract? It is a question of faith; but, for my own part, I could as soon believe that æsthetic emigrants took it with them. But even winds and birds could not bear the seed of _Dendrobium heterocarpum_ from Ceylon to Burmah, and from Burmah to Luzon in the Philippines; at least, I am utterly unable to credit it. If the plants were identical, or nearly, in their different habitats, this case would be less significant. But the _D. heterocarpum_ of Ceylon has a long, thin pseudo-bulb, with bright yellow flowers; that of Burmah is short and thick, with paler colouring; that of Luzon is no less than three feet high, exaggerating the stature of its most distant relative while showing the colour of its nearest; but all, absolutely, the same botanic plant. I have already mentioned other cases.

Experience hitherto suggests that we cannot raise Odontoglossum seedlings in this climate; very, very few have ever been obtained. Attempts in France have been rather more successful. Baron Adolf de Rothschild has four different hybrids of Odontoglossum in bud at this present moment in his garden at Armainvilliers, near Paris. M. Moreau has a variety of seedlings.

Authorities admit now that a very great proportion of our Odontoglossums are natural hybrids; so many can be identified beyond the chance of error that the field for speculation has scarcely bounds. _O. excellens_ is certainly descended from _O. Pescatorei_ and _O. triumphans_, _O. elegans_ from _O. cirrhosum_ and _O. Hallii_, _O. Wattianum_ from _O. Harryanum_ and _O. hystrix_. And it must be observed that we cannot trace pedigree beyond the parents as yet, saving a very, very few cases. But unions have been contracting during cycles of time; doubtless, from the laws of things the orchid is latest born of Nature's children in the world of flora, but mighty venerable by this time, nevertheless. We can identify the mixed offspring of _O. crispum Alexandræ_ paired with _O. gloriosum_, with _O. luteopurpureum_, with _O. Lindleyanum_; these parents dwell side by side, and they could not fail to mingle. We can already trace with assurance a few double crosses, as _O. lanceans_, the result of an alliance between _O. crispum Alexandræ_ and _O. Ruckerianum_, which latter is a hybrid of the former with _O. gloriosum_. When we observe _O. Roezlii_ upon the bank of the River Cauca and _O. vexillarium_ on the higher ground, whilst _O. vexillarium superbum_ lives between, we may confidently attribute its peculiarity of a broad dark blotch upon the lip to the influence of _O. Roezlii_. So, taking station at Manaos upon the Amazons, we find, to eastward, _Cattleya superba_, to westward _C. Eldorado_, and in the midst _C. Brymeriana_, which, it is safe to assume, represents the union of the two; for that matter, the theory will very soon be tested, for M. Alfred Bleu has "made the cross" of _C. superba_ and _C. Eldorado_, and its flower is expected with no little interest.

These cases, and many more, are palpable. We see a variety in the making at this date. A thousand years hence, or ten thousand, by more distant alliances, by a change of conditions, the variety may well have developed into a species, or, by marriage excursions yet wider, it may have founded a genus.

I have named Mr. Cookson several times; in fact, to discourse of hybridization for amateurs without reference to his astonishing "record" would be grotesque. One Sunday afternoon, ten years ago, he amused himself with investigating the structure of a few Cypripeds, after reading Darwin's book; and he impregnated them. To his astonishment the seed-vessel began to swell, and so did Mr. Cookson's enthusiasm simultaneously. He did not yet know, and, happily, these experiments gave him no reason to suspect, that pseudo-fertilization can be produced, actually, by anything. So intensely susceptible is the stigmatic surface of the Cypriped that a touch excites it furiously. Upon the irritation caused by a bit of leaf, it will go sometimes through all the visible processes of fecundation, the ovary will swell and ripen, and in due time burst, with every appearance of fertility; but, of course, there is no seed. Beginners, therefore, must not be too sanguine when their bold attempts promise well.

From that day Mr. Cookson gave his leisure to hybridization, with such results as, in short, are known to everybody who takes an interest in orchids. Failures in abundance he had at first, but the proportion has grown less and less until, at this moment, he confidently looks for success in seventy-five per cent. of his attempts; but this does not apply to bi-generic crosses, which hitherto have not engaged his attention much. Beginning with Cypripedium, he has now ninety-four hybrids--very many plants of each--produced from one hundred and forty capsules sown. Of Calanthe, sixteen hybrids from nineteen capsules; of Dendrobium, thirty-six hybrids from forty-one capsules; of Masdevallia, four hybrids from seventeen capsules; of Odontoglossum, none from nine capsules; of Phajus, two from two capsules; of Vanda, none from one capsule; of bi-generic, one from nine capsules. There may be another indeed, but the issue of an alliance so startling, and produced under circumstances so dubious, that Mr. Cookson will not own it until he sees the flower.

It does not fall within the scope of this chapter to analyze the list of this gentleman's triumphs, but even _savants_ will be interested to hear a few of the most remarkable crosses therein, for it is not published. I cite the following haphazard:--

Phajus Wallichii × Phajus tuberculosus.
Loelia præstans. × Cattleya Dowiana.
" purpurata × Cattleya Dowiana.
" " × Loelia grandis tenebrosa.
" " × Cattleya Mendellii.
" marginata × Loelia elegans Cooksoni.
Cattleya Mendellii × " purpurata.
" Trianæ × " harpophylla.
" Percivalliana × "
" Lawrenceana × Cattleya Mossiæ.
" gigas × " Gaskelliana.
" crispa × " "
" Dowiana × " "
" Schofieldiana × " gigas imperialis.
" Leopoldii × " Dowiana.
Cypripedium Stonei × Cypripedium Godefroyæ.
" " × " Spicerianum.
" Sanderianum × " Veitchii.
" Spicerianum × " Sanderianum.
" Io × " vexillarium.
Dendrobium nobile nobilus × Dendrobium Falconerii.
" " × " nobile Cooksonianum.
" Wardianum × " aureum.
" " × " Linawianum.
" luteolum × " nobile nobilius.
Masdevallia Tovarensis × Masdevallia bella.
" Shuttleworthii × " Tovarensis.
" " × " rosea.

Of these, and so many more, Mr. Cookson has at this moment fifteen thousand plants. Since my object is to rouse the attention of amateurs, that they may go and do likewise, I may refer lightly to a consideration which would be out of place under other circumstances. Professional growers of orchids are fond of speculating how much the Wylam collection would realize if judiciously put on the market. I shall not mention the estimates I have heard; it is enough to say they reach many, many thousands of pounds; that the difference between the highest and the lowest represents a handsome fortune. And this great sum has been earned by brains alone, without increase of expenditure, by boldness of initiative, thought, care, and patience; without special knowledge also, at the beginning, for ten years ago Mr. Cookson had no more acquaintance with orchids than is possessed by every gentleman who takes an interest in them, while his gardener the early time was both ignorant and prejudiced. This should encourage enterprise, I think--the revelation of means to earn great wealth in a delightful employment. But amateurs must be quick. Almost every professional grower of orchids is preparing to enter the field. They, however, must needs give the most of their attention to such crosses as may be confidently expected to catch the public fancy, as has been said. I advise my readers to be daring, even desperate. It is satisfactory to learn that Mr. Cookson intends to make a study of bi-generic hybridization henceforward.[9]

The common motive for crossing orchids is that, of course, which urges the florist in other realms of botany. He seeks to combine tints, forms, varied peculiarities, in a new shape. Orchids lend themselves to experiment with singular freedom, within certain limits, and their array of colours seems to invite our interference. Taking species and genera all round, yellow dominates, owing to its prevalence in the great family of Oncidium; purples and mauves stand next by reason of their supremacy among the Cattleyas. Green follows--if we admit the whole group of Epidendrums--the great majority of which are not beautiful, however. Of magenta, the rarest of natural hues, we have not a few instances. Crimson, in a thousand shades, is frequent; pure white a little rare, orange much rarer; scarlet very uncommon, and blue almost unknown, though supremely lovely in the few instances that occur. Thus the temptation to hybridize with the object of exchanging colours is peculiarly strong.

It becomes yet stronger by reason of the delightful uncertainty which attends one's efforts. So far as I have heard or read, no one has yet been able to offer a suggestion of any law which decides the result of combination. In a general way, both parents will be represented in the offspring, but how, to what degree either will dominate, in what parts, colours, or fashions a hybrid will show its mixed lineage, the experienced refuse to conjecture, saving certain easy classes. After choosing parents thoughtfully, with a clear perception of the aim in view, one must "go it blind." Very often the precise effect desired appears in due time; very often something unlooked for turns up; but nearly always the result is beautiful, whether or no it serve the operator's purpose. Besides effect, however, there is an utility in hybridization which relates to culture. Thus, for example, the lovely _Cypripedium Fairieanum_ is so difficult to grow that few dealers keep it in their stock; by crossing it with _Cyp. barbatum_, from Mount Ophir, a rough-and-ready cool species, we get _Cyp. vexillarium_, which takes after the latter in constitution while retaining much of the beauty of the former. Or again, _Cypripedium Sanderianum_, from the Malay Archipelago, needs such swampy heat as few even of its fellows appreciate; it has been crossed with _Cyp. insigne_, which will flourish anywhere, and though the seedlings have not yet bloomed, there is no reasonable doubt that they will prove as useful and beautiful as in the other case. _Cypripedium insigne_, of the fine varieties, has been employed in a multitude of such instances. There is the striking _Cyp. hirsutissimum_, with sepals of a nameless green, shaded yellow, studded with spiculæ, exquisitely frilled, and tipped, by a contrast almost startling, with pale purple. It is very "hot" in the first place, and, in the second, its appearance would be still more effective if some white could be introduced; present it to _Cyp. niveum_ and confidently expect that the progeny will bear cooler treatment, whilst their "dorsal sepal" will be blanched. So the charming _Masdevallia Tovarensis_, warm, white and lowly, will take to itself the qualities, in combination, of _Mas. bella_, tall, cool, and highly coloured red and yellow, as Mr. Cookson has proved; so _Phaloenopsis Wightii_, delicate of growth and small of flower, will become strong and generous by union with _Phal. grandiflora_, without losing its dainty tones.

It is worth mention that the first Flora medal offered by the Royal Horticultural Society for a seedling--a hybrid--in open competition was won by _Loelia Arnoldiana_ in 1891; the same variety took the first prize in 1892. It was raised by Messrs. Sander from _L. purpurata_ × _Catt. labiata_; seed sown 1881, flowered 1891.

And now for the actual process by which these most desirable results, and ten thousand others, may be obtained. I shall not speak upon my own authority, which the universe has no reason to trust. Let us observe the methods practised in the great establishment of Mr. Sander at St. Albans.

Remark, in the first place, the low, unshaded range of houses
devoted to hybridization, a contrast to those lofty structures, a
hundred yards long or more, where plants merely flourish and bloom.
Their span roofs one may touch with the hand, and their glass is
always newly cleaned. The first and last demand of the hybridizer is
light--light--eternally light. Want of it stands at the bottom of
all his disappointments, perhaps. The very great majority of
orchids, such as I refer to, have their home in the tropics; even
the "cool" Odontoglots and Masdevallias owe that quality to their
mountaineering habit, not to latitude. They live so near the equator
that sunshine descends almost perpendicularly--and the sun shines
for more than half the year. But in this happy isle of ours, upon
the very brightest day of midsummer, its rays fall at an angle of
28°, declining constantly until, at midwinter, they struggle through
the fogs at an inclination of 75°. The reader may work out this
proportion for himself, but he must add to his reckoning the
thickness of our atmosphere at its best, and the awful number of
cloudy days. We cannot spare one particle of light. The ripening
seed must stand close beneath the glass, and however fierce the
sunshine no blind may be interposed. It is likely that the
mother-plant will be burnt up--quite certain that it will be much
injured.

This house is devoted to the hybridizing of Cypripediums; I choose that genus for our demonstration, because, as has been said, it is so very easy and so certain that an intelligent girl mastered all its eccentricities of structure after a single lesson, which made her equally proficient in those of Dendrobes, Oncidiums, Odontoglots, Epidendrums, and I know not how many more. The leaves are green and smooth as yet, with many a fantastic bloom, and many an ovary that has just begun to swell, rising amidst the verdure. Each flower spike which has been crossed carries its neat label, registering the father's name and the date of union.

Mr. Maynard takes the two first virgin blooms to hand: _Cypripedium Sanderianum_, and _Cypripedium Godefroyæ_, as it chances. Let us cut off the lip in order to see more clearly. Looking down now upon the flower, we mark two wings, the petals, which stood on either side of the vanished lip. From the junction of these wings issues a round stalk, about one quarter of an inch long, and slightly hairy, called the "column." It widens out at the tip, forming a pretty table, rather more than one-third of an inch long and wide. This table serves no purpose in our inquiry; it obstructs the view, and we will remove it; but the reader understands, of course, that these amputations cannot be performed when business is intended. Now--the table snipped off--we see those practical parts of the flower that interest us. Beneath its protection, the column divides into three knobbly excrescences, the central plain, those on either side of it curling back and down, each bearing at its extremity a pad, the size of a small pin's head, outlined distinctly with a brown colour. It is quite impossible to mistake these things; equally impossible, I hope, to misunderstand my description. The pads are the male, the active organs.

But the column does not finish here. It trends downward, behind and below the pads, and widens out, with an exquisitely graceful curve, into a disc one-quarter of an inch broad. This is the female, the receptive part; but here we see the peculiarity of orchid structure. For the upper surface of the disc is not susceptible; it is the under surface which must be impregnated, though the imagination cannot conceive a mere accident which would throw those fertilizing pads upon their destined receptacle. They are loosely attached and adhesive, when separated, to a degree actually astonishing, as is the disc itself; but if it were possible to displace them by shaking, they could never fall where they ought. Some outside impulse is needed to bring the parts together. In their native home insects perform that service--sometimes. Here we may take the first implement at hand, a knife, a bit of stick, a pencil. We remove the pads, which yield at a touch, and cling to the object. We lay them one by one on the receptive disc, where they seem to melt into the surface--and the trick is done. Write out your label--_"Cyp. Sanderianum × Cyp. Godefroyæ_, Maynard." Add the date, and leave Nature to her work.

She does not linger. One may almost say that the disc begins to swell instantly. That part which we term the column is the termination of the seed-purse, the ovary, which occupies an inch, or two, or three, of the stalk, behind the flower. In a very few days its thickening becomes perceptible. The unimpregnated bloom falls off at its appointed date, as everybody knows; but if fertilized it remains entire, saving the labellum, until the seed is ripe, perhaps half a year afterwards--but withered, of course. Very singular and quite inexplicable are the developments that arise in different genera, or even species, after fertilization. In the Warscewiczellas, for example, not the seed-purse only, but the whole column swells. _Phaloenopsis Luddemanniana_ is specially remarkable. Its exquisite bars and mottlings of rose, brown, and purple begin to take a greenish hue forthwith. A few days later, the lip jerks itself off with a sudden movement, as observers declare. Then the sepals and petals remaining take flesh, thicken and thicken, while the hues fade and the green encroaches, until, presently, they assume the likeness of a flower, abnormal in shape but perfect, of dense green wax.

This Cypripedium of ours will ripen its seed in about twelve months, more or less. Then the capsule, two inches long and two-thirds of an inch diameter, will burst. Mr. Maynard will cut it off, open it wide, and scatter the thousands of seeds therein, perhaps 150,000, over pots in which orchids are growing. After experiments innumerable, this has been found the best course. The particles, no bigger than a grain of dust, begin to swell at once, reach the size of a mustard-seed, and in five or six weeks--or as many months--they put out a tiny leaf, then a tiny root, presently another leaf, and in four or five years we may look for the hybridized flower. Long before, naturally, they have been established in their own pots.

Strange incidents occur continually in this pursuit, as may be believed. Nine years since, Mr. Godseff crossed _Catasetum macrocarpum_ with _Catasetum callosum_. The seed ripened, and in due time it was sown; but none ever germinated in the proper place. A long while afterwards Mr. Godseff remarked a tiny little green speck in a crevice above the door of this same house. It grew and grew very fast, never receiving water unless by the rarest accident, until those experts could identify a healthy young Catasetum. And there it has flourished ever since, receiving no attention; for it is the first rule in orchid culture to leave a plant to itself where it is doing well, no matter how strange the circumstances may appear to us. This Catasetum, wafted by the wind, when the seed was sown, found conditions suitable where it lighted, and quickened, whilst all its fellows, carefully provided for, died without a sign. It thrives upon the moisture of the house. In a very few years it will flower. In another case, when all hope of the germination of a quantity of seed had long been lost, it became necessary to take up the wooden trellis that formed the flooring of the path; a fine crop of young hybrids was discovered clinging to the under side.

The amateur who has followed us thus far with interest, may inquire how long it will be before he can reasonably expect to see the outcome of our proceedings? In the first place, it must be noted that the time shortens continually as we gain experience. The statements following I leave unaltered, because they are given by Messrs. Veitch, our oldest authority, in the last edition of their book. But at the Temple Show this year Norman C. Cookson, Esq., exhibited _Catt. William Murray_, offspring of _Catt. Mendellii × Catt. Lawrenceana_, a lovely flower which gained a first class certificate. It was only four years old.

The quickest record as yet is _Calanthe Alexanderii_, with which Mr. Cookson won a first-class certificate of the Royal Horticultural Society. It flowered within three years of fertilizing. As a genus, perhaps, Dendrobiums are readiest to show. Plants have actually been "pricked out" within two months of sowing, and they have bloomed within the fourth year. Phajus and Calanthe rank next for rapid development. Masdevallia, Chysis, and Cypripedium require four to five years, Lycaste seven to eight, Loelia and Cattleya ten to twelve. These are Mr. Veitch's calculations in a rough way, but there are endless exceptions, of course. Thus his _Loelia triophthalma_ flowered in its eighth season, whilst his _Loelia caloglossa_ delayed till its nineteenth. The genus _Zygopetalum_, which plays odd tricks in hybridizing, as I have mentioned, is curious in this matter also. _Z. maxillare_ crossed with _Z. Mackayi_ demands five years to bloom, but _vice versâ_ nine years. There is a case somewhat similar, however, among the Cypripeds. _C. Schlimii_ crossed with _C. longifolium_ flowers in four years, but _vice versâ_ in six. It is not to be disputed, therefore, that the hybridizer's reward is rather slow in coming; the more earnestly should he take measures to ensure, so far as is possible, that it be worth waiting for.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 9: Mr. Cookson writes to me: "Give some of the credit to my present gardener, William Murray, who is entitled to a large proportion, at least."]

INDEX.

PAGE
Aerides Lawrenciæ 160
Angræcum arcuatum 134
" caudatum 135
" Duchailluianum 134
" Ellisii 135
" falcatum 133
" Kotschyi 135
" Leonis 135
" Sanderianum 134
" Scottianum 135
" sesquipedale (Æranthus sesquipedalis) 135
Anomatheca cruenta 11

Begonia coralina 195
Begonias 86
Brassias 207
Brassavola Digbyana 128
Bulbophyllum barbigerum 169
" Beccarii 169
" Dearei 170
" Godseffianum 170
" Lobbii 170
Bullthorn acacia 124