CYPRIPEDIUMS—Continued

William Lloyd (bellatulum × Swanianum).—The white crest of the dorsal rises from a dull crimson blur with greenish centre, overrun with crimson lines. The petals have a dull crimson ground, paler below, densely speckled with maroon, the ends just tipped with white. Slipper, shining maroon.

A de Lairesse (Curtisii × Rothschildianum).—The fine dorsal is white, with a greenish centre and faint purple edges, the lines clear purple. Petals long and drooping, pale green, edged with white; all covered with purple spots. Slipper, ochreous brown.

Juno (Fairieanum × callosum).—The broad white dorsal, green at base, tinged with purple, and strongly scored with purple lines, is actually the widest part of the flower, as in Fairieanum. The narrow petals curl down close upon the slipper, green in paler and darker shades, with bunches of purple hair, like those on a caterpillar, at the edges, and pale purple tips. Slipper, dusky greenish with brown lines.

Saide Lloyd (venustum × Godefroyae).—Dorsal small, bright green with darker lines. Petals purplish above, greenish below, speckled with small dots of crimson and strong spots of maroon. Slipper, ochreous yellow, dotted with crimson at top and netted with green.

Cymatodes (Curtisii × Veitchii).—The fine dorsal is green, fading to white, with a pretty narrow edging of pink, and boldly ribbed. The petals, dark at base, change to green, and towards the tips have an edging of profuse crimson specks. The slipper, very wide at the mouth, is greenish.

Dauthierii albino.—A wonderful sport. Up the grass-green dorsal, edged with white above, run strong lines of darker tone. The petals, very narrow at base, are yellowish green, suffused and lined with copper above, paler below. The slipper shows similar colouring.

On the same plant, open at the same time, but from another stem, was a flower of the common Dauthierii type. Still more remarkable, one year this second stem bore a flower of which half the dorsal was pale yellow, the other half coppery green, as is usual, thus betraying a futile inclination to rival its albino sister. The petals were scarcely affected, however.

Dauthierii marmoratum.—Another abnormal form. The point of the dorsal, and the high shoulders, are white, the rest crimson-maroon. From the point descend three or four broad lines, or long splashes, of green, with striking effect. The petals are marbled longitudinally with purple on a dusky ground. The lip is dull, dusky crimson.

Lord Derby (Rothschildianum × superbiens).—An immense flower—the grand dorsal rosy white, tinged with pale green in the middle, pale purple on either hand, dark lines circling upward over all. The petals, outlined with purple at the base, change to pale green, almost to white, below and at the tips. Great spots of darkest crimson stud the whole. Slipper maroon, greenish at the toe.

Evenor (Argus × bellatulum).—Ground-colour throughout ochreous yellow. The dorsal has a purplish base and maroon lines of dots. Broad round petals, closely spotted with maroon. Slipper purplish above, ochre below.

Excelsior (Rothschildianum × Harrisianum).—Dorsal long, high-shouldered, greenish, with darkest crimson edging lines of the same tint, and white margin. Petals depressed, of a like green, crimson along the upper edge, covered with the heavy spots and hairs of Rothschildianum. Slipper very long, dull crimson.

Engelhardtiae (insigne Maulei × Spicerianum).—The dorsal has very broad shoulders, narrowing to a wasp-waist, where the upper white changes abruptly to bright green, spotted with pink. A strong crimson line runs from base to tip. Petals so evenly curved downwards that they seem to make a half-circle, coppery yellow in hue, handsomely gauffered on the upper edge, and lined with copper colour. Immensely wide lip, coppery ochre with a bright green lining.

Edwardii (superbiens × Fairieanum).—Dorsal long, white-edged, stained at the margin with purplish crimson and lined with the same. Short narrow petals, very strongly bowed, greenish, edged throughout with purplish crimson. Slipper green at toe, coppery above.

Fairieanum.—No orchid is so interesting as this in the point of view which may be called historic. In the autumn of 1857, Mr. Reid of Burnham and Mr. Parker, nursery-man, of Holloway, sent flowers of it to Sir W. Hooker at Kew, asking what they might be. Shortly afterwards Mr. Fairie of Liverpool showed a plant in flower at the R.H.S. meeting, and Dr. Lindley named it after him. It is believed that all these plants were bought at Stevens’ Sale-rooms among a number of orchids forwarded from Assam. But none have turned up since, and attempts to find the habitat have been totally unsuccessful.

Those who expect to see a flower big in proportion to its fame will be disappointed; but if small, indeed very small, Cyp. Fairieanum is striking both in form and colour. The upstanding dorsal has a crest, from which the sides curl back. Its ground-colour is white with a greenish tinge. Broad lines of maroon fall downwards from the crest, lessening as they go, but multiplying towards the edges, where they form a close network. The petals curl as sharply as a cow’s horn, inverted at the tips to show a maroon lining; they are greenish above, with three sharp little maroon bars at the base, and slender lines of maroon; maroon also is the narrow edging. The shield of the column, small as it is, cannot be overlooked, for it shines like a jewel—exquisitely mottled with the brightest green, accentuated by a tiny arch of maroon on either side. Slipper greenish, with blurred lines of maroon.

Gertrude (Chamberlainianum × insigne Chantinii).—Dorsal white above, bright green below, heavily dotted in lines with crimson-brown. Petals finely gauffered, dusky crimson, spotted. The slipper, crimson-purple, looks very bright by contrast.

Tesselatum porphyreum (concolor × barbatum).—The pale ochreous tone of one parent and the purple of the other have produced a very remarkable result in combination. The general effect distinctly red. The round dorsal is reddish above, of a deeper shade at base, with dotted lines of red; the petals curve down, dark red at the base, fading towards the ends, which are clothed in a pretty network of pale red. The green slipper is clouded and netted over with crimson.

Telemachus (niveum × Lawrenceanum).—The dorsal, very broad, is tinged with purple in the centre. Crimson lines ascend from a green base and the margin all round is white. The petals are green, changing to purple, with darker lines and spots. Slipper crimson.

Tautzianum lepidum (niveum × barbatum Warneri).—A rosy flower, covered throughout with lines and network of crimson. The lip darker.

Georges Truffaut (ciliolare × Stonei).—Very large. The tall dorsal has crimson edges and lines, greenish centre. The twisted petals—greenish, with crimson lines, very large maroon spots and crimson-purple tips—hang loosely. An enormous slipper, all crimson-brown.

Mrs. E. G. Uihlein (villosum aureum × Leeanum giganteum).—The dorsal rises to a point between shoulders perfectly square, white, with a heavy slash of copper from base to crest; the centre greenish-coppery, with lines and mottling of pale crimson. Petals green in the upper half, clouded and lined with copper; paler below. Slipper similar.

Venustum (Measures variety).—A remarkable sport. Small. The white dorsal is striped with clear green lines, rising from a green cloud at the base. The ochreous copper petals have a green base. Slipper the same, covered with a pretty green network.

Watsonianum (Harrisianum nigrum × concolor).—The white crested dorsal shows a crimson line in the centre, green on either side, crimson towards the edges. The petals, dark green at base, fade to a paler tint, and the ends are crimson; all softly lined with crimson. Slipper maroon.

Woodlandsense (Dayanum × Javanicum virens).—Among the rare Cypripeds in this collection, I have noted several of which the dorsal sepal bore a cap, elaborate as eccentric in shape. But this is most singular of all. Between the point of the dorsal and the shoulder is a process which I can only describe in architectural language as a volute reversed; an addition so abnormal and inexplicable that I really find nothing to say about it. In other respects the dorsal is striking—handsomely rounded, white with a rosy margin, the vivid green at the base not fading softly but abrupt almost as a splash; petals the same vivid green, with maroon spots and a stain of copper at the ends. The rosy stamenode shows well upon this ground. Slipper pale green, with a pleasing network of copper.

Zeus (tonsum × Boxallii).—The white globular dorsal rises from a very slender green waist, with a broad dark-crimson line up the centre. Petals dark coppery in the upper half, pale below. Slipper dusky.

Annie Measures (bellatulum × Dayanum).—Dorsal yellowish, outlined white, covered with slender purple lines and dots. Large smooth petals, netted over with small crimson dots in a pattern. Slipper narrow, dull crimson above, white toe.

Frau Ida Brandt (Io grande × Youngianum).—The large dorsal, white at the edges, is suffused with green and purple; the long petals, green and purple, are depressed. Heavy spots of crimson-brown, furnished with stiff hairs, cover them. Handsomely reversed at the tip. Slipper greenish-coppery.

Adrastus (Leeanum × Boxallii).—Here the large white dorsal with green base is heavily blotched with red-brown in the centre, lightly at the sides. The closely drooping petals, yellowish green, have the upper half splashed and mottled with a lively brown almost obscuring the ground-colour, which reappears in the lower half. Lip green at toe, coppery above.

Athos (parentage unknown) has an odd colouring—ochreous-green sepals, outlined with white and profusely dotted with brown; petals bright ochre, the upper length scored with lines of raw sienna. The lip similar.

Arthurianum pulchellum (Fairieanum × insigne Chantinii).—The green dorsal is thickly dotted all over with brown; the tip falls over, showing its white underside. Petals depressed, greenish, charmingly frilled, clouded and lined with copper-brown above, spotted with copper below. Slipper greenish, handsomely veined and marbled in a soft coppery tone.

Astraea (laevigatum × Spicerianum).—Dorsal white, with a pale green base, whence a heavy radius, maroon in colour, mounts to the tip; petals narrow, loosely hanging, greenish at base, crimson-purple through most of their length, marked with red lines. Slipper greenish, stained with purple.

Aurantiacum (venustum × insigne aureum).—Ochreous-green dorsal, its square top broadly crowned with white, spotted below with brownish-red; petals darker, similarly spotted. The slipper harmonises.

Cleopatra (Hookerae × aenanthum superbum).—A striking flower—deep glossy crimson, ribbed with a darker hue. On the upper length of the petals are heavy warts; the lower has a greenish tawny stain at base, like the slipper.

Lily Measures (Dayanum × niveum).—The dorsal is white, daintily flushed, with green base. Lines of red dots ascend from it, growing smaller and fainter as they rise. Such lines form a pleasing network on the petals, which have a yellowish smear at the base. The slipper corresponds.

Lawrebel (Lawrenceanum × bellatulum).—A grand and gorgeous hybrid. The green patch at the base of the dorsal is promptly swallowed up by a crimson cloud, which again fades into a delicious mottling of crimson on a white ground. The petals are vivid green above, paler below, both changing to crimson at the tips. Slipper yellowish at the edge and the toe, crimson between.

Lawrebel (Woodlands variety) shows the difference of colour so often found among seedlings of the same parentage and the same ‘batch.’ Here the crimson is by no means so bright, in fact purplish, but it covers nearly the whole surface of the dorsal, and what remains is not white but green. On the petals also, which are broader, green occupies nearly all the space, though less vivid, and the crimson of the tips almost disappears. They are heavily spotted with maroon. Slipper dusky purple, netted over with maroon.

La France (nitens × niveum).—White and very graceful. The only trace of colour appears in broad pink spots at the base of the dorsal, and smaller spots, more profuse, at the base of the petals. On the slipper they are smaller still, set along the edge.

Lawrenceanum-Hyeanum has a broad white dorsal, clouded with green at the base, and marked with handsome green lines. The narrow petals stand out firmly, vivid green, with lines of a deeper shade. The slipper also is green but pale. Another example is very much larger.

Lawrenceanum Sir Trevor.—This is no hybrid, but a wonderful variety of the species. The dorsal strangely broad and depressed—squat in fact. White in colour, with superb green lines mounting from the green cloud below, it sits tight over the rectangular petals of dark but vivid green, marked with deeper lines. The slipper is yellowish-green.

Leucochilum giganteum (assumed to be a hybrid of Godefroyae × bellatulum).—A compact flower, of which the three parts seem equal in size. White, with a faint ochreous tinge; covered throughout, saving the margin, with crimson spots, which form almost a blotch in the midst of the dorsal. Slipper small and white.

Leysenianum (barbatum Crossii × bellatulum).—The dorsal is very handsome and striking, bright crimson at top, fading to a dusky base, lined with crimson. The clinging petals, tawny green in the upper length, are washed with crimson in the lower; all profusely spotted with maroon. Slipper dull crimson.

Mrs. Fred Hardy (superbiens × bellatulum).—A very dainty hybrid. The dorsal, white with a greenish centre, is covered with interlacing crimson lines dotted with maroon, saving the clear margin. The petals almost form a semi-circle, greenish with a white edge, netted over with pale crimson and dotted with maroon in lines. The slipper greenish, with a pretty pink network round the upper part.

Holidayanum (concolor × almum).—Excepting a narrow white margin the dorsal is bright crimson, darkening towards the greenish base; petals greenish, with edges and dotted lines of crimson. Slipper dull crimson, with yellowish toe.

Hirsuto-Sallierii.—The upper half of the dorsal is white, the lower clear yellow-green, the whole covered with antlered lines of grass-green; petals yellow-green, finely frilled, tipped with palest purple. Pale purple and greenish also is the slipper.

Mrs. Herbert Measures (Lathamianum × Leeanum giganteum).—The great dorsal, yellow tinged with purple, has the shape of a flattened peg-top. A broad splash of maroon bisects it. The cinnamon-coloured petals are flushed with red, and lined with the same tint; the midrib is maroon. Slipper abnormally wide, purplish.

Javanicum.—A species, named from its habitat. Small and solidly green save the white crest of the dorsal, and the pale purple tips of the narrow petals. Such strong and decided colouring makes it useful to the hybridiser.

Measuresianum (villosum × venustum).—The small triangular dorsal, white, is evenly striped with green; petals yellow-green, with a grass-green base and emerald lines from end to end. The slipper shows a charming network of vivid green on a tawny yellow ground.

Marchioness of Salisbury (bellatulum × barbatum superbum, Sander’s variety).—Dorsal hollow, broadly crimson all round the margin, dusky white inside, striped with crimson and speckled with maroon. Petals closely depressed, white, with a shade of green above, of crimson below, dotted with maroon. Slipper tawny crimson, with clouding of the same.

Marshallianum (venustum-pardinum × concolor).—Unique in effect. Dorsal and petals ochreous white, with a faint crimson flush; all densely covered with minute crimson dots. Slipper of a yellow almost bright.

Brysa (Boissierianum × Sedeni candidulum).—A handsome plant, with long pale leaves. Dorsal greenish, corkscrew petals similar, tinged with pink. Slipper pale pink, all the inside prettily dotted with brown.

Muriel Hollington (niveum × insigne).—A broad flower but compact. The globular white dorsal has a pink cloud at the base and dots of crimson. The petals, similar, have crimson lines. Slipper prettily mottled with pink.

Lavinia (concolor × barbatum).—White of ground-colour all through, with a faintest flush of rose-pink. The whole of the dorsal marked with maroon dots upon regular lines of crimson. The broad drooping petals are spotted irregularly with the same tint. The narrow white slipper has a close array of crimson dots round the edge.

Cydonia (concolor × Curtisii).—Dorsal flesh-colour at the edges; in the middle a broad green stain which fades towards the apex. Midrib brown-crimson, with a paler network of the same over all. Petals crimson above, then greenish, pink or light crimson below, with faint lines and sharp little dots of crimson-brown. Slipper brownish and green.

Symonsianum (volonteanum × Rothschildianum).—Impressive for size and width, but not brilliant nor attractive in colour. Dorsal greenish, with pink-flushed edges, marked by strong lines of crimson-brown. Petals greenish, tipped with pale crimson, strongly dotted along the edges with the bristling tufts of Rothschildianum. Slipper nondescript—greenish and purplish.

J. Coles (Godefrovae-leucochilum majesticum × Dayanum superbum).—A charming flower. The dorsal is purplish crimson, with a pretty tinge of green in the midst and narrow white edges; the whole lined and netted over with crimson-purple. Petals the same, very dark at base, paling to a greenish centre; all closely spotted with the dark crimson tone. Slipper maroon, highly polished.

Princess May (callosum × Sanderianum).—A stately bloom, of impressive colouring. The tall bulbous dorsal is white at the crest, crimson-lake below, pale green at base; the whole striped with maroon and with crimson dots. Petals long, drooping far below the greenish slipper, green in the midst, with crimson edges and profuse dottings of crimson.

Pylaeus (Cardinale × Sedeni).—Pink and pretty. The pointed dorsal is pale pink above, greenish in the midst. The sharp pink petals have edges of carmine, and carmine tips. The pouch-like slipper is crimson; its lining ivory, marbled with pink.

Phoebe (laevigatum × bellatulum).—Rosy-white throughout. The dorsal bears a cloud of crimson-lake, sharply defined, darkening to maroon at the base, whence proceed heavy branching lines of crimson and maroon. The petals, crimson-stained above, heavily dotted all over with maroon, have white margins. Slipper bright crimson at the top, whitish below.

Paris (bellatulum × Stonei).—A grand beauty. The broad globular dorsal has a greenish patch in the midst, surrounded by purple, netted all over with maroon lines. The edges are pure white, as distinct as if drawn with the brush. Petals depressed, curiously blunted at the tips, verdigris-green at base, fading and changing to dusky crimson, with heavy spots of deepest maroon. Slipper purple, netted over with carmine; yellowish at the toe.

Rowena (Chamberlainianum × bellatulum).—Dorsal greenish-yellow above, darkest maroon below; branching maroon lines circle upwards. Petals greenish towards the tips, clouded at base, edged, scored, and dotted all over with maroon-crimson. The shield of the column intensely dark maroon and shining. Slipper striped with a pleasant pale crimson, and closely speckled over with tiny points of a darker shade.

Mrs. W. A. Roebling (caudatum × leucorrhodum).—The colouring is very delicate. Dorsal long, with a twisted crest; all stainless grass-green. Petals, which make one complete revolution or twist, softly greenish in the middle, edged with tender pale crimson, which also appears on the reverse; the lower base shows a brilliant decoration of tiny crimson bars round the column. The pouched slipper, bright pink, has a yellow lining, freckled with greenish dots.

Reticulatum.—A species, known also as Boissierianum, as curious as charming. The dorsal, of extraordinary length and the same narrow width throughout, curls over at the crest—bright pea-green, with slender lines a shade darker. The petals have the same slender green lines; they are very thin, closely and evenly twisted in six complete spirals. The shield of the column intensely dark green. Slipper green, its lining snow-white, with purple dots.

Charles Richmond (bellatulum × barbatum superbum).—The broad purplish dorsal has a whitish outline and a greenish tinge in the centre; its midrib is very strong purple, as are the lines which intersect it. Petals purple, darker at the base, dotted all over with maroon. Slipper dark purplish-crimson. In colour, shape, and size alike this hybrid is most impressive.

Schofieldianum (bellatulum × hirsutissimum).—Very distinct. On a yellowish-white ground the dorsal has a pale greenish centre, surrounded by purple, deepening at the base; all scored with branching lines of purple in dots. The petals are broad and strong, yellowish-white, tinged with purple, closely covered with maroon-purple dots. Slipper purplish-crimson, greenish at the toe.

Southgatense (callosum × bellatulum).—The dorsal has a rosy-white ground, very heavily clouded with dark crimson below, and almost hidden by strong lines of crimson and maroon. The petals have a touch of bright green at the base, edges of a lively dark crimson, and strong dots of maroon. Slipper crimson, dusky yellow at the toe.

Southgatense superbum.—This is another example of the difference which seedlings from the same pod may display; cases even more striking could be adduced with ease. Incomparably finer than the last. The rosy-white dorsal is stained with crimson up to the edges, and scored with darker lines. The petals, slightly greenish at the base, have a dotting of crimson on their rosy-white ground. The slipper, whitish, is prettily speckled with crimson round the top.

Massaianum (superciliare × Rothschildianum).—A large bold flower. Dorsal white, greenish in the middle. Clear thin lines of purple, almost black, alternate with lines equally thin of pale green. The fine long petals are greenish above, palest purple below, with the massive spots of Rothschildianum. Strong hairs line the edges. The broad shield is dusky ochre. Slipper maroon, netted over with a deeper shade.

Miss Clara Measures (bellatulum eximium × barbatum grandiflorum).—Lively dark crimson. The crest of the dorsal is handsomely defined by semicircular scallops on each side. Petals depressed, clinging to the slipper, greenish at base, fading and changing to the same bright dark crimson as the dorsal; all speckled finely in a deeper shade. Slipper crimson. A grand flower.

Measuresiae (bellatulum × superbiens).—Dorsal rosy, with green tip and a faintly green centre, dotted over with maroon in lines. Petals rosy white, tinged with purple above, strongly speckled with maroon. Slipper crimson, fading towards the toe, covered with crimson dots.

Winifred Hollington (niveum × callosum).—Dorsal pale dusky crimson, purple at base; lines of the same colour, accentuated by dots. The handsome petals are pale purple, with darker branching lines and specks over all. Slipper purplish, with pale crimson lines.

Nitidum (selligerum majus × nitens).—Very large. The broad white edges of the dorsal fold sharply back. It is green in the midst, with green lines and longitudinal rows of strong dark brown spots. Petals clear brown above, with a tinge of maroon, paler below, with spots of the same. Slipper brownish. The whole polished and shiny to a degree which gives it the name nitidum.

But there was one astonishing peculiarity in the flower which I saw—the first produced. Everyone knows that in the genus Cypripedium the two lower sepals are fused together, making a single limb, small commonly, insignificant, and nearly hidden by the slipper. But in this case there was no attempt at fusion. The lower sepals stood out as clearly as in a Cattleya, one on each side the slipper—whitish, with green lines and crimson spots at the base. It will be interesting to observe whether this deformity—which is in truth a return to the more graceful pristine form—will prove to be permanent.

Sir Redvers Buller.—A new hybrid of which the parents are understood to be Lucie × insigne; the former itself a hybrid—Lawrenceanum × ciliolare. I have not seen the flower, which is thus described in the Gardeners’ Chronicle, Jan. 20, 1900: ‘The fine dorsal is of a pale-green tint in the lower half with dark chocolate-purple dotted lines; the upper portion pure white, with the basal dark lines continued into it, but of a deep rose-purple. The petals are yellowish, tinged with rose on the outer halves and blotched with dark purplish chocolate. Lip greenish with the face tinged reddish-brown.’

STORY OF CYPRIPEDIUM PLATYTAENIUM

This is the rarest and costliest of all orchids—of all flowers that blow, indeed, and all green things, from the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop upon the housetop. I think it no exaggeration to say that a strong specimen would be worth its weight in diamonds if a little one—for the most enthusiastic of millionaires seem to lose courage when biddings go beyond a certain sum. But it is long since any plants came into the market.

I suppress part of the name, as usual, fearing to daunt casual readers. Be it understood that this treasure is a variety of Cypripedium Stoneii; the specific title should be introduced in speaking of it. Doubtless platytaenium is a very handsome member of the family, impressive in size and shape, elegantly coloured. But one who regards the flower with eyes undazzled by fashion may pronounce that its value lies mostly in its renown.

But one plant has ever been discovered; and that came to Europe unannounced. Messrs. Low sold a quantity of a new Cypripedium from Borneo. Some pieces were bought by Mr. Day, of Tottenham, at an average of eight shillings each. They flowered successively, and Mr. Day named the species Stoneii, after his excellent gardener. In 1863, however, one appeared different to the rest—different, as it has proved, to all the myriads which have been discovered since. This was named platytaenium. But besides the merit of rarity, it is distinguished by a peculiar slowness of growth. Mr. Day multiplied the specimen as fast as he could, but between 1863 and 1881 he only succeeded in making four small plants from it. One of these was sold to Mrs. Morgan, of New York; it perished, doubtless, for when, at her death, a Cypriped was put up under that hallowed name, and bought at a long price, it proved to be the common Stoneii. Mr. Dorman, of Sydenham, was the victim. I may mention that two of the largest orchid-dealers in Europe sent an agent expressly to buy this ‘lot’ in New York. Mr. Day then had three left. One of them he divided, and gave a fragment to his sister, Mrs. Wolstenholme. The Tottenham collection was dispersed in 1881; Mr. Day kept one small plant, Baron Schröder bought one for £106; Mr. Lee, of Leatherhead, and Sir Trevor Lawrence, in partnership, one for £147. Three or four years afterwards this was divided, each partner taking his share. Baron Schröder afterwards bought Mr. Lee’s. Also he bought the one Mr. Day kept back, for £159:12s., at the death of that gentleman. Then Mrs. Wolstenholme’s executors put up her example—which had never flowered—and Baron Schröder secured it for £100. These prices do not seem to bear out my statement that platytaenium is the most valuable of all orchids. Infinitely greater sums have been paid. But it must be remembered that these were all tiny bits, weakened by division whenever they grew big enough to cut. At present Baron Schröder and Sir Trevor Lawrence have all the stock existing, to human knowledge. How much either would obtain at Protheroe’s for his little hoard makes a favourite theme for speculation in a gathering of orchidists. They have one significant hint to go upon. Two years ago Mr. Ames, of Boston, U.S.A., commissioned Mr. Sander to offer Sir Trevor Lawrence a cheque of 800 guineas for one plant. And Sir Trevor declined it.

Now for the legend. That consignment of Cyp. Stoneii in which platytaenium appeared was forwarded by Sir Hugh Low from Sarawak. He recalls the circumstances with peculiar distinctness, as is natural. The plants were collected on the very top of a limestone hill at Bidi, near Bau, famous afterwards in the annals of Sarawak as the spot whence the Chinese insurgents started to overthrow the government of Rajah Brooke. But the gold washings had not been discovered then. Such Chinamen as dwelt in the neighbourhood were mostly gardeners and small traders. A few sought nuggets in holes and fissures of the limestone, and found them, too, occasionally. Sir Hugh Low could never frame a satisfactory explanation of the presence of gold under such conditions, but it is frequent in Borneo. That auriferous strata should decompose, and that nuggets should be transferred to another formation during the process, is easily intelligible. But in many instances, as at Bau, the gold is found at a considerable height, and no trace remains of those loftier hills from which it must have fallen. Deposits of tin occur under just the same circumstances in the Malay Peninsula.

The top of this little hill was a basin, much like a shallow crater, encircled by jagged peaks as by a wall. Each of these was clothed in the glossy leaves of Cyp. Stoneii from top to bottom, as it would be with ivy in our latitude. So easy was orchid-collecting in those days. Sir Hugh had but to choose the finest, and pull off as many as his servants could carry. In the hollow of the basin other Cypripeds were growing—plants with spotted foliage—and he has not ceased to regret leaving these untouched, since wider knowledge inclines him to fancy that they belonged to species not yet introduced. At one spot, however, beneath the shadow of the little peaks, gold-seekers made a practice of camping. Ashes lay thick there, and bits of charcoal and dry bones. Here sprang a single tuft of Cyp. Stoneii, and in passing Sir Hugh was tempted to dig it up. He cherishes a suspicion—which he does not attempt to justify, of course—that this solitary plant, growing under conditions so different to the rest, was platytaenium.

Some years afterwards, a young clerk in the service of a German firm at Singapore, visited Sarawak on his holiday. Orchids made a standing topic for conversation in that early time. He heard much about Mr. Day’s priceless Cypriped at the capital, and he resolved to try his luck. I may call him Smidt for convenience; my informants are not sure of the name, after a lapse of forty years.

There is no trouble in reaching Bau. The village stands on the river Sarawak, and at any moment of the day a sampan can be hired to take one thither. Smidt did not travel in luxury. If he kept a ‘boy’ at Singapore, like a thrifty young Teuton he left him behind. Servants are as easily found in those countries as sampans, if one be not too particular. Smidt engaged a Chinaman who had good recommendations, though not of recent date, nor from persons living in Sarawak; he had come thither from Penang to ‘better himself,’ as he said, and had been working at the gold-fields. For convenience again we may give him a name—Ahtan.

The project of visiting Bau was not agreeable to this Chinaman. ‘I makee bad pigeon there one time,’ he said frankly. But the objection was not serious.

Bau had changed since Sir Hugh Low’s day. In the meantime the Dutch authorities at Sambas had irritated the gold-diggers of that region to the point that they massacred a body of troops—I do not mean to hint that the Dutch policy was unjustifiable. In consequence a great number of Chinamen fled across the frontier, found profitable washings at Bau, and invited their comrades. So many came, and they showed such a lawless spirit from the outset, that the Rajah’s government took alarm. But as yet all was quiet enough.

Smidt had obtained a note from one of the Chinese merchants at Sarawak, with whom his employers did business, to the head of the Kunsi—the Gold-diggers’ Union, as we should say. That personage invited him to use his house. Unwillingly did Ahtan accompany his master. He bowed before the Kunsi chief, and made a long discourse with downcast eyes and folded hands. The chief answered shortly and motioned him to go about his business.

If Smidt made inquiries about that wonderful organisation, the Kunsi of the gold-diggers at Bau, so soon to be crushed in a mad revolt, assuredly he found matter to interest him. The parent society in Sambas has annals dating back two hundred years, and its system was imported, they say, from China without alteration. There is no reason to doubt the statement. Anyhow, we find among these immigrants, two centuries ago, a perfected system of trade union, benefit clubs, life assurance, co-operative stores, and provision for old age, such as British working-men may contemplate with puzzled and envious despair at the present day. Every detail is so well adjusted—by the experience of ages—that disputes scarcely ever arise; when they do the Council gives judgment, and no one questions its decision. The earnings of the whole body are stored in the Treasury. There is a general meeting once a fortnight, when the accounts are audited in public, and each member receives his share as per scale, subject to the deduction for veterans’ past work, widows and orphans, and also for the goods he has bought at the co-operative store. But I must not linger on this fascinating theme.

Next day Smidt started to explore the famous hill with Ahtan, who carried the tambok—the luncheon basket. He found Cypripeds beyond counting and noted certain spots to be re-visited. Then he chose a shady nook for lunch, and Ahtan lit a fire.

It was beneath a wall of limestone, a tangle of foliage above, where the sunlight struck it, but clothed only in moss and ferns and bare roots in the shade below. There was wind upon the hill as usual, and Ahtan made his fire in a cleft.

Smith sat on a log opposite, smoking, after the meal. He remembered afterwards that Ahtan was eager to start, packing his utensils hastily, and predicting ‘muchee rain by’m bye minute.’ But no signs of change were visible. Presently the Chinaman put a quantity of green leaves upon the fire. Such a volume of smoke arose as called Smidt’s attention.

It was in a cleft, and he sat opposite, as has been said. The blaze had scorched that drapery of ferns. The moss just above had peeled off in flakes, taken fire mostly and dropped. So in places the rock stood bare. Looking in that direction now, Smidt observed a yellow gleam, hidden by smoke for a moment, then reappearing more distinctly. It was worth investigation. He rose leisurely and crossed the little space. Ahtan was standing on one side. As he scattered the fire with his foot, looking for that yellow gleam the while, a tremendous blow felled him. He was dimly conscious of another before his senses fled.

Not till sunset did Smidt feel strong enough to descend the hill; before starting he looked for the ‘yellow gleam’—it had vanished, and in place of it was a hole. Bloodstained and tottering he regained the public path. Diggers returning from their work laughed heartily at the spectacle, but perhaps they meant no harm. Chinamen must not be judged by the laws that apply to other mortals. At least they warned the chief, who sent two stalwart members of the Kunsi to assist his guest. They also found the situation vastly amusing, but they were kind enough.

The chief had a bottle of skimpin ready. He set a slave to wash Smidt’s head, and clothed him in a snowy bajo. No questions did he ask. Smidt told his short story, and begged him to pursue the malefactor.

‘No good, sir,’ said the chief. ‘I policeman here—I know. Where you think Ahtan?’

‘In the jungle, I suppose, making for Kuching with the great nugget he picked out of the rock. Send to warn the Tuan magistrate, at least.’

‘I say, sir, I Tuan magistrate here, and I know.’ He unlocked a coffer, iron-bound, using three separate keys; brought out a parcel wrapped in cloth and slowly unfolded it, looking at Smidt the while, his narrow eyes twinkling.

‘You say nugget, hey?’

Smidt gasped. It was a lump of gold as big as his two fists.

‘Is this—is this mine?’

The chief sat down to laugh and rolled about, spluttering Chinese interjections.

‘Is this mine? He-he-he-he! Mine? This gold, sir! Kunsi take gold—all gold here! You says, mine, sir? Ha! ha! ha!’

Smidt did not feel assured of his legal rights.

‘You took it from Ahtan?’ he asked. ‘Did you arrest him?’

The chief had another fit. Recovering, he answered, ‘Ahtan down this way,’ and stamped upon the ground.

‘In the cellar? Oh, that’s a comfort! I’ll carry him to Kuching to-morrow.’

This caused another outburst of merriment. ‘I tell, sir, I Tuan magistrate at Bau. Ahtan he under order for kingdom come to-night.’

This was rather shocking. ‘Oh, I don’t ask that. He must be tried.’

‘What your matter, sir?’ the chief snapped out. ‘I try him, and I say die! Ahtan is Kunsi man. He play trick before—I let him go. We catch him on river with gold. He die this time.’

Doubtless he did—not for attempted murder, but for breaking his oath to the Kunsi. Smidt ought to have denounced this monstrous illegality to the Rajah. But his firm did a great business with Chinamen, and their secret societies have a very long arm. I imagine that he held his tongue.

STORY OF CYPRIPEDIUM SPICERIANUM

The annals of Cypripedium Spicerianum open in 1878, when Mrs. Spicer, a lady residing at Wimbledon, asked Messrs. Veitch to come and see a curious flower, very lovely, as she thought, which had made its appearance in her green-house. Messrs. Veitch came; with no extravagant hopes perhaps, for experience might well make them distrustful of feminine enthusiasm. But in this instance it was more than justified, and, in short, they carried off the marvel, leaving a cheque for seventy guineas behind. I may remark that Cypripeds are easy to cultivate. They are also quick to increase. Messrs. Veitch hurried their specimen along, and divided it as fast as was safe. To say that the morsels fetched their weight in gold would be the reverse of exaggeration—mere bathos.

Importers sat up. They were not without a hint to direct their search in this case. The treasure had arrived amongst a quantity of Cyp. insigne. Therefore it must be a native of the Himalayan region—Assam, Darjeeling, or Sikkim, no doubt. There are plenty of persons along that frontier able and willing to hunt up a new plant. A good many of them probably received commissions to find Cypripedium Spicerianum.

At St. Albans they were more deliberate. It is not exactly usual for ladies residing at Wimbledon to receive consignments of orchids. When such an event happens, one may conclude that they have relatives or intimate friends in the district where those orchids grow; it will hardly be waste of time anyhow to inquire. A discreet investigation proved that this lady’s son was a tea-planter, with large estates on the confines of Bhutan. With the address in his pocket Mr. Forstermann, a collector of renown, started by next mail.

Orchids must be classed with ferae naturae in which a landowner has no property. But it is not to be supposed that a man of business will tell the casual inquirer where to pick up, on his own estate, weeds worth seventy guineas each. Forstermann did not expect it. Leaving his baggage at the dak bungalow, he strolled afoot to the large and handsome mansion indicated. Mr. Spicer was sitting in the verandah, and in the pleasant, easy way usual with men who very rarely see a white stranger of respectable appearance, he shouted:

‘Are you looking for me, sir? Come up!’

Forstermann went up, took an arm-chair and a cheroot, accepted a comforting glass, and sketched his experiences of the road before declaring even his name. Then he announced himself as an aspirant tea-planter, desirous to gain some practical knowledge of the business before risking his very small capital. In short, could Mr. Spicer give him a ‘job’?

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Mr. Spicer. ‘We have quite as many men in your position as we can find work for. But anyhow you can look round and talk to our people and see whether the life is likely to suit you. Meantime, you’re very welcome to stay here as my guest. If you’ve brought a gun, my manager will show you some sport; but he’s away just now. Oh, you needn’t thank me. In my opinion it’s the duty of men who have succeeded to help beginners along, and I’m sorry I can’t do more for you.’

Forstermann remembers a twinge of conscience here. It may be indubitable that orchids are ferae naturae. But they have a distinct money value for all that, and to remove them from the estate of a man who gives you a reception like this! Anyhow, he felt uncomfortable. But to find the thing was his first duty. Possibly some arrangement might be made, though he could not imagine how.

The invitation was accepted, of course, and a week passed very pleasantly. But Forstermann could not bring his host to the point desired. Several times they observed Cypripedium insigne whilst riding or driving about the neighbourhood. Mr. Spicer even remarked, when his attention was called to it, that he had sent a number of plants home; but nothing followed. Then the manager returned, and the same night an appointment was made to go after duck on the morrow.

Forstermann turned out at dawn, but his companion was not ready. He gave the explanation as they rode along.

‘We had another chelan last night—you have learnt the meaning of that word, I daresay!—a faction fight among our people. The coolies on this estate come mostly from Chota Nagpore, and thereabouts. They’re good workers, and not so troublesome as regular Hindus when once they’ve settled down. But there’s generally a bother when a new gang arrives. We tell our agents to be very careful in recruiting none but friendly clans. Young Mice and Fig Leaves we find best among the Oraons, Stars and Wild Geese among the Sonthals.’ Forstermann was puzzled, but he did not interrupt. ‘It’s no use, however. They take any fellow that comes along—and between ourselves, you know, considering how many of those scamps bolt with the contract-money and never enlist a soul, we haven’t so very much to complain of. It’s a bad system, sir!

‘Well, when they get here, a mixed lot, they find half a dozen mixed lots established. We have, to my knowledge,’ reckoning on his fingers, ‘Tortoises, Tigers, Crows, Eels, Grass-spiders, Fishing-nets—ay, and a lot more, besides Stars and Wild-geese. Of course, they quarrel at sight, and we don’t interfere unless the chelan gets serious. What’s the good? But, besides that, there is a standing provocation, as you may say. Some of our coolies have been with us many years. They don’t care to go home—for reasons good, no doubt, but it’s not our business. Well, two of these fellows have married—one, a Potato, has married the Stomach of a pig——’

‘Eh?’ Forstermann could not contain himself.

‘Those are their families, you know.’ The manager, quite grave hitherto, laughed out suddenly. ‘Of course, it seems mighty droll to you, but we’re accustomed to it. Each clan claims to be descended from the thing after which it is named. You mustn’t ask me how the Stomach of a pig can have children. That’s beyond our understanding. The point is that certain of these stocks may not intermarry under pain of death—that’s their law. So you may fancy the rumpus when strange Potatoes arriving here find one of their breed——’ he laughed again. ‘It does sound funny, when you think of it! Last night, however, when the usual disturbance broke out—a new gang arrived yesterday, you know—Minjar, the Eel, who is the other fellow that has married some girl he ought not to, declared he had made blood-brotherhood with the chief of the Bhutias across the river, who would come to avenge him if he were hurt. And I fancy that’s not quite such nonsense as you would think. I saw Minjar there that time I got the orchid——’

Forstermann heard no more of the tale. The orchid! They reached the pool, and he shot ducks conscientiously, but his thoughts were busy in devising means to lead the conversation back to that point.

There was no need of finesse, however. At a word the manager told everything. He it was who found the Cypripedium which had caused such a fuss, when shooting on the other side of the river—that is, beyond British territory. Struck with its beauty, he gathered a plant or two and gave them to Mr. Spicer. It took him several days’ journey to reach the spot, but he was shooting by the way. Tigers abounded there—so did fever. The mountaineers were as unfriendly as they dared to be. For these reasons Mr. Spicer begged him not to return. The same motive, doubtless, caused the planter to be reticent towards others.

With a clear conscience and heartiest thanks Forstermann bade his host farewell next day. He had a long and painful search before him still, for his informant could give no more than general directions. The plant grew upon rocks along the bed of a stream to the north-west of Mr. Spicer’s plantation, not less than two days’ journey from the river—that was about all. The inhabitants of the country, besides tigers, were savages.

Many a stream did Forstermann explore under the most uncomfortable circumstances, wading thigh-deep, hour after hour, day after day. I am sorry that I have not room even to summarise the long letter in which he detailed those adventures.

To search the upland waters would have been comparatively easy; he might have walked along the bank. But the Cypripedium grew in a valley; and nowhere is tropical vegetation more dense than in those steaming clefts which fall from the mountains of Bhutan. To cut a path was out of the question; the work would have lasted for months, putting expense aside. It was necessary to march up the bed of the stream.

Forstermann ascended each tributary with patient hopefulness, knowing that success was certain if he could hold out. And it came at length to one so deserving; but the manager had wandered to a much greater distance than he thought. After wading all the forenoon up a torrent which had not yet lost its highland chill, Forstermann reached a glade, encircled by rocks steep as a wall—so steep that he had to fashion rakes of bamboo wherewith to drag down the masses of orchid which clung to them. It was Cypripedium Spicerianum!

Then arose the difficulty of getting his plunder away. After much journeying to and fro, Forstermann engaged thirty-two Bhutias, half of them to carry rice for the others along those mountain tracks, where 25 lbs. is a heavy load. So they travelled until, one day, after halting at a village, the men refused to advance. The road ahead was occupied by a tiger—I should mention that such alarms had been incessant; in no country are tigers so common or so dangerous as in Bhutan. Forstermann drove them along; at the next bit of jungle eight threw down their loads and vanished. He found himself obliged to return, but eight more were missing when he reached the village. There was no other road. Gradually the poor fellow perceived that he must abandon his enterprise or clear the path. At sunset, they told him, the brute would be watching—probably in a tree, described with precision. Forstermann spent the time in writing farewell letters—making his will, perhaps. Towards sunset, he took a rifle and a gun and sallied forth.

The Bhutias assured him that there was no danger—from this enemy, at least—until he reached the neighbourhood of the tree; but we may imagine the terrors of that lonely walk, which must be repeated in darkness, if he lived, or if the tiger did not show. But luck did not desert a man so worthy of favour. He recognised the tree, an old dead stump overhanging the path, clothed in ferns and creepers. Surveying it as steadily as the tumult of his spirits would allow, in the fading light he traced a yellow glimmer among the leaves. Through his field-glass, at twenty yards’ distance, he scrutinised this faint shadow. The tiger grew impatient—softly it raised its head—so softly behind that screen of ferns that a casual wayfarer would not have noticed it. But it was the hint Forstermann needed. With a prayer he took aim, fired—threw down his rifle and snatched the gun. But crash—stone-dead fell the tiger, and its skin is a hearthrug on which I stood to hear this tale.

So on March 9, 1884, 40,000 plants of Cypripedium Spicerianum were offered at Stevens’ Auction Rooms.