P. spicerianums are very much in bloom now. It is one of my favorite species, being easy to grow, and charming to look at. The story of its discovery is fascinating as well. The following is an excerpt from About Orchids (1893) by Frederick Boyle:
It [P. spicerianum] turned up among a quantity of Cypripedium insigne in the greenhouse of Mrs. Spicer, a lady residing at Twickenham. Astonished at the appearance of this swan among her ducks, she asked Mr. Veitch to look at it. He was delighted to pay seventy guineas down for such a prize. Cypripediums propagate easily, no more examples came into the market, and for some years this lovely species was a treasure for dukes and millionaires. It was no secret that the precious novelty came from Mrs. Spicer’s greenhouse; but to call on a strange lady and demand how she became possessed of a certain plant is not a course of action that commends itself to respectable business men. The circumstances gave no clue. Messrs. Spicer were and are large manufacturers of paper; there is no visible connection betwixt paper and Indian orchids. By discreet inquiries, however, it was ascertained that one of the lady’s sons had a tea-plantation in Assam. No more was needed.
Here, like many tales of orchid discovery, things get a bit confused and muddled. The Mr. Veitch named above was one of the premier orchid and plant dealers in England (and hence the world), and his botanical legacy lives on to this day. Veitch was in competition with Frederick Sander (after whom P. sanderianum is named), whose orchid exploits earned him the moniker of “The Orchid King.” The confusion comes in the mention of Mr. Forstermann in the next sentence. Forstermann was the actual orchid hunter who ventured nto the wildest of places to find these rarest of plants. Forstermann didn’t work for Veitch, though — he worked for Sander.
By the next mail Mr. Forstermann started for that vague destination, and in process of time reached Mr. Spicer’s bungalow. There he asked for “a job.” None could be found for him; but tea-planters are hospitable, and the stranger was invited to stop a day or two. But he could not lead the conversation towards orchids—perhaps because his efforts were too clever, perhaps because his host took no interest in the subject. One day, however, Mr. Spicer’s manager invited him to go shooting, and casually remarked “we shall pass the spot where I found those orchids they’re making such a fuss about at home.” Be sure Mr. Forstermann was alert that morning! Thus put upon the track, he discovered quantities of it, bade the tea-planter adieu, and went to work; but in the very moment of triumph a tiger barred the way, his coolies bolted, and nothing would persuade them to go further. Mr. Forstermann was no shikari, but he felt himself called upon to uphold the cause of science and the honour of England at this juncture. In great agitation he went for that feline, and, in short, its skin still adorns Mrs. Sander’s drawing-room. Thus it happened that on a certain Thursday a small pot of C. Spicerianum was sold, as usual, for sixty guineas at Stevens’s; on the Thursday following all the world could buy fine plants at a guinea.
Hmm, exaggerations and orchid sales go hand in hand. The bit about science and England’s honor seems to omit the true motivation: the money. Rare orchids in those days, being the near-exclusive province of nobility and merchant princes, commanded astronomical prices. They still do (but more on that in another post.) Ultimately, many thousands of plants were sent to England, and eventually some made it to the US, where they could be obtained in 1889 for $5 each. What is that in today’s dollars? Probably somewhere between $113 to ~$500. (You can obtain an estimate at www.measuringworth.com, where you get a range of values depending on how you look at relative worth.) Today, in 2007 dollars, you can obtain a fine specimen of this once exceedingly valuable plant for $20 - $30. Interested parties should email orchids@paphinessorchids.com.
