EPIDENDRUM SCHOMBURGKII. SCHOMBURGK’S EPIDENDRUM. 
Class XX. GYNANDRIA.— Order I. MONANDRIA. 
Natural Order, ORCHIDE^E. THE ORCHIS TRIBE. 
Character of the Genus, Epidendrum. Perigon spreading, the outer divisions nearly 
equal, the inner ones equal to them, or narrower, seldom broader. Labellum with the claw con- 
nate with the column, either along its whole length or in part; the limb entire or divided ; the disk usually 
callous, ribbed, or tuberculate, sometimes extending into a spur adhering to the ovary. Column elongated; 
the receptacle of the anther bordered, usually fringed. Anther fleshy, two or four-celled. Pollen 
masses four, with as many bent back caudicles. 
Description of the Species, Epidendrum Schomburgkii. Epiphyte growing to the height 
of two or three feet, without pseudo-bulbs. Stem leafy in its lower half, having in the upper part none 
but closely appressed sheathing squamee. Leaves sheathing at the base, distichous, spreading, oblong, 
blunt, thick and fleshy, spotted with dark pink in a wild state, according to Schomburgk, generally two or 
three inches long. Flowers in a terminal raceme, which from the closeness of the pedicels to each other, 
takes the form of a loose head. Pedicels simple, one-flowered, each at the axil of a small bract. Ovary 
long, curved. Sepals and Petals all similar and equal, spreading, lanceolate, pointed, narrowed at the base, 
above half an inch, or nearly three-quarters in length, of a rich scarlet. Labellum borne on a claw which 
is connate with the column, into a club-shaped scarlet tube with a yellow orifice, rather shorter than the 
petals ; the limbs broadly orbicular, more or less deeply divided into three broad obovate, cuneate lobes, 
irregularly fringed on the margin; at the base are two projecting calli, and between them a projecting lon- 
gitudinal line. 
Popular and ‘Geographical Notice. The genus Epidendrum which, in the days of Linnaeus 
and his immediate successors, was the common receptacle for nearly all tropical Orchidaceous Epiphytes 
known at that time, was first reduced to its natural limits by Brown, and, as adopted by Lindley, it remains 
at once a well-defined and a very numerous genus; probably the most numerous in America, to which 
hemisphere it is strictly confined. Every collection from the hotter parts of that country furnishes some 
new species, and the seventy-one enumerated by Lindley, in 1831, are, perhaps, now nearly doubled. The 
one here figured, one of the finest of the genus, chiefly from the richness of its colour, was discovered at the 
foot of the mountain Attarypon, near the Rupunoony, in British Guiana, by M. Schomburgk, who in a 
letter to Dr. Lindley, quoted in the Botanical Register, states that he found it growing, in company with 
Coryanthes on a tree on the banks of the river, exposed to full light. The description made in the same 
work, taken from dried specimens and from a drawing of M. Schomburgfs, and the anticipations as to its 
beauty, have been fully confirmed now that the plant has flowered in our stoves.* 
Autumn, and particularly the Evening of Autumn, has been a chosen season for study and reflection 
with some of the most exalted spirits of which our country can boast. Milton we know to have been so 
partial to this period of the year, and so impressed with a conviction of its friendliness to poetic inspiration, 
as to leave it on record that he felt the promptings of his genius most effectual and satisfactory to himself 
about the Autumnal Equinox. 
To Thomson, who partook of much of the sublimity, and possessed an ample share of the pensive 
enthusiasm of Milton, we are indebted for an express tribute to Autumn, as the season best suited to phi- 
losophic thought and poetic composition. He is describing the retired and contemplative man, who watches 
with discriminating admiration the phenomena of the revolving year, and who from all he sees and feels 
derives a source of the purest and most permanent enjoyment. 
He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems, 
Marks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale 
Into his freshened soul; her genial hours 
He full enjoys ; and not a beauty blows 
And not an opening blossom breathes in vain. 
In summer he, beneath the living shade, 
S uch as o’er frigid Temple wont to wave 
Or Hemus cool, reads what the Muse, of these 
Perhaps, has in immortal numbers sung: 
Or what she dictates writes : and, oft an eye 
Shot round, rejoices in the vigorous year. 
When Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world, 
And tempts the sickled swain into the field, 
Seiz’d by the general joy, his heart distends 
With gentle throes, and through the tepid gleams 
Deep-musing, then he best exerts his song. 
* The Botanist. 
