Seeds of Fortune: A Dramatic Tale of Politics at Kew Gardens
Jungles, espionage, classified secrets, cars, opera and WWII. What else?
Dear friends,
Ever since I first read about this story, I have been captivated by its atmosphere and its relevance to our contemporary times. Since then, I've delved into books, press articles, and museum art pieces related to this subject. After several months of contemplating writing about it and sharing this unbelievable plot – largely unknown to the public, even to those close to the main characters – I have finally gathered the courage that a writer needs to compile all the information and convey the following lines. I sincerely hope you enjoy it and share the story with your guests over a fantastic dinner, with your friends as an amazing narrative, and with your own self reflected in a tranquil pond to gain a better understanding of our present.
I look forward to your feedback.
Synopsis
Occasionally, advancements in technology compel us to navigate towards future climate crises with the assistance of the most environmentally conscious institutions. Let's delve into one of the most captivating and provocative tales involving politics, piracy, and espionage that have influenced our world. How would be our world today if nothing of the following would not happened in the way that happened?
By 1850, rubber-coated wheels were rolling, marking the onset of mass tire consumption with the rise of automobiles in the US and Europe. Brazil's rubber boom to produce wheels followed, with Bolivian territory Acre's conquest fueling global dominance. However, Henry Wickham's clandestine seed plundering to Kew Gardens changed everything, sealing the fate of Amazonian prosperity and the curse of the whole world forever.
Before this ship departs
👋 I'd like to invite you to explore my Substack profile, where you'll discover my other writings on several topics available for you to get lost in. These other articles may resonate with you as much as they do with me, because, you know, we're a perfect match. I write, and you read—let's continue this journey together. 🚢
Henry Wickham and the Seeds of Fortune
Around 1770, Joseph Priestley noted rubber's ability to erase pencil marks, while seventy years later, Charles Goodyear and Englishman Hancock pioneered rubber vulcanization, enhancing its durability and resilience to temperature fluctuations. By 1850, rubber-coated vehicle wheels were in use, coinciding with the emergence of the automobile industry in the US and Europe, leading to a surge in tire consumption. This surge catapulted global rubber demand, with Brazil benefiting significantly; by 1890, rubber accounted for a tenth of its export revenue, growing to 40 percent within two decades, rivaling coffee sales at their zenith around 1910. The bulk of this rubber production stemmed from Brazil's acquisition of the Acre territory following a swift military campaign against Bolivia.
Following the conquest of Acre, Brazil gained control over the majority of the world's rubber reserves, leading to a peak in international prices and an era of seemingly endless prosperity. However, this prosperity was not shared by the rubber tappers, who diligently embarked on their daily ritual of climbing the towering hevea brasiliensis trees at dawn. Armed with containers strapped to their backs, they skillfully made incisions in the trunk and thick branches, collecting the milky latex that flowed into jars within hours. At night, these collected latex was transformed into flat rubber disks and stored at the property's administration office. The unmistakable scent of rubber permeated the city of Manaus, the global hub of the rubber trade, which witnessed a remarkable transformation from a modest town of five thousand inhabitants in 1849 to a bustling city of seventy thousand within a mere fifty years. In Manaus, the rubber magnates erected opulent mansions adorned with exotic woods from the Orient, Portuguese tiles, Carrara marble columns, and exquisite French cabinetry. These nouveau-riche denizens of the jungle imported the finest delicacies from Rio de Janeiro, patronized Europe's premier tailors for their attire, and sent their offspring to prestigious English schools, epitomizing a lifestyle of luxury and excess amidst the Amazonian wilderness.
The Teatro Amazonas, a baroque marvel of questionable taste, stood as the ultimate emblem of the feverish prosperity of the early 20th century. On its grand opening night, tenor Caruso serenaded the people of Manaus, his voice echoing through the jungle after a perilous journey up the river, all in exchange for a princely sum. Meanwhile, Pavlova, scheduled to dance, found herself unable to traverse beyond the city of Belém, sending her regrets from afar.
However, in 1913, Brazilian rubber faced an abrupt collapse. The global price, once soaring to twelve shillings three years prior, plummeted to a mere quarter. By 1900, the East had exported a meager four tons of rubber; yet, in 1914, the plantations of Ceylon and Malaya inundated the world market with over seventy thousand tons, their exports nearing four hundred thousand tons five years later. Consequently, by 1919, Brazil, which once monopolized the rubber trade, could only fulfill one-eighth of the world's demand. Fast forward half a century, and Brazil now imports over half of the rubber it requires, marking a stark reversal of fortunes.
What occurred?
In 1873, Henry Wickham, an Englishman with rubber forests along the Tapajós River (a significant tributary of the Brazilian Amazon River), known for his botanical interests, dispatched sketches and leaves of the rubber tree to Sir Joseph Dalton Hooker, then director of Kew Gardens in London. Wickham was tasked with acquiring a substantial quantity of seeds, found within the fruit of the hevea brasiliensis. Evading Brazil's stringent penalties for seed exportation, which deemed natural resources invaluable, Wickham faced the challenge of circumventing thorough ship inspections. Remarkably, an Inman Line vessel, typically bound for the North Atlantic, navigated two thousand kilometers deeper into Brazil than customary. Upon its return, Wickham emerged among its crew, having carefully selected prime seeds, dried fruit in indigenous villages, and safeguarded them in a sealed cabin enveloped in banana leaves, suspended by ropes to thwart rats. The remainder of the ship lay empty. Welcoming authorities to a lavish banquet in Belém do Pará, at the river's mouth, Wickham completed his audacious mission.
The eccentric Englishman, renowned for his orchid collection across the Amazon, revealed that he transported a series of rare orchid bulbs for Kew Gardens, under the orders of the King of England. Citing their delicate nature, he safeguarded them in an airtight cabinet at a precise temperature, fearing that exposure would ruin the flowers. Consequently, the seeds arrived intact at the docks of Liverpool.
Four decades later, British dominance flooded the global market with Malayan rubber, cultivated from green sprouts nurtured at Kew. These methodical Asian plantations swiftly eclipsed Brazil's extractive methods, signaling the demise of Amazonian prosperity. The jungle reclaimed its territory as fortune seekers dispersed, leaving behind a dismantled luxury encampment. Only the workers, imported from distant lands to fuel another's ambition, persevered. Brazil, a bystander in the true rubber trade, merely responded to global demand without engaging in its financial, marketing, industrial, or distribution aspects. The siren of opportunity fell silent until World War II, when Brazilian Amazon rubber experienced a brief resurgence. With the Japanese occupation of Malaya, Allied powers urgently sought rubber, stirring the Peruvian jungle and reigniting the "rubber battle" among Northeastern peasants.
Following the conflict, a congressional complaint revealed fifty thousand casualties, succumbing to disease and starvation, their bodies left to decay amidst the rubber trees.
The End
🤔
It's essential to reflect on the profound transformations that unfolded within the Amazonian rubber trade. The audacious actions of Henry Wickham, who undertook a daring mission to smuggle rubber seeds, marked a pivotal moment that reshaped the entire industry and our current world. Through his clandestine efforts, the dynamics of rubber cultivation shifted dramatically, ultimately leading to a significant increase in British influence within the trade.
But let's not forget about the people who worked hard to tap the rubber trees. They didn't get much from it, even though they worked so hard. They're like the forgotten heroes of the Amazon. Their story reminds that progress often comes at a cost.
In essence, the tale of the Amazonian rubber trade embodies a multifaceted narrative of ambition, exploitation, and resilience. It serves as a testament to the intricate interplay between progress and its inherent costs, urging us to reflect on the broader implications of our actions as we navigate the ever-changing currents of history.
See you next time,
Very fascinating story! Good to remember the lives of those that have made the trade possible in the first place. Their skills were in high demand one day and completely disregarded few years later.
The modus operandi of the British seems to emerge as a quite unethical pattern of behaviour already seen with tea plantations in Asia. The victim in that case was China's millennial experience with tea cultivation, that British stole and copied to create enormous productions in India.
Would be great to know more about the orchids and if there was any trade related stories around those. Kew Gardens still has a wide collection of orchids to these days!