Part 4 (1/2)
And now, last of all the Indian owners of the wonderful gem, we come to Dhuleep Singh, the infant son of Runjeet the Lion. It has been said that the Koh-i-nur belonged ever to the strong; it was scarcely probable therefore that it would remain for any length of time in the feeble grasp of this child. Indeed, his elevation upon the throne of Lah.o.r.e was a signal for all sorts of intrigues and machinations on the part both of those who were in power and wished to keep it, and of those who were out of power but wished to acquire it.
In the midst of all this turmoil a new and hardier race appears upon the scene. Lord Dalhousie annexes Lah.o.r.e, and the English flag floats for the first time over the Koh-i-nur.
In March, 1849, the king of Lah.o.r.e was formally deposed. The scene was short and business-like, very different from the stately Oriental silence between Runjeet Singh and Shah Shuja on the occasion of the last change of allegiance made by the fickle diamond. A crowd of natives, without arms or jewels, a few English officers, a man reading the proclamation in Hindustani, Persian and English, the boy-king affixing his seal to the paper with careless haste--that was all. The ancient kingdom of the Five Rivers ceased to exist, and its last king became an English gentleman with a large income.
As a token of his submission, the deposed prince was to send the Koh-i-nur to the Queen of England. This was accordingly done, and the imperial gem of India pa.s.sed to the crown of England, thus once more vindicating its traditionary character. Again it has pa.s.sed from the weak to the strong, from the conquered to the conqueror, but we may hope that it has left behind it in India all those baleful influences with which it has been credited.
When it came to England in 1850 the Koh-i-nur was distinctly an Indian stone. It had a large flat top, irregular sides, and a mult.i.tude of tiny facets, besides which there were three distinct flaws. It was, moreover, lacking in light; being scarcely more brilliant than a piece of gray crystal.
Yet, notwithstanding all these defects, it was a deplorable want of taste and of historic sympathy which dictated the re-cutting of this unique gem. Professor King, an unimpeachable authority on diamonds and the proper mode of treating them, says with reference to this stone:
”As a specimen of a gigantic diamond whose native weight and form had been as little as possible interfered with by art, it stood without rival, save the Orloff, in Europe. As it is, in the place of the most ancient gem in the history of the world, older even than the Tables of the Law, and the Breast Plate of Aaron, supposing them still to exist, we get a bad shaped, because unavoidably too shallow, modern brilliant; a mere lady's bauble of but second water, for it has a greyish tinge, and besides this, inferior in weight to several, being now reduced to one hundred and two and one half carats.”
The operation of re-cutting the Koh-i-nur was a very delicate and dangerous one. A special engine and mill had to be erected for it and a special workman, Mr. Woorsanger, was brought for it from Amsterdam. The work was executed in the atelier of the Crown Jewels and superintended by the Garrard brothers. Much interest was excited by the process and many people of distinction visited the workshop. One of these visitors asked Mr. Garrard what he would do, supposing that the Koh-i-nur should fly to pieces during the cutting--a contingency that some had feared likely. Mr. Garrard answered: ”I would take my name-plate off the door and bolt.”
The Prince Consort placed the diamond on the mill, and the Duke of Wellington gave a turn to the wheel. Thus launched, the work went on steadily, and at the end of thirty-eight days Mr. Woorsanger handed the new brilliant to his superiors.
The cutting of the Regent took two years by the old handmill process, and it had no deep flaws to eradicate, as was the case with the Koh-i-nur. To grind out these flaws the wheel made no less than three thousand revolutions per minute.
The Koh-i-nur still retains its Oriental name, though it has so unfortunately been forced to abandon its Oriental shape. It is now set in a brooch which the Queen wears upon all state occasions. It is kept at Windsor, so as to be at hand when wanted, and considerable interest in high quarters is required to get a sight of it. An exact model of it reposes in the jewel case of the Tower, alongside of the Crown, in order to gratify the curiosity of Her Majesty's subjects.
V.
THE FRENCH BLUE.
The diamond variously known as the ”French Blue,” or the ”Tavernier Blue,” has had a singular destiny.
Smaller by nearly eighty carats than the Orloff, and younger by three centuries than the Koh-i-nur, it is in some ways as remarkable as either of those famous stones. So far as is known, it was never the wors.h.i.+ped orb of an idol, nor the hardly-less wors.h.i.+ped bauble of an Eastern prince. Wars were not waged for it, nor were murders committed to obtain its possession. Indeed, its quaint commercial _debut_ into history is somewhat tame, as is also its uneventful life of a century and a half in the treasure-chambers of the Crown of France. In fact, were it not for its strange color, its strange loss and its yet stranger recovery, the French Blue would scarcely deserve a place among these ”Stories about Famous Precious Stones.”
Jean Baptiste Tavernier is a name familiar to everyone who has studied the history of precious stones. He was the son of an Antwerp geographer settled in Paris, and early in life he evinced an ardent love of travel.
Born in 1605, he had at the age of twenty-two traveled over most of Europe, and was acquainted with most European languages. In his own account of his travels he speaks entertainingly of the various reasons which at different times prompted him to journey. Having entered the service of the Duke of Mantua as captain of a company of soldiers, he attended that prince during the siege of Mantua. He was struck by two bullets which, though inflicting a troublesome wound, failed to kill him--thanks to the excellent temper of his cuira.s.s; whereupon he observes that ”he found a longer stay at Mantua did not agree with his desire to travel.” He made his way to the East carrying with him a vast quant.i.ty of cinque-cento[E] enamel work and jewelry, which he sold to the Asiatic sovereigns, and bringing back a number of precious stones which he sold to the kings of Europe. Jean Baptiste Tavernier was, in fact, a sort of peddler among princes.
[E] During the visit of the Prince of Wales to India a few years ago it was observed that some curious old jewels of Italian make appeared at the gorgeous pageants which the native princes ordered for the benefit of their future Emperor. It is thought that these were heirlooms dating from Tavernier's time.
He made in all six journeys to India during the s.p.a.ce of forty years, and ama.s.sed great wealth. Although a Protestant, he was enn.o.bled by Louis XIV. on account of the services he had rendered to French commerce, and he thereupon bought the barony of Aubonne in Switzerland which he afterwards sold to Duquesne the great navigator.
Louis XIV. was one of his best customers and bought from him jewels and rich stuffs to the enormous amount of three millions of francs; about six hundred thousand dollars. It was on his return from his last voyage, namely in 1668, that Tavernier sold the Blue Diamond to Louis XIV.
Unfortunately he does not give any particulars of the purchase of this stone, which is singular as he was a very chatty writer and filled his book with a quant.i.ty of delightful little pa.s.sages beginning ”I remember once.” He describes at great length the Eastern manner of buying and selling diamonds. Their methods seems greatly to have impressed him, accustomed as he was to the noisy bartering of European markets.
He says:
”'Tis very pleasant to see the young children of the merchants (at the diamond mines) from the age of ten to sixteen years, who seat themselves upon a tree that lies in an open s.p.a.ce of the town (Raolconda, a diamond region near Golconda). Every one of them has his diamond-weight in a little bag hanging on one side and his purse with five or six hundred paG.o.ds in it. There they sit waiting for any one to come and sell them some diamonds. If any one brings them a stone they put it into the hand of the eldest boy among them who is, as it were, their chief; who looks upon it and after that gives it to him that is next him, by which means it goes from hand to hand till it returns back to him again, none of the rest speaking a word. After that he demands the price so as to buy it if possible, but if he buy it too dear it is upon his own account. In the evening the children compute what they have laid out; then they look upon the stones and separate them according to their water, their weight and their clearness. Then they bring them to the large merchants who have generally great parcels to match, and the profit is divided among the children equally. Only the chief among them has four per cent. more than the rest.”
It may have been from some such sedate children that Tavernier bought the Blue Diamond. At the same time he mentions the Coleroon mine as the only one which produces colored diamonds, from which we may infer that ”the Blue” hails from that locality. As Tavernier was well-known as a diamond-buyer who gave good prices, it is probable that he would get many proffers of stones from private persons. With regard to another large diamond which he bought in India, he has given a minute account of the transaction which may be taken as a fair sample of Asiatic bartering:
”One day towards evening a Banian badly dressed, who had nothing on but a cloth around his loins and a nasty kerchief on his head, saluted me civilly and came and sat down beside me. In that country (India) no heed is given to the clothes. A man with nothing but a dirty piece of calico around his body may all the same have a good lot of diamonds concealed. On my side, therefore, I was civil to the Banian and after he had been some time seated he asked me through my interpreter if I would buy some rubies. The interpreter said he must show them to me, whereupon he pulled a little rag from his waist-cloth in which were twenty ruby rings. I said they were too small a thing for me as I only sought for large stones.
Nevertheless, remembering that I had a commission from a lady in Ispahan to buy her a ruby ring for a hundred crowns, I bought one for four hundred francs. I knew well that it was worth only three hundred, but I chanced the other hundred in the belief that he had not come to me for that alone. Judging from his manner that he would gladly be alone with me and my interpreter in order to show me something better, I sent away my four servants to fetch some bread from the fortress. Being thus alone with the Banian, after much ado he took off his turban and untwisted his hair which was coiled around his head. Then I saw come from beneath his hair a sc.r.a.p of linen in which was wrapped up a diamond weighing forty-eight and a half carats, of beautiful water, in form of a carbuchon,[F] two thirds of the stone clear except a small patch on one side which seemed to penetrate the stone. The fourth quarter was all cracks and red spots. As I was examining the stone the Banian, seeing my close attention, said: 'Don't amuse yourself with looking at it now. You will see it to-morrow alone at your leisure.
When a quarter of the day is pa.s.sed,' 'tis thus they speak, 'you will find me outside the town, and if you want the stone you will bring me the money.' And he told me the sum he wanted for it. I did not fail to go to him and bring him the required sum, with the exception of two hundred paG.o.ds which I put aside, but which after a dispute I had to give him also. At my return to Surat I sold the stone to a Dutch captain out of whom I had an honest profit.”
[F] This is probably a misuse of the word, as ”carbuchons,” namely polished globules, are never made of diamonds; a rose is what was meant and one of Tavernier's editors made a mistake.