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Table of contents

AMULETS FROM COSTERS' BARROWS IN LONDON, ROME, AND NAPLES. (WITH PLATE III.)

Folk-Lore. Volume 20 – Number 1 (March, 1909). Collectanea: Amulets from Costers’ Barrows in London, Rome, and Naples (Read at Meeting, November 5th, 1908).

IT is a common idea that few traces of folk-beliefs can be found in great cities, but my own experience is that, at any rate for the seeker after amulets, there is no better hunting ground than the hawkers’ handbarrows in the poorest parts or slums of such dense aggregations of people as London, Rome, and Naples. In a visit to Italy last summer I obtained a large number of amulets used by the poorer people in Rome and Naples, and Fig. 9 (Plate III.) shows a group of purchases in these cities. The amulets were found, mixed with ex votos and modern religious medals and symbols, for sale, not to the visitor and curio-hunter who rarely invade the slums, but to the poor city dweller and to the peasant visiting the city. The first and third in the top row are metal wavy horns; the second is a tusk; the three in a vertical line on the extreme right and the one in the bottom left-hand corner are artificial horns cut from pearl shells; the largest object is an artificial horn cut from the lip of a conch shell; and the four remaining objects are two pincers of a crab of different sizes, a tooth, and the core of a goat’s horn. The general resemblance of these amulets to those shown in the upper part of the Plate is quite obvious, although the group in Fig. 8 was collected from the costers’ barrows in the poor man’s markets of London.
For many years I have been in touch with some of the London street dealers in unconsidered trifles, and I am much surprised to find how much they know as to the reasons for carrying certain amulets. Phallic symbols, such as the glass and cornelian drops in the bottom row in Fig. 8, are quite well understood, although their descriptions are somewhat crude. Pendants of tusks or of the canine teeth of some animal, such as the four shown in the top row in Fig. 8, are, I am told, largely bought as a protection by men who tend wild animals in shows etc. The middle object in the top row is a cornelian mounted in metal and worn by Jewesses as a charm against the evil eye, and the second row consists of a boot, two canine teeth, and a tusk. Any charm which is of uncertain use is invariably said to be “for luck.” Fossil belemnites and nodules of iron pyrites are always called “thunderbolts.”
I failed to trace any “thunderbolts” in Rome or Naples, but found tusks and teeth as pendants in great quantities, as well as phallic amulets in coral, shell, bone, and metal. The latter amulets are so common in London also that I am inclined to think that they are probably brought here by the numerous Neapolitans who seek to supply us with chestnuts in winter, ice-cream in summer, and music in both. In Naples such amulets are often seen in wear, and almost every shop for the poor has, hanging up, one or more evil-eye charms, such as a glove stuffed and with the two middle fingers and thumb stitched to the palm, so that the other fingers make the sign of the horns, or mano cornuto. The horns and such like are also bought for the horses and carts of the peasants, which are sometimes so bedecked with amulets as to look like small travelling museums. In Rome a typical cart amulet is a ram’s horn painted blue and with a little bell at its tip. In one of the poorest alleys of Rome, also, I met an itinerant seller of some sort of sweet stuff who had suspended, from the shoulder cord which supported his tray, the core of a goat’s horn, shown as the second object from the right in the top row of Fig. 9, as an evil-eye charm. Without any words, but with the Esperanto of half a franc, I acquired this specimen, and left him gazing after me with surprise; perhaps I was in his fancy a proper candidate for a lunatic asylum owing to my lavish expenditure.
E. LOVETT.

THE BIRTH OF THE OPAL

THE BIRTH OF THE OPAL. COPYRIGHT, 1886. JAQUES & MARCUS, JEWELERS, BROADWAY, COR. I7TH STREET, NEW-YORK.

The Sunbeam loved the Moonbeam,
And followed her low and high;
But the Moonbeam fled and hid her head,
She was so shy – so shy.

The Sunbeam wooed with passion, –
Oh, he was a lover bold,
And his heart was afire with mad desire,
For the Moonbeam pale and cold.

She fled like a dream before him,
Her hair was a shining sheen, –
And oh, that Fate would annihilate
The space that lay between !

Just as the Day lay panting
In the arms of the twilight dim,
The Sunbeam caught the one he sought,
And drew her close to him.

But out of his warm arms, startled
And stirred with Love’s first shock,
She sprang afraid, like a trembling maid,
And hid in the niche of a rock.

And the Sunbeam followed and found her,
And led her to Love’s own feast;
And they were wed on that rocky bed,
And the dying Day was their priest.

And lo! the beautiful Opal,
That rare and wondrous gem,
Where the moon and sun blend into one.
Was the child that was born to them.

THE BOOK OF THE PEARL. THE HISTORY, ART, SCIENCE, AND INDUSTRY OF THE QUEEN OF GEMS

THE BOOK OF THE PEARL. THE HISTORY, ART, SCIENCE, AND INDUSTRY OF THE QUEEN OF GEMS BY GEORGE FREDERICK KUNZ, A.M., Ph.D. AND CHARLES HUGH STEVENSON, LL.M., D.C.L. Orient pearls fit for a queen Will I give thy love to win, And a shell to keep them in. —_The Faithful Shepherdess (1611)_ NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1908
TO MARGARET, THE PEARL AS A SLIGHT MARK OF APPRECIATION BY THE AUTHORS OF HER FATHER’S GENEROUS ENCOURAGEMENT OF SCIENCE, ART, ENGINEERING, TECHNOLOGY, AND LITERATURE

INTRODUCTION
The preparation of this book has been a joint labor during the spare
moments of the two authors, whose time has been occupied with subjects
to which pearls are not wholly foreign—one as a gem expert, and the
other in the fisheries branch of the American government. But for the
views and expressions contained herein, they alone are personally
responsible, and do not represent or speak for any interest whatever.
For many years the writers have collected data on the subject of pearls,
and have accumulated all the obtainable literature, not only the easily
procurable books, but likewise manuscripts, copies of rare volumes,
original edicts, and legislative enactments, thousands of newspaper
clippings, and interesting illustrations, many of them unique, making
probably the largest single collection of data in existence on this
particular subject. It was deemed advisable to present the results of
these studies and observations in one harmonious volume, rather than in
two different publications. This publication is not a pioneer in an
untrodden field. As may be seen from the appended bibliography, during
the last two thousand years hundreds of persons have discussed
pearls—mystically, historically, poetically, and learnedly. Among the
older writers who stand out with special prominence in their respective
periods are the encyclopedist Pliny, in the first century A.D.; Oviedo
and Peter Martyr of the sixteenth century; the physician Anselmus De
Boot, and that observant traveler and prince of jewelers, Tavernier, in
the seventeenth century. It would be difficult to do justice to the many
writers of the nineteenth century and of the present time; but probably
most attention has been attracted by the writings of Hessling and Möbius
of Germany; Kelaart, Streeter, Herdman, and Hornell of Great Britain;
Filippi of Italy, and Seurat and Dubois of France. While the book is a
joint work in the sense that each writer has contributed material to all
of the chapters and has critically examined and approved the entire
work, the senior author has more closely applied himself to the latter
half of the text, covering antiquity values, commerce, wearing
manipulation, treatment, famous collections, aboriginal use, and the
illustrations, while the junior author has attended to the earlier half
of the book, with reference to history, origin, sources, fisheries,
culture, mystical properties, and the literature of the pearl.

The senior author has had exceptionally favorable opportunities to
examine the precious objects contained in the various imperial and royal
treasuries. Through the courtesy of the late Count Sipuigine, Court
Chamberlain, and of the late General Philamanoff, custodian of the
Ourejena Palata, he was permitted to critically examine the Russian
crown jewels in the Summer Palace on the Neva, and in the Palata in the
Kremlin, at Moscow, he examined the crowns and jewels of all the early
czars. Through the courtesy of Baron von Theile, he was permitted to
inspect carefully and in detail the wonderful jewels of the Austrian
crown, which are beautifully ordered and arranged. The English and Saxon
crown jewels were also seen under favorable conditions which permitted
detailed examination, and the jewel collections of almost all the
principal museums of Europe and America were carefully studied. As
regards the literature of the subject, the senior author has gathered
together the largest known existing collection of works treating of
pearls and precious stones.

In covering so comprehensive a subject, many obligations have been
incurred from individuals and officials, to whose courtesy and
assistance is due much of the interest of this work. To list all of
these is impossible, yet it would be ungrateful not to note the
following: her Majesty Queen Margherita of Italy; his Royal Highness the
Gaikwar of Baroda; to H. R. H. le Prince Ruprecht of Bavaria, of Munich;
to the late Prince Sipuigine, then chamberlain of the Russian Imperial
Appanages; to Sir Edward Robert Pearce Edgcumbe for data relative to
fisheries of East Africa; Dr. H. C. Bumpus, director of the American
Museum of Natural History, New York, for many courtesies in regard to
materials and illustrations; Sir Caspar Purdon Clarke, director, Dr.
Edward Robinson, assistant director, J. H. Buck, curator of Metal-work,
and A. G. St. M. D’Hervilly, assistant curator of Paintings, all of the
Metropolitan Museum of Art, for numerous courtesies; Archer M.
Huntington, founder of the Hispanic Society and Museum in New York City;
Dr. Bashford Dean, Prof. Friedrich Hirth, Chinese professor, Dr.
Berthold Laufer, Prof. A. V. Williams Jackson, professor of Indo-Iranian
languages, and Prof. M. H. Saville, all of Columbia University, New York
City; J. Pierpont Morgan, for the right to publish the illustration of
Ashburnham missal; Dr. W. Hayes Ward, Assyriologist; Dr. Charles S.
Braddock, formerly Chief of Medical Inspection for the King of Siam;
Robert Hoe, for the two plates of unique Persian illustrations from his
manuscripts; Edmund Russell, for East Indian material; F. Cunliffe-Owen,
the author of diplomatic subjects; Ten Broeck Morse; Walter Joslyn;
Stansbury Hagar; Henri de Morgan, explorer; Dr. Nathaniel L. Britton,
director New York Botanical Garden, J. H. Lawles, and Ludwig Stross, for
many courtesies; Miss M. de Barril and Miss Belle da Costa Greene, all
of New York; Dr. Stewart W. Culin, of the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and
Sciences; the Contessa Casa Cortez, for Peruvian information, of
Brooklyn; Dr. Charles B. Davenport, of the Carnegie Institution
Laboratory, Cold Spring Harbor; Arthur C. Parker, archæologist, State
Museum, Albany, N. Y.; A. S. Clark, antiquarian, Peekskill, N. Y.; Dr.
Richard Rathbun, assistant secretary, Dr. Cyrus Adler, curator, Dr. Otis
S. Mason, curator of Ethnology, all of the Smithsonian Institution; Dr.
S. W. Stratton, chief of the Bureau of Standards; Miss E. R. Scidmore;
Gilbert H. Grosvenor, editor, National Geographic Magazine; Hon. William
Eleroy Curtis; his Excellency Enrique C. Creel, Embajador de Mexico, and
James T. Archbold, war correspondent, all of Washington, D. C.; Prof. W.
P. Wilson, director Philadelphia Commercial Museum, Clarence B. Moore,
Academy of Natural Sciences, and T. Louis Comparette, curator Numismatic
Collection, U. S. Mint, all of Philadelphia; Prof. Henry Montgomery,
University of Toronto, Toronto, Canada; Dr. Warren K. Moorehead,
archæologist, Andover, Mass.; H. D. Story, and Theo. M. Davis, curators
of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Mass.; Miss Mathilde Laigle
of Wellesley College; Prof. F. W. Putnam and Alfred M. Tozzer, Peabody
Museum of Archæology, Cambridge, Mass.; Prof. Edward S. Morse, Salem,
Mass.; Dr. Hiram Bingham, Yale University; W. E. Frost, Providence, R.
I.; Dr. Edgar J. Banks, University of Chicago, Chicago, Ill.; Hon. F. J.
V. Skiff, director, for several photographs of museum material, and Dr.
George A. Dorsey, curator of Anthropology of the Field Columbian Museum;
Dr. A. R. Crook, curator of the Museum of Natural History, Springfield,
Ill.; Richard Hermann, director Hermann Museum, Dubuque, Ia.; Charles
Russell Orcutt, San Diego, Cal.; David I. Bushnell, St. Louis, Mo.; Dr.
J. H. Stanton, Prairie du Chien, Wis.; Joe Gassett, Clinton, Tenn.;
Prof. Wm. C. Mills, University of Ohio, Columbus, O., for material
covering the new Ohio mound discoveries; Mrs. Marie Robinson Wright,
author and South American traveler, New York City; Miss Helen Woolley of
Judson College, Alabama; Prof. Dr. Eugene Hussak, Rio Janeiro; Hon.
George E. Anderson, Consul General of the United States, Rio de Janeiro,
Brazil; Señor L. E. Bonilla, Consul General of Colombia; Madam Zelia
Nuttall, Coyoacan, Mexico; Prof. Waldstein, University of Cambridge,
Cambridge, England; Dr. O. F. Bell, assistant keeper Ashmolean Museum,
Oxford; Dr. Stephen W. Bushell, Chinese authority; Lady Christopher
Johnston, Dr. William F. Petrie, University College, Dr. Charles
Hercules Read, director of the department of Archæology, British Museum,
for illustrations and data; Cyril Davenport, antiquarian writer of the
British Museum, for the illustration of the English crown, and crown
information; to Sir John Evans, late veteran archæologist and writer;
Thomas Tyrer, chemist, W. Talbot Ready, A. W. Feaveryear, E. Alfred
Jones, author on metal-work, Edwin W. Streeter, all of London, England;
Prof. H. P. Blackmore, curator Blackmore Museum, Salisbury, England; Dr.
Thos. Gann, Harrogate, England; Prof. Arthur E. Shipley, Cambridge,
England; Dr. Wilfred Grenfell, Labrador; T. W. Lyster, librarian of the
National Library of Ireland, Prof. R. F. Scharff, director of the
National Museum of Ireland, Dublin, W. Forbes Hourie, all of Ireland;
Mr. James Hornell, Dr. W. A. Herdmann, all on information concerning the
Ceylon fisheries; Prof. James M. Milne, Belfast, Ireland; David
MacGregor, Perth, Scotland; Joseph Baer & Co., Frankfurt, Germany; Herrn
C. W. Kesseller, Idar, Germany; Prof. Dr. Carl Sapper, University of
Tübingen, Germany; Geheimrath Prof. Dr. Max Bauer, University of
Marburg, Germany; Herrn Prof. Dr. Hofer, director Biologische
Versuchsstation, Munich; Herrn Ernst Gideon Bek, Pforzheim, Germany;
Hon. Albert H. Michelsen, American Consul at Turin; Sabbatino De
Angelis, of Naples, Italy; Mons. Alphonse Falco, of the Chambre
Syndicale Pierres Précieuses of Paris; Prof. A. Lacroix, Musée Histoire
Naturale, Paris; Mons. Georges Pellisier, Paris; Sr. Gaston J. Vives, La
Paz, Mexico; Prof. R. Dubois, Faculté des Sciences, University of Lyons,
France; Prof. P. Candias, director of the National Museum, Athens,
Greece; Prof. G. A. F. Molengraaff, University of Delft, Holland; the
late Prof. Dr. Furtwängler of Munich; Dr. Otto Leiner, Custus
Landes-Museum at Constanz, Baden; Herrn Dr. A. B. Meyer, Herrn Carl
Marfels, Berlin; Prof. Dr. H. Schumacher, University of Bonn; Geheimrath
C. F. Hintze, Breslau; Herrn R. Friedlaender & Sohn, Berlin; Herrn
Reg.-Rath Dr. W. von Seidlitz, Dresden; Dr. R. Jacobi, director König
Zoologichen Museum, Dresden, Germany; his Excellency Dr. Szalaz,
director Hungarian National Museum; Dr. S. Radischi, director National
Industrial Museum of Budapest; and to Herrn A. B. Bachrach, Budapest,
Hungary; Frau Melanie Glazer, of Prague, and Herrn V. Fric, Prague,
Bohemia; Herrn Prof. Dr. F. Heger, Custus Imperial Archæological
Collection, Vienna; Herrn H. von Willer and Herrn Max Zirner, of Vienna;
Herrn Leopold Weininger, the artisan goldsmith of Austria, for many
courtesies; Prof. W. Vernadskij, University of Moscow; Mons. C. Faberje,
Joaillier de la Cour, St. Petersburg, Russia; his Excellency Baron P.
Meyerdorff, assistant director, Musée des Antiques, Ermitage Impériale,
St. Petersburg, for important data and illustrations; his Excellency N.
J. Moore, Premier, Western Australia; Dr. K. Van Dort, engineer of
Bankok, Siam; Dr. J. Henry Burkill, of the India Museum, Calcutta,
India; Alphaeus E. Williams, manager of the De Beers Mine, Kimberley;
Capt. E. L. Steever, District Governor of Jolo, Philippine Islands; Dr.
T. Nishikawa, Zoölogical Institute; K. Mikimoto, both of Tokio, Japan;
Dr. S. M. Zwemer of Bahrein, Persian Gulf; Mr. Hugh Millman of Thursday
Island, Australia; Julius D. Dreher, American Consul at Tahiti, Society
Islands; and not least, by any means, the uniform promptness and
completeness with which the officials of the British Colonial Service
have responded to the many inquiries which the writers have addressed to
them.
THE AUTHORS.
September, 1908.

I PEARLS AMONG THE ANCIENTS
The richest merchandise of all, and the most soveraigne commoditie throughout the whole world, are these pearles. PLINY, _Historia naturalis_.
_Lib._ IX, c. 35.

Perfected by nature and requiring no art to enhance their beauty, pearls
were naturally the earliest gems known to prehistoric man. Probably the
members of some fish-eating tribe—maybe of the coast of India or
bordering an Asiatic river—while opening mollusks for food, were
attracted by their luster. And as man’s estimation of beauty developed,
he found in them the means of satisfying that fondness for personal
decoration so characteristic of half-naked savages, which has its
counterpart amid the wealth and fashion of the present day.

Pearls seem to be peculiarly suggestive of oriental luxury and
magnificence. It is in the East that they have been especially loved,
enhancing the charms of Asiatic beauty and adding splendor to barbaric
courts celebrated for their display of costume. From their possession of
the rich pearl resources it is natural that the people of India and of
Persia should have early found beauty and value in these jewels, and
should have been among the first to collect them in large quantities.
And no oriental divinity, no object of veneration has been without this
ornament; no poetical production has lacked this symbol of purity and
chastity.

In a personal memorandum, Dr. A. V. Williams Jackson, professor of
Indo-Iranian languages in Columbia University, states that it is
generally supposed that the Vedas, the oldest sacred books of the
Brahmans, contain several allusions to pearl decorations a millennium or
more before the Christian era, as the word _krisana_ and its
derivatives—which occur a half dozen times in the Rigveda, the oldest of
the Vedas—are generally translated as signifying “pearl.” Even if this
interpretation of the term be called into question on the ground that
the Hindus of the Panjab were not well acquainted with the sea, there
can be little or no doubt that the Atharvaveda, at least five hundred
years before the Christian era, alludes to an amulet made of pearls and
used as a sort of talisman in a hymn[1] of magic formulas.

Those two great epics of ancient India, the Ramayana and the
Mahabharata, refer to pearls. The Ramayana speaks of a necklace of
twenty-seven pearls, and has pearl drillers to accompany a great
military expedition.[2] An old myth recounts the offerings made by the
elements as gifts worthy of the deity: the air offered the rainbow, the
fire a meteor, the earth a ruby, and the sea a pearl. The rainbow formed
a halo about the god, the meteor served as a lamp, the ruby decorated
the forehead, and the pearl was worn upon the heart.

The literature of Hinduism frequently associates the pearl with Krishna,
the eighth avatar or incarnation of Vishnu, the most popular god of
Hindu worship. One legend credits its discovery to the adorable Krishna,
who drew it from the depths of the sea to adorn his daughter Pandaïa on
her nuptial day. Another version makes the pearl a trophy of the victory
of Krishna over the monster Pankagna, and it was used by the victor as a
decoration for his bride.

In the classic period of Sanskrit literature, about the first century of
the Christian era, there were abundant references to pearls, generally
called _mukta_ (literally “the pure”); and there are dozens of words for
pearl necklaces, circlets, strings, and ornamental festoons,
particularly in the dramas of Kalidasa—the Hindu Shakspere, who lived
about the third century A.D.—and of his successors.

In the Mahavansa and the Dipavansa, the ancient chronicle histories of
Ceylon in the Pali language, are several early Cingalese records of
pearl production and estimation.[3] The Mahavansa lists pearls among the
native products sent from Ceylon about 550 B.C., King Wijayo sending his
father-in-law gifts of pearls and chanks to the value of two lacs of
rupees; and notes that about 300 B.C., several varieties of Ceylon
pearls were carried as presents by an embassy to India.

In the ancient civilization of China, pearls were likewise esteemed;
this is evidenced by the frequent mention of them in traditional
history, their employment in the veneration of idols, and as tribute by
foreign princes to the emperor. One of the very earliest of books, the
Shu King (dating from about 2350–625 B.C.), notes that, in the
twenty-third century B.C., Yü received as tribute oyster pearls from the
river Hwai, and from the province of King Kau he received “strings of
pearls that were not quite round.”[4] That ancient Chinese dictionary,
the Nh’ya, originating thirty centuries ago, speaks of them as precious
jewels found in the province of Shen-si on the western frontier.

Many fantastic theories regarding pearls are to be found in ancient
Chinese literature. Some writers credited them as originating in the
brain of the fabled dragon; others noted that they were especially
abundant during the reign of illustrious emperors, and they were used as
amulets and charms against fire and other disasters. Curious allusions
were made to pearls so brilliant that they were visible at a distance of
nearly a thousand yards, or that rice could be cooked by the light from
them. And one found about the beginning of the Christian era, near
Yangchow-fu, in the province of Kiang-su, was reported so lustrous as to
be visible in the dark at a distance of three miles.

In Persia, the popularity of pearls seems to date from a very early
period. Professor Jackson states that if they are not mentioned in the
extant fragments of the ancient Zoroastrian literature, the Avesta and
the Pahlavi, or by the Middle Persian books from the seventh century
B.C. to the ninth century A.D., it is probably a mere accident, due to
the character of the work or to the fragmentary condition of the
literature; for pearls were well known during that entire period, and
seem to be indicated in extant sculptures. The coin and the gem
portraits of Persian queens commonly show ear-pendants of these. The
remains of a magnificent necklace of pearls and other gems were recently
found by J. de Morgan in the sarcophagus of an Achæmenid princess
exhumed at Susa or Shushan, the winter residence of the kings of Persia.
This necklace, perhaps the most ancient pearl ornament still in
existence, dates certainly from not later than the fourth century B.C.,
and is now preserved in the Persian Gallery of the Louvre.[5] Even if we
had no other evidence, it would be natural to assume that the knowledge
of pearls was as wide-spread among the Iranians in antiquity as it was
among the Hindus, since the Persian Gulf, like the Indian Ocean, has
been famous for its fisheries from ancient times.

In the ruins of Babylon no pearls have been found; indeed, it would be
surprising if they could survive for so many ages in the relatively
moist soil which contains much saltpeter. Inlays of mother-of-pearl and
decorations of this material have been secured from the ruins of
Bismaya, which Dr. Edgar J. Banks refers to about 4500 B.C.

There is likewise little evidence that pearls were extensively employed
by the ancient Assyrians, notwithstanding that excavations at Nineveh
and Nimrud have furnished much information regarding their ornaments;
and the collars, bracelets, sword-hilts, etc., wrought in gold and
ornamented with gems, show that the jewelers’ art had made much
progress. This is not wholly trustworthy as determining the relative
abundance; for being of organic or non-mineral origin, pearls would not
have survived the burial for thousands of years so well as the crystal
gems. An inscription on the Nineveh Obelisk, which states, according to
Sir Henry Rawlinson, that in the ninth year of his reign Temenbar
received, as “tribute of the kings of the Chaldees, gold, silver, gems,
and pearls,”[6] shows that the sea-born gems were highly valued there.

The mother-of-pearl shell was in use as an ornament in ancient Egypt
certainly as early as the sixth dynasty (_circa_ 3200 B.C.), the period
of the Tanis Sphinx. In a recent letter from Luxor, where he is studying
the ruins of ancient Thebes, Dr. James T. Dennis states that he has
found several of these shells bearing cartouches of that period; and in
the “pan-bearing graves” of the twelfth dynasty (2500 B.C.), the shell
occurred not only complete, but cut in roughly circular or oblong
angular blocks and strung on chains with beads of carnelian, pottery,
etc.

So far as can be determined from the representations of ancient Egyptian
costumes, pearls do not seem to have been employed to any great extent
in their decoration. The necklaces, earrings, and other jewels found in
the tombs, which are composed largely of gold set with crystal gems,
contain the remains of a few pearls, but give no indication that they
were numerous. In fact, no evidence exists that they were used
extensively before the Persian conquest in the fifth century B.C.; and
probably it was not until the time of the Ptolemies that there began the
lavish abundance which characterized the court of Alexandria at the
height of her power.

The authorities differ in regard to the mention of pearls in ancient
Hebrew literature; although in the Authorized Version of the Old
Testament, this significance has been given to the word _gabîsh_ in Job
xxviii. 18, where the value of wisdom is contrasted with that of
_gabîsh_. Some writers claim that this word refers to rock crystal.
Other authorities are of the opinion that the word _peninim_ in Lam. iv.
7, which has been translated as “rubies,” actually signifies pearls. In
Gen. ii. 12, Prof. Paul Haupt has proposed to render _shoham_ stones by
pearls, since the Hebrew word translated “onyx,” if connected with the
Assyrian _sându_, might mean “the gray gem.” It does not appear that
they entered into the decorations of the Tabernacle and the Temple, or
were largely employed in the paraphernalia of the synagogue.

In the New Testament, however, there are numerous references to the
estimation in which pearls were held. In his teachings, Christ
repeatedly referred to them as typifying something most precious: “The
kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls:
who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that
he had, and bought it” (Matt. xiii. 45, 46); and in “casting pearls
before swine,” in that great Sermon on the Mount (Matt. vii. 6). In
picturing the glories of the Heavenly City, St. John made the twelve
gates of pearls (Rev. xxi. 21); and what could better serve as portals
through the walls of precious stones?

In the Talmud, pearls are frequently mentioned, and usually as
signifying something beautiful or very costly, as “a pearl that is worth
thousands of zuzim” (Baba Batra, 146a); a “pearl that has no price”
(Yerushalmi, ix. 12d); the coats which God made for Adam and Eve were
“as beautiful as pearls” (Gen. R. xx. 12), and the manna was “as white
as a pearl” (Yoma, 75a). Their purchase formed one of the exceptions to
the law of _Ona’ah_ (overcharge), for the reason that two matched pearls
greatly exceeded the value of each one separately (Baba Mezi’a, iv. 8).

The high value attached to pearls by the ancient Hebrews is illustrated
by a beautiful Rabbinical story in which only one object in nature is
ranked above them. On approaching Egypt, Abraham hid Sarah in a chest,
that foreign eyes might not behold her beauty. When he reached the place
for paying custom dues, the collectors said, “Pay us the custom”; and he
replied, “I will pay your custom.” They said to him, “Thou carriest
clothes”; and he stated, “I will pay for clothes.” Then they said to
him, “Thou carriest gold”; and he answered, “I will pay for gold.” On
this they said to him, “Surely thou bearest the finest silk”; and he
replied, “I will pay custom for the finest silk.” Then said they, “Truly
it must be pearls that thou takest with thee”; and he answered, “I will
pay for pearls.” Seeing that they could name nothing of value for which
the patriarch was not willing to pay custom, they said, “It cannot be
but that thou open the box and let us see what is within.” So the chest
was opened, and the land was illumined by the luster of Sarah’s
beauty.[7]

The love which the early Arabs bore to pearls is evidenced by the
references to them in the Koran, and especially the figurative
description given of Paradise. The stones are pearls and jacinths; the
fruits of the trees are pearls and emeralds; and each person admitted to
the delights of the celestial kingdom is provided with a tent of pearls,
jacinths and emeralds; is crowned with pearls of incomparable luster,
and is attended by beautiful maidens resembling hidden pearls.[8]

The estimation of pearls among the art-loving Greeks may be traced to
the time of Homer, who appears to have alluded to them under the name
τρίγληνα (triple drops or beads) in his description of Juno; in the
Iliad, XIV, 183:
In three bright drops,
Her glittering gems suspended from her ears.
and in the Odyssey, XVIII, 298:
Earrings bright
With triple drops that cast a trembling light.

Classical designs of Juno usually show the three pear-shaped pearls
pendent from her ears. The ancient Greeks probably obtained their pearls
from the East through the medium of Phenician traders, and a survival of
the word τρίγληνα seems to exist in the Welsh _glain_ (bead), the name
having been carried to Britain by the same traders, who exchanged
textiles, glass beads, etc., for tin and salt.

The Persian wars in the fifth century B.C., doubtless extended the
acquaintance which the Greeks had with pearls, as well as with other
oriental products, and increased their popularity. One of the earliest
of the Greek writers to mention pearls specifically appears to have been
Theophrastus (372–287 B.C.), the disciple and successor of Aristotle,
who referred to them under the name μαργαρίτης (_margarites_), probably
derived from some oriental word like the Sanskrit _maracata_ or the
Persian _mirwareed_. He stated that pearls were produced by shell-fish
resembling the _pinna_, only smaller, and were used in making necklaces
of great value. In Pliny’s “Historia naturalis,” that great storehouse
of classical learning, reference is made to many other writers—mostly
Greeks—who treated of gems; but virtually all of these writings have
disappeared, except fragments from Theophrastus, Chares of Mytilene, and
Isidorus of Charace.

From Greece admiration for pearls quickly extended to Rome, where they
were known under the Greek word _margaritæ_. However, a more common name
for this gem in Rome was _unio_, which Pliny explained by saying that
each pearl was unique and unlike any other one. The conclusion of the
historian Ammianus Marcellinus (330–395 A.D.), that it was because each
one was found singly in a shell,[9] seems scarcely correct. Claude de
Saumaise, the French classical scholar, thought that the common name for
an onion was transferred to the pearl, owing to its laminated
construction.[10] According to Pliny, the Romans used the word _unio_ to
distinguish a large perfect pearl from the smaller and less attractive
ones, which were called _margaritæ_.[11]

It was not until the Mithridatic Wars (88–63 B.C.) and the conquests by
Pompey that pearls were very abundant and popular in Rome, the great
treasures of the East enriching the victorious army and through it the
aristocracy of the republic. In those greatest spectacular functions the
world has ever known—the triumphal processions of the conquering
Romans—pearls had a prominent part. Pliny records that in great Pompey’s
triumphal procession in 61 B.C. were borne thirty-three crowns of pearls
and numerous pearl ornaments, including a portrait of the victor, and a
shrine dedicated to the muses, adorned with the same gems.[12]

The luxuries of Mithridates, the treasures of Alexandria, the riches of
the Orient were poured into the lap of victory-fattened Rome. From that
time the pearl reigned supreme, not only in the enormous prices given
for single specimens, but also in the great abundance in possession of
the degenerate descendants of the victorious Romans. The interior of the
temple of Venus was decorated with pearls. The dress of the wealthy was
so pearl-bedecked that Pliny exclaimed in irony: “It is not sufficient
for them to wear pearls, but they must trample and walk over them”;[13]
and the women wore pearls even in the still hours of the night, so that
in their sleep they might be conscious of possessing the beautiful
gems.[14]

It is related that the voluptuous Caligula (12–41 A.D.)—he who raised
his favorite horse Incitatus to the consulship—decorated that horse with
a pearl necklace, and that he himself wore slippers embroidered with
pearls; and the tyrannical Nero (37–68 A.D.), not content with having
his scepter and throne of pearls, provided the actors in his theater
with masks and scepters decorated with them. Thus wrote the observant
Philo, the envoy of the Jews to the Emperor Caligula: “The couches upon
which the Romans recline at their repasts shine with gold and pearls;
they are splendid with purple coverings interwoven with pearls and
gold.”

Yet not all the men of Rome were enthusiastic over the beautiful “gems
of the sea, which resemble milk and snow,” as the poet Manlius called
them. Even then, as now, there were some faultfinders. The immortal
Cæsar interdicted their use by women beneath a certain rank; Martial and
Tibullus inveighed against them; the witty Horace directed his stinging
shafts of satire against the extravagance. Referring to a woman named
Gellia, Martial wrote: “By no gods or goddesses does she swear, but by
her pearls. These she embraces and kisses. These she calls her brothers
and sisters. She loves them more dearly than her two sons. Should she by
some chance lose them, the miserable woman would not survive an
hour.”[15] Hear what stern old Seneca had to say: “Pearls offer
themselves to my view. Simply one for each ear? No! The lobes of our
ladies have attained a special capacity for supporting a great number.
Two pearls alongside of each other, with a third suspended above, now
form a single earring! The crazy fools seem to think that their husbands
are not sufficiently tormented unless they wear the value of an
inheritance in each ear!”[16]

The prices reported for some choice ones at that time seem fabulous. It
is recorded by Suetonius, that the Roman general, Vitellius, paid the
expenses of a military campaign with the proceeds of one pearl from his
mother’s ears: “_Atque ex aure matris detractum unionem pigneraverit ad
itineris impensas_.” In his “_Historia naturalis_,” Pliny says that in
the first century A.D., they ranked first in value among all precious
things,[17] and reports sixty million sestertii[18] as the value of the
two famous pearls—“the singular and only jewels of the world and even
nature’s wonder”—which Cleopatra wore at the celebrated banquet to Mark
Antony. And Suetonius[19] places at six million sestertii the value of
the one presented by Julius Cæsar as a tribute of love to Servilia, the
mother of Brutus, who thus wore
The spoils of nations in an ear,
Changed to the treasure of a shell.

Or, as St. Jerome expressed it in his “Vita Pauli Eremitæ”:
_Uno filo villarum insunt pretia._

We are told by Ælius Lampridius that an ambassador once brought to
Alexander Severus two remarkably large and heavy pearls for the empress.
The emperor offered them for sale, and as no purchaser was found, he had
them hung in the ears of the statue of Venus, saying: “If the empress
should have such pearls, she would give a bad example to the other
women, by wearing an ornament of so much value that no one could pay for
it.”

The word “margarita” was used symbolically to designate the most
cherished object; for instance, a favorite child. In an inscription
published by Fabretti, p. 44, No. 253, the word _margaritio_ has the
same significance. (Sex. Bruttidio juveni margaritioni carissimo, vixit
annis II mensibus VII, diebus XVIII.)[20]

While the ancient writers were familiar with the pearl itself, they knew
little of the fisheries, and related many curious stories which had come
to Athens and Rome. Pliny and Ælianus quoted from Megasthenes that the
pearl-oysters lived in communities like swarms of bees, and were
governed by one remarkable for its size and great age, and which was
wonderfully expert in keeping its subjects out of danger, and that the
fishermen endeavored first to catch this one, so that the others might
easily be secured. Procopius, one of the most entertaining of the old
Byzantine chroniclers, wrote of social relations between the
pearl-oysters and the sharks, and of methods of inducing the growth of
pearls.

The principal fisheries of antiquity were in the Persian Gulf, on the
coasts of Ceylon and India, and in the Red Sea. The pearls referred to
in ancient Chinese literature appear to have been taken from the rivers
and ponds of that country, while those in Cochin China and Japan seem to
have come from the adjoining seas. The pearls were distributed among the
nations in control of the fisheries, and from them, other people
received collections, either as presents, in conquest, or by way of
trade. History makes no mention of pearls having been obtained elsewhere
than in the Orient up to the time of Julius Cæsar, when small quantities
of inexpensive ones were collected in Britain by the invading Romans.
And in the first century A.D., Pliny states that small reddish pearls
were found about Italy and in the Bosphorus Straits near Constantinople.

A number of specimens of pearls of the artistic Greeks and of the
luxurious Romans are yet in existence, and some of these are in a fairly
good state of preservation. A notable and interesting example is a
superb Greek necklace of pearls and gold, referred to the third century
B.C., and now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Several
earrings now in that museum, in the Hermitage at St. Petersburg, the
British Museum, the Louvre in Paris, and in the Boston Museum of Fine
Arts, are shown in this book. Some of these may have decorated ears that
listened to the comedies of Aristophanes, the tragedies of Euripides,
the philosophies of Plato, or the oratory of Demosthenes. A number of
classic statues have the ears pierced for earrings, notably the Venus de
Medici now in the Tribuna of the Uffizi, Florence; and a magnificent
pair of half-pearls is said to have decorated the Venus of the Pantheon
in Rome.[21] Pearl grape earrings are shown on the artistic intaglio by
Aspasios, representing the bust of the Athene Parthenos of Phidias,
which has been in the Gemmen Münzen Cabinet at Vienna since 1669.

The beautiful Tyszkiewicz bronze statuette of Aphrodite was acquired in
1900 by the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, and has even yet a pearl in a
fairly good state of preservation suspended from each ear by a spiral
thread of gold which passes quite through the gem and also through the
lobe of the ear. This statuette has been described as “the most
beautiful bronze Venus known.”[22] Professor Froehner considers that it
belongs nearer to the period of Phidias (_circa_ 500–430 B.C.) than to
that of Praxiteles (_circa_ 400–336 B.C.); but Dr. Edward Robinson does
not concur in this opinion, and refers it to the Hellenic period
(_circa_ 330–146 B.C.).

However, considering the very large accumulations, relatively few pearls
of antiquity now remain, and none of these is of great ornamental value.
Those in archæological collections and art museums are more or less
decayed through the ravages of time and accident to which they have been
subjected. While coins, gold jewelry, crystal gems, etc., of ancient
civilizations are relatively numerous, the less durable pearls have not
survived the many centuries of pillage, waste, and burial in the earth.

A well-known instance of this decay is found in the Stilicho pearls,
which owe their prominence to the incident of their long burial. The
daughters of this famous Roman general, who were successively betrothed
to the Emperor Honorius, died in 407 A.D., and were buried with their
pearls and ornaments. In 1526, or more than eleven centuries afterward,
in excavating for an extension of St. Peter’s, the tomb was opened, and
the ornaments were found in fair condition, except the pearls, which
were as lusterless and dead as a wreath of last year’s flowers.

II MEDIEVAL AND MODERN HISTORY OF PEARLS

I’ll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
Rich pearls upon thee.
_Antony and Cleopatra_, Act II, sc. 5.

The popularity of pearls in Rome has its counterpart in the Empire of
the East at Byzantium or Constantinople on its development in wealth and
luxury after becoming the capital of that empire in 330 A.D. Owing to
its control of the trade between Asia and Europe, and the influence of
oriental taste and fashion, enormous collections were made; and for
centuries after Rome had been pillaged, this capital was the focus of
all the arts, and pearls were the favorite ornaments. The famous mosaic
in the sanctuary of San Vitale at Ravenna, shows Justinian (483–565)
with his head covered with a jeweled cap, and the Empress Theodora
wearing a tiara encircled by three rows of pearls, and strings of pearls
depend therefrom almost to the waist. In many instances the decorations
of the emperors excelled even those of the most profligate of Roman
rulers. An examination of the coins, from those of Arcadius in 395 to
the last dribble of a long line of obscure rulers when the city was
captured and pillaged by Venetian and Latin adventurers in 1204, shows
in the form of diadems, collars, necklaces, etc., the great quantity of
pearls worn by them. The oldest existing crown in use at the present
time, the Hungarian crown of St. Stephen, which is radiant with pearls,
is of Byzantine workmanship.

Outside of Constantinople, the demand and fashion for pearls did not
cease with the downfall of the Roman Empire and the spoliation of Rome
in the fifth century. The treasures accumulated there, and the gems and
jewels, were carried away by the conquering Goths and scattered among
the great territorial lords of western and northern Europe.

In the ancient cities of Gaul, in Toulouse and Narbonne, the Ostrogoth
and the Visigoth kings collected enormous treasures. The citadel of
Carcassonne held magnificent spoils brought from the sacking of Rome in
410 by Alaric, king of the Ostrogoths, consisting in part of jewels from
the Temple, these having been carried to Rome after the spoliation of
Jerusalem in 70 A.D. Several beautiful objects of this and somewhat
later periods are yet in existence, notably the Visigothic crowns and
crosses, in the Musée de l’Hôtel de Cluny, Paris, the most beautiful of
which are probably the crown and the cross of Reccesvinthus.[23]

Even as the treasures of Rome were despoiled by the Ostrogoths and the
Visigoths, so, later, their collections were depleted by the military
operations of the Franks, when Narbonne was pillaged; when Toulouse was
sacked by Clovis, or Chlodowig, in 507; when the churches of Barcelona
and Toledo were despoiled by Childebert in 531 and 542; and by various
expeditions in succeeding years.

The military triumphs of the Franks placed them in the highest rank
among the peoples of Europe, in the sixth and seventh centuries, in the
possession of treasures of jewels which enriched their palaces and great
churches. And the taste which the triumphs of war had developed was
maintained by the trade carried on by the Jewish and Syrian merchants.
The inhabitants of Gaul were extremely fond of objects of art, of rich
costumes, and of personal decorations; and the courts of some of the
early kings rivaled in magnificence those of oriental monarchs.
Especially was this true during the reign of King Dagobert (628–638),
who competed in splendor with the rulers of Persia and India. His
skilful jeweler, Eligius (588–659), was raised to the bishopric of
Noyon, and eventually—under the name of St. Eloi—became one of the most
popular saints in Gaul. Under direction of this artistic bishop, the
ancient churches received shrines, vestments, and reliquaries superbly
decorated with pearls and other gems. Indeed, for several centuries
following the time of Eligius, the greatest treasures of jewels seem to
have been collected in the churches.

The use of gems in enriching regalia, vestments, and reliquaries in
Europe, advanced greatly during the reign of Charlemagne (768–814); and
princes and bishops competed with each other in the magnificence of
their gifts to the churches, sacrificing their laical jewels for the
sacred treasures. Few of the great ornaments of Charlemagne’s time are
now in existence in the original form. Doubtless the most remarkable
pieces are the sacred regalia of the great emperor, preserved among the
imperial treasures in Vienna.

An artistic use for pearls at that time was in the rich and elegant
bindings of the splendidly written missals and chronicles, finished in
the highest degree of excellence and at vast expense. An artist might
devote his whole life to completing a single manuscript, so great was
the detail and so exquisite the finish. Vasari states that Julio Clovio
devoted nine years to painting twenty-six miniatures in the Breviary of
the Virgin now in the royal library at Naples. The library at Rouen has
a large missal on which a monk of St. Andoen is said to have labored for
thirty years. These books were among the most valued possessions of the
churches, and their bindings were enriched with gold and pearls and
colored stones. The wealthy churches had many such volumes; Gregory of
Tours states that from Barcelona in 531 A.D. Childebert brought twenty
“_evangeliorum capsas_” of pure gold set with gems. Several of these
superbly bound volumes are yet in existence, in the Basilica of St. Mark
in Venice; in the treasury of the cathedral at Milan; among the imperial
Russian collections in the Ourejenaya Palata at Moscow, etc.; and they
furnish probably the most reliable examples of artistic jewel work of
the Dark Ages.

The most remarkable specimen of these books in America is doubtless the
Ashburnham manuscript of the Four Gospels, now owned by J. Pierpont
Morgan, Esq., which affords an interesting example of the jeweler’s art.
For many centuries it belonged to the Abbey of the Noble Canonesses,
founded, in 834, at Lindau, on Lake Constance. After an extended
examination, Mr. Alexander Nesbit concluded that the rich cover of the
manuscript was probably made between 896 and 899 by order of Emperor
Arnulf of the Carolingian dynasty. Most of the ninety-eight pearls
appear to be from fresh water, and probably all of them were obtained
from the rivers of Europe. This is one of the few remaining pieces of
the magnificent ecclesiastical jeweling of that period.

After the death of Charlemagne, internal dissensions, separations and
the division of the Empire into the nations of Europe, annihilated
commerce, oppressed the people, and impoverished the arts. In the ninth
century, the Normans pillaged many of the palaces and churches in
Angoulême, Tours, Orléans, Rouen, and Paris, and destroyed or carried
away large treasures. The tenth and the eleventh centuries were indeed
the Dark Ages in respect to the cultivation of the arts; yet even during
that period the churches of western Europe received many gems from
penitent and fear-stricken subjects. The heart of man, filled with the
love of God, laid its earthly treasure upon the altar in exchange for
heavenly consolation. Pious faith dedicated pearls to the glorification
of the ritual; altars, statues, and images of the saints, priestly
vestments, and sacred vessels, were surcharged with them. The great
museums and the imperial collections contain some beautiful and highly
venerated objects of this nature.

In the meantime pearls of small size and of fair luster had been
collected in the rivers of Scotland, Ireland, and France, the headwaters
of the Danube, and in the countries north thereof. In England, as noted
in the preceding chapter, they were obtained by Cæsar’s invading
legions, who carried many to Rome. Ancient coins indicate that pearls
formed the principal ornament of the simple crowns worn by the early
kings of Britain previous to Alfred the Great.

The river pearls were not so beautiful as oriental ones; but, owing to
the ease with which they were obtained, they were employed more
extensively and especially in ecclesiastical decorations, the principal
use for pearls from the eighth to the eleventh century. Apparently
authentic specimens of fresh-water pearls of an early period are the
four now in the coronation spoon of the English regalia, which is
attributed to the twelfth century.

From the most ancient times until the overthrow of the Roman Empire,
practically the only use for pearls was ornamental; but after the eighth
century there developed a new employment for these as well as for other
gems. Natural history was little studied in Europe from the ninth to the
fourteenth century, except for the effect which its subjects had in
medicine and magic, which were closely allied. Largely through Arabic
influence, the practice of medicine had developed into administering
most whimsical remedies, among which gems, and especially pearls, played
a prominent part, and belief in the influence of these was as strong as
in that of the heavenly bodies. For this application, large demands had
arisen for pearls, which seem to have been prescribed for nearly every
ill to which the flesh was heir. On account of their cheapness, the
small ones—seed-pearls—were used principally; though larger ones were
preferred by persons who could afford them. While many of these
so-called medicinal pearls were obtained from the Orient, most of them
were secured from the home streams in the north of Europe and in the
British Isles.

After the decadence of Roman power in the East, the rulers of India and
Persia, through their control of the fisheries, again accumulated
enormous quantities of pearls. All of the early travelers to those
countries were astonished at the lavish display of these gems in
decorative costume.

The manuscript of Renaudot’s two Mohammedans, who visited India and
China in the ninth century, notes that the kings of the Indies were rich
in ornaments, “yet pearls are what they most esteem, and their value
surpasses that of all other jewels; they hoard them up in their
treasures with their most precious things. The grandees of the court,
the great officers and captains, wear the like jewels in their
collars.”[24]

Inventories of some of the oriental collections of later times seem to
be extravagant fiction rather than veritable history. In that
interesting book dictated in a Genoese prison to Rusticiano da Pisa,
accounts are given by Marco Polo of great treasures seen by the first
Europeans to penetrate into China. He describes the king of Malabar as
wearing suspended about his neck a string of 104 large pearls and rubies
of great value, which he used as a rosary. Likewise on his legs were
anklets and on his toes were rings, all thickly set with costly pearls,
the whole “worth more than a city’s ransom. And ’tis no wonder he hath
great store of such gear; for they are found in his kingdom. No one is
permitted to remove therefrom a pearl weighing more than half a
_saggio_. The king desires to reserve all such to himself, and so the
quantity he has is almost incredible.”[25]

Later travelers give wonderful descriptions of this excessive passion
for pearls. Literature is full of this appreciation, and of the part
which these gems played in the affairs of the Orientals. Who has not
dwelt with delight upon those imperishable legends such as are embodied
in the Arabian Nights, of the pearl voyages by Sindbad the Sailor, of
the wonderful treasure chests, and of the superb necklaces adorning the
beautiful black-eyed women!

The returning Crusaders in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and the
development of the knightly orders, had much to do with spreading
through Europe a fondness for pearls in personal decoration. Those who,
like Chaucer’s knight, had been with Peter, King of Cyprus, at the
capture and plunder when “Alexandria was won,” returned to their homes
with riches of pearls and gold and precious stones. And learning much
relative to decorative art from Moorish craftsmen, the jewelers of
western Europe set these in designs not always crude and ineffective.

Although they were well known and valued, pearls do not seem to have
been much used in England before the twelfth century, as the
Anglo-Saxons were not an especially art-loving people. The word itself
is of foreign derivation and occurs in a similar form in all modern
languages, both Romance and Teutonic; _perle_, French and German;
_perla_, Italian, Portuguese, Provençal, Spanish, and Swedish; _paarl_,
Danish and Dutch. Its origin is doubtful. Some philologists consider it
Teutonic and the diminutive of _beere_, a berry; Claude de Saumaise
derives it from _pirula_, the diminutive of _pirum_, a sphere; while
Diez and many others refer it to _pira_ or to the medieval Latin
_pirula_, in allusion to the pear shape frequently assumed by the
pearl.[26]

The word pearl seems to have come into general use in the English
language about the fourteenth century. In Wyclif’s translation of the
Scriptures (about 1360), he commonly used the word _margarite_ or
_margaritis_, whereas Tyndale’s translation (1526) in similar places
used the word _perle_. Tyndale translated Matt. xiii. 46: “When he had
founde one precious pearle”; Wyclif used “oo preciouse margarite.” Also
in Matt. vii. 6, Tyndale wrote, “Nether caste ye youre pearles before
swyne”; yet Wyclif used “margaritis,” although twenty years later he
expressed it “putten precious perlis to hoggis.” Langland’s Piers
Plowman (1362), XI, 9, wrote this: “_Noli mittere_ Margeri perles Among
hogges.” The oldest English version of Mandeville’s Travels, written
about 1400, contained the expression: “The fyn Perl congeles and wexes
gret of the dew of hevene”; but in 1447, Bokenham’s “Seyntys” stated: “A
margerye perle aftyr the phylosophyr Growyth on a shelle of lytyl
pryhs”; and Knight de la Tour (about 1450) stated: “The sowle is the
precious marguarite unto God.”

The word is given “perle” in the earliest manuscripts of those old epic
poems of the fourteenth century, “Pearl” and “Cleanness,” which have
caused so much learned theological discussion and which testify to the
great love and esteem in which the gem was held. The first stanza of
“Pearl” we quote from Gollancz’s rendition:

Pearl! fair enow for princes’ pleasance,
so deftly set in gold so pure,—
from orient lands I durst avouch,
ne’er saw I a gem its peer,—
so round, so comely-shaped withal,
so small, with sides so smooth,—
where’er I judged of radiant gems,
I placed my pearl supreme.[27]

The fourteenth-century manuscript in the British Museum gives this as
follows:

Perle plesaunte to prynces paye,
To clanly clos in gold so clere,
Oute of oryent I hardyly saye,
Ne proved I never her precios pere,—
So rounde, so reken in uche a raye,
So smal, so smothe her sydez were,—
Queresoever I jugged gemmez gaye,
I sette hyr sengeley in synglere.

And from a modern rendering of “Cleanness” we quote:

The pearl is praised wherever gems are seen,
though it be not the dearest by way of merchandise.
Why is the pearl so prized, save for its purity,
that wins praise for it above all white stones?
It shineth so bright; it is so round of shape;
without fault or stain; if it be truly a pearl.

In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries throughout Europe pearls were
very fashionable as personal ornaments, and were worn in enormous
quantities; the dresses of men as well as of women were decorated and
embroidered with them, and they were noted in nearly every account of a
festive occasion, whether it were a marriage, a brilliant tourney, the
consecration of a bishop, or the celebration of a victory in battle.

The faceting of crystal gems was not known at that time, and those
dependent on artifice for their beauty were not much sought after.
Although the diamond had been known from the eighth century, it was not
generally treasured as an ornament, and not until long after the
invention of cutting in regular facets—about 1450—did it attain its
great popularity.

In the Dark Ages, it was customary for princes and great nobles to carry
their valuables about with them even on the battle-fields; first, in
order to have them always in possession, and second, on account of the
mysterious power they attributed to precious stones. Since jewels
constituted a large portion of their portable wealth, nobles and knights
went into battle superbly arrayed. In this manner the treasures were
easily lost and destroyed; consequently, relatively few of the personal
ornaments of that period are preserved to the present time.

Among the greatest lovers of pearls in the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries were the members of the ducal house of Burgundy, and
especially Philip the Bold (1342–1404), Philip the Good (1396–1467), and
Charles the Bold (1433–77), and some of the gems which they owned are
even now treasured in Austria, Spain, and Italy. When Duke Charles the
Bold, in the year 1473, attended the Diet of Treves, accompanied by his
five thousand splendidly equipped horsemen, he was attired in cloth of
gold garnished with pearls, which were valued at 200,000 golden
florins.[28] We are told that “almost a sea of pearls” was on view at
the marriage of George the Rich with Hedwig, the daughter of Casimir III
of Poland, at Landshut, in 1475. Among the many ornaments was a pearl
chaplet valued at 50,000 florins which Duke George wore on his hat, and
also a clasp worth 6000 florins.[29] Members of the related houses of
Anjou and Valois also held great collections. Nor in this account should
we omit some of the English sovereigns, including especially Richard II
(1366–1400), one of the greatest dandies of his day.

During the fifteenth century, enormous quantities of pearls were worn by
persons of rank and fashion. A remarkable 1483 portrait of Margaret,
wife of James III of Scotland, which is now preserved at Hampton Court,
shows her wearing such wonderful pearl ornaments that she might well be
called Margaret from her decorations. As this queen was praised for her
beauty, we fear the artist has scarcely done justice to her appearance;
or possibly since that period tastes have changed as to what on a throne
passes for beauty. Her head-dress is undoubtedly the most remarkable
pearl decoration which we have seen of that century.

The uxorious and sumptuous Henry VIII of England (1491–1547) spent much
of the great wealth accumulated by his penurious father, Henry VII, in
enriching the appearance of his semi-barbaric court. In this reign, the
spoliation of the Catholic cathedrals and churches contributed many
pearls to the royal treasury; and onward from that time, they were
prominently displayed among the ornaments of the women of rank in
England. Most of the portraits of Henry’s wives show great quantities of
these gems; many of them with settings doubtless designed by artistic
Hans Holbein the Younger (1497–1543); and during the succeeding reigns
the women near the throne were commonly depicted with elaborate pearl
decorations.

The cold, unflattering portraits by Holbein of the court celebrities of
that period, not only of the gracious women and of the dandified men,
but of the clergy as well, show the prominence of pearls. Note his
portrait of Jane Seymour, of Anne of Cleves, of Christina of Denmark,
and the pearl-incrusted miter of Archbishop Warham of Canterbury.

An interesting story is told of Sir Thomas More, the learned chancellor
of Henry VIII, showing his view of the great display of jewels which
distinguished the period in which he lived:

His sonne John’s wife often had requested her father-in-law, Sir
Thomas, to buy her a billiment sett with pearles. He had often put
her off with many pretty slights; but at last, for her importunity,
he provided her one. Instead of pearles, he caused white peaze to be
sett, so that at his next coming home, his daughter-in-law demanded
her jewel. “Ay, marry, daughter, I have not forgotten thee!” So out
of his studie he sent for a box, and solemnlie delivered it to her.
When she, with great joy, lookt for her billiment, she found, far
from her expectation, a billiment of peaze; and so she almost wept
for verie griefe.[30]

Meanwhile, in the yet unknown America, pearls were highly prized, and
their magic charm had taken an irresistible hold on aborigines and on
the more highly civilized inhabitants of Mexico and Peru. In Mexico the
palaces of Montezuma were studded with pearls and emeralds, and the
Aztec kings possessed pearls of inestimable value. That they had been
collected elsewhere for a long time is evidenced by the large quantities
in the recently opened mounds of the Ohio Valley, which rank among the
ancient works of man in America. As in the Old World, so in the New,
they had been used as decoration for the gods and for the temples, as
well as for men and women.

The principal immediate effect of Columbus’s discovery and of the
commercial intercourse with the New World, was the great wealth of
pearls which enriched the Spanish traders. The natives were found in
possession of rich fisheries on the coast of Venezuela, and somewhat
later on the Pacific coast of Panama and Mexico, whence Eldorado
adventurers returned to Spain with such large collections that—using an
old chronicler’s expression—“they were to every man like chaff.” For
many years America was best known in Seville, Cadiz, and some other
ports of Europe, as the land whence the pearls came. Until the
development of the mines in Mexico and Peru, the value of the pearls
exceeded that of all other exports combined. Humboldt states that till
1530 these averaged in value more than 800,000 piastres yearly.[31] And
throughout the sixteenth century the American fisheries—prosecuted by
the Spaniards with the help of native labor—furnished Europe with large
quantities, the records for one year showing imports of “697 pounds’
weight” into Seville alone.

For two centuries following the discovery of America, extravagance in
personal decoration was almost unlimited at the European courts, and the
pearls exceeded in quantity that of all other gems. Enormous numbers
were worn by persons of rank and fortune. This is apparent, not only
from the antiquarian records and the historical accounts, but also in
the paintings and engravings of that time; portraits of the Hapsburgs,
the Valois, the Medicis, the Borgias, the Tudors, and the Stuarts show
great quantities of pearls, and relatively few other gems.

Probably the largest treasures were in possession of the Hapsburg
family, which furnished so many sovereigns to the Holy Roman Empire, to
Austria, and to Spain, and which, by descent through Maria Theresa,
continued to rule the Holy Roman Empire until its abolition in 1806, and
has since ruled Austria and Hungary.

A number of superb pieces of jewelry owned centuries ago by members of
this illustrious family are yet in existence; notably the buckle of
Charles V, and especially the imperial crown of Austria, made in 1602 by
order of Rudolph II.[32]

Two great women of that period are noted for their passion for pearls,
Catharine de’ Medici (1519–89), and Elizabeth of England (1533–1603). It
requires but a glance at almost any of their portraits, wherein they are
represented wearing elaborate pearl ornaments, to see to what an extent
they carried this fondness. And many other women were not far behind
them, among whom were Mary Stuart, Marie de’ Medici, and Henrietta
Maria. And not only by the women, but by the men also, pearls were worn
to what now seems an extravagant extent. Nearly all the portraits of
Francis I (1494–1547), Henry II (1519–59), Charles IX (1550–74), and
Henry III (1551–89) of France; of James I (1566–1625), and of Charles I
(1600–49) of England, and likewise of other celebrities, show a great
pear-shaped pearl in one ear. Many portraits also show pearls on the
hats, cloaks, gloves, etc.

When the Duke of Buckingham went to Paris in 1625, to bring over
Henrietta Maria to be queen to Charles I, he had, according to an
account in the “Antiquarian Repertory,” in addition to twenty-six other
suits, “a rich suit of purple satin, embroidered all over with rich
orient pearls, the cloak made after the Spanish mode, with all things
suitable, the value whereof will be twenty thousand pounds, and this, it
is thought, shall be for the wedding day at Paris.”

In the rich and prosperous cities of southern Europe, pearls were no
less popular. From its share of the spoils of the Byzantine Empire,
after its partition in 1204, pearls and other riches were plentiful in
Venice, and they were increased by the rapidly developing trade with the
Orient. In the rival maritime cities, Genoa and Pisa, the gem was
equally popular; and likewise in Florence “the Beautiful.” When Hercule
d’Este sought Lucrezia Borgia (1480–1519) in marriage for his son, her
father, Pope Alexander VI, plunging both hands in a box filled with
pearls, said: “All these are for her! I desire that in all Italy she
shall be the princess with the most beautiful pearls and with the
greatest number.”[33]

Separated by three centuries of time and by the intervening simplicities
of puritanism and democracy, it is difficult for us to appreciate the
passion for pearls in Europe at that period, which may well be called
the Pearl Age.

The sumptuary laws which prevailed at different times in France,
England, Germany, and other countries, did not overlook this
extravagance; and an entire volume might be devoted to the efforts to
curb the excessive use. In France they were probably most stringent
during the reign of Philip IV (1285–1314), of Louis XI (1461–83), of
Charles IX (1560–74), of Henry III (1574–89), and of Louis XIII
(1610–43). In Germany almost every city had its special restrictions. A
sumptuary law of Ulm, in 1345, provided that no married woman or maiden,
either among the patricians or the artisans, should wear pearls on her
dresses; and another, in 1411, restricted them to “one pearl chaplet,”
and this should not exceed twelve _loth_ (half ounce) in weight. A
Frankish sumptuary law of 1479 provided that ordinary nobles serving a
knight at a tourney should not wear any pearl ornaments, embroidered or
otherwise, excepting one string around the cap or hat. The regulations
decreed by the Diet of Worms, in 1495, set forth that the citizens who
were not of noble birth, and nobles who were not knights, must withhold
from the use of gold and pearls. A similar provision was enacted by the
Diet of Freiburg in 1498, and likewise by the Diet of Augsburg in 1530,
which permitted the wives of nobles four silk dresses, but without
pearls. In the sumptuary law of Duke John George of Saxony, April 23,
1612, we read: “the nobility are not allowed to wear any dresses of gold
or silver, or garnished with pearls; neither shall the professors and
doctors of the universities, nor their wives, wear any gold, silver or
pearls for fringes, or any chains of pearls, or caps, neck ornaments,
shoes, slippers, shawls, pins, etc., with gold or silver or with
pearls.” Beadles, burgomasters, and those connected with the law-courts
were forbidden to wear chains of pearls and ornaments of precious stones
on their dresses, caps, etc., or slippers or chaplets with pearls.

Probably in no place were these laws more stringent than in the
art-loving republic of Venice from the fourteenth to the sixteenth
century. This seems remarkable in view of the fact that this city was
largely dependent for its wealth and prominence on commerce with the
East, of which pearls constituted a prominent item.

The earliest Venetian restriction that we have found regarding pearls
was made in 1299; when, in a decree determining the maximum number of
guests at a marriage ceremony and the extent of the bridal trousseau,
the grand council of the republic provided that no one but the bride
should wear pearl decorations, and she should be permitted only one
girdle of them on her wedding dress. This enactment was modified in
1306, but numerous other restrictions were substituted, notably in 1334,
1340, 1360, 1497, and 1562. These differed in many particulars: some
forbade ornaments or trimmings of pearls, gold, or silver on the dresses
of any women except a member of the Doge’s family; and other enactments
required that, after a definite period of married life, no woman should
be permitted to wear pearls of any kind. But an examination of the
documents and of the paintings of that period shows that these decrees
had little effect, and the luxury of the “Queen of the Adriatic” in the
use of pearls at the most brilliant epoch in her history is aptly
reproduced in the portraits by Giovanni Bellini, Lorenzo Lotto, the
great Titian, Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, and other artists of the
highest rank. In the engraving by Hendrik Goltzius of a marriage at
Venice in 1584, not one of the many women present seems to be without
her necklace and earrings of pearls, and some of them have several
necklaces.[34] And the same appears true of the principal female figures
in Jost Amman’s noted engraving, “The Espousal of the Sea,” executed in
1565.[35]

As preservation of the republic became more difficult with declining
resources and with the continued growth of dazzling splendor, a
resolution in the Senate, dated July 8, 1599, set forth that “the use
and price of pearls has become so excessive and increases to such an
extent from day to day, that if some remedy is not provided, it will
cause injury, disorders, and notable inconvenience to public and private
well-being, as each one of this council in his wisdom can very easily
appreciate.” And then it was enacted: “That, without repealing the other
regulations which absolutely prohibit the wearing of pearls, it shall be
expressly enjoined that any woman, whether of noble birth or a simple
citizen, or of any other condition, who shall reside in this our city
for one year (except her Serenity the Dogaressa and her daughters and
her daughters-in-law who live in the palace), after the expiration of
fifteen years from the day of her first marriage, shall lay aside the
string of pearls around her neck and shall not wear or use, either upon
her neck or upon any other part of her person, this string or any other
kind of pearls or anything which imitates pearls, neither in this city
nor in any other city or place within our dominion, under the
irremissible penalty of two hundred ducats.”

And yet ten years later, on May 5, 1609, another law enacted in the
Senate stated:

Although in the year 1599 this council decided with great wisdom
that married women should be permitted to wear pearls for only
fifteen years after their first marriage, nevertheless it is very
evident that the desired end has not been attained, and the
extravagance has continued up to the present time and still
continues with the gravest injury to private persons. Therefore, as
it is necessary to remedy, by a new provision, not only this
considerable incommodity, but also to prevent in the future the
introduction into the city of a greater quantity of pearls than are
found here at present, it is enacted, that married women as well as
those who shall marry in the future (except the Serene Dogaressa and
her daughters and her daughters-in-law living in the palace) of
whatever grade and condition they may be, who have resided in this
city for one year, cannot wear pearls of any kind except for ten
years immediately following the day of their first marriage; and
after that period they must lay aside these pearls which they are
forbidden to wear on any part of their persons, at home or abroad,
and as well in this as in the other cities, lands, and other places
of our dominion, under the penalty of two hundred ducats. And if the
husband of the offending wife is a noble, he shall be proclaimed in
the greater council and declared a debtor to the office of the
governors of the revenue in the sum of twenty-five ducats for each
fine; and if he is a citizen or of any other condition, besides the
penalty of two hundred ducats and the fine of twenty-five ducats
above mentioned, he shall be banished for three years from Venice
and the Duchy, and the same for each offence. And pearls or anything
which imitates pearls, shall be forbidden to all other women, men
and boys or girls of every age and condition at all times and in all
places, under the same penalty of two hundred ducats. In the future
no one shall in any manner bring pearls to this city as merchandise,
under the penalty of their seizure and forfeiture. And the merchant
shall be imprisoned for five consecutive years; and if he flees, he
shall be banished from the city and district of Venice and from all
other cities, lands, and places of our dominion for eight
consecutive years…. And all who at present have pearls to sell are
required to deposit a list of them with the sumptuary office, so as
to avoid all fraud which could be practiced in this matter.

A copy of the title-page of this enactment is presented above.

The decrees and edicts were not confined to Venice, or to Italy, France,
or Germany; they made their appearance quite generally throughout
western and northern Europe and the interdictions of the civil
authorities were strengthened by the voice of the bishops and other
clergy, especially in the imperial cities of southern Germany. Yet the
united authority of church and state was ineffectual in stemming the
tide of fashion and personal fancy, and whether or not pearls should be
worn became one of the much discussed questions of that period.

To the question, “Whether the statute and regulation of Bishop
Tudertinus, who had excommunicated all women who wore pearls, was
binding,” Joannes Guidius replied that many denied that this was so, and
made the subtle defense that “the women had not accepted it and all had
worn pearls, and it was considered that such a law was binding only when
it was accepted by those for whom it was intended.”[36]

And as to the validity of the statutes requiring that women should not
wear more than a definite number of pearls, he decided that “such a
statute is valid and in itself good. And if the question is put whether
every woman who infringes incurs the penalty, an answer may be gathered
from the sayings of the doctors, who distinguish between married and
unmarried women. They consider that an unmarried woman is obliged to
obey the statute and regulation or to incur the penalty. But as to a
married woman, if her husband approves, she should obey the statute; if,
however, the husband objects, then the wife ought to wish to obey the
statute, but in effect she should rather obey her husband, for she is
most immediately and strongly bound to do this.”[37] Aided by such
ingenious opinions as these, the women continued to follow their own
inclinations notwithstanding the opposition of church and state.

Other fine distinctions were drawn by the lawyers of that day regarding
ownership of gems under certain conditions. For instance, it was decided
that pearls given by a father to his unmarried daughter remained her
property after marriage because “they are given for a reason, namely to
induce a marriage”; yet “pearls handed to a wife by her husband are not
considered as her property, but must be given to his heirs, since it is
supposed that they were given only for her adornment. The same holds
good as respects pearls handed to a daughter-in-law by her
father-in-law.”[38]

However, the greed of fashion, which law-makers and bishops could not
arrest, was gradually satiated; and, influenced probably by the horrors
of the Thirty Years’ War, more simple taste prevailed in the latter part
of the seventeenth century.

In the meantime, improvements in cutting and polishing had greatly
increased the beauty and popularity of diamonds and other crystal gems,
and this adversely affected the demand for pearls. Furthermore, cleverly
fashioned imitations manufactured at a low cost also served to decrease
the relative rank and fashion of the sea-born gems. In the eighteenth
century, pearls were relatively scarce; the resources of the American
seas were largely exhausted, likewise the Ceylon and Red Sea fisheries
were not to be depended on, and practically the entire supply came from
the Persian Gulf, with a few from European rivers and the waters of
China. As a result, although they continued to be prized by
connoisseurs, pearls were not so extensively sought after by the rank
and file of jewel purchasers.

It should be noted, however, that from the most ancient times, the
princes of India and of Persia have had their pick and choice of the
output from Ceylon and the Persian Gulf; and the largest single
collections of the Western world have never equaled the possessions of
some of those rulers. Some Indian princes have loaded themselves with
thousands of pearls, and individual ornaments have been valued not only
by oriental, but by European experts, at several millions of dollars.

The great diamond resources of Brazil were discovered in 1727, and after
a few years these came on the market at the rate of 140,000 carats
annually. At that time ladies of rank did not esteem diamonds so highly
as pearls. This distinction was accentuated by Lord Hervey in his
account of the coronation, in 1727, of George II and his consort
Caroline, who wore not only the great pearl necklace inherited from
Queen Anne, but “had on her head and shoulders all the pearls she could
borrow of the ladies of quality at one end of the town, and on her
petticoat all the diamonds she could hire of the Jews and jewelers at
the other; so that the appearance and the truth of her finery was a
mixture of magnificence and meanness not unlike the _éclat_ of royalty
in many other particulars, when it comes to be nicely considered and its
source traced to what money hires or flattery lends.”[39] In a portrait
of Charlotte (1744–1818), wife of George III, the pearls and diamonds
appear equally popular.

On the entry of the British into possession of Ceylon in 1796, the
fisheries of that country were resumed with great success after thirty
years of idleness, resulting in very large outputs for several seasons.
But owing to exhaustion of the areas, they were soon reduced, and the
yield became small and uncertain.

About 1845, pearls came on the market from the Tuamotu Archipelago and
other South Sea islands, and the industry was revived on the Mexican
coast. The pearls from these localities are noted for their range of
coloration, and particularly for the very dark shades, black or greenish
black being especially prominent. But the fashion, and thus,
necessarily, the demand, had always been for white and yellow pearls;
consequently, these black ones were of little value in the markets until
about ten years later, when they became fashionable in Europe largely
through their popularity with Empress Eugénie of France, then at the
height of her power. To this queen, pearls owe much of their high rank
in fashion in the nineteenth century; and on her head they were royal
gems royally worn, as appears from Winterhalter’s portrait of her,
showing her magnificent necklace.

The discovery of the resources on the Australian coast about 1865, and
the development of the fishery there for mother-of-pearl, resulted in
many large white pearls coming from that coast. The search was confined
to the relatively shoal waters, until the introduction of diving-suits
about 1880. The use of these facilitated a considerable extension of the
fisheries not only on the Australian coast, but also in Mexico, the
Malay Archipelago, several of the South Sea islands, and some minor
localities.

In America, few jewels were worn previous to the Civil War, owing to the
absence of great wealth and to the simplicity of taste in personal
decorations. The rapid increase in wealth and luxury, on the termination
of that war, resulted in a great demand for gems, and the most brilliant
and showy ones were selected, especially diamonds. This demand was the
more readily supplied by the discovery of the South African mines, with
their great yield from 1870 to the present time. So popular did that gem
become that many a young man invested his first earnings in a
“brilliant,” and an enormous diamond in the shirt-front became the
caricatured emblem of a prosperous hotel clerk.

But in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, in Europe, as well as
in America and elsewhere where gems are worn, luxury found in pearls a
refinement, associated with richness and beauty, exceeding that of
diamonds and other crystal gems, and in the last few years they have
taken the highest rank among jewels. This change in fashion and the
increase in wealth among the people developed vastly greater demands and
consequently very much higher prices. These have resulted in greatly
extending the field of search, and during the last two or three decades
many new territories have been brought into production.

By far the most important of these new regions is the Mississippi Valley
in America, the pearl resources of which were made known about a score
of years ago. As the exploitation developed, the gems from these streams
added very largely to the supply, especially of the baroque or irregular
pearls, which have increased greatly in fashion in the last ten years.

Notwithstanding the popular idea that pearls are scarce owing to
depletion of the fisheries, they are doubtless produced in greater
quantities at present than ever before in the history of the world.
True, they were more plentiful in Rome after the Persian conquest, and
in Spain immediately following the exploitation of tropical America; but
it is highly probable that in no equal period have the entire fisheries
of the world yielded greater quantities than in the five years from 1903
to 1907 inclusive. Certain individual fisheries are now less productive
than at the height of their prosperity; those in the Red Sea do not
compare favorably with their condition in ancient times, the European
resources are nearly exhausted, the supplies from the Venezuelan coast
do not equal those obtained early in the sixteenth century, the yield
from Mexico is not so extensive as twenty-five years ago, and the same
is true of some other regions. On the other hand, the great fisheries of
Persia and Ceylon are yet very prosperous, the Ceylon fishery of 1905
surpassing all records, and the number of minor pearling regions has
largely increased.

The present value of pearls—which has advanced enormously since 1893—is
due to the extended markets and the increased wealth and fashion in
Western countries, rather than to diminished fisheries. The oriental
demand still consumes the bulk of the Persian and Indian output, and the
vast increase in wealth among the middle classes in America, Europe, and
elsewhere, has increased the demand tenfold over that of a century ago.
While women no longer appear ornamented from head to foot as in the
sixteenth century, pearls are in the highest fashion, and the woman of
rank and wealth usually prizes first among her jewels her necklace of
pearls.

III
ORIGIN OF PEARLS


Heaven-born and cradled in the deep blue sea, it is the purest of
gems and the most precious.

S. M. ZWEMER.

The origin of pearls has been a fruitful subject of speculation and
discussion among naturalists of all ages, and has provoked many curious
explanations. Most of the early views—universally accepted during those
centuries when tradition had more influence than observation and
experiment—have no standing among naturalists at the present time. And
although much information has been gained as to the conditions
accompanying their growth, and many theories are entertained, each with
some basis in observed fact, science does not yet speak with conclusive
and unquestioned authority as to the precise manner of their origin and
development.

Owing to the chaste and subdued beauty of pearls, it is not strange that
poets of many countries have founded their origin in tears—tears of
angels, of water-nymphs, of the lovely and devoted. Sir Walter Scott in
“The Bridal of Triermain” refers to—

The pearls that long have slept,
These were tears by Naiads wept.

In one of his most lovely and consoling thoughts, Shakspere says:

The liquid drops of tears that you have shed,
Shall come again, transform’d to orient pearl,
Advantaging their loan with interest
Of ten times double gain of happiness.

And we quote from Rückert’s “Edelstein und Perlen”:

I was the Angel, who of old bowed down
From Heaven to earth and shed that tear, O Pearl,
From which thou wert first-fashioned in thy shell.
To thee I gave that longing in thy shell,
Which guided thee and caused thee to escape,
O Pearl, from the bewitching sirens’ song.

In luster they so closely resemble the limpid, sparkling dewdrop as it
first receives the sun’s rays, that the ancients very naturally
conceived that pearls are formed from drops of dew or rain. The usual
legend is, that at certain seasons of the year, the pearl-oysters rise
to the surface of the water in the morning, and there open their shells
and imbibe the dewdrops; these, aided by the breath of the air and the
warmth of the sunlight, are, in the course of time, transformed into
lustrous pearls; but if the air and the sunlight are not received in
sufficient quantities, the pearls do not attain perfection and are
faulty in form, color, and luster. However remarkable and even absurd
this may seem at present, it appears to have been universally accepted
for centuries by the most learned men of Europe as well as by primitive
people who delight in the mystical and fantastic. This opinion was
recorded in the Sanskrit books of the Brahmans and in other oriental
literature. The classical and medieval writings of Europe contain
numerous references to it; and it is found even yet in the traditions
and folk-lore of some peoples.

In the first century A.D., Pliny wrote in his “Historia naturalis,”
according to Dr. Philemon Holland’s quaint translation:

The fruit of these shell fishes are the Pearles, better or worse,
great or small, according to the qualitie and quantitie of the dew
which they received. For if the dew were pure and cleare which went
into them, then are the Pearles white, faire, and Orient; but if
grosse and troubled, the Pearles likewise are dimme, foule, and
duskish; pale they are, if the weather were close, darke and
threatening raine in the time of their conception. Whereby (no
doubt) it is apparent and plaine, that they participate more of the
aire and sky, than of the water and the sea; for according as the
morning is faire, so are they cleere: but otherwise, if it were
misty and cloudy, they also will be thicke and muddy in colour. If
they may have their full time and season to feed, the Pearles
likewise will thrive and grow bigge: but if in the time it chance to
lighten, then they close their shells together, and for want of
nourishment are kept hungrie and fasting, and so the pearles keepe
at a stay and prosper not accordingly. But if it thunder withall,
then suddenly they shut hard at once, and breed only those
excrescences which be called _Physemata_, like unto bladders puft up
and hooved with wind, no corporal substance at all: and these are
the abortive & untimely fruits of these shell fishes.[40]

Pliny’s views were probably derived from the ancient authorities of his
time, particularly from Megasthenes, Chares of Mytilene, and Isidorus of
Charace; and these curious fictions were incorporated by subsequent
writers and influenced popular opinion for many centuries. With scarcely
a single exception, every recorded theory from the first century B.C. to
the fifteenth century evidences a belief in dew-formed pearls.

This theory is referred to by Thomas Moore in his well-known lines:

And precious the tear as that rain from the sky,
Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea.

The Spanish-Hebrew traveler Benjamin of Tudela, in his “Masaoth” in
Persia (from 1160 to 1173), wrote: “In these places pearls are found,
made by the wonderful artifice of nature: for on the four and twentieth
day of the month Nisan, a certain dew falleth into the waters, which
being sucked in by the oysters, they immediately sink to the bottom of
the sea; afterwards, about the middle of the month Tisri, men descend to
the bottom of the sea, and, by the help of cords, these men bringing up
the oysters in great quantities from thence, open and take out of them
the pearls.”[41]

From the “Bustan,” one of the most popular works of Sadi, the Persian
poet (1190–1291 A.D.), Davie quotes:

From the cloud there descended a droplet of rain;
’Twas ashamed when it saw the expanse of the main,
Saying: “Who may I be, where the sea has its run?
If the sea has existence, I, truly, have none!”
Since in its own eyes the drop humble appeared,
In its bosom, a shell with its life the drop reared;
The sky brought the work with success to a close,
And a famed royal pearl from the rain-drop arose.
Because it was humble it excellence gained;
Patiently waiting till success was attained.

Even the usually well-informed William Camden (1551–1623), in whose
honor the Camden Historical Society of England was named, accepted the
theory of dew-formed pearls. He stated that the river Conway in Wales
“breeds a kind of shells, which being pregnated with dew, produce
pearl.”[42] Also, speaking of the Irt in county Cumberland, England, he
said: “In this brook, the shell-fish, eagerly sucking in the dew,
conceive and bring forth pearls, or (to use the poet’s word) shell
berries (_Baccas concheas_).”[43]

A recent letter from the American consul at Aden indicates that this
view is held even yet by the Arabs of that region. In giving their
explanation for the present scarcity in the Red Sea, he states: “There
is a belief among them that a pearl is formed from a drop of rain caught
in the mouth of the pearl-oyster, which by some chemical process after a
time turns into a pearl; and as there has been very little rain in that
region for several years past, there are few pearls.”

So firmly established throughout Europe was the belief in dew-formed
pearls, that its non-acceptance by the native Indians of America excited
the commiseration of the Italian historian Peter Martyr, in his “De Orbe
Novo,” one of the very first books on America, published in 1517. He
states: “But that they [pearls of Margarita Island on the present coast
of Venezuela] become white by the clearnesse of the morning dewe, or
waxe yelowe in troubled weather, or otherwise that they seeme to rejoice
in fayre weather and dear ayre, or contrary-wise, to be as it were
astonished and dymme in thunder and tempests, with such other, the
perfect knowledge hereof is not to be looked for at the hands of these
unlearned men, which handle the matter but grossly and enquire no
further than occasion serveth.”[44] Peter Martyr was distinguished for
his learning, was an instructor at the court of Spain at the height of
its power, and came in contact with the most enlightened men of Europe,
consequently it may be assumed that he reflected the best opinions of
his time.

It was not long before the aborigines of America were not alone in
discrediting the views which had prevailed in Europe for more than
fifteen hundred years. That practical old sailor Sir Richard Hawkins
concluded that this must be “some old philosopher’s conceit, for it can
not be made probable how the dew should come into the oyster.”[45] A
similar view is expressed by Urbain Chauveton in his edition of Girolamo
Benzoni’s “Historia del Mondo Nuovo,” published at Geneva in 1578. From
his reference to pearl-oysters on the Venezuelan coast, we translate:

Around the island of Cubagua and elsewhere on the eastern coast, are
sandy places where the pearl-oysters grow. They produce their eggs
in very large quantities and likewise pearls at the same time. But
it is necessary to have patience to let them grow and mature to
perfection. They are soft at the beginning like the roe of fish; and
as the mollusk gradually grows, they grow also and slowly harden.
Sometimes many are found in one shell, which are hard and small,
like gravel. Persons who have seen them while fishing say that they
are soft as long as they are in the sea, and that the hardness comes
to them only when they are out of the water. Pliny says as much,
speaking of the Orientals in Book IX, of his Natural History, ch.
35. But as to that author and Albert the Great and other writers
upon the generation of pearls, who have said that the oysters
conceive them by means of the dew which they suck in, and that
according as the dew is clear or cloudy the pearls also are
translucent or dark, etc., etc.,—all this is a little difficult to
believe; for daily observation shows that all the pearls found in
the same shell are not of the same excellence, nor of the same form,
the same perfection of color, nor the same size, as they would or
must be if they were conceived by the dew all at one time. Besides
this, in many of the islands the Indians go fishing for them in ten
or twelve fathoms depth, and in some cases they are so firmly
attached to the rocks in the sea that they can be wrenched off only
by main strength. Would it not be difficult for them to inhale the
quintessence of the air there? It seems then that it is the germ and
the most noble part of the eggs of the oyster which are converted
into pearls rather than any other thing; and the diversities of
size, color, and other qualities, proceed from the fact that some
are more advanced than others, as we see eggs in the body of the
hen.[46]

The old theory of dew-formed pearls was illustrated even as late as 1684
on a medal struck in honor of Elena Piscopia of the Corraro family of
Venice. This bore an oyster-shell open and receiving drops of dew, and
underneath was engraved the motto “_Rore divino_” (By divine dew). Even
yet one hears occasionally from out-of-the-way places—as in the instance
reported by the American consul at Aden—of pearls formed from rain or
dew, notwithstanding that there seems to exist absolutely no
justification for it in scientific zoölogy.

Probably the most popular theory entertained from the fifteenth to the
seventeenth century was that pearls were formed from the eggs of the
oyster. This was intimated by Chauveton in the quotation above given,
and it was also referred to by many naturalists.

In an interesting letter, dated Dec. 1, 1673, and giving as his
authority the testimony of an eye-witness, “Henricus Arnoldi, an
ingenious and veracious Dane,” Christopher Sandius wrote: “Pearl shells
in Norway do breed in sweet waters; their shells are like mussels, but
larger; the fish is like an oyster, it produces clusters of eggs; these,
when ripe, are cast out and become like those that cast them; but
sometimes it appears that one or two of these eggs stick fast to the
side of the matrix, and are not voided with the rest. These are fed by
the oyster against her will and they do grow, according to the length of
time, into pearls of different bigness.”[47] This possibly hit the mark
with greater accuracy than the observations of the “ingenious and
veracious Dane” warranted, for he seems to have had quite a different
idea as to the manner in which the pearls are “fed by the oyster against
her will” from those generally entertained by naturalists at the present
time.

However, Oliver Goldsmith settled the matter by declaring briefly:
“Whether pearls be a disease or an accident in the animal is scarce
worth enquiry.”[48] Thus it seems that notwithstanding all that had been
written and the extended attention given to the subject, theory
prevailed to the almost complete exclusion of practical investigation,
with little intelligent advance over Topsy’s “’spect they just growed.”

Owing, doubtless, to the scarcity of pearl-bearing mollusks in their
vicinities, naturalists of Europe were somewhat slow in giving attention
to the origin of pearls. This is further accounted for by the fact that
the gems occur more frequently in old and diseased shells than in the
choice specimens which have naturally attracted the notice of
conchologists.

One of the first of the original observations made on this subject was
that by Rondelet, who, in 1554, advanced the idea that pearls are
diseased concretions occurring in the mollusca, similar to the morbid
calculi in the mammalia.[49]

The first writer to intimate the similarity in structural material or
substance between pearls and the interior of the shell in which they are
formed, appears to have been Anselmus de Boot (_circa_ 1600), who wrote
that the pearls “are generated in the body of the creature of the same
humour of which the shell is formed; … for whenever the little
creature is ill and hath not strength enough to belch up or expel this
humour which sticketh in the body, it becometh the rudiments of the
pearl; to which new humour, being added and assimilated into the same
nature, begets a new skin, the continued addition of which generates a
pearl.”[50] The Portuguese traveler, Pedro Teixeira (1608), stated: “I
hold it for certain that pearls are born of and formed of the very
matter of the shell and of nothing else. This is supported by the great
resemblance of the pearl and the oyster-shell in substance and color.
Further, whatever oyster contains pearls has the flesh unsound and
almost rotten in the parts where the pearls are produced, and those
oysters that have no pearls are sound and clean fleshed.”[51]

Somewhat more than one hundred years later, this theory was confirmed by
investigations made by the famous physicist Réaumur (1683–1757).
Microscopic examination of cross sections of pearls show that they are
built up of concentric laminæ similar, except in curvature, to those
forming the nacreous portion of the shell. In a paper published by the
French Academy of Science in 1717,[52] Réaumur noted this condition, and
suggested that pearls are misplaced pieces of organized shell, and are
formed from a secretion which overflows from the shell-forming organ or
from a ruptured vessel connected therewith, and that the rupture or
overflow is ordinarily produced by the intrusion of some foreign or
irritating substance.

Sir Edwin Arnold calls attention to this theory in his beautiful lines:

Know you, perchance, how that poor formless wretch—
The Oyster—gems his shallow moonlit chalice?
Where the shell irks him, or the sea-sand frets,
He sheds this lovely lustre on his grief.

In pursuance of this idea, we find, in 1761, the Swedish naturalist
Linnæus, “the father of natural history,” experimenting in the
artificial production of pearls by the introduction of foreign bodies in
the shell, and meeting with some degree of success. His discovery was
rated so highly that it has been announced by some writers as the reason
why the great naturalist received the patent of nobility, which is
generally supposed to have been the reward for his services to science.

It seems that Linnæus’s discovery but verified the old saying that there
is nothing new under the sun, for later it was announced[53] that in
China—where so many inventions have originated—this idea had been put to
practical account for centuries preceding, and the crafty Chinaman had
succeeded in producing not only small pearly objects, but even images of
Buddha, with which to awe the disciples of that deified teacher.

The method consisted in slightly opening or boring through the shell of
the living mollusk and introducing against the soft body a small piece
of nacre, molded metal, or other foreign matter. The irritation causes
the formation of pearly layers about the foreign body, resulting, in the
course of months or of years, in a pearl-like growth. While these have
some value as objects of curiosity or of slight beauty, they are not
choice pearls, nor for that matter were those produced by Linnæus.

It will be observed that the theory of Réaumur, and also that of
Linnæus, required the intrusion of some hard substance, such as a grain
of sand, a particle of shell, etc., to constitute a nucleus of the
pearl; and this is the accepted explanation at the present time as to
the origin of many of the baroque or irregular pearls, and likewise the
pearly “blisters” and excrescences attached to the shell. But not so as
to the choice or gem pearls, those beautiful symmetrical objects of
great luster which are usually referred to in speaking of pearls.

Examinations of many of these have failed, except in rare instances, to
reveal a foreign nucleus of sand or similar inorganic substance. In
searching many fresh-water mussels, Sir Everard Home frequently met with
small pearls in the ovarium, and he further noticed that these, as well
as oriental pearls, when split into halves, often showed a brilliant
cell in the center, about equal in size to the ova of the same mollusk.
From these observations, in 1826 he deduced his “abortive ova” theory,
and announced:

A pearl is formed upon the external surface of an ovum, which,
having been blighted, does not pass with the others into the
oviduct, but remains attached to its pedicle in the ovarium, and in
the following season receives a coat of nacre at the same time that
the internal surface of the shell receives its annual supply. This
conclusion is verified by some pearls being spherical, others having
a pyramidal form, from the pedicle having received a coat of nacre
as well as the ovum.[54]

Naturalists generally accepted these conclusions, that pearls originate
in pathological secretions formed, either as the result of the intrusion
of hard substances, or by the encysting or covering of ova or other
objects of internal origin; and there was no important cleavage of
opinion until the development of the parasitic theory, as a result of
the researches of the Italian naturalist Filippi, and those following
his line of investigations. This theory is not severely in conflict with
those of Réaumur, Linnæus, Home, etc., but relates principally to the
identity of the irritating or stimulating substance which forms the
nucleus of the pearl.

In examining a species of fresh-water mussel, the _Anodonta cygnea_,
occurring in ponds near Turin, and especially the many small pearly
formations therein, Filippi observed that these were associated with the
presence of a trematode or parasitic worm, which he named _Distomum
duplicatum_, and which appears to be closely allied to the parasite
which causes the fatal “rot” or distemper in sheep. Under the
microscope, the smallest and presumably the youngest of these pearls
showed organic nuclei which appeared undoubtedly to be the remnants of
the trematode. In Anodonta from other regions, which were not infested
with the distoma, pearls were very rarely found by Filippi. In a
paper,[55] published in 1852, containing a summary of his observations,
he concluded that a leading, if not the principal, cause of
pearl-formation in those mussels was the parasite above noted; and in
later papers[56] he included such other forms as _Atax ypsilophorus_
within the list of parasitic agencies which might excite the
pearl-forming secretions, comparing their action to that of the
formation of plant-galls.

The discovery of the parasitic origin of pearls was extended to the
pearl-oysters and to other parasites by Küchenmeister[57] in 1856, by
Möbius[58] in 1857, and by several other investigators. Prominent among
these were E. F. Kelaart and his assistant Humbert, who, in 1859[59]
disclosed the important relation which the presence of vermean parasites
bears to the origin of pearls in the Ceylon oysters. These naturalists
found “in addition to the Filaria and Cercaria, three other parasitical
worms infesting the viscera and other parts of the pearl-oyster. We both
agree that these worms play an important part in the formation of
pearls.” Dr. Kelaart likewise found eggs from the ovarium of the oyster
coated with nacre and forming pearls, and also suggested that the
silicious internal skeletons of microscopic diatoms might possibly
permeate the mantle and become the nuclei of pearls. Unfortunately, Dr.
Kelaart’s investigations were terminated by his death a few months
thereafter.

In 1871, Garner ascribed the occurrence of pearls in the common English
mussel (_Mytilus edulis_) to the presence of distomid larvæ.[60]
Giard,[61] and other French zoölogists, made similar discoveries in the
case of Donax and some other bivalves. In 1901, Raphael Dubois confirmed
the observations of Garner, associating the production of pearls in the
edible mussels on the French coasts with the presence of larvæ of a
parasite, to which he gave the name of _Distomum margaritarum_, and
boldly announced: “La plus belle perle n’est donc, en définitive, que le
brillant sarcophage d’un ver.”[62]

Prof. H. L. Jameson, in 1902, disclosed the relation which exists
between pearls in English mussels (_Mytilus_) and the larvæ of _Distomum
somateriæ_.[63] The life history of this trematode, as revealed by Dr.
Jameson, is especially interesting from a biological standpoint, since
it is entertained by three hosts at different times: the first host is a
member of the duck family; the second is the Tapes clam (_Tapes
decussatus_), or perhaps the common cockle (_Cardium edule_), which
incloses the first larval stage, and the third is the edible mussel, in
which the second larval stage of the parasite stimulates the formation
of pearls. At the Brighton Aquarium and the Fish Hatchery at Kiel, Dr.
Jameson claims to have succeeded in artificially inoculating perfectly
healthy mussels with these parasites by associating them with infested
mollusks, and thereby producing small pearls.

From Dr. Jameson’s interesting paper we abridge the following account of
the manner in which the pearls are developed. The trematode enters
_Mytilus edulis_ as a tailless cercaria, and at first may often be found
between the mantle and the shell. The larvæ, after a while, enter the
connective tissue of the mantle, where they come to rest, assuming a
spherical form, visible to the naked eye as little yellowish spots about
one half millimeter in diameter. At first the worm occupies only a space
lined by connective-tissue fibrils, but soon the tissues of the host
give rise to an epithelial layer, which lines the space and ultimately
becomes the pearl-sac. If the trematode larva completes its maximum
possible term of life, it dies, and the tissues of the body break down
to form a structureless mass which retains the form of the parasite,
owing to the rigid cuticle. In this mass arise one or more centers of
calcification, and the precipitation of carbonate of lime goes on until
the whole larva is converted into a nodule with calcospheritic
structure. The granular matter surrounding the worm, if present, also
undergoes calcification. The epithelium of the sac then begins to shed a
cuticle of conchiolin, and from this point the growth of the pearl
probably takes place on the same lines and at the same rate as the
thickening of the shell.[64]

Fully as remarkable as the observations of Dr. Jameson are the results
claimed by Professor Dubois in experimenting with a species of
pearl-oyster (_M. vulgaris_) from the Gulf of Gabes on the coast of
Tunis, where they are almost devoid of pearls, a thousand or more shells
yielding on an average only one pearl. Conveying these to the coast of
France in 1903, he there associated them with a species of
trematode-infested mussel (_Mytilus gallo-provincialis_), and after a
short period they became so infested that every three oysters yielded an
average of two pearls.[65] This claim has not been without criticism;
but who ever knew scientists to agree?

In the pearl-oyster of the Gambier Islands (_M. margaritifera cumingi_),
Dr. L. G. Seurat found that the origin of pearls was due to irritation
caused by the embryo of a worm of the genus _Tylocephalum_, the life of
which is completed in the eagle-ray, a fish which feeds on the
pearl-oyster.[66]

In 1903, Prof. W. A. Herdman, who, at the instance of the colonial
government, and with the assistance of Mr. James Hornell, examined the
pearl-oyster resources of Ceylon, announced: “We have found, as Kelaart
did, that in the Ceylon pearl-oyster there are several different kinds
of worms commonly occurring as parasites, and we shall, I think, be able
to show that Cestodes, Trematodes, and Nematodes may all be concerned in
pearl formation. Unlike the case of the European mussels, however, we
find that in Ceylon the most important cause is a larval Cestode of the
Tetrarhynchus form.”[67]

In his investigation of the Placuna oyster in 1905, Mr. James Hornell
found that the origin of pearls was due to minute larva of the same
stage and species as that which causes the pearls in the Gulf of Manar
oyster.[68]

The spherical larvæ of this tapeworm sometimes occur in great abundance,
and there is evidence of forty having been found in a single
pearl-oyster. Mr. Hornell states that the living worm does not induce
pearl formation, this occurring only when death overtakes it while in
certain parts of the oyster. As a consequence, pearls are more numerous
in oysters which have been long infected, where the worms are older and
more liable to die. This parasitic worm has been traced from the
pearl-oyster to the trigger-fishes, which eat the pearl-oysters, and
thence into certain large fish-eating rays, where it becomes sexually
mature and produces embryos which enter the pearl-oyster and begin a new
cycle of life-phases.

It seems, therefore, that the latest conclusions of science appear
entirely favorable to the parasitic theory as explaining at least one,
and probably the most important, of the causes for the formation of
pearls; and that some truth exists in the statement that the most
beautiful pearl is only the brilliant sarcophagus of a worm. This
morphological change is not peculiar to mollusks, for in most animal
bodies a cyst is formed about in-wandering larvæ. Fortunately for lovers
of the beautiful, in the pearl-oysters the character of the cyst-wall
follows that of the interior lining of the shell, and not only
simulates, but far surpasses it in luster.

While the theory that pearls are caused by the intrusion of some unusual
substance has the evidence of actual demonstration in many instances,
and is unquestionably true to a large extent, yet microscopic
examination of some pearls suggests the theory that a foreign substance
is not always essential to their formation, and that they may originate
in calcareous concretions of minute size, termed “calcospherules.” As
regards their origin, Professor Herdman classifies pearls into three
sorts: (1) “Ampullar pearls,” which are not formed within closed sacs of
the shell-secreting epithelium like the others, but lie in pockets or
ampullæ of the epidermis. The nuclei may be sand-grains or any other
foreign particles introduced through breaking or perforation of the
shell. (2) “Muscle pearls,” which are analogous to gallstones, formed
around calcospherules at or near the insertion of the muscles. And (3)
“Cyst pearls,” in which concentric layers of nacre are deposited on
cysts containing parasitic worms in the connective tissue of the mantle
and within the soft tissues of the body.[69]

Even a particle of earth, clay, or mud may form the nucleus of a pearl.
This was illustrated a few years ago in a fine button-shaped pearl,
which was accidentally broken under normal usage and was found to
consist of a hard lump of white clay surrounded by a relatively thin
coating of nacre. More remarkable yet are the cases in which a minute
fish, a crayfish, or the frustule of a diatom has formed the nucleus.

Several instances have been described by Woodward, Gunther, Putnam,
Stearns, and others, where small fish have penetrated between the mantle
and the shell of the mollusk, and the latter has resented the intrusion
by covering the intruder with a pearly coating. In two or three
instances the secretion occurred in so short a time that the fish
suffered no appreciable decomposition, and its species is readily
identified by observation through the nacreous layer. Among the
remarkable specimens of this nature which have come under our
observation are two very curious shells received in March, 1907, from
the Mexican fisheries. One of these specimens shows an encysted fish, so
quickly covered and so perfectly preserved that even the scales and
small bones are in evidence; indeed, one can almost detect the gloss on
the scales of the fish; and in the other—with a remarkable comet-like
appearance—a piece of ribbed seaweed is apparently the object covered.

From the foregoing, it appears that the pearl is not a product of health
associated with undisturbed conditions, but results from a derangement
in the normal state of the mollusk. Unable to resist, to rid itself of
the opposing evil, it exercises the powers given to it by a beneficent
Creator and converts the pain into perfection, the grief into glory.
Nature has many instances of the humble and lowly raised to high degree,
but none more strikingly beautiful than this. One of the lowest of
earth’s creatures, suffering a misfortune, furnishes a wonderful lesson
upon the uses of pain and adversity by converting its affliction into a
precious gem symbolical of all that is pure and beautiful. As written by
a forgotten poet: “Forasmuch as the pearl is a product of life, which
from an inward trouble and from a fault produces purity and perfection,
it is preferred; for in nothing does God so much delight as in
tenderness and lustre born of trouble and repentance.” As the great
Persian poet Hafiz says:

Learn from yon orient shell to love thy foe,
And store with pearls the wound that brings thee woe.

IV
STRUCTURE AND FORMS OF PEARLS


“This maskellez perle that boght is dere,
The joueler gef fore alle hys gold,
Is lyke the reme of hevenes clere”;
So sayde the fader of folde and flode,
“For hit is wermlez, clene and clere,
And endelez rounde and blythe of mode,
And commune to all that ryghtwys were.”
FOURTEENTH-CENTURY MSS. OF “PEARL,”
IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

As Kadir Munshi says, “pearls have no pedigree”; their beauty is not to
be traced to their origin, but exists wholly in the excellence of the
surroundings in which they develop.

The pearl-bearing mollusks are luxurious creatures, and for the purpose
of protecting their delicate bodies they cover the interior of their
shells with a smooth lustrous material, dyed with rainbow hues, and
possessing a beautiful but subdued opalescence. No matter how foul, how
coral covered, or overgrown with sponges or seaweeds the exterior may
be, all is clean and beautiful within. This material is nacre or
mother-of-pearl. It consists ordinarily of an accumulation of extremely
thin semi-transparent films or laminæ of a granular organic substance
called conchiolin, with the interstices filled with calcareous matter.
The nacre decreases in thickness from the hinge toward the lip of the
shell, and terminates a short distance from the extreme edge.

Next to the nacre is the middle layer or the shell proper. In species of
_Margaritifera_, this stratum is commonly formed of layers of calcareous
prisms arranged vertically to the shell surface. External to this middle
or prismatic layer is the epidermis or periostracum, the rough outer
coating of varying shades, usually yellow or brown. Where the waves are
rough, and the bottom hard and rocky, this covering is thick and heavy,
to afford greater protection; but where the waters are smooth and
gentle, and the bottom free from rocks, Nature—never working in
vain—furnishes only thin sides and slight defense. As is the case with
the nacre, the prismatic layer and the periostracum decrease in
thickness from the hinge to the edge, and the inside lip of the shell
shows the gradual union of the three superimposed layers. The two outer
layers are formed by the thick edge of the mantle, the remaining
portion—or nearly the entire surface—of this organ secretes the nacral
layer.

Not only is the interior of the shell made lustrous and beautiful, but
this tendency is exerted toward all objects that come in contact with
the soft body of the mollusk, either by intrusion simply within the
shell, or deeply within the organs and tissues of the animal itself. All
foreign bodies—such as small parasites, diatoms, minute pebbles,
etc.,—irritate the tender tissues of the mollusk, and stimulate the
pearly formation which in course of time covers them. At first the
nacreous covering is very thin; but with added layer after layer the
thickness is enhanced, and the size of the object increases as long as
it remains undisturbed and the mollusk is in healthful growth.

Chemically considered, aside from the nucleus, the structure of pearls
is identical in composition with that of the nacre of the shell in which
they are formed. Analyses have shown that those from the fresh-water
mussels of England and Scotland, and from the pearl-oysters of Australia
and of Ceylon, have nearly identical composition in the proportion of
about 5.94 per cent. of organic matter, 2.34 of water, and 91.72 per
cent. of carbonate of lime.[70] The specific gravity ranges from nearly
2 to about 2.75, increasing with the deposit of the nacreous coatings.
The following summary by Von Hessling[71] shows the results of certain
determinations of specific gravity:

Authority Specific Note
Gravity

Muschenbroet 2.750 at moderate temperature

Brisson 2.684 at 14° Réaumur

Möbius 2.686 4 fine pearls, weighing 2.396 gms.

Möbius 2.650 24 pearls, weighing 6.221 gms.

Möbius 2.336 63 brown pearls from Mazatlan, weighing 4.849
gms.

Voit 2.722 Bavarian pearls, 3–3⁄16 carats, medium quality

Voit 2.616 Bavarian pearls, 3⅝ carats, finer quality

Voit 2.724 Bavarian pearls, 1¾ carats, very fine

Voit 2.578 Bavarian pearls, gray, with some luster

Voit 2.765 Bavarian pearls, brown, ranking between good &
black

Voit 2.238 Bavarian pearls, poor black pearls, impure


The distinctive characteristic, the great beauty of a true pearl, is its
luster or orient, which is a subdued iridescence, rather than the
glittering brilliance of the diamond; and unless the shelly growth be
lustrous it does not rank as a gem pearl, no matter how perfect its form
or beautiful its color. This luster is due to the structural arrangement
of the surface as well as to the quality of the material. The nacreous
material forming true pearls, and likewise mother-of-pearl, is commonly
deposited in irregular tenuous layers, very thin and very small in area
compared with the surface of the pearl. These laminæ overlap one
another, the surfaces are microscopically crumpled and corrugated, and
the edges form serrated outlines. The greater the angle which the laminæ
form with the surface, the closer will be these serrated outlines, and
where the plane of the exterior lamina is parallel with the plane of the
surface the lines are not present. This arrangement causes the waves of
light to be reflected from different levels on the surface, just as in a
soap bubble, and the minute prisms split the rays up into their colored
constituents, producing the chromatic or iridescent effect.

The cause is wholly mechanical, and an impression of the surface made in
very fine wax shows a similar iridescence. Also, if a piece of
mother-of-pearl be immersed in acid until the surface lime or shelly
matter is dissolved, the pellucid membrane shows the iridescence until
it is so compressed that the corrugations are reduced. About two score
years ago an Englishman invented steel buttons with similar minute
corrugations producing pearly effect, but the manufacture was
unprofitable, owing, principally, to their liability to tarnish.

In the shells of some mollusks—as the edible oysters (_Ostrea_) or the
giant clam (_Tridacna_),—there is almost a total absence of the crumpled
corrugated laminæ, and, consequently, there is little luster. In others
the nacre is of better quality, resulting in superior orient, and it
probably reaches its highest degree of perfection in the pearl-oyster
(_Margaritifera_).

As the curvature of the surface of pearls is greater, and the minute
striæ are more numerous, than in ordinary mother-of-pearl, it follows
that the iridescence is likewise greater.

Superior nacre is more or less translucent, depending on its quality;
and to the iridescence of the outer laminæ is added that of many
interior ones, so that the luster is vastly increased. The position of
the pearl within the shell may greatly affect the quality of the
material and, consequently, the orient. The choicest are commonly found
within the soft parts of the animal, and those of poorer quality are at
the edges of the mantle, or within the fibers of the adductor muscle of
bivalves.

The structure of pearls may be studied by examining thin cross sections
under the microscope, or by transmitted polarized light. It appears that
ordinarily a pearl is made up of many independent laminæ superimposed
one upon another “like the layers of an onion,” or, rather, resembling
the leaves near the upper part of a well formed cabbage. When subjected
to sufficient heat, the laminæ separate from each other, as do shells of
edible oysters and similar mollusks under like conditions. When broken
by a hammer, a pearl may exhibit this laminated formation. If not split
directly through the center, the central section may retain the
spherical form; and as this commonly remains attached to one of the
parts, its concave impression appears in the other portion of the broken
pearl. The outer laminæ of many pearls may be removed with a fair
prospect of finding a good subjacent surface, and this may be continued
until the size is greatly reduced. These laminæ are not always similar
in color or luster.

However, not all pearls are laminated in this manner. Instead of
superimposed layers, some of them exhibit a crystalline form, composed
of beautiful prismatic crystals radiating from the center to the
circumference. In at least one oriental pearl examined, these crystals
were in well defined arcs, and were further separated into concentric
rings of different degrees of thickness, depth of color, and distance
apart. Another specimen—a Scotch pearl—combined in separate layers both
the laminated form and the crystalline structure.

Dr. Harley points out that some crystalline pearls apparently originate
in mere coalescences of mineral particles, rather than in well defined
nuclei.[72] Microscopic sections of crystalline pearls convey the idea
that the prisms branch and interlace with one another, and also that in
some instances they are of fusiform shape. However, these appearances
seem to be due simply to the cross sections having cut the prisms at
different angles.

Pearls showing these types were exhibited at a meeting of the Royal
Society of London, June 8, 1887. That exhibit also contained a section
of a west Australian pearl of curiously complex crystalline formation;
instead of one central starting-point, it had more than a dozen
scattered about, from which the crystalline prisms radiated in all
directions.

Since the three superimposed layers of the shell are secreted by
separate parts of the mantle, _viz._, the nacre by the general surface,
the prismatic layer by the inner edge, and the epidermis by the outer
edge, it follows that if a pearl in course of formation is moved from
one of these distinctive portions of the palial organ to another, the
nature of its laminæ changes. Thus, if a pearl formed on the broad
surface of the mantle is moved in some way to the inner edge of that
organ, it may be covered with a prismatic layer; if then moved to the
outer edge it may receive a lamina of epidermis, and then by changing
again to the broad surface of the mantle it receives further coats of
nacre.

The structure of pearls from univalve mollusks, such as the conch, the
abalone, etc., as well as those from some bivalves, as the Pinna, for
instance, differs from that of the true pearls formed in species of
Margaritifera. Instead of the alternate layers of conchiolin and of
carbonate of lime, many of these have an alveolar structure. When
greatly magnified, the surface of a Pinna pearl appears to be formed of
very small polygones, which, as decalcification shows, are the bases of
small pyramids radiating from the nucleus. The walls of these pyramids
are formed of conchiolin, and they are filled with carbonate of lime of
a prismatic crystalline structure. This is simply a modification of the
parallel laminæ in the Margaritifera pearls, for, as Dubois points out,
in some sections we can see portions where the alveolar formation has
proceeded for a time coincidentally with the lamellar form.

Pearls are affected by acids and fetid gases, and may be calcined on
exposure to heat. Their solubility in vinegar was referred to by the
Roman architect Vitruvius (“De Architectura,” L. viii. c. 3) and also by
Pausanias, a Greek geographer in the second century (“Hellados
Periegesis,” L. viii, c. 18); but it seems that there could be little
foundation for Pliny’s well-known anecdote in which Cleopatra is
credited with dissolving a magnificent pearl in vinegar and drinking
it—“the ransom of a kingdom at a draught”—to the health of her lover
Antony.[73] It is no more easy to dissolve a pearl in vinegar than it is
to dissolve a pearl-button—for the composition is similar, and one may
easily experiment for himself as to the difficulty in doing this. Not
only does it take many days to dissolve in cold vinegar the mineral
elements of a pearl of fair size, but even with boiling vinegar it
requires several hours to extract the mineral matter from one four or
five grains in weight, the acid penetrating to the interior very slowly.
And in neither case can the pearl be made to disappear, for even after
the carbonate of lime has dissolved, the organic matrix of animal
matter—which is insoluble in vinegar—retains almost the identical shape,
size, and appearance as before. If the pearl is first pulverized, it
becomes readily soluble in vinegar, and might be thus drunk as a lover’s
potion, but it would scarcely prove a _bonne bouche_.

Pearls assume an almost infinite variety of forms, due largely to the
shapes of the nuclei, and also to their positions within the mollusk.
The most usual—and, fortunately, also the most valuable—is the
spherical, resulting from a very minute or a round body as a nucleus and
the uniform addition of nacre on all sides. Of course, spherical pearls
can result only where they are quite free from other hard substances;
consequently they originate only in the soft parts of the mollusk and
not by the fixation of some nucleus to the interior surface of the
shell.

The perfectly spherical pearls range in weight from a small fraction of
a grain to three hundred grains or more, but it is very, very rare that
one of choice luster weighs more than one hundred grains. The largest of
which we have any specific information was that among the French crown
jewels as early as the time of Napoleon, an egg-shaped pearl, weighing
337 grains. The largest pearl known to Pliny in the first century A.D.
weighed “half a Roman ounce and one scruple over,” or 234½ grains Troy.
These very large ones, weighing in excess of one hundred grains, are
called “paragons.” The small pearls—weighing less than half a grain
each—are known as “seed-pearls.” The very small ones, weighing less than
1⁄25 of a grain, are called “dust-pearls.” These are too small to be of
economic value as ornaments.

Slight departures from the perfect sphere, result in egg shapes, pear
shapes, drop shapes, pendeloque, button shapes, etc. Some of these are
valued quite as highly at the present time as the spherical pearls, and
many of the most highly prized pearls in the world are of other than
spherical form. Indeed, pearls of this kind are found of larger size
than the perfectly round pearls. The egg-shaped pearl,[74] called “la
Régente,”—one of the French crown jewels sold in May, 1887—weighed, as
stated above, 337 grains. The great pear pearl described by
Tavernier—“the largest ever discovered”—weighed about 500 grains. A
button pearl received from Panama in 1906 weighed 216 grains.

Wider departures from the spherical form result in cylindrical, conical,
top-shaped, etc. Some pearls present the appearance of having been
turned in a lathe with intricate tooling. Remarkable examples of these
“turned pearls” have been found, competing in their circular perfection
with the best work of a jeweler’s lathe.

Many standard varieties of non-spherical, but normally shaped pearls,
are recognized by the fishermen and the jewelers. For instance, in the
nomenclature of the American fishermen, _bouton_, or button pearls are
divided into “haystacks” and “turtle-backs,” according to the height of
the projection. Also, certain imperfections result in distinguishing
names: “bird’s-eye” refers to a pearl having a little imperfection on
the best surface; “ring-arounds” have a dark or discolored ring about
them; and “strawberries” have numerous minute projections on the
surface.

During its growth, a spherical pearl may come in contact with a foreign
body, such as grit or a vegetable film, and the additional nacral layers
envelop the adjacent matter until it is entirely concealed within the
pearl, its position being recognized only by the excrescence on one
side, and, with continued increase in size, even this may be almost
overcome.

Sometimes double, triple, or multiple pearls are formed; each of these
may have a separate nucleus and grow independently for a time until they
adjoin each other; continuing to grow, they become so united as to form
a connected mass. The “Southern Cross” is a remarkable example of this.
It appears to consist of seven nearly spherical pearls attached to one
another in a straight line, and one projecting from each side of the
second in the row, thus forming a Roman cross.[75]

A few years ago, near Sharks Bay, on the coast of western Australia, a
cluster was found containing about 150 pearls closely compacted. This
cluster measured about one and a half inches in length, three quarters
of an inch in breadth, and half an inch in thickness.

When a growing pearl is very near to the nacreous lining of the shell,
the pressure between the two hard substances results in a rupture of the
pearl-forming sac and the epithelial layer of the shell, and the pearl
comes in actual contact with the nacre. The pearl gradually becomes
attached to the shell, and the under portion is prevented from growing
further; the upper or exposed surface receives other layers, resulting
in the formation of a _bouton_. As the shell around the pearl continues
to grow, it gradually closes about, and almost wholly conceals the
pearl. Since it is constantly wasting away on the exterior surface as it
grows on the interior, it follows that in time the shell passes the
pearl quite through to the outside, where it rapidly decays. Thus the
oyster virtually forces the annoying intruder directly through the wall
of its house instead of by way of the open door, and magically closes
the breach with its marvelous masonry.

These embedded pearls are generally faulty and of diminished luster,
but in the aggregate, large quantities of imperfect ones, and
especially half and quarter pearls, are secured in this manner.
Sometimes—particularly in the Australian fisheries—large pearls are
thus found, weighing twenty, forty, sixty, and even eighty grains; and
when the faulty outside layers of nacre are removed, a subjacent
surface of fine luster may possibly be revealed. In bivalves, these
adherent pearls are commonly in the deep or lower valve, except in
those unusual cases where the mollusks have been lying in a reverse
position. At the fisheries, the surfaces of the shells are carefully
inspected for evidence of pearly nodules, and these are broken open in
search for encysted objects. Cutters of mother-of-pearl occasionally
find embedded pearls of this kind which have escaped the vigilant eyes
of the fishermen.

We read of an instance in an important paper treating of the jeweling
trade of Birmingham: “A few years since [the paper was written in 1866]
a small lot of shells was brought to Birmingham, which either from
ignorance or mistake had not been cleared of the pearls at the fishery.
A considerable number were found and sold, and one especially was sold
by the man who had bought the shell for working into buttons, for £40.
The purchaser, we believe, resold the same for a profit of £160; and we
have heard that it was afterward held in Paris for sale at £800.”

A choice gem which was found in New York, in October, 1905, in an
Australian shell, sold finally for $1200.

The intrusion and continued presence of grains of sand or similar
material between the mantle and the shell causes the formation of nacre
over the foreign body, resulting in a _chicot_ (blister pearl), or
possibly a quarter or a half-pearl. The growth of a _chicot_ sometimes
results from the mollusk covering a choice pearl which has become
loosened from the soft tissues and adheres to the shell, as above cited.
Hence, it is sometimes desirable to break a _chicot_ to secure its more
valuable inclosure. In the account of his interesting pearling
experiences on the Australian coast, Henry Taunton states: “During the
first season’s shelling at Roebuck Bay, we came across an old worm-eaten
shell containing a large blister, which was removed in the usual manner
by punching a ring of minute holes around its base; a slight tap was
then sufficient to detach it. For many weeks it was untouched, no one
caring to risk opening it, for if filled with black ooze, which is
frequently the case, it would be of little value. At last, baffled in
his attempt to solve the problem, and emboldened by an overdose of
‘square face,’ the skipper gave it a smart blow with a hammer, which
cracked it open, and out rolled a huge pearl, nearly perfect, and
weighing eighty grains. A few specks and discolorations were removed by
a skilful ‘pearl-faker,’ and it was sold in London for £1500.”[76]

Blister pearls are also caused by the defensive or protective action of
the mollusk in resisting the intrusion of some animal, as a boring
sponge or a burrowing worm, which has begun to penetrate the outer
layers of the shell. This stimulation causes the mollusk to pile
nacreous material upon the spot, thus making a substantial mound closely
resembling a segment of a large pearl. This walling-out of intruders is
not the result of intelligent forethought or of instinct, analogous to
the repairing of a damaged web by a spider, or the retunneling of a
collapsed gallery by ants; it is a pathological rather than an
intelligent action.

When the nucleus of a pearl is large and very irregular, it necessarily
follows that the deposited nacre roughly assumes the irregular outline
of the inclosed object. This is strikingly shown in pearls covering a
minute fish, a crayfish, or a small crab. Several specimens have been
found in which the species could be identified by examination through
the nacreous coating.

In the American Unios there is a strong tendency to produce elongated
pearls near the hinge of the shell, which are consequently known as
“hinge pearls.” The occurrence and form of these suggest that their
origin may not be due to nuclei, but that they result from an excess of
carbonate of lime in the water, and that the animal stores a surplus of
nacre in this convenient form. There are several standard forms of these
hinge pearls. Many are elongated or dog-toothed, some are hammer-shaped,
others resemble the wings of birds, the petals of flowers, the bodies of
fish, and various other objects. A large percentage of the pearls found
in Unios of the Mississippi Valley are of these types.

Some irregular pearls or baroques are very large, weighing an ounce or
more. A well-known example is the Hope pearl, described on page 463,
which weighs three ounces. These monster pearls sometimes assume odd
shapes, such as clasped hands, the body of a man, lion, or other animal,
etc.

Although baroques may have a pearly luster, they are not highly prized
unless unusually attractive, and they have little permanent value, apart
from their estimation in the eyes of admirers of the curious and unique.
They are used largely in _l’art nouveau_, and in forming odd and
fanciful objects of jewelry, the designer taking advantage of the
resemblance which they bear to common objects of every-day life, and by
additions of gold and other ornaments completing the form which nature
had merely suggested.

Some remarkable examples of baroque mountings have been produced, and a
few are to be found in most of the large pearl collections. In a single
case in the Imperial Treasury at Vienna are baroques forming the
principal parts or figures of a horse, stag, lamb, tortoise, lizard,
cock, dragon, butterfly, gondola, hippopotamus, female bust, and three
mermaids. Other well-known collections are those of the royal family of
Saxony in the Grüne Gewölbe at Dresden; those in the Palace of Rosenberg
at Copenhagen; in the Waddesden (Rothschild) collection of the British
Museum; among the jewels in the Louvre in Paris; with the treasures of
the Basilica of St. Mark in Venice; and in the museum of the University
of Moscow.

A remarkable pearl-like ornament more common in Asia than in the
Occident, is the _coque de perle_, which is an oval section of the
globose whorl of the Indian nautilus. The exterior or convex surface is
highly lustrous, but the material is very thin. It is commonly provided
with a suitable filling or backing of putty or cement to impart
solidity, and is used like a blister pearl. Sometimes two perfectly
matched _coques de perle_ are filled and cemented together, giving the
appearance of an abnormally large oblong or nearly spherical pearl.

The color of pearls has no connection with the luster. In general it is
the same as that of the shell in which they are formed. Black pearls are
found in the black shells of Mexico, and pink pearls in the pink-hued
_Strombus_ of the Bahamas. Ceylon pearls are seldom of any other color
than white, and Sharks Bays are almost invariably quite yellow or
straw-colored, while those of Venezuela are commonly yellowish tinged.
But from other localities, pearls simulate every tint of the rainbow, as
well as white and black. The most common, as well as the most desirable
ordinarily, is white, or rather, silvery or moonlight glint,—“_la gran
Margherita_,” as Dante calls it; but yellow, pink, and black are
numerous. They may also be piebald—a portion white and the rest pink or
brown or black. Some years ago there was on the market a large
bean-shaped pearl of great luster, one half of which was white and the
other quite black, the dividing-line being sharply defined in the plane
of the greatest circumference. The pearls from Mexico, the South Sea
islands, and the American rivers are especially noted for their great
variety of coloration, covering every known tint and shade, and
requiring such a master as Théophile Gautier to do justice to them.

Many theories have been advanced to explain the coloration of pearls.
When the old idea of dew formation prevailed, it was considered that
white pearls were formed in fair weather, and the dark ones when the
weather was cloudy. It was further considered that the color was
influenced by the depth of the water in which they grew: that in deep
water they were white, but where it was so shallow that the sunlight
easily penetrated, the pearls were more likely to be dark in color.
Tavernier curiously explained that the black pearls of Panama and Mexico
owed their color to the black mud in which the pearl-oysters of those
localities lived, and that Persian Gulf pearls were more inclined to
yellow than those of Ceylon, owing to the greater putrefaction of the
flesh before they were removed therefrom.[77] Two centuries ago the
color of a pearl was attributed to that of the central nucleus, and it
was concluded that if the nucleus was dark, the pearl would be of a
similar hue.[78] This theory has also been upset, for pearls are found
white on the exterior and quite dark within, and also with these
conditions reversed.

The color of a pearl is determined by that of the conchiolin, as appears
from its remaining unchanged after decalcification. While generally it
is the same as that of the mother-of-pearl at the corresponding point of
the shell in which it is formed, there are many exceptions to this, and
the reasons for the varying tints and colors are probably to be found in
the changes in position of the pearl, the ingredients of the water, the
health of the mollusk, accidents of various kinds, etc. These factors
will be referred to later in discussing the pearls from different
mollusks and regions; but in general it is no more easy to explain the
colors of pearls than it is to say why one rose is white and another is
yellow.

Medieval writers had much to say regarding unripe or immature pearls,
likening them to eggs in the body of a hen, which follow a uniform rate
of growth; and this idea is not entirely absent even in contemporaneous
writings. However, it is an interesting fact that the humble mollusks,
like the five wise virgins with prepared lamps, keep their gems perfect
in beauty and luster at all times. It matters not whether the pearl be
removed when it is only the size of a pinhead or not until it reaches
that of a marble, it is at all times a complete, a ripe, a perfect
pearl, and the largest surpasses the smallest only in the
characteristics and properties which are incidental to size. Imparting
perfection and completion every day, every moment, the mollusk utilizes
the added time simply in enlarging its beautiful work.

Although art has made wonderful progress in that direction, the pearl,
like truth, is not easily imitated. There is as much difference between
the ubiquitous imitations and the perfect gem as there is between a
chromolithograph and a silvery Corot, or between the effects of
cosmetics and the freshness of youth. While to the unskilled, or under
superficial inspection, the false has some of the properties of the
genuine, it is only necessary to place them side by side to make the
difference apparent. However clever the imitation may be in color, in
form, and in density, it always lacks in richness, in sweetness, and in
blended iridescence.

V
SOURCES OF PEARLS

Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house, as your
pearl in your foul oyster.

_As You Like It_, Act V, sc. 4.


In geographic range, the sources of pearls are widely distributed, each
one of the six continents yielding its quota; but the places where
profitable fisheries are prosecuted are restricted in area. First in
point of value, and possibly of antiquity also, are the fisheries of the
Persian Gulf, giving employment ordinarily to thirty thousand or more
divers. The yield in the likewise ancient fisheries of the Gulf of
Manaar is uncertain, but sometimes remarkably large. The Red Sea
resources are now of slight importance compared with their extent in the
time of the Ptolemies. Other Asiatic fisheries are in the Gulf of Aden,
about Mergui Archipelago, on the coast of China, Japan, Korea, and Siam,
and also in the rivers of China, Manchuria, and Siberia.

Aside from those produced in the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden, the pearl
fisheries of Africa are of small extent. Some reefs exist on the lower
coast of the German East African territory and also in Portuguese East
Africa, but they have not been thoroughly exploited.

In most of the inshore waters of Australasia pearls may be secured; the
fisheries are most extensive on the northern coast of Australia, in the
Sulu Archipelago, and about the Dutch East Indies. Tuamotu Archipelago,
Gambier, Fiji, and Penrhyn are prominent in the South Pacific Ocean.

In the seas of Europe few pearls have been found, but the rivers have
yielded many; and although the resources have been greatly impaired,
many beautiful gems are yet found there.

South America contributes the important reefs on the coast of
Venezuela—the land of unrest and revolutions, whose fisheries were first
exploited by Columbus. Other South American countries in which pearls
are collected are Panama, Ecuador, Peru, etc. In North America, pearls
are found in the pearl-oyster of the Gulf of California, the abalone of
the Pacific coast, the queen conch of the Gulf of Mexico, and in the
Unios of most of the rivers, especially those of the Mississippi Valley.

Since pearly concretions partake of the characteristics of the shell
within which they are formed, it follows that practically all species of
mollusks whose shells have a well-developed nacreous lining yield pearls
to a greater or less extent. But the number of these species is
relatively small. They belong chiefly to the _Margaritiferæ_, or
pearl-oyster family of the sea, and to the _Unionidæ_, or family of
fresh-water mussels. Pearls occur also in some univalves, but not so
abundantly as in bivalves of the families mentioned. Broadly stated, we
may hope to find pearls within any mollusk whose shell possesses a
nacreous surface; and it is useless to search for them in shells whose
interior is dull and opaque, such as the edible oyster for instance.

The great bulk of the pearls on the market, and likewise those of the
highest quality, are from the _Margaritiferæ_, which are widely
distributed about tropical waters. Although these mollusks are spoken of
as pearl-oysters, they are not related in any way to the edible oysters
(_Ostrea_) of America and Europe.[79] The flesh is fat and glutinous,
and so rank in flavor as to be almost unfit for food, although eaten at
times by the poorer fishermen in lieu of better fare. The origin of the
name is doubtless due to the fact that in the somewhat circular form of
the shell they resemble oysters rather than the elongated mussels of
Europe, to which they are more nearly related in anatomy. Also in
that—like their namesakes—they are monomyarian, having only one adductor
muscle.

The two valves or sides of the pearl-oyster shell are nearly similar in
shape and almost equal in size; whereas in the edible oysters one valve
is thin and somewhat flat, while the other is thicker, larger, and
highly convex. In the latter, also, the hinge, or umbo, is an angular
beak; but in the pearl-oysters the umbo is prolonged by so-called ears
or wings into a straight line the length of which is nearly equal to the
breadth of the shell.

The byssus, or bunch of fibers, by which pearl-oysters attach themselves
to the bottom indicates their relationship to the mussels. The
possession of a small foot and somewhat extended migratory powers—at
least in the first years of growth—also distinguish them from the
sedentary edible oysters. But from an economic point of view, the
principal difference is the possession of a thick, nacreous, interior
lining in the shells of pearl-oysters, which is wholly lacking in the
edible species. Like their namesakes, the pearl-oysters are exceedingly
fertile, a single specimen numbering its annual increase by millions.

Commercially considered, the pearl-oysters are roughly divisible into
two groups, (1) those fished exclusively for the pearls which they
contain, and (2) those whose shells are so thick as to give them
sufficient value to warrant their capture independently of the yield of
pearls. The best examples of the first group are the pearl-oysters of
Ceylon and of Venezuela, and to a less extent those of the Persian Gulf,
the coast of Japan, and of Sharks Bay, on the Australian coast. Of the
second group, the pearl-oysters of Torres Straits and of the Malay
Archipelago are the most prominent members. Between these two groups are
the many species and varieties whose shells and pearls are more evenly
divided with respect to value, including those of Mexico, Panama, the
Red Sea, the South Sea islands, etc.

Some conchologists recognize a large number of species of
_Margaritiferæ_, while other authorities consider many of these as local
variations of the same species. There is much difference in the size,
color, and markings of the shells in different localities, owing to
varying geographical and physical conditions. The distinction of species
and the nomenclature herein adopted are those of Dr. H. L. Jameson, who
has recently revised and rearranged the collection of shells belonging
to this family in the British Museum of Natural History,[80] and to whom
we are indebted for descriptive notes relative to several of the
species.

The greatest pearl-producer in the family of pearl-oysters is the
_Margaritifera vulgaris_ of the Gulf of Manaar and the Persian Gulf, and
to a much less extent of the Red Sea. It occurs in various other inshore
waters of the Indian Ocean, and about the Malay Archipelago and the
coast of Australia and New Guinea, although it is not the principal
pearl-oyster of those waters. An interesting account of its immigration
into the Mediterranean Sea through the Suez Canal was given by Vassel in
1896.[81]

This species is quite small, averaging two and a half inches in diameter
in Ceylon waters, and somewhat more in the Persian Gulf, whence large
quantities of the shell are exported under the name of “Lingah shell.”
The Ceylon variety has the nacreous lining almost uniformly white over
the entire surface, only the lip having a slightly pinkish ground color.
The exterior is marked by seven or eight reddish brown radial bands on a
pale yellow ground. In addition to its greater size, the Persian variety
is darker, and the lip of the shell has a reddish tinge.

For centuries the _Margaritifera vulgaris_ has sustained the great pearl
fisheries of Ceylon, India, and Persia, and at present yields the bulk
of pearls on the market, especially the seed-pearls and also those of
medium size. It produces relatively few large ones, rarely exceeding
twelve grains in weight. These pearls are commonly silvery white, and
for their size command the highest prices, because of their beautiful
form and superior luster. Excepting the Venezuelan species, this is the
only pearl-oyster which at present supports extensive fisheries
exclusively for pearls; in the fisheries for all other species the value
of the shells furnishes considerable revenue, and in some localities
this represents several times as much as the income from the pearls.

Ranking next to _Margaritifera vulgaris_ in extent of pearl production
is the _Margaritifera margaritifera_, which is widely distributed about
the tropical inshore waters of the Pacific and Indian oceans. It is very
much larger than the Lingah oyster, good specimens measuring seven or
eight inches in diameter, and the nacreous interior is usually of a
darker color. In addition to its yield of pearls, the shell of this
species is of value in the mother-of-pearl trade, and contributes
largely to the economic results of the fisheries. Indeed, in several
regions the shell is of more value than the pearls, which represent only
an incidental yield. As Jameson notes, the color and markings of the
shell, though extremely variable, generally suffice to distinguish this
species. The ground color of the exterior ranges through various shades
from yellowish brown to very dark brown. Its characteristic markings
consist of from ten to eighteen radial rows of white and yellow spots,
running from the umbo, or hinge, to the margin.

Several varieties of _Margaritifera margaritifera_ are recognized. The
type species occurs along the north coast of Australia, from Brisbane on
the east to Sharks Bay on the west; on the New Guinea coast; at Formosa;
and about many of the islands of the Pacific. The well-known “black lip
shell” of Australian waters is of this species; it shows a greenish
black on the margin of the nacre. The yield of this is very small
compared with that of the large pearl-oyster of Australia.

The _Margaritifera margaritifera_ occurs on the eastern coast of Arabia
in two varieties, which differ somewhat from the type species. These
have been designated by Jameson as _M. margaritifera persica_ and _M.
margaritifera erythræensis_. These are much larger than the Lingah shell
of the Persian Gulf, but are smaller than the Australian species. The
percentage of pearls in them is less than in the Lingah species, but
from a commercial point of view this is to some extent offset by the
greater value of the shell. The _M. m. persica_ is more numerous in the
gulf than the _M. m. erythræensis_, and large quantities of the shell
are marketed in Europe. Formerly the shipments were made principally by
way of Bombay, hence the shell is known in the mother-of-pearl trade as
“Bombay shell.” The exterior is of a light grayish or greenish brown
color, with yellowish white radial bands. The nacre has a slightly
roseate tint, and the margin is greenish yellow. The pearls found herein
are more yellowish in color and attain a larger size than those from the
Lingah oyster.

The _M. m. erythræensis_ occurs also in the Red Sea and along the shores
of the Arabian Sea. Among mother-of-pearl dealers it is known as
“Egyptian shell” or “Alexandria shell,” owing to the fact that prior to
the opening of the Suez Canal shipments were commonly made by way of
Alexandria. The color of the nacre is darker than that of its related
variety in the Persian Gulf. In the trade, three grades of this shell
are recognized, classed according to the shade of color. The lightest
comes from Massowah and near the southern end of the Red Sea, and the
darkest from farther north, in the vicinity of Jiddah and Suakim.

The islands of the southern Pacific, and of eastern Polynesia
especially, yield another variety of _M. margaritifera_, to which the
name _M. m. cumingi_ has been given. The nacre is of a dark metallic
green, and in the mother-of-pearl trade the shell is designated as
“black-edged.” It attains a large size, only slightly smaller than the
large Australian species; many individual specimens measure ten inches
in diameter, and weigh six or seven pounds for the two valves. Belonging
to this variety are those oysters whose shells are known in the markets
of Europe and America as “Tahiti,” “Gambier,” and “Auckland” shells, the
name designating the port of shipment.

Yet another subspecies, the _M. m. mazatlanica_, occurs on the coasts of
Panama and Mexico, and especially in the Gulf of California. This is
likewise green-edged, and the exterior color is yellow or light brown.
This shell has been marketed in quantities since 1850, and is known in
the mother-of-pearl trade as “Panama shell.” It is smaller than the
Australian species, specimens rarely exceeding eight inches in diameter.
It yields a large percentage of the black pearls that have been so
fashionable in the last fifty years.

Since 1870, the largest pearls have been found mainly in a very large
species of pearl-oyster, _Margaritifera maxima_, obtained off the north
and west coasts of Australia, among the Sulu Islands, and elsewhere in
the Malay Archipelago. In the fisheries for this species, the
mother-of-pearl is the principal object sought, and the pearls are
obtained incidentally. It is the largest of all the members of this
family, reaching in exceptional cases twelve or thirteen inches in
diameter, and weighing upward of twelve pounds; while the Ceylon oyster
rarely exceeds four ounces in weight. So marked is this difference, that
the Australian species is often designated the “mother-of-pearl oyster,”
and the Ceylon species the “pearl-oyster.” Jameson notes that it differs
from the _Margaritifera margaritifera_, its nearest competitor in size,
in its much longer hinge, its shape, its lesser convexity, and in its
color and markings. As described by him, the color ranges from pale
yellowish brown to deep brown, with traces of radial markings of dark
brown, green, or red in the umbonal area. In its marginal region, the
shell is marked by a series of circumferential lines about one third of
a millimeter apart.

Several geographical varieties of this species are recognized in the
mother-of-pearl trade, differing principally in the coloring of the
interior surface. The chief commercial varieties are “Sydney” or
“Queensland,” “Port Darwin,” “West Australian,” “New Guinea,” “Manila,”
“Macassar,” and “Mergui.” The nacre of those from the Australian coast
is almost uniformly silvery white. That of the “Manila shell” is
characterized by a broad golden border surrounding the silvery white
nacre. The “Macassar shell” lacks the golden border of the “Manila
shell,” and is similar in its uniform whiteness to the “Sydney shell,”
but its iridescence is much greater.

The _Margaritifera carcharium_, from Sharks Bay, on the coast of
Australia, yields yellow pearls and small quantities of mother-of-pearl.
This species is small—three or four inches in diameter. The color is
grayish or greenish yellow, with several somewhat indistinct radial
bands of brownish green. The nacre has a yellowish green tint, with a
margin of pale yellow, with brown markings.

In the West Indies and on the Atlantic coast of tropical America,
especially the coast of Venezuela, occurs the _Margaritifera radiata_.
This species is quite small, and seems to be closely allied to the
Ceylon oyster. Like the latter, the nacreous interior is rich and
brilliant, but owing to its small size, the shell is wholly valueless as
mother-of-pearl. The principal and almost the only fishery for this
species is on the Venezuelan coast, in the vicinity of Margarita Island,
the islands of Cubagua, and Coche.

The coast of Japan yields the _Margaritifera martensi_, which occurs
among the numerous islands in the southern part of the empire, but does
not extend beyond 40° north latitude. This species is likewise small,
and closely resembles the pearl-oyster of Ceylon, from which it differs
principally in coloration. As noted by Jameson, brown and white
predominate in the exterior coloring, and the interior of the lip is
marbled with yellow ocher and chocolate brown, instead of pink, as in
the Ceylon shell.

There are numerous other species of pearl-oysters, but they are of
slight economic importance, and do not support fisheries of value.

As only a small percentage of the individual mollusks contain pearls, it
follows that vast quantities are destroyed without any return whatever,
and handling them merely adds to the expense of the industry, as well as
reduces the resources of the reefs. This could be obviated if it were
possible, without opening them, to determine the individual mollusks
containing pearls.

Among the several methods proposed for this purpose, especially
interesting is the use of X-rays, which was suggested by Raphael Dubois
of Lyons, France, in 1901.[82] The shells of some pearl-oysters—those of
Ceylon and of Venezuela for instance—are relatively thin, and it was
thought that by the means of the rays the presence of pearls could be
ascertained, and non-pearl-bearers could be saved from opening, and be
returned to the reefs without injury. Although the calcareous shell
partly interrupts the radiations, it is not difficult to recognize the
presence of large pearls.

The theory has never been found practical in application, owing largely
to the rough and irregular exterior of the shell and the small size of
the pearls. The presence of the larger pearls may be ascertained by this
method; but it is exceedingly probable that a very large percentage of
the small ones, and especially the seed-pearls, would be overlooked.
Furthermore, if in their sixth year oysters contain no pearls, the
probability of appearance therein later is very small, and little
benefit would result from their return to the water. As to saving the
trouble of opening the non-pearl-bearing mollusks, labor in the pearling
regions is usually inexpensive, and this cost is far more than offset by
the reasonable certainty of securing practically all the small as well
as the large pearls by the present method of operation. Owing to the
greater thickness and the economic value of the large pearl-oysters—as
those of Australia or of Mexico, for instance—the application of X-rays
to them is obviously impractical. However, when pearl-oyster culture
becomes a highly developed industry, with personal ownership in those
mollusks returned to the water, some method such as this might be of
great value.

Pearls are yielded by various species of _Unionidæ_ or _Naiades_
occurring in the rivers of America, Scotland, Saxony, Bavaria, Norway,
Sweden, Russia, France, China, etc. These mollusks exist exclusively in
the fresh-water streams, lakes, and ponds, and quickly die when
submerged in salt water. The _Unionidæ_ are of particular interest in
America, as it is here that this group is most abundant, and nearly
every stream east of the Rocky Mountains contains more or less of them.
The Mississippi basin abounds in Unios, or “clams,” as they are known to
the fishermen of that region, and furnishes about 400 of the 1000
recognized species of this important family.

The Unios are most abundant in clear, running water, where the bottom is
gravelly or sandy. The interiors of the shells are iridescent, and vary
greatly in tint, exhibiting many delicate shades of color from silvery
white to straw color, pink, purple, brown, etc.

About five hundred species of American fresh-water mussels have been
recognized by conchologists. Many of these differ from one another so
very slightly that they are scarcely distinguishable from an examination
of the shells themselves, or even from the descriptions, and a detailed
index to the complete list is of little economic importance. The
professional fishermen and the shell-buyers take the trouble to name
only the species with which they deal, which includes only about
twenty-five species, all of which are margaritiferous, though some to a
greater extent than others. In the pearling regions a popular
nomenclature exists, the names given by the fishermen having reference
to the shape, color, etc.

The niggerhead (_Quadrula ebena_) is the most numerous in the
Mississippi, and it is extensively used in button manufacture. The thick
shell of this species is almost round, with a black outer surface and a
pearly white interior. At maturity it averages about four inches in
diameter and four ounces in weight. Owing to its uniform whiteness and
the flatness of its surface, it is well adapted to button manufacture,
and for this purpose more than twenty thousand tons are taken in the
Mississippi Valley every year. When the fishery originated, the
niggerhead was very abundant in some places, and especially between La
Crosse and Burlington. From a single bed near New Boston, Illinois,
measuring about 200 acres in area, 7500 tons, or about 70,000,000
individual shells, were removed in three years. In 1897, a bed of 320
acres near Muscatine furnished 500 tons, or about 4,750,000 shells. This
species occasionally yields valuable pearls.

Two species of Unios, _Quadrula undulata_ and _Q. plicata_, are known
among the fishermen as “three-ridges.” The former is also known as the
“blue-point” from the fact that the sharp edge is usually tinged faint
blue on the inside. Although not the best for button manufacture, the
shells yield the greatest number of pearls.

A species somewhat similar to the niggerhead is the bullhead
(_Pleurobema æsopus_). This shell is thick and opaque, the nacre is not
so iridescent as that of the niggerhead, nor does it yield pearls of
such good quality. These two species are not evenly distributed over the
bottom of the streams, but occur in great patches or beds, sometimes
several feet in thickness and covering many hundreds of acres. Some of
the beds are several miles in length, and they may be separated by
twenty or thirty miles in which the mollusks are so scarce that
profitable fishing can not be made; but usually the reefs are smaller
and more closely situated.

The sand shells (_Lampsilis_)—of which there are several species—do not
occur in large beds, but are scattered over the sandy beaches and
sloping mud-banks. In shape they are narrow and long, adults measuring
five or six inches in length. Owing to the small waste in cutting, due
to uniformity in thickness, these shells are sold to button
manufacturers for more than the niggerhead, which in turn is more
valuable than the bullhead.

The buckhorn (_Tritigonia verrucosa_) is very long and narrow; on the
dark brown exterior it is rough, as is the horn from which it takes its
name, while the interior shows a beautiful display of colors. This is
not found in beds, but lies scattered among other species. It sells at a
relatively high price—usually in excess of $20 per ton—for button
manufacture.

Another species is the butterfly (_Plagiola securis_), which is very
prettily marked on the outside with faintly colored dotted stripes of
varying length. Over a background of dark yellow run black stripes to
the outer edge of the shell, with dark dots between the stripes. The
shell is small and thick, and like the sand shell and the buckhorn, is
found in small quantities. Owing to the beauty and permanency of its
luster, this shell is in demand for button manufacture, and its pearls
are often very beautiful.

Other well-known species are the pancake (_Lampsilis alatus_), the
maple-leaf (_Quadrula wardi_), and hackle-back (_Symphynota
complanata_). On the Atlantic seaboard, the principal species in which
pearls have been found are _Unio complanata_; the _Alasmodon arcuata_,
which has hinge teeth, and a species of Anodon. Pearls from the _Unio
complanata_ are usually smaller but more lustrous than those from either
of the other species.

Among the many fresh-water mussels are found some remarkable conditions
of animal life. Probably the most curious is the parasitic stage of
certain species. When hatched from the egg, each one of these is
provided with hooks or spines, by means of which it attaches itself to
the gills or fins of a swimming fish and becomes embedded therein. After
confinement in this cyst for a period of two months or more, the small
mollusk works its way out and falls to the bottom of the river or pond,
where its development continues along lines more conventional to
molluscan life.

In most of the species of Unios the sexes are separate; but it has been
determined that in some the individuals are provided with both sets of
sexual organs. It is claimed by some naturalists that certain species
may change from one sex to another; yet this does not seem to have been
positively established.

Not the least interesting of the habits of the Unios is the manner in
which they “walk,” bushels of them changing their habitation in a few
hours. The shell opens slightly and the muscular tongue-like “foot” is
thrust out, and by pressure of this on the bottom, the mollusk is
propelled in a jerky, jumpy movement with more speed than one would
suppose possible for the apparently inert creature.

The number of eggs produced by an individual in one season ranges from a
few hundred in some species to many millions in others, as in the
_Quadrula heros_, for instance. Most of the fresh-water mollusks are of
slow growth, reaching maturity in six or eight years, and it is believed
that if undisturbed they live to be from fifteen to fifty years old;
indeed, some writers credit them with attaining an age of one hundred
years.

While outwardly there is no positive indication of the existence of
pearls, they are relatively scarce in young mollusks, and likewise in
those having a normal, healthy appearance, with smooth exterior free
from blemishes, and they are found generally in the older, irregular,
and deformed shells, which bear excrescences and the marks of having
parasites. However, some of the choicest pearls have come from shells
relatively young and apparently in perfect condition.

It has been pointed out that with the fresh-water Unios there are three
indications on which the fishermen to some extent rely for determining
the presence of pearls from the outward aspects of the shell. There are,
first, the thread or elevated ridge extending from the vertex to the
edge; second, the kidney-shape of the shell, and third, the contortion
of both valves toward the middle plane of the mollusk.

A single mollusk may contain several small pearls,—more than one hundred
have been found,—but in such cases usually none has commercial value.
Ordinarily only one is found in the examination of very many shells. Of
these objects it may be truthfully said that “many are found, but few
are chosen,” few that are of first quality or are worthy of a fine
necklace. In many instances, several pounds of cheap pearls would be
gladly exchanged for a choice gem weighing an equal number of grains.

On the Atlantic seaboard of America, the Anodontas, or “mussels,” as
they are known locally, are more numerous than the Unios. They prefer
the still waters of the ponds and lakes, rather than the swift currents
of the streams. The shell is much thinner than that of the Unios, and it
is usually not so brilliant in color and iridescence; consequently the
pearly concretions obtained from them are less lustrous.

The rivers of Europe, and of Asia also, contain numbers of pearl-bearing
mussels. In many localities the yield of pearls has at times attracted
attention and produced much profit, though probably never equaling the
present extent of the Mississippi River finds. The principal
pearl-bearer of Europe is the _Unio margaritifera_, the shell of which
has been of some local importance in the manufacture of pearl buttons.
In Great Britain it is known as the pearl-mussel; in France as the
_moule_ or _huître perlière_; in Germany as _perlenmuschel_; in Belgium
as _paarl mossel de rivieren_; in Denmark as _perle-skiael_; in Sweden
as _perlmussla_; in Russia as _schemtschuschuaja rakavina_, and in
Finland as _simpsuckan cuosi_. The _Unio margaritifera_ likewise exists
in Siberia, and possibly elsewhere in Asia. Other species of Unio exist
there and in Mongolia, Manchuria, etc., as, for instance, _U.
mongolicus_, _U. dahuricus_, etc. A leading species in eastern China,
the _Dipsas plicatus_, has long been extensively employed in the
artificial production of pearly objects or culture pearls.[83] Unio
pearls show less uniformity of tints than those derived from the
pearl-oysters. They present an extended series of shades, corresponding
to those on the interior of the shells, from almost perfect white
through various tints of cream, pink, yellow, bright red, blue, green,
russet, and brown. The metallic shades are numerous, especially the
steels and the coppers.

Most of the members of the _Mytilidæ_ family, which includes the marine
mussels, are of slight luster; and the pearly concretions found in them
are of the grade known as “druggists’ pearls,” so-called because,
formerly, they were used in a powdered form in astringent and other
medicines. However, some of these mussels on the European coast yield
pearls that are fairly lustrous. The white and the pink are most
numerous, but purple, red, bronze, and yellow are by no means uncommon.

A few pearls are also obtained from the sea-wings or wing-shells
(_Pinna_), the silkworms of the sea, found in the Red Sea, the
Mediterranean Sea, the Indian Ocean, the southern coast of America, and
elsewhere. These shells are narrow at the umbo, or hinge, long, and
fan-shaped; they are generally brittle, and present a horn-like
appearance. The interior is commonly of a silvery reddish or
orange-colored hue, and this tint is imparted to the pearls. The most
characteristic feature of the _Pinna_ is the thick rope of silky fibers,
from four to ten, and sometimes twenty or more inches in length,
constituting the byssus, a remarkable provision by means of which it
anchors itself to the bottom and thus outrides the storm. Formerly the
byssus was gathered in Sicily, washed in soap and water, dried, corded,
and fabricated into gloves and similar articles of a fine texture. The
finished garments were of a beautiful golden brown color, resembling the
burnished gold on the backs of some splendid flies or beetles.

The yield of _Pinna_ pearls is very small. A few are obtained from the
Mediterranean, especially on the Adriatic coast. These are usually
rose-tinted or reddish in color, but of diminished orient, and inferior
in size. _Pinna_ pearls are also reported from the Isle of Pines and
from New Caledonia, where they are commonly very dark, almost black in
color.

The window-glass shell (_Placuna placenta_), the _vitre chinoise_ of
some writers, yields a few small, irregularly shaped pearls of a dull
leaden color. It occurs in the inshore waters of the Indian and the
southwestern Pacific oceans; fisheries are prosecuted in Tablegram Lake,
near Trincomali, on the northeast coast of Ceylon; on the coast of
Borneo, especially at Pados Bay, and to a less extent in some other
localities. This mollusk is quite distinct from the true pearl-oyster,
and in adult life is devoid of the byssus, living on the muddy bottom of
the shallow waters. The shell is almost circular, the right valve is
quite flat, and the left only slightly convex. It is remarkable for its
transparency, especially in the first year of growth, when the beating
of the heart of the mollusk is visible through it. Reaching maturity in
about two years, the shell becomes white and translucent, resembling
pressed isinglass somewhat in its texture. It then measures about six or
seven inches in length, and nearly the same in width. The outside is
rough; the interior is glazed over and has a subdued pearly luster. It
is so thin and transparent that with a strong light very coarse print
can be read through it. It is commonly used in the East Indies as a
substitute for glass in windows, admitting a soft mellow light into the
room. For this purpose it is usually cut into small rectangular or
diamond-shaped pieces, about five or six square inches in area, and
these are inserted into sash frames. It forms a good economical
substitute for glass, not only in windows of native residences, but also
in lanterns and the like.

The giant clam (_Tridacna gigas_) of tropical waters yields a few large
opal-white symmetrical pearls, with faint luster and of little value.
The transversely oval shell of the _Tridacna_, with its great squamous
ribs, is probably the largest and heaviest in existence, single pairs
weighing upward of 500 pounds. It is found in tropical seas, and
especially in the Indian Ocean. It is much used for ornament,
particularly for fountain-basins, and for _bénitiers_, or holy-water
fonts. A beautiful pair used as _bénitiers_ in the Church of St. Sulpice
in Paris is said to have been a gift of the Republic of Venice to
Francis I. There seems to be no established fishery for this mollusk,
and the pearls very rarely come on the market. About four years ago in
New York City an effort was made to market one weighing about 200
grains. The owner represented that it was a “cocoanut pearl,” and
offered to sell it for $2000; whereas its actual value was probably not
over $10 or $20, and that only for a museum collection.

Pearls of slight luster also occur in the quahog, or hard clam (_Venus
mercenaria_), of the Atlantic coast of the United States. Although these
are rare, they are generally of good form, and some weigh upward of
eighty grains each. They are commonly of dark color, purplish,
ordinarily, but they may be white, pale lilac, brown, and even purplish
black, or black. The white ones—which so nearly resemble ivory buttons
as readily to pass for them at a casual glance—are of little value; but
fine dark ones have retailed at from $10 to $100 each. There is little
demand for them, for unless the color is very good, they possess slight
beauty, lacking the orient peculiar to choice pearls. Pearls have also
been reported from the edible clam of the Pacific coast of America.

Shelly concretions are found in the edible oyster of America (_Ostrea
virginica_), as well as in that of Europe (_O. edulis_); but these are
commonly objects of personal interest or of local curiosity, rather than
of artistic or commercial value, as they are lacking in luster and
iridescence. Most of them are dull or opal-white, some are purple, and a
few are white on one side and purple on the other. As many as fifty of
these formations have been found in a single oyster. Sometimes they are
of odd appearance, suggesting the human eye or face, and recently one
was found which bore a striking resemblance to a human skull.
Notwithstanding many news items to the contrary, it is doubtful whether
the choicest pearl from an edible oyster would sell for as high as $20
on its own merits; professional shuckers have opened thousands of
bushels of oysters without finding one which would sell for ten cents.

Among univalves, the most prominent pearl-producer is probably the
common conch or great conch (_Strombus gigas_) of the West Indies and
the Florida coast, which secretes beautiful pink pearls of considerable
value. This is one of the largest of the univalve shells, some
individuals measuring twelve inches in length, and weighing five or six
pounds. The graceful curves and the delicate tints of lovely pink color
make it exceedingly attractive. The conch abounds in the waters of the
West Indies, especially in the Bahamas, where many thousands are
annually taken for the shell, which forms quite an article of commerce.
The flesh is esteemed as food and is also used for bait; and it is
particularly in preparing for these purposes that the pearls are found,
as no established fisheries exist for the pearls alone.

The ear-shells or abalones (Haliotidæ) found on the coasts of
California, Japan, New Zealand, and other localities in the Pacific,
secrete pearly concretions, sometimes with fine luster, but usually of
small value. These shells resemble in general outline the form of the
human ear. Distinguishing characteristics are the flatly-spiral
bowl-like shape, and the regular series of holes in the back near the
distal margin, for the admission of water to the respiratory organs. The
holes are on the left side and parallel with the columellar lip, and
those nearest the apex close up as the shell increases in size. The
shells are rough externally, but beautifully nacreous within. In variety
and intensity of coloring, the nacre is superior to that of the
pearl-oysters, but it is not so harmonious, and it does not form so
thick and flat a layer.

Abalone pearls are especially interesting on account of their brilliant
and unusual colors. Green predominates, but blue and yellow also occur.
Although commonly very small, some of the well formed ones exceed
seventy-five grains in weight, and those of irregular shape may be very
much larger. The ear-shells also produce many irregular pearly masses.
Although these are without an established commercial value, their
beautiful greenish or bluish tints adapt them for artistic jeweled
objects, such as the body of a fly or of a beetle.

Similar concretions are found in species of turbos and turbinella,
especially the Indian chank (_Turbinella rapa_), which yields pink and
pale red pearls. The pearly nautilus (_Nautilus pompilius_) yields a few
yellowish pearls, especially those taken in Australian waters; but from
the paper nautilus—“the sea-born sailor of his shell canoe”—no pearls
are obtained, owing to the non-lustrous nature of the shell.

In bygone days, especially in Asia, and also to some extent in Europe,
pearls were credited as coming from many non-molluscan sources. The
Rabbis had the idea that they came also from fish, as noted in the story
of a tailor who was rewarded by finding a pearl in one which he bought
(Gen. R. xi. 5). The Raganighantu of Narahari, a Kashmir physician of
about 1240 _A.D._, reported them as coming from bamboos, cocoanuts,
heads of elephants, bears, serpents, whales, fish, etc.;[84] although it
conceded that these were deficient in luster, which is recognized as the
characteristic feature of pearls. We understand, therefore, that this
use of the word signifies only hard concretions of a spherical form. In
the apology for his book, prison-bound Bunyan wrote:

A pearl may in a toad’s head dwell,
And may be found in an oyster shell.

The crystal gems—the diamonds, rubies, etc.—are practically unlimited in
their longevity, existing thousands of years unchanged in condition.
Except those which have been discovered by man, the earth contains about
as many as it ever did, and it is not unreasonable to suppose that in
course of time a considerable percentage of the total will be
discovered. But in the seas as well as in the rivers, the longevity of
pearls is greatly restricted, and

Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear[85]

to run their course of existence and decay unseen and unknown.
Perishable while in the seas, almost as cereals and fruits on land, the
harvest must be gathered with promptness or it is wasted. And it seems
probable that only a small percentage of the beautiful gems produced in
the waters have gladdened the sight of man.

With considerable hesitancy we have attempted to estimate the number of
persons employed in the pearl fisheries of the world, and the aggregate
local value of their catch. For two or three regions, this is not a
matter of great difficulty. For instance, the divers employed in the
Ceylon fishery are numbered each season, and the auction sales of their
catch furnish a reasonably satisfactory basis for determining the value
of the output. Likewise in Australia, Venezuela, and some minor
localities, the fishermen are numbered; but the reports are less
satisfactory as to the value of the pearls. In the Persian Gulf, the Red
Sea, the Gulf of California, and the islands of the Pacific, where
pearl-diving is a profession and a regular source of livelihood, the
number of employees is fairly constant. But in the rivers and ponds of
America, as well as of Europe and of Asia, where neither experience nor
costly equipment is required for the industry, and pearls to the value
of very many thousands of dollars are obtained by men, women, and even
children, on pleasure bent, as well as in the widely fluctuating
professional fisheries, the problem is far more difficult.

Contending with these many difficulties, we venture to present the
following estimate of the number of persons employed in the pearl
fisheries of the world, and the value of the output in 1906.

Localities. Pearls Shells
Fishermen Local Local
No. Values. Values.

Asia:

Persian Gulf 35,000 $4,000,000 $110,000

Ceylon[86] 18,500 1,200,000 40,000

India 1,250 100,000 95,000

Red Sea, Gulf of Aden, etc.[87] 3,000 200,000 150,000

China, Japan, Siberia, etc. 20,000 400,000 50,000

——————— —————————— ——————————

Total 77,750 $5,900,000 $445,000

Europe:

British Isles 200 15,000

Continent of Europe 1,000 100,000 3,000

——————— —————————— ——————————

Total 1,200 $115,000 $3,000

Islands of the Pacific:

South Sea islands 4,500 125,000 500,000

Australian coast[88] 6,250 450,000 1,200,000

Malay Archipelago 5,000 300,000 800,000

——————— —————————— ——————————

Total 15,750 $875,000 $2,500,000

America:

United States rivers 8,500 650,000 350,000

Venezuela 1,900 275,000 10,000

Mexico 1,250 210,000 200,000

Panama 400 40,000 75,000

Miscellaneous 1,000 75,000 25,000

——————— —————————— ——————————

Total 13,050 $1,250,000 $660,000

======= ========== ==========

Grand total 107,750 $8,140,000 $3,608,000

Our returns do not represent the annual output of pearls in the values
best known to gem buyers. The difference in price between pearls in the
fisherman’s hands in the Persian Gulf or at the Pacific islands, and
that for which they are exchanged over the counters in New York or
Paris, is nearly as great as the difference in value of wool on the
sheep’s back and of the same material woven into fashionable fabrics.
For each dollar received by the fisherman, the retail buyer probably
pays three; and it is not unreasonable to suppose that the pearls herein
represented probably sold ultimately for an aggregate of $24,420,000.

This summary falls far short in giving a correct idea of the importance
of the pearl fisheries in furnishing a livelihood to humanity; for it
takes no consideration of that great body of men who contribute
incidentally to the prosecution of the fisheries, such as shell-openers,
pearl-washers, watchmen, cooks, laborers, etc. In the Ceylon pearl
fishery of 1906, for instance, our estimate shows 18,500 fishermen; but
there were 40,000 persons engaged at the pearl camp alone, and many
others were given employment in boat-building, supplying provisions,
selling the pearls, etc., and this does not include the wives and
children depending on the industry for sustenance. Indeed, it seems not
unreasonable to estimate that instead of only the 18,500 fishermen,
85,000 persons were in a large measure dependent for their livelihood on
the Ceylon fishery in 1906.

Estimated on the same basis, we have a total of 500,000 persons
depending largely on the pearl fisheries of the world for their support.
Thus we see that pearl buyers and pearl wearers not only gratify a
commendable admiration for the beautiful, but contribute largely to the
economic balance whereby one class of humanity either sustains or is
dependent upon another, even though these classes be so widely separated
as the crown of Russia from the half-starved diver of the tropical seas.
How strange is the providence of God, who, by granting the pearl to the
poor Arab, the Tamil of India, the South Sea Islander, and the forgotten
Selang of Mergui, makes the greatest and wealthiest in the world
contribute to their support.

 


VI

PEARLS FROM ASIA

THE PERSIAN GULF, FISHERIES OF INDIA, CEYLON PEARL FISHERIES, RED SEA
AND ARABIAN SEA, CHINA, JAPAN, SIBERIA, ETC.

 


VI
THE PEARL FISHERIES OF THE PERSIAN GULF


Dear as the wet diver to the eyes
Of his pale wife, who waits and weeps on shore,
By sands of Bahrein in the Persian Gulf;
Plunging all day in the blue waves; at night,
Having made up his toll of precious pearls,
Rejoins her in their hut upon the shore.

SIR EDWIN ARNOLD.

The pearl fisheries of the Persian Gulf are the most famous and valuable
in the world, and have been prosecuted for more than two thousand years.
A translation by that eminent Assyriologist, Jules Oppert, of a
cuneiform inscription on a broken obelisk, erected presumably by a king
of Nineveh, seems to indicate a very early origin for these
fisheries.[89] Professor Oppert’s translation is:

In the sea of the changeable winds (_i.e._, the Persian Gulf),
his merchants fished for pearls;
In the sea where the North Star culminates,
they fished for yellow amber.

The earliest writing of Europeans on the East refer to these fisheries.
An account of them was given by the Greek writer Megasthenes, who
accompanied Seleucus Nicator, the Macedonian general, in his Asiatic
conquests, about 307 B.C. Shortly afterward they were noted by the Greek
historian, Isidorus of Charace, in his account of the Parthian Empire.
Extracts from Nearchus preserved by Arrian also mention them. Ptolemy
speaks of the pearl fisheries which existed from time immemorial at
Tylos, the Roman name for the present Island of Bahrein. These resources
were well known in the days of Pliny. In his “Historia Naturalis,” Book
IX, ch. 35, he says: “But the most perfect and exquisite [pearls] of all
others be they that are gotten about Arabia, within the Persian
Gulf.”[90] Pliny states also (Book VI, ch. 25) that Catifa (El Katiff),
on the Arabian coast opposite Bahrein, was the center of an important
fishery.

In the ninth century these fisheries were noted by Massoudi, one of the
earliest Arabian geographers.[91] In the latter part of the twelfth
century they were visited and described by the Spanish-Hebrew traveler,
Rabbi Benjamin of Tudela.[92] The Arabian traveler, Ibn Batuta, wrote of
them about 1336.[93] In 1508 they were noted in the account of Lodovico
Barthema’s expedition to the Island of Ormus. According to him:

At three days’ journey from this island they fished the largest
pearls which are found in the world; and whoever wishes to know
about it, behold! There are certain fishermen who go there in small
boats and cast into the water two large stones attached to ropes,
one at the bow, the other at the stern of each boat to stay it in
place. Then one of the fishermen hangs a sack from his neck,
attaches a large stone to his feet, and descends to the bottom—about
fifteen paces under water, where he remains as long as he can,
searching for oysters which bear pearls, and puts as many as he
finds into his sack. When he can remain no longer, he casts off the
stone attached to his feet, and ascends by one of the ropes fastened
to the boat. There are so many connected with the business that you
will often see 300 of these little boats which come from many
countries.[94]

Shortly following the visit of Barthema, the Portuguese under
Albuquerque took possession of the principal ports of the Persian Gulf,
and they imposed heavy taxes on the pearl fishery throughout the century
of their retention. While under their jurisdiction, the fisheries were
visited and described by J. H. van Linschoten in 1596, who wrote:

The principall and the best that are found in all the Orientall
Countries, and the right Orientall pearles, are between Ormus and
Bassora in the straights, or Sinus Persicus, in the places called
Bareyn, Catiffa, Julfar, Camaron, and other places in the said Sinus
Persicus, from whence they are brought into Ormus. The king of
Portingale hath also his factor in Bareyn, that stayeth there onlie
for the fishing of pearles. There is great trafficke used with them,
as well in Ormus as in Goa.[95]

This was the Ormus where the treasures of the Orient were gathered in
abundance, the half-way house between the East and the West, making it
one of the greatest emporia of the world. So renowned was its wealth and
commerce that it was a saying among the Portuguese, were the whole world
a golden ring, Ormus would be the jeweled signet. It was built on an
island, supported a population of 40,000 persons, and was particularly
well situated as a distributing point for the pearls, which enriched the
argosies of Portugal, and contributed so largely to

the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Show’rs on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,

which Milton celebrates in “Paradise Lost.” This wonderful Ormus, in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries one of the wealthiest places in the
world, is now only a fishing village of less than a hundred huts.

It was at Ormus, nearly a century later, in 1670, that the shrewd old
jewel merchant, Tavernier, whose acquaintance with gems doubtless
equaled that of any man of his time, saw what he called “the most
beautiful pearl in the world”; not so much for its size, for it weighed
only 48¼ grains, nor for its regularity in form, but because of its most
wonderful luster.[96]

In describing the fisheries, which had been retaken by the Persians in
1622, Tavernier wrote in 1670, according to Ball’s translation:

There is a pearl fishery round the island of Bahren, in the Persian
Gulf. It belongs to the King of Persia, and there is a good fortress
there, where a garrison of 300 men is kept…. When the Portuguese
held Hormuz [Ormus] and Muscat, each boat which went to fish was
obliged to take out a license from them, which cost fifteen
_abassis_ [$5.45], and many brigantines were maintained there, to
sink those who were unwilling to take out licenses. But since the
Arabs have retaken Muscat, and the Portuguese are no longer supreme
in the Gulf, every man who fishes pays to the King of Persia only
five _abassis_, whether his fishing is successful or not. The
merchant also pays the king something small for every 1,000 oysters.
The second pearl fishery is opposite Bahren, on the coast of Arabia
Felix, close to the town of El Katif, which, with all the
neighboring country, belongs to an Arab prince.[97]

During the century following Tavernier’s time, the fisheries were
vigorously prosecuted, owing to the impoverished condition of the reefs
in India and America, and to the large demand for pearls, not only by
the Oriental courts, but by the wealth and fashion of Europe. Except for
the last four years, when the Ceylon fishery was very productive,
throughout the eighteenth century the Persian Gulf was almost the only
important source of supply for pearls. For several years following the
reopening of the Ceylon fishery in 1796, that region diverted some of
the attention which the Persian waters had been receiving, but it was
not long before these regained their ascendancy.

In 1838, Lieutenant J. R. Wellsted, an officer in the British India
service, reported that the fisheries of the gulf employed 4300 boats,
manned by somewhat more than 30,000 men.[98] Of these boats, 3500 were
from the Island of Bahrein, 100 from the Persian coast, and the
remaining 700 from the Pirate Coast situated between Bahrein and the
entrance to the Gulf of Oman. Lieutenant Wellsted estimated the value of
the pearls secured annually as approximately £400,000, which is somewhat
less than the average value of the output in recent years.

Twenty-seven years later, according to Sir Lewis Pelly,[99] who was in
the Indian service from 1851 to 1877, there were 1500 boats at Bahrein,
and the annual return from the whole fishery was £400,000, the same as
previously reported by Wellsted. In 1879, the value of the output was
estimated at £600,000 by the British Resident, Colonel Ross, and at
£800,000 by Captain L. E. Durand, of the British Protectorate of the
Persian Gulf. Owing to the increased market value, the average output in
the last five years has amounted to approximately four million dollars
annually. This refers to the local value only, which is greatly
increased by the time the pearls leave the markets in Bombay and Bagdad.

The Persian Gulf is nearly 600 miles long, with an average width of
somewhat more than 100 miles. The Strait of Ormus—thirty to sixty miles
wide—connects it with the Gulf of Oman, which opens directly into the
Arabian Sea. The depth of water rarely exceeds thirty fathoms. Oyster
reefs are well distributed throughout the gulf, and are in greatest
abundance on the Arab side between the 24th and 27th degrees of north
latitude and the 50th and 54th degrees of east longitude, at a distance
of from a few hundred yards to sixty miles from the shore, and
especially in the vicinity of the Bahrein Islands. The oysters are
scattered over level areas of coral rock and sand, with depths ranging
from two to eighteen fathoms.[100] The divers rarely descend in deeper
water than twelve fathoms, notwithstanding that valuable pearls are
apparently obtainable at greater depths.

Although the British Protectorate extends over the Persian Gulf,
insuring the peaceful prosecution of the fisheries and the settlement of
intertribal contentions by the government resident, the fisheries are
under the regulations of the maritime Arab sheiks. The restrictions
imposed by these, however, are principally with a view to collecting a
revenue from each boat employed. The total amount realized thereby is
unknown, but there is good reason for supposing that it is considerable.

The fisheries are carried on during the greater part of every year,
presenting a strong contrast to the Ceylon fishery, which is prosecuted
usually less than forty days, and in only about one year in three on an
average. This is especially remarkable when it is considered that no
particular care is taken of the Persian reefs and, except for certain
tribal restrictions, the fishermen may work whenever and wherever they
choose. Owing to the extended area over which the fishing is prosecuted
and the existence of undisturbed breeding-oysters in the deeper waters,
the reefs are not readily exhausted, notwithstanding the tens of
millions of mollusks annually removed therefrom.

The fisheries are at their height from June to September, when nearly
every person on the coast is interested in some capacity, if not in
fishing, at least in furnishing supplies, cleaning shells, buying
pearls, etc. In April and May the water on the deep banks is so cold
that the fishermen confine their efforts to the more shallow areas.
During the winter months, the cold weather and the northwesterly gales
interfere with the work, except such as is prosecuted in the smaller
bays and inlets.

The pearling operations are financed mostly by Indian _bunnias_, or
traders, principally from Bombay, who furnish capital for equipment,
supplies of food, etc., and who purchase the pearls in gross lots. These
men bear very hard on the fishermen, furnishing the supplies and buying
the pearls almost at their own prices; and the poor divers who explore
the depths and secure the pearls derive from their exertions little more
than the crudest necessaries of life, and are usually in debt to the
traders.

The actual fishing operations are carried on mainly by the maritime
tribes of Hasa and Oman, including those on the Pirate Coast. The
inhabitants of the Bahrein Islands and the adjacent shores have been
devoted to pearling from time immemorial; but the Wahabis of the Pirate
Coast—the _Ichthyophagi_ of Ptolemy’s time—have more recently, under the
persuasive influence of British gunboats and magazine-rifles,
substituted pearling for their two-century inherited life of fanatical
piracy. Referring to these people in his quaint sketches of Persia
eighty years ago, Sir John Malcolm wrote: “Their occupation is piracy,
and their delight murder, and to make it worse they give you the most
pious reasons for every villainy they commit. They abide by the letter
of the sacred volume, rejecting all commentaries and traditions. If you
are their captive and offer all to save your life, they say, “No! It is
written in the Koran that it is not lawful to plunder the living; but we
are not prohibited from stripping the dead. So saying they knock you on
the head.”[101] Most of the Wahabi pearlers congregate in the mat-hut
settlements of Dobai, Abu Thubi, and Ras-el-Kheima, located at the
mouths of creeks which form fairly good harbors for the small boats. The
Batina coast also furnishes some pearl fishermen, these coming
principally from Fujaira, Shenas, Sohar, Suaik, and Sib.

The headquarters for the pearling fleet are at Bahrein Island, the
largest of the insular group bearing the same name, the islets of
Moharrek, Sitrah, and Nissan completing the group. This is the early
home of Chaldean civilization, and one of the traditional sources of the
Phenicians, and whence came that fish-god who—according to the
Babylonian myth—bore the ark over the deluge. This island, the center of
the greatest pearl fishery in the world, is half way down on the
southern side of the Persian Gulf, and twenty miles from the mainland of
“Araby the blest.” It is about twenty-eight miles in length, and ten in
width at the widest part. The population approximates 60,000, all
Moslems, except about 100 Banyan traders from Sindh, India. The northern
half of the island is described as of great beauty, being a garden of
pomegranate, lemon, citron, and quince-trees, and especially the
magnificent date-palms, with numerous springs furnishing an abundance of
excellent fresh water. The principal settlement, Manama, with about
10,000 inhabitants, is poorly built, the houses consisting mostly of
huts of mats and palm leaves; yet it presents a better appearance than
any other settlement along this coast.

The one great industry, and the center of all interest throughout this
region, is the pearl fishery. The present conditions are precisely as
Palgrave wrote in 1863: “It is from the sea, not from the land, that the
natives subsist; and it is also mainly on the sea that they dwell,
passing amid its waters the one half of the year in search of pearls,
the other half in fishery or trade. Hence their real homes are the
countless boats which stud the placid pool, or stand drawn up in long
black lines on the shore, while little care is taken to ornament their
land houses, the abodes of their wives and children at most, and the
unsightly strong boxes of their treasures. ‘We are all, from the highest
to the lowest, slaves of one master—Pearl,’ said Mohammed bin Thanee to
me one evening; nor was the expression out of place. All thought, all
conversation, all employment, turns on that one subject; everything else
is merely by-game, and below even secondary consideration.”[102]

According to recent returns, the Persian Gulf fisheries employ about
3500 boats,[103] large and small, of which 1200 of the best are owned at
Bahrein, 700 on the coast of El Hassa from El Katar to Kuweit, and the
remaining 1600 are from various parts of the gulf, and especially from
the Pirate Coast east of El Katar. They measure from one to fifty tons.
The smaller ones, with three to fifteen men each, work near the shores;
the larger, carrying fifteen to thirty men, fish over the whole gulf,
remaining out for weeks at a time. These craft are very picturesque with
their artistic rigs and spoon-shaped sails, and when the fishery is at
its height the scene is one of rare interest. The boats from Bahrein are
of excellent construction made by native workmen using local materials,
with home-woven sailcloth and rigging of twisted date-fiber. Each of the
larger ones usually evidences a lingering trace of Semitic influence in
its _kubait_, or figurehead, covered with skin of the sheep or goat
sacrificed in the launching ceremonies.[104] The boats from El Hassa and
the Pirate Coast are usually smaller and less substantial than those
from Bahrein, the fishermen from the latter place far surpassing those
of the mainland in civilization and industrial wealth.

The fleet is manned by approximately 35,000 fishermen. In addition to
the _nakhoda_, or captain, who is often the owner of the boat, the crew
consists of _ghoas_ or divers, who are mainly Arabs and Sedees, and
_sebs_, or rope-tenders, who are usually Bedouins or Persians and attend
the divers and perform other duties. Many Hindus from India, and
flat-nosed, sable-hued Negroes from the east coast of Africa find
employment here. On each of the larger boats is a general utility man,
known as _el musully_, literally the “prayer-man,” who, in addition to
various other duties, relieves those _sebs_ who stop to pray.

Among the fishermen are all types and classes to be met with in this
part of the world, with the usual contingent of the lame, the halt, and
the blind. There are a number of fishermen who have been maimed and
mutilated by shark bites. A surprisingly large number of men who have
become totally blind engage in diving, and they usually do fairly well
where the oysters are abundant on the reefs. And one or two unfortunate
divers are reported who continue the work even though handicapped by the
loss both of a leg and of eyesight, this interfering less with their
diving than with their movements on land.

The fishery in this region owes absolutely nothing to modern
civilization in the method of securing the pearls from the depth of the
sea; it is carried on to-day practically as it was six hundred years
ago, and probably has been without important variation for two thousand
years. Aside from a loin-cloth, the diver is devoid of clothing except
that rarely, early in the season when _polypi_ abound, he is enveloped
in a cotton overall as a protection. Over each finger and thumb he wears
a shield or stall (_khubaat_, or finger-hat), about two inches long,
made of flexible leather, to protect the fingers from the sharp shells
and coral-growths. As each fisherman usually wears out at least two sets
of these shields each season, it will be seen that a very large quantity
of them is required to supply the entire fleet.

The divers use stones on which they descend feet foremost. Although this
is less spectacular than the method of diving practised by the natives
of the South Sea islands, it enables the fisherman to reach the bottom
more speedily and with far less effort. The diving-stones range in
weight from thirty to fifty pounds each, depending largely on the depth
of water and the weight of the fisherman. They are somewhat oval in
shape, and have one end perforated to admit a rope. Immediately above
the attachment is formed a loop, resembling a stirrup, to receive the
diver’s foot. When prepared for the day’s work, each stone is suspended
by a stout rope over outriggers projecting from the side of the boat,
and by a slip-knot is temporarily held four and a half or five feet
below the surface of the water. A very stout diver may have a stone
affixed to his waist to overcome his greater buoyancy. Usually two
divers use one stone together and descend alternately. Each one has an
attendant in the boat who assists him in ascending, and looks after the
ropes, baskets of shells, etc.

In preparing for descent, the fisherman takes hold of the rope from
which the diving stone is suspended, puts one foot in the loop just
above the stone and places the other foot in the rim of a net basket,
eighteen inches wide, made of coir rope. When ready, he signals his
attendant, inhales several good breaths, closes his nostrils with a
_fitaam_ or nostril-clasp of flexible horn attached to a cord around his
neck, raises his body somewhat above the surface to give force to the
descent, releases the slip-knot retaining the stone, and sinks rapidly
to the bottom. Immediately disengaging his foot from the stone, he
throws himself in a stooping position on the ground and collects as many
oysters as possible during the fifty seconds or more in which he is able
to remain under water. When near his limit of endurance, he hastily
gives a signal jerk to the rope attached to the basket, and the watchful
attendant hauls him up as speedily as possible, the diver frequently
quickening the ascent by hand over hand movement up the rope. When near
the surface, he lets go of the rope and with his arms close to his body
pops above the surface puffing and blowing. The contents of the net bag
are emptied into a large basket by the attendant, and the dead shells
and other refuse are separated from the live oysters and thrown back
into the sea, the diver having worked too rapidly at the bottom to
discriminate closely as to what he gathered.

In the meantime, the stone has been drawn up and suspended by the
slip-knot in its customary position and the diving partner is resting at
the surface preparatory to descending. Thus, diving alternately at
intervals of five or six minutes, each fisherman descends thirty or
forty times in an ordinary day’s work. The number of oysters gathered at
each descent depends on such conditions as their abundance, the depth
and clearness of the water, etc. It ranges from none to fifty or more,
but ordinarily ten or twelve is a good average. As the men commonly work
on shares, the shells brought up by each diver or by each pair of divers
are kept separate.

The best type of Arab divers are very careful of themselves, drying the
body thoroughly with towels on coming out of the water, taking intervals
of rest during the day’s work; and even while in the water between dives
they may enjoy the luxury of a cheroot or pipe, or possibly a cigarette
may pass from mouth to mouth of several men.

When pursuing their work, the divers are abstemious. After devotions at
sunrise and a light breakfast of perhaps dates or rice and coffee, they
begin fishing. About noon they knock off for coffee, prayers, and an
hour’s siesta, and then resume work for several hours. When the day’s
work is over and they have faced Meccaward with the customary prayers,
they rest and eat a substantial meal, commonly of dates and fish roasted
over a charcoal fire.

In equal depths the Arab fishermen remain under water longer than those
of India who resort to the Ceylon fishery, but this is partly
counterbalanced by the latter descending somewhat more frequently. When
preparing for a lengthy dive, the fisherman imbibes large quantities of
air, opening his mouth and inhaling large volumes.

The length of time a diver remains submerged in the average depth of
seven or eight fathoms rarely exceeds sixty seconds, although some may
remain seventy, eighty, and even ninety seconds on special occasion. A
fully substantiated instance is reported from Manaar of an Arab diver
having remained 109 seconds in seven fathoms of water. This occurred
April 13, 1887, and was witnessed and reported[105] by Captain James
Donnan, the inspector of the fishery. Wellsted reports[106] a diving
contest in the Persian Gulf in which only one man, of the hundreds who
competed, remained down 110 seconds; the depth, however, is not noted.

There are numerous reports of much longer stays than these; indeed, a
study of the published evidence bearing upon the subject furnishes
surprising results. Ribeiro wrote, in 1685, that a diver could remain
below while two _credos_ were repeated: “_Il s’y tient l’espace de deux
credo._”[107] In his interesting account of the Ceylon fishery, Percival
stated that the usual length of time for divers to remain under water
“does not much exceed two minutes, yet there are instances known of
divers who could remain four or even five minutes, which was the case
with a Caffre boy the last year I visited the fishery. The longest
instance ever known was of a diver who came from Anjango in 1797, and
who absolutely remained under water full six minutes.”[108] Le Beck
says, that in 1797, he saw a diver from Karikal remain down for the
space of seven minutes.[109] The merchant traveler, Jean Chardin,
reported in 1711 that the divers remain up to seven and a half minutes
under water: “_Les plongeurs qui pêchent les perles sont quelquefois
jusqu’à demi-quart-d’heure sous l’eau._”[110]

In 1667, the Royal Society of London addressed an inquiry on this
subject to Sir Philiberto Vernatti, the British Resident at Batavia in
the East Indies. Vernatti’s reply gave certain details regarding the
Ceylon fishery, but did not touch upon the length of diving because, as
he stated, he could not “meet with any one that can satisfy me, and
being unsatisfied myself, I cannot nor will obtrude anything upon you
which may hereafter prove fabulous; but shall still serve you with
truth.”[111] Two years later, and presumably after investigation,
Vernatti reported: “The greatest length of time that pearl-divers in
these parts can continue under water is about a quarter of an hour; and
that by no other means than custom; for pearl-diving lasts not above six
weeks, and the divers stay a great while longer at the end of the season
than at the beginning.”[112]

The anatomist Diemerbroeck relates[113] the case of a pearl diver who,
under his own observation, remained half an hour at a time under water
while pursuing his work; and this was seriously adopted without comment
by John Mason Goode in his “Study of Medicine.”[114] Ibn Batuta, “the
Doctor of Tangier,” wrote about 1336 that “some remain down an hour,
others two hours, others less.”[115] A still earlier writer, Jouchanan
ibn Masouiah,[116] in his book on stones, states that “the diver, when
he dives, places upon his nose a _masfâsa_ lest water should enter into
him, and breathes through the fissure, and remains under water for half
an hour.” According to Sebaldus Rau[117] this _masfâsa_ was an article
resembling a hood or cap, which the diver placed over his nose. It was
made of some impervious material and had a projection so long that it
reached to the surface of the water. The same writer believes that this
object was alluded to by Aristotle (“De part. animal.,” _Lib._ II, c.
16), where he likens the trunk of the elephant to the instrument used by
certain divers for aiding their respiration, so that they could remain
longer in the water and draw in air from above the surface.[118] And
here we cease pursuit of further records, lest our faith in recorded
testimony be too severely tested.[119]

A superficial inspection of the above evidence, from the one or two
hours noted by Ibn Batuta about the year 1336, to the half an hour of
Diemerbroeck in 1672, the quarter of an hour of Vernatti in 1669, the
seven and one half minutes of Chardin in 1711, the six minutes of
Percival in 1803, to the 110 seconds of the present time, seems to
indicate very clearly a gradual but somewhat remarkable decrease in the
ability of the Asiatic divers, and that the pearl fishermen of the
present day are very different creatures from their ancestors. And
especially is this so when it is considered that the above records are
not isolated reports selected for the particular purpose of showing a
decrease in the length of diving; on the contrary they are authoritative
and representative publications of their respective periods. We do not
recall having seen in any report issued previous to 1675, an intimation
that the limit of time was less than ten minutes.

However, a careful consideration of the subject leads to the belief that
there has been no serious decrease in the length of time that the Arab
and Indian divers remain under water, and that either the writers were
misinformed or that the individual cases reported were extremely
exceptional. Ibn Batuta’s instance of one to two hours could easily be
caused by a mistake in copying Arabic manuscript, or in the translation.
The case related by Diemerbroeck in which a pearl diver remained
submerged half an hour, is more perplexing, especially as the physician
reports that this was done under his own observation. The numerous
reports of five or six minutes may have been based on a very exceptional
case.

These statements are viewed as highly incredible by men who have spent
scores of years at the fisheries. A man may remain submerged for several
minutes, but the conditions are vastly different from the activities of
pearl-gathering at a depth of ten fathoms, where the pressure of the
water is nearly thirty pounds to the square inch, and the slightest
exercise is fatiguing. Unless the time is taken by a watch, it is easy
to overestimate the stay; the seconds pass very slowly when one is
waiting momentarily for the appearance of the diver’s head above the
water, and certainly to the nearly exhausted fisherman with straining
chest and palpitating heart, the last few seconds must seem extremely
long indeed. An instance is noted in which an Arab diver remained
submerged seventy-one seconds, and on his reappearance, naïvely inquired
if he had not been down ten minutes. It seems doubtful whether the 110
seconds herein noted has been greatly exceeded, in recent years at
least, by Arab or Indian divers, who do not appear to equal the
semi-amphibious natives of the South Sea islands in their exploits.

One of the most curious features of the pearling industry is the manner
in which the fishermen secure supplies of drinking water. In the
vicinity of Bahrein, numerous fresh-water springs exist at the bottom of
the gulf in depths of two or three fathoms, and the fishermen dive into
the depth of the salt water down to where the fresh water is springing
forth and there fill a skin or other suitable receptacle which they
bring to the surface. By running a pipe down near the bottom in the
vicinity of one of these springs, an abundance of fresh water may be
pumped into the boat.

Three species—or at least three varieties—of pearl-bearing oysters are
obtained in the Persian Gulf. These are known locally as _mahar_,
_sudaifee_, and _zinni_. Of these, the _mahar_ or Lingah oyster, which
corresponds to the Ceylon pearl-oyster, yields the greatest quantity of
pearls, and those of the finest quality. It measures three or three and
a half inches in diameter, and is found in deeper water than the others.
The _sudaifee_ and the _zinni_, which are larger, yield pearls in much
smaller quantities than the _mahar_.

On large boats, which remain out for two or three weeks at a time, the
oysters are left on deck overnight, and the following morning they are
opened by means of a curved knife (_miflaket_), four or five inches in
length. The smaller boats working near shore convey the catch to the
land for the opening and searching for pearls.

The Persian Gulf pearls are commonly not so white as those from Ceylon,
but they are found of larger size, and it is believed in Asia that they
retain their luster for a greater length of time. Many of the Persian
Gulf pearls, especially those from _sudaifee_ and _zinni_ shells, have a
distinctly yellow color. Tavernier made a curious explanation of this.
He stated:

As for the pearls tending to yellow, the color is due to the fact
that the fishermen sell the oysters in heaps, and the merchants
awaiting sometimes up to 14 or 15 days till the shells open of
themselves, in order to extract the pearls, some of these oysters
lose their water during this time, decay, and become putrid, and the
pearls become yellow by contact. This is so true that in all oysters
which have retained their water, the pearls are always white. They
are allowed to open of themselves, because if they are opened by
force, as we open our oysters in the shell, the pearls may be
damaged and broken. The oysters of the Manar Strait open of
themselves, 5 or 6 days sooner than those of the Gulf of Persia,
because the heat is much greater at Manar, which is at the tenth
degree of North latitude, while the island of Bahrein is at about
the twenty-seventh. And consequently among the pearls which come
from Manar there are few yellow ones found.[120]

Tavernier was more familiar with the pearls themselves than with the
methods of the fishery. The yellow color is not due to contact with the
putrefactive flesh, and is independent of the manner of opening. In
fact, if putrefaction caused the yellow color, this shade would be far
more prevalent in the Manaar or Ceylon pearls than in those from
Bahrein, for practically all of the Ceylon oysters are permitted to
putrefy, whereas only a portion of those in the Persian Gulf are opened
in this manner. Furthermore, notwithstanding that it is nearer the
equator, the heat at Manaar during the pearling season is not to be
compared with that at Bahrein when the season is at its height, for the
Persian Gulf during July and August is notorious as one of the hottest
places on the globe.

While the great bulk of the pearls are either white or yellowish, these
fisheries yield a few pink, bluish, gray, and occasionally even black
pearls. These unusual colors are not especially prized. A curious and
remarkably detailed story has gone the rounds in which the qualities of
Persian and Ceylon pearls are compared, to the disparagement of the
latter, and during the last hundred years few accounts have been
published of this fishery without recording it. We notice it first in
Morier’s “Journey through Persia in 1808 and 1809,”[121] but possibly it
antedated that report. The statement is that the pearls of Ceylon peel
off, while those of Persia are as “firm as the rock on which they grow”;
and though they lose in color and luster one per cent. annually for
fifty years, they still lose less than those of Ceylon, and at the
expiration of the fifty years they cease to diminish in appearance.

The pearl output in the Persian Gulf at the present time appears from
the official returns to exceed four million dollars annually at local
valuation. The exports in 1903 were reported at £827,447, and in 1904,
£1,077,241. It is generally understood that all of the pearls are not
entered in the official figures, and the valuations in the markets of
Asia and Europe are greatly in excess of these amounts. The profits of
the fishery are divided among a great number of persons. A large
percentage goes to the shrewd _bunnias_ from India, who finance the
fishery operations, and who, by all sorts of tricks connected with
advances of supplies, valuation of the catch, etc., manage to make a
very good thing out of the business. It is nothing unusual for the
valuation of a lot of pearls to double and even treble after leaving the
hands of the fishermen.

While many of the gulf pearls—and especially of the small seed-pearls—go
to Bagdad, the great bulk of them are sold to representatives of Hindu
and Arab merchants of Bombay for shipment to that city, which to the
Bahrein fisherman is the heart of the outside world. Few of the pearls
go directly into Arabia or Persia, as the certain sale in the larger
Bombay market is preferable to a sometimes higher but less regular price
in other markets. Indeed, pearls may usually be purchased at a less cost
in India than a stranger would be obliged to pay at Bahrein. The Bombay
merchants “sow the earth with Orient pearl,” dealing direct with London,
Paris and Berlin, and with the oriental jewelers. Most of the yellow
pearls find oriental purchasers, with whose dark complexions they
harmonize better than the silvery white ones. They are also more popular
because of a belief existing throughout the East that they are less
likely to lose their luster with the lapse of years.

The shell of the pearl-oysters is not used locally, but large quantities
are exported to Europe for manufacture. Although it is the smallest and
cheapest produced in the gulf, yet, owing to the enormous quantity taken
for their pearls, the shell of the _mahar_ (_Margaritifera vulgaris_)
constitutes the bulk of the exports. Formerly most of the shipments were
made from the harbor of Lingah, hence it is known in the markets of
Europe as “Lingah shell.” But in the last three or four years, much of
it has been transported to Europe via Bander Abbas and Bushire. A German
firm at Bahrein is extensively employed in exporting this shell, and
several Indian merchants are also engaged in the trade. The total
exports in 1906 amounted to 3262 tons, valued at $26,408 according to
the port returns, but worth about $135,000 in Europe. Very large
quantities are received in London, and over 2500 tons have been offered
at auction in a single year. This shell is very small, averaging about
three inches in diameter and about one and a half ounces in weight. It
is the cheapest of all mother-of-pearl. The best quality sells in London
for ten to twenty shillings per hundredweight, but the ordinary grade is
worth usually less than nine shillings, and sometimes as low as three
shillings per hundredweight. America formerly imported it, but few lots
have been received since the exploitation of the Mississippi shell about
fifteen years ago.

The shell of the larger species of pearl-oysters in the Persian Gulf is
worth considerably more than the “Lingah shell,” selling in Europe for
£12 to £60 per ton, yet manufacturers consider it as furnishing only
poor qualities of mother-of-pearl. Several hundred tons are exported
annually. It measures six or seven inches in diameter and is used
principally in making cheap grades of buttons.


THE PEARL FISHERIES OF CEYLON

Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow;
He who would search for pearls must dive below.

DRYDEN, _All for Love_, Prologue.

Second in extent to those of Persia only, are the intermittent and
uncertain pearl fisheries of the Gulf of Manaar. This is an arm of the
Indian Ocean, from 65 to 150 miles in width, separating the island of
Ceylon from the southernmost part of India. The pearl-oyster banks—known
locally as paars—are situated off the northwest coast of Ceylon and also
in the vicinity of Tuticorin on the Madras coast of the mainland. The
Ceylon fisheries are under the control of the colonial government of the
British Empire, and those of the mainland are monopolized by the Madras
government. Notwithstanding the fact that they are outside of the
three-mile limit established as the bound of national jurisdiction,
exclusive privileges are exercised over these fisheries by the
respective governments,[122] and poaching vessels are liable to seizure
and punishment.

Though possibly not so ancient as those of Persia, the Ceylon pearl
fisheries are of great antiquity. References to them occur in Cingalese
records dating from 550 B.C. Pliny, Ptolemy, Strabo, and other ancient
writers speak of their importance.

The “Periplus of the Erythræan”—written about the end of the second
century A.D.—refers to these fisheries, and states that, owing to the
dangers involved, it was customary to employ convicts therein. In the
days of the “Arabian Nights,” under the name “Serendib,” this was the
scene of the pearling adventures of Sindbad the Sailor, and the
reputation of the valuable pearl resources is reflected in those
wonderful tales.

The first extensive description we have of the Gulf of Manaar fisheries
was given by the Venetian traveler, Marco Polo, who visited the region
about 1294. He wrote:

The pearl fishers take their vessels, great and small, and proceed
into the gulf where they stop from the beginning of April till the
middle of May. They go first to a place called Bettelar, and then go
60 miles into the Gulf. Here they cast anchor and shift from their
large vessels into small boats. You must know that the many
merchants who go divide into various companies, and each of these
must engage a number of men on wages, hiring them for April and half
of May. Of all the produce they have first to pay the king, as his
royalty, the tenth part. And they must also pay those men who charm
the great fishes to prevent them from injuring the divers whilst
engaged in seeking pearls under water, one-twentieth of all that
they take. These fish-charmers are termined _Abraiaman_; and their
charm holds good for that day only, for at night they dissolve the
charm so that the fishes can work mischief at their will. These
_Abraiaman_ know also how to charm beasts and birds and every living
thing. When the men have got into the small boats they jump into the
water and dive to the bottom, which may be at a depth of from 4 to
12 fathoms, and there they remain as long as they are able. And
there they find the shells that contain the pearls, and those they
put into a net bag tied round the waist, and mount up to the surface
with them, and then dive anew. When they can’t hold their breath any
longer they come up again, and after a little down they go once
more, and so they go on all day. These shells are in fashion like
oysters or sea-hoods. And in these shells are found pearls, great
and small, of every kind, sticking in the flesh of the shell-fish.
In this manner pearls are fished in great quantities, for thence in
fact come the pearls which are spread all over the world. And I can
tell you the King of that State hath a very great receipt and
treasure from his dues upon those pearls.[123]

That quaint old missionary bishop, Friar Jordanus, in his “Mirabilia
Descripta, or the Wonders of the East” (_circa_ 1330), reports that
“more than 8000 boats” were sometimes employed for three months
continually in these fisheries, which were then prosecuted under the
jurisdiction of the Cingalese kings of Kandy, and that the quantity of
pearls taken was “astounding and almost incredible.”[124]

This number of boats seems entirely too large, especially in view of the
fact that Jordanus secured his information at second hand; but it leaves
the impression that the fisheries of that period were of great
importance.

When the Portuguese, attracted by the wealth of its resources, obtained
control of this region about 1510, they exacted from the local rulers an
annual tribute in pearls and spices. Later they conducted the fisheries
on their own account, permitting the native fishermen to retain one
fourth of the catch as compensation for their work, and dividing the
remainder into three equal portions, for the king, the church, and the
soldiers, respectively.

Linschoten, who visited India about 1590, leaves this interesting
account of the fishery at that time:

“There are also other fishings for pearle, as between the Iland of
Seylon, and the Cape de Comoriin, where great numbers are yearlie
found, for that the King of Portingale hath a captaine there with
soldiers that looketh unto it; they have yearlie at the least above
3 or 4 thousand duckers [divers], yt live onlie by fishing for
pearles, and so maintaine themselves.” He describes the methods of
fishing, which appear to be similar to those of the present time,
and adds: “When they have made an end of the day’s fishing, all the
fishers with the captaine, soldiers, laborers and watchmen for the
king, goe together, and taking all the pearls [pearl-oysters] that
are caught that day they divide them into certaine heaps, that is,
one part for the king, another part for the captaine and soldiers,
the third part for the Jesuits, because they have their Cloyster in
that place, and brought the countrie first into the Christian faith,
and the last part for the Fishers, which is done with Justice and
Equalitie. This fishing is done in the Summer tyme, and there
passeth not any yeare but that divers Fishers are drowned by the
Cape de Comoriin (which is called the King’s fishing) and manie
devoured by fishes, so that when the fishing is done there is great
and pitiful noyse and cry of women and children heard. Yet the next
yeare they must do the same work againe, for that they have no other
means to live, as also for that they are partlie compelled thereunto
by the Portingales, but most part because of the gaine.”[125]

The best description we have seen of the Ceylon fisheries at the time of
the Portuguese occupation, is that of Caesar Frederick, a Venetian
trader, who referred to the period from 1563 to 1581. Frederick
reported, according to Hickocke’s translation in the Hakluyt edition:

The sea that lieth between the coast which descendeth from Cao
Comori, to the lowe land of Chilao, and from Island Zeilan, they
call the fishing of Pearles, which fishing they make every yeare,
beginning in March or April, and it lasteth fiftie dayes, but they
doe not fishe every yeere in one place, but one yeere in one place,
and another yeere in another place of the same sea. When the time of
this fishing draweth neere, they send very good Divers, that goe to
discover where the greatest heapes of Oisters bee under water, and
right agaynst that place where greatest store of Oisters bee, there
they make or plant a village with houses and a Bazaro, which
standeth as long as the fishing time lasteth, and it is furnished
with all things necessarie, and nowe and then it is neere unto
places that are inhabited, and other times farre off, according to
the place where they fishe. The fishermen are all Christians of the
countrey, and who so will may goe to fishing, paying a certain dutie
to the king of Portugall, and to the Churches of the Friers of Saint
Paule, which are in that coast. All the while that they are fishing,
there are three or foure Fustes armed to defend the Fishermen from
Rovers. It was my chance to bee there one time in my passage, and I
saw the order that they used in fishing, which is this. There are
three or foure Barkes that make consort together, which are like to
our litle Pilot boates, and a little lesse, there goe seven or eight
men in a boate: and I have seene in a morning a great number of them
goe out, and anker in fifteene or eighteene fadome of water, which
is the ordinarie depth of all that coast. When they are at anker,
they cast a rope into the sea, and at the end of the rope, they make
fast a great stone, and then there is readie a man that hath his
nose and his eares well stopped, and annointed with oyle, and a
basket about his necke, or under his left arme, then he goeth downe
by the rope to the bottome of the Sea, and as fast as he can hee
filleth the basket, and when it is full, he shaketh the rope, and
his fellows that are in the Barke hale him up with the basket: and
in such wise they go one by one untill they have laden their barke
with oysters, and at evening they come to the village, and then
every company maketh their mountaine or heape of oysters one distant
from another, in such wise that you shall see a great long rowe of
mountaines or heapes of oysters, and they are not touched until such
time as the fishing bee ended, and at the ende of the fishing every
companie sitteth round about their mountaine or heape of oysters,
and fall to opening of them, which they may easilie doe because they
bee dead, drie and brittle: and if every oyster had pearles in them,
it would be a very good purchase, but there are very many that have
no pearles in them: when the fishing is ended, then they see whether
it bee a good gathering or a badde: there are certaine expert in the
pearles whom they call Chitini, which set and make the price of
pearles according to their carracts [carats or weight], beautie, and
goodnesse, making foure sorts of them. The first sort bee the round
pearles, and they bee called Aia of Portugale, because the
Portugales doe buy them. The second sorte which are not round, are
called Aia of Bengala. The third sort which are not so good as the
second, they call Aia of Canara, that is to say, the kingdome of
Bezeneger. The fourth and last sort, which are the least and worst
sort, are called Aia of Cambaia. Thus the price being set, there are
merchants of every countrey which are readie with their money in
their handes, so that in a fewe dayes all is brought up at the
prises set according to the goodnesse and caracts of the
pearles.[126]

A remarkable instance of the immutability of custom in the Orient is
found in the fact that, except in a few minor particulars, Frederick’s
account, written more than three centuries ago, could serve as a
description of the methods of the fisheries in recent years. The
industry was then very extensive, as appears from an account shortly
afterward (about 1608) by Pedro Teixeira, who reported[127] that from
400 to 500 boats were employed, and from 50,000 to 60,000 persons
resorted to the fishery.

In 1658, possession of Ceylon and India passed from the Portuguese to
the Dutch, who for a time continued the pearl fisheries after the manner
practised by their predecessors; but owing to contentions as to the
details of management, they soon resorted to leasing them each year to
the highest bidder, or to several bidders, for a definite money payment.
The successful bidders prosecuted the industry in the same manner as the
government had previously done, employing the same native fishermen and
compensating them with one fourth of the oysters secured. Under the
Dutch rule the fisheries were very unprofitable, and particularly so
during the last seventy years of their authority. There was practically
no fishing from 1732 to 1746, and there was also a suspension—but not
entirely from lack of oysters or of pearls—from 1768 until the territory
passed into the control of the British in 1796.

The colonial government of the British Empire continued the Dutch policy
of leasing, only restricting the limits of territory and season for
fishing. Many objections were found to this method. It was difficult to
regulate the business properly, and there were no reliable means of
determining its proceeds and conditions. At length in 1835, the
government began to operate the fishery on its own account, as the
Portuguese had done two hundred years before, allowing the fishermen one
fourth of the oysters taken by them and selling the remaining three
fourths for the benefit of the treasury. In this way the full value of
the resources was realized without mystery, deception, or concealment,
and the plan worked satisfactorily for all concerned.

Owing, presumably, to the long period in which they had lain
undisturbed, the Ceylon oyster reefs were in excellent condition at the
beginning of British rule. In 1796 the government derived a revenue of
Rs.1,100,000 therefrom, and in 1797 the revenue was Rs.1,400,000; these
two years were by far the most productive during the first century of
British occupation.

Several very interesting reports on the industry were prepared about
that time. Especially to be noted among these were the accounts by Henry
J. LeBeck in 1798;[128] by Robert Percival in 1803;[129] and by James
Cordiner in 1807,[130] to which reference is made for detailed accounts
of the fisheries of that period.

The Ceylon fishery was prosecuted about every other year from 1799 to
1809, and the annual returns ranged from £15,022 in 1801 to £84,257 in
1808. From 1810 to 1813, inclusive, there was a blank so far as receipts
were concerned. In 1814 the fishery was very good, bringing in a revenue
of £105,187. With the exception of very slight returns in 1815, 1816,
and 1820, no oysters were then obtained until 1828. Excepting 1832 and
1834, the industry was prosecuted each year from 1828 to 1837, the
revenue to the government averaging about £30,000 annually. Then came a
long blank of seventeen years, for there was no fishing from 1838 to
1854, and likewise from 1864 to 1873. Indeed, so depleted had the beds
throughout the Gulf of Manaar become in 1866, that serious consideration
was given to the possibilities of securing seed oysters from the Persian
Gulf for restocking the reefs; but fortunately this was rendered
unnecessary by the discovery soon afterward of a few oysters on several
reefs on both the Ceylon and the Malabar coasts.

From 1855 to 1863, and also from 1874 to 1881, the returns were only
ordinary, the highest being £51,017 in 1863, and £59,868 in 1881,—the
best year since 1814; and during these two periods fishing was entirely
omitted in nearly one half the seasons. There were five lean years from
1882 to 1886, and the 1887 fishery was only fair, with a yield of
£39,609. But the returns for 1888 were large, amounting to £80,424; and
those for 1891 were even greater, being £96,370, representing a yield of
44,311,441 oysters. No oysters were caught from 1892 to 1902, inclusive.
In 1903, the fishery was profitable, yielding 41,180,137 oysters, and
the share of the government amounted to £55,303; and in 1904 the yield
was almost the same, being 41,039,085 oysters and a revenue of £71,050
to the government.

In 1905 occurred the greatest fishery in the modern history of Ceylon.
The season extended from February 20 until April 21, giving forty-seven
working days, exclusive of Sundays and five days of bad weather, the
longest period in over half a century.[131] The boats employed numbered
318, with 4991 divers and 4894 attendant _manduks_. The yield of oysters
exceeded all records, amounting to 81,580,716 in number, or nearly twice
as many as in any previous year within the period of British occupation.
The prices at which these sold ranged from Rs.24 to Rs.124 per thousand,
with an average of Rs.48.89 for the entire season. The government
received Rs.2,510,727 as its share of the revenue, which was twice as
much as in any previous year since the British have been in control, and
doubtless the largest received by any government in the history of the
industry. The oysters falling to the share of the divers must have sold
for at least Rs.1,255,363 (since 1881 the divers have received one third
of the catch as their compensation, instead of one fourth). The profits
of the merchants, who purchased and opened the government oysters as
well as those of the divers, doubtless amounted to fully as much, making
a total of Rs.5,021,453, or nearly $2,000,000 as a low estimate of the
local value of the pearls secured at Ceylon in 1905.

Owing to the great success in 1905, an enormous number of persons
flocked to the camp at the beginning of the season in 1906. Employment
was given to 473 boats, the largest number on record, and over 8600
divers were engaged, with an equal number of attendants. Owing to
unfavorable weather and the great quantity of oysters removed in 1905,
the catch in 1906 was less than in that record year, amounting to
67,150,641 in number, from the sale of which Rs.1,376,746 was realized.
The prices covered a wide range. For the large Cheval oysters, even
Rs.276, Rs.291, and Rs.309 per 1000 were received. The inferior, stunted
oysters from the Muttuvaratu paar ranged from Rs.20 to Rs.41 per 1000,
and even at these prices many buyers sustained losses. On the other hand
considerable money was made by the buyers of those from Cheval, in which
some very large and beautiful pearls were found.

The results of the 1907 fishery were surprisingly good, excellent prices
being obtained. The proceeds from the sale of two thirds of the
21,000,000 oysters amounted to Rs.1,040,000, or just under $350,000. The
fishery lasted thirty-six working days. Only 173 boats were used, as it
was considered that a fleet of this size is fully as large as can be
employed advantageously to the greatest satisfaction of all interested.

According to the compilations of the colonial secretary’s office, the
gross revenue to the government from 1796 to 1907, inclusive, amounted
to £2,098,830. If to this be added the fishermen’s share and the
merchants’ compensation, we have a total of about £4,200,000 or
$21,000,000 as the local value of the pearls produced in Ceylon during
the period of British occupation. The value of these in the markets of
Asia and Europe was undoubtedly very much greater.

In many respects the Ceylon pearl fisheries are the most interesting in
the world. Owing to their ready accessibility and thorough organization,
they are far better known than any others. Reliable data exist as to the
number of oysters taken during each season since 1854, and it is
possible to estimate roughly the pearls obtained therefrom. Throughout
the 112 years of British occupation, and previously to some extent under
the successive rule of the Cingalese kings, of the Portuguese, and of
the Dutch, for centuries, the reefs were annually examined by official
inspectors, and fishing was permitted only in those years when they
appeared in satisfactory condition.

A noticeable feature of these fisheries is their uncertainty, a
prosperous season being followed by an absence of fishing sometimes
extending over ten years or more. This is not of recent development.
Over eight hundred years ago a total cessation of yield for a
considerable period was recorded[132] by Albyrouni, who served under
Mahmud of Ghazni. He stated that, in the eleventh century, the oysters
which formerly existed in the Gulf of Serendib (Ceylon) disappeared
simultaneously with the appearance of a fishery at Sofala in the country
of the Zends, where previously the existence of pearls had been unknown;
hence it was conjectured that the pearl-oysters of Serendib had migrated
to Sofala.

In the 249 years since Ceylon passed from the dominion of the Portuguese
in 1658, there have been only sixty-nine years in which the pearl
fisheries were prosecuted. During the last century there were only
thirty-six regularly authorized fisheries. Enormous quantities of
oysters have appeared on the reefs, giving rise to hopes of great
results, only to end in disappointment, owing to their complete
disappearance. In the fall of 1887, for instance, examination of one of
the reefs revealed an enormous quantity of oysters, covering an area
five miles in length by one and a half miles in width, with “600 to 700
oysters to the square yard” in places. It was estimated by the
inspection officials that there were 164,000,000 oysters, which exceeded
the total number taken in the preceding sixty years, and which should
have yielded several million dollars’ worth of pearls in the following
season, according to the usual returns. But some months later not an
oyster was to be found on this large reef, the great host presumably
having been destroyed by action of the sea. Numerous reasons are
assigned for the failure of promising reefs. Those most frequently heard
are that the currents sweep the oysters away, that they are devoured by
predaceous enemies, that they are covered by the shifting bottom, or
that they voluntarily move to new grounds.

The oysters are found in well-known and permanently located banks or
paars in the upper end of the Gulf of Manaar, in the wide shallow
plateau off the northwest end of the island and directly south of Adams
Bridge. The hard calcrete bottom is formed mostly of sand combined with
organic remains in a compact mass and with more or less coral and shell
deposits. The density of the water, as determined by Professor Herdman
(to whose important and valuable report[133] we are indebted for much
information), is fairly constant at 1.023, and the temperature has a
normal range of from 82° to 86° F. during the greater part of the year.
The charts and records refer to about twenty paars, but most of these
have never yielded extensively, either to the English or to the Dutch.
In the aggregate, they cover an area fifty miles in length and twenty
miles in width. Most of them are from five to twenty miles from the
shore, and at a depth of five to ten fathoms. The principal paars are
Cheval, Madaragam, Periya, Muttuvaratu, Karativu, Vankalai, Chilaw, and
Condatchy. Only three have afforded profitable fisheries in recent
years, _i. e._: Cheval, Madaragam and Muttuvaratu.

The other paars are of practically no economic value at the present
time. They become populated with tens of millions of oysters, which
mysteriously disappear before they are old enough for gathering.
Especially is this true of the Periya paar, which is about fifteen miles
from the shore, and runs eleven miles north and south, varying from one
to two miles in width. Frequently this is found covered with young
oysters, which almost invariably disappear before the next inspection,
owing, probably, to their being covered by the shifting bottom caused by
the southwest monsoon. The natives call this the “Mother paar,” under
the impression that these oysters migrate to the other paars.

The Ceylon government has given very careful attention to all matters
affecting the prosperity of the pearl resources. It has maintained a
“Pearl Fishery Establishment,” consisting of a superintendent, an
inspector and numerous divers, attendants, and sailors. The inspector
examines the paars, determines when and to what extent they should be
fished, and directs the operations. The superintendent conducts the work
on shore, divides and sells the oysters, etc. The expense of this
establishment has approximated $40,000 per annum when there has been a
fishery, and about $22,500 without fishery expenses.

It has been decided by naturalists that Ceylon oysters less than four
years old produce very few marketable pearls; in the fifth, and again in
the sixth year the value of the yield doubles, and in the seventh it is
supposed to increase fourfold. Beyond that age there appears to be
little increase, and there is the risk of the oysters dying, and of the
pearls deteriorating or becoming lost. Eight years seems to be the
natural limit of life. While experience has shown that the most
profitable period for taking the pearl-oysters is when they are from
five to seven years old, the mollusks are liable to disappear,
especially after the fifth year, and the danger of waiting too long is
as great as that of beginning too early. The fishing on any particular
bank is determined by various circumstances and conditions, and is
permitted only after careful examination.

The different beds are inspected from time to time, and no fishing is
permitted until the condition of the pearl-oysters on the particular
reef thrown open seems to warrant the most valuable returns. In the
examination of a bed apparently in suitable condition, several thousand
oysters—usually eight or ten thousand—are taken up and the pearls found
therein are examined and valued. If they average Rs.25 or Rs.30 per
thousand oysters, profitable results may be expected, provided there is
a sufficient quantity of oysters on the bed. This method of determining
the fishery is very ancient. Tavernier wrote, about 1650, “before they
fish, they try whether it will turn to any account by sending seven or
eight boats to bring 1000 oysters each, which they open, and if the
oysters per 1000 yield five _fanos_ or above, they then know the fishing
will turn to account.”[134] And much the same method was described by
Ribeiro in 1685.

When it has been decided to hold a fishery, public notice is given by
advertisement, stating which of the many paars or reefs will be open,
and the estimated quantity of oysters to be removed, the number of boats
that will be given employment, and the date for beginning the season and
the length of time it will probably last. This notice is usually given
in December preceding the fishery, and it is the signal for preparation
by tens of thousands of persons in this part of Asia, and especially on
the Madras and the Malabar coasts of India, and on the coast of Arabia.
The fishermen, the merchants, and the multitude of artisans, mechanics,
and laborers who contribute to the industry, set their homes and
business in order so that they may attend. We give the notice issued in
1907, both in Cingalese and in English.[135]

Early in February the area to be gleaned is again examined, the limits
of the oysters are charted and buoyed off, the number that may be
obtained is estimated as accurately as possible, and valuation samples
are collected. Several thousand oysters are taken up, the pearls are
removed, examined, and valued by uninterested experts, and the results
are published, so that prospective buyers may have a reliable idea as to
their value. Otherwise this would not be possible until the merchants
had washed some of their own purchases, which ordinarily would not be
for a week or ten days after the opening of the season.

The fishery usually begins late in February or early in March, as the
sea is then relatively calm, the currents least perceptible, and there
is less danger of storms. It is prosecuted from a temporary settlement
or camp on the sandy shore at a place conveniently near the reefs. The
important fisheries of the five years ending in 1907, were centered at
the improvised settlement known as Marichchikadde. Although prosecuted
from the coast of Ceylon, relatively few Cingalese attend compared with
the large numbers who assemble from India, Arabia, and elsewhere.

A week or two before the opening of the season, the boats begin to
arrive, sometimes fifty or more in a single day, laden with men, women
and children, and in many cases with the materials for their huts. In a
short time the erstwhile desolate beach becomes populated with thousands
of persons from all over the Indian littoral, and there is the noisy
traffic of congregated humanity, and a confusion of tongues where before
only the sound of the ocean waves was heard. Beside the eight or ten
thousand fishermen, most of whom are Moormen, Tamils, and Arabs, there
are pearl merchants—mainly Chetties and Moormen, boat repairers and
other mechanics, provision dealers, priests, pawnbrokers, government
officials, koddu-counters, clerks, boat guards, a police force of 200
officials, coolies, domestic servants, with numbers of women and
children. And for the entertainment of these, and to obtain a share of
the wealth from the sea, there are jugglers, fakirs, gamblers, beggars,
female dancers, loose characters, with every allurement that appeals to
the sons of Brahma, Buddha or Mohammed. Natives from the seaport towns
of India are there in thousands; the slender-limbed and
delicate-featured Cingalese with their scant attire and unique
head-dress; energetic Arabs from the Persian Gulf; burly Moormen, sturdy
Kandyans, outcast Veddahs, Chinese, Jews, Portuguese, Dutch,
half-castes, the scum of the East and the riffraff of the Asiatic
littoral, the whole making up a temporary city of forty thousand or more
inhabitants.[136]

 


THE
Ceylon Company of Pearl Fishers,
LIMITED.


NOTICE


Is hereby given that a Pearl Fishery will take place at
Marichchukkaddi, in the Island of Ceylon, on or about February 20,
1907.

The Banks to be fished are—

The Karativu, Dutch Moderagam and Alanturai Pars, estimated to contain
21,000,000 oysters, sufficient to employ 100 boats for twenty-one days
with average loads of 10,000 each per day.

The Northwest and Mid-West Cheval, estimated to contain 2,000,000
oysters, sufficient to employ 100 boats for two days with average
loads of 10,000 oysters.

The Muttuvaratu Par, estimated to contain 8,000,000 oysters,
sufficient to employ 100 boats for eight days with average loads as
before stated: each boat being fully manned with divers.

2. It is notified that fishing will begin on the first favourable day
after February 19. Conditions governing the employment of divers will
be issued separately.

3. Marichchukkaddi is on the mainland, eight miles by sea south of
Sillavaturai, and supplies of good water and provisions can be
obtained there.

4. The Fishery will be conducted on account of the Ceylon Company of
Pearl Fishers, Ltd., and the oysters put up to sale in such lots as
may be deemed expedient.

A populous town springs up with well-planned and lighted streets and
vast numbers of temporary abodes of all sorts, according to the means
and the caste of the occupants, some of them just large enough for two
or three persons to creep into. Although made mostly of poles, mats,
_cajans_ or plaited fronds of the cocoanut tree, they furnish ample
shelter for the locality and season, the uncertainty of the fishery from
year to year being sufficient argument against expensive and substantial
buildings. Numerous wells and cisterns yield water for the use of all.
Sanitary measures are strictly enforced, with a liberal use of
disinfectants. At a considerable distance southward from the settlement
are constructed the private _toddis_, or inclosures, for decomposing the
oysters and washing the pearls therefrom. Nearer the camp or settlement
itself are the police court, the jail, the bank, the post and telegraph
offices, the auction room, the hospital and the cemetery—all to endure
through a strenuous six weeks of toil and labor, of money-getting and
gambling, and then the inhabitants “fold their tents like the Arabs, and
silently steal away,” leaving the debris to the shore-birds and the
jackals.

The fishing fleet consists of several hundred boats[137] of various rigs
and sizes. These are interesting on account of their picturesque
appearance and also their remarkable diversity of types in hull and
rigging: there is the broad and roomy Jaffna dhoney, commonly painted
black; the lugger-like Paumben boat; the very narrow and speedy
canoes,—not unlike the single masted bugeyes of the Chesapeake
region—from Kilakarai and neighboring villages, most noticeable owing to
their great number and their bright colors—red, green, or yellow; the
clumsy looking, single masted Tuticorin lighters, sharp sterned and
copper bottomed, the largest boats in the fleet, ranging in capacity
from twenty to forty tons each; and, most singular of all, the three
masted great canoes from Adirampatnam and Muttupat on the Tanjore coast,
pale blue in color and with curved prow. In addition to these standard
types, added novelty is imparted by a few boats of design so odd and
fantastic as would be conceived only by the mind of an oriental builder.

Reaching the camp at the beginning of the season, these boats are
examined by the officials as to condition and equipment and, if found
satisfactory, are registered and numbered. When the quantity of oysters
to be removed is small, many more boats may arrive than is necessary or
than can find profitable employment. Formerly when this occurred a
lottery was held to determine those to be employed. More recently the
officials have endeavored to engage all boats passing the inspection,
although to do so might necessitate arranging the fleet into two
divisions, each fishing on alternate days. In 1874, the boats were
arranged in three divisions, the red, blue and green, with fifty boats
in each; in 1879, and again in 1881, there were two divisions, the red
and the blue; and likewise in 1880, in 1903 and in 1906 there were two,
the red and the white divisions. Of the 318 boats employed in the 1905
fishery, 143 were from Kilakarai, seventy-four from Jaffna, thirty-five
from Tuticorin, thirty-four from Paumben, nine from Manaar, six from
Negapatam, five from Colombo, four each from Tondi and Kayalpatam, and
one each from Devipatam, Adrapatam, Ammopatam, and Koddaipatam.

The number of persons on each boat ranges from about twelve to
sixty-five, with an average for the entire fleet of about thirty-five
men per boat. This includes the _sammatti_, or master, who represents
the owner; the _tindal_, or pilot; the _todai_, or water-bailer, who is
very necessary on these leaky craft, and who also takes charge of the
food and drinking water; at times a government inspector or “boat
guard”; and from five to thirty divers, with an equal number of
_manducks_, or attendants.[138] The _sammattis_, _tindals_, and _todais_
are nearly all from the coast of southern India. The “boat guards” or
inspectors are natives of Ceylon, and are employed by the government to
prevent the fishermen from opening the oysters. Most of the _manducks_
are from the Indian coast.

Of the 4991 divers employed in 1905, 2649 were Moormen or Lubbais from
Kilakarai, Tondi, etc., on the Madura coast; 923 were Arabs; 424 were
Erukkalampiddi Moormen from Ceylon, and the remaining 995 were Tamils
from Tuticorin, Rameswaram and elsewhere on the Madras coast, Malayalans
from the Malabar coast, with small numbers from other localities on the
Asiatic coasts.

Among the 8600 divers in 1906, were 4090 Arabs, the largest number of
those people employed in recent years. In 1905 there were only 923 Arab
divers, in 1904 only 238, and previously the number was much less. Some
have worked on the Ceylon coast since 1887, but most of them are newly
arrived from Bahrein and Kuweit, where they received their training as
pearl-divers. They are very energetic and skilful fishermen, far
surpassing the Tamils, coming early in the season and staying late, and
working on many days when rough seas deter the Indian divers from
venturing out.

The Erukkalampiddi divers of Ceylon are by no means so energetic or
steady in work as the Arabs, and commonly desert the fishery before the
close. The Tamil divers belong to the Parawa and Kadeiyar castes.

The season in the Ceylon fishery is very short, only about six or eight
weeks at the most; and the holidays and storms usually reduce the number
of actual working days to less than thirty. In no other pearl fishery of
importance is the season less than four months in length, and in most of
them it extends through more than half of the year. Owing to this
restricted time, there is greater activity in the Ceylon fishery
compared with the value of the output than in any other pearl fishery in
the world.

Although the season is short, it is strenuous. Arising shortly after
midnight, the thousands of fishermen breakfast, perform their devotions
and prepare to get under way so as to reach the reefs about sunrise.
There each boat takes its position on the ground allotted for the day’s
work, and which has been marked in advance by buoys topped with flags;
and shortly afterward, on a signal from the guard vessel, the diving
commences. This is carried on in the same manner as already described
for the Persian Gulf, except that the Indian divers do not use
nose-clips, only compressing the nostrils with the fingers during the
descent. Rarely do they descend to a greater depth than ten fathoms.

The divers work in pairs, each pair using a single diving stone in
common, and descending alternately, precisely as in the Persian Gulf. It
is remarkable what few changes have occurred in the methods of the
fishery in the last six centuries; the description[139] of Marco Polo,
who visited the region about 1294, and of writers somewhat more recent,
indicating that, in the main features, it was then conducted in the same
manner as at the present time.

An exception to the usual mode of diving is practised by the Malayalam
fishermen, who, in some seasons—as in 1903, for instance—attend in large
numbers from Travancore and northward on the Malabar coast. These men
are rather low in skill and physical endurance.[140] They dive head
foremost from a spring-board, and even with this assistance,—or possibly
we should say, handicapped by this method,—they find the average depth
of eight fathoms too great for them to work in with much comfort, rarely
remaining under water longer than forty-five seconds.

The number of oysters secured on each visit to the bottom ranges from
nothing to seventy-five or more, averaging between fifteen and fifty.
This depends not only on the ability of the fishermen, but also on the
abundance of oysters and the ease with which they may be collected.
Sometimes they are held together in loose bunches of five to ten in
each, and a diver can easily gather one hundred in the short length of
time he remains submerged. In other localities they may be somewhat
firmly attached individually to the bottom, so that some force is
necessary to release them, thus reducing the possible quantity.
Ordinarily one dive clears a space of several square yards.

Since 1904, a steamer has been employed each season by the government
for dredging oysters in connection with experiments in oyster-culture.
The officer in charge of this work concludes that “dredging is
economically a more sound method of fishing than is diving.”[141] This
view is disputed by the superintendent of the fishery, who points out
that the average catch by the steamer when dredging mature oysters only
slightly exceeds that of an ordinary diving boat, and the cost of
maintenance and operation is vastly greater.[142] A remarkable tribute
to the skill of the nude divers, brought out by this discussion, is
that, during some days when they were at work, the sea was too rough for
dredging by the steamer, notwithstanding that she was a typical Grimsby
or North Sea trawler of 150 tons measurement, built in 1896.[143]

A rough comparison of the Ceylon method of catching pearl-oysters with
that practised by the American oyster-growers may not be uninteresting.
On a basis of 400 to the bushel, the total Ceylon catch of 81,580,716
pearl-oysters in 1905 represents a trifle more than 200,000 bushels, or
about the quantity annually produced by each of the half dozen leading
oyster-growers of this country. Each one of these growers requires only
about three steamers, at a total cost, maybe, of $25,000, and manned by
twenty-five men; instead of one steamer at a cost of $25,000 and 318
diving boats manned by 10,000 men, which was the equipment in Ceylon. To
be sure, the conditions under which the work is prosecuted are
different—however, not so entirely unlike as might be supposed—and the
American season is about six months long instead of the two months in
Ceylon; but the comparison is presented simply as a suggestion of the
possibilities of dredging on the Ceylon reefs.

Until 1885, one of the most novel features of the fishery was the
employment of shark-charmers or “binders of sharks” (_kadal-kotti_ in
the Tamil language, _hai-banda_ in Hindustani), whose presence was
rendered necessary by the superstition of the Indian divers. The
fishermen placed implicit reliance upon the alleged supernatural powers
of these impostors, resembling in some respects that reposed in the
“medicine men” by the American Indians, and would not dive without their
supervision. It is unknown at what period the influence of these
semi-priests developed, but at the time of Marco Polo’s visit about
1294, they were in the full bloom of their authority, receiving one
twentieth of the total catch of oysters,[144] which amounted to a very
considerable sum. It is probable that the number of shark-charmers was
then quite large, some writers more recently referring to one for each
boat. During the Portuguese occupation the number was reduced to twelve,
and at the beginning of the British influence, it was further reduced to
two.

Interesting descriptions have been given of the methods by which these
men exercised their alleged powers. In 1807, Cordiner stated:

One goes out regularly in the head pilot’s boat. The other performs
certain ceremonies on shore. He is stripped naked, and shut up in a
room, where no person sees him from the period of the sailing of the
boats until their return. He has before him a brass basin full of
water, containing one male and one female fish made of silver. If
any accident should happen from a shark at sea, it is believed that
one of these fishes is seen to bite the other. The divers likewise
believe that, if the conjurer should be dissatisfied, he has the
power of making the sharks attack them, on which account he is sure
of receiving liberal presents from all quarters.[145]

Amusing stories are told of the shrewdness displayed by these fellows in
inventing explanations to redeem their credit when a fisherman became a
victim of the sharks. These accounts are by men who evidently bore no
good-will toward the shark-charmers, and it would be of interest to hear
from the other side; but we have been unable to find any one who has
appeared in print in their defense.

The British government, in its policy of noninterference with the
superstitions or semi-religious customs of the natives, tolerated these
seeming impostors, owing, probably, in a measure, to the fact that the
superstitious belief in their necessity was favorable to the
preservation of the resources, since it restricted poaching on the
reefs. However, the government endeavored to prevent an extravagant
misuse of the influence, and restricted the compensation of the
shark-charmers to one oyster per day from each diver. Later, they were
remunerated by the government, and were not allowed, under any pretense
whatever, to demand, exact, or receive oysters or any other compensation
from the boatmen, divers, or any other persons. And, finally, in 1885,
the shark-charmers were done away with entirely, after having exacted
their toll for upward of six centuries at least.

The dangers to which the Ceylon divers are exposed have been greatly
exaggerated, and especially the risks from sharks. Poets tell how “the
Ceylon pearler went all naked to the hungry shark,” and the struggle of
the diver has been a favorite theme with sensational writers. As a
matter of fact, the trouble from this source is very slight, and the
occupation is less dangerous than that of most of the deep-water
fisheries, not to be compared, for instance, with that of the winter
haddock-fishery off the New England coast. Even in 1905, when 4991
divers and an equal number of assistants were employed in pearling, not
a single fatal accident was reported, and although much rough weather
prevailed, not a fishing boat was lost. In the important fishery of
1904, with 3049 divers, only one fatal accident occurred, this was an
elderly Moorman, whose death at the bottom was apparently due either to
apoplexy or to exhaustion from remaining under water too long.

The superintendent of the fishery reported that not a single shark was
seen during the 1904 season.[146] According to the statement of Sir
William Twynam, whose Ceylon pearl fishing experience and observation
equal those of any European, he has never known of a diver being carried
off by a shark, and has heard of only one case—“which was a very
doubtful one.”[147] Prof. James Hornell, the inspector of pearl banks,
reported in 1904: “During all the months I have spent upon the pearl
banks during the last two years and a half I have never had a glimpse of
a shark dangerous to man. Several times the boatmen have caught basking
sharks of considerable size, but all were of a species that lives almost
entirely upon small crustaceans.”[148] The late Mr. A. M. Ferguson wrote
in 1887: “I think it is pretty certain that in the whole course of the
Ceylon fisheries only two human beings have fallen victims to these
fierce fishes.”[149]

The diving continues until a signal is given from the guard vessel about
twelve or one o’clock, this time depending largely on the beginning of
the sea breeze which roughens the water and interferes with the work,
and likewise serves to speed the passage of the sail vessels to the
shore. Occasionally the breeze is unfavorable, and the boatmen are
obliged to row for miles, delaying their return in some instances until
nightfall. Then the shore is lighted up to guide them to the landings,
and extra precautions are maintained to prevent them from getting away
with some of the oysters in the darkness.

It is claimed—and doubtless with much truth—that it is not unusual for
the boatmen to take advantage of the time spent in reaching the shore to
surreptitiously open many of the oysters and extract the pearls
therefrom, throwing the refuse back into the sea. It would appear from
some authorities that this is a general practice. One official—and
probably the one in the best position to know—reported in 1905 that more
than 15,000,000 oysters, or nearly one fifth of the enormous catch
during that season, were illicitly opened.[150] However, this statement
is strongly disputed by the superintendent of the fishery, who states:

As a matter of fact the opening of oysters that goes on in the boats
is of a much more casual description than this. The divers
occasionally pick out some of the best looking oysters that happen
to be conspicuous, or some that open, and look inside them. It is
quite possible that a valuable pearl might be found in this way, but
the chances are against it. It is hardly likely that the divers
would throw into the sea an enormous quantity of perfunctorily
examined oysters in which they have a share and which contain
pearls, while they were aware that immediately on landing they could
get good prices for their shares.[151]

The government officials have endeavored to put a stop to whatever
looting may exist, searching boats and occupants at the shore, revoking
the license of any boat showing evidence of oysters having been opened
or carrying knives or other appliances for that purpose. The fishermen
are alleged to resort to all sorts of devices to secrete their illicit
find of pearls, concealing them in the nose, ears, eyes, and other parts
of the body, and even hiding them in parcels in the furled sails or
attached to the embedded anchor. In some seasons—as in 1904 and 1905—the
government employed a guard for each boat. But serious criticism has
been made of the integrity of these guards, who, with compensation of
only one rupee per diem, could scarcely be expected to resist the action
of thirty or forty fishermen and report their doings, when by silence
they would have much to gain, and “the guards simply add to the number
of thieves on board” was reported by one superintendent.

Doubtless the most interesting sight in the Ceylon fishery is afforded
by the return, about mid-afternoon, of the hundreds of novel,
sail-spreading boats running before the wind and crowded with turbaned
fishermen dressed in their few brilliant rags, and each anxious to be
the first at the wave-washed beach, where they are welcomed by an equal
if not greater number of officials, merchants, laborers, and camp
followers, gathered on the shore to learn the result of the fishery. The
fantastic appearance of the boats, the diversified costumes of the
people, the general scene of animation, afford a view which for novelty
is rarely equaled even in the picturesque Orient.

The average number of oysters brought in daily by each boat is about
10,000. Some days when the weather is unfavorable many of the boats
return empty; on other days they may have 25,000 or more. In 1905 the
maximum catch in one day for one boat was 29,990, while in 1904 a single
boat brought in 37,675 oysters. The catch by the entire fleet one day in
1905 was 4,978,686 oysters, or an average of 16,485 for each of the 302
boats out on that occasion.

Each person taking part in the fishery receives as his compensation a
definite portion of the oysters. By government regulations, published in
1855 and yet operative, each _sammatti_, _tindal_, and _todai_ receives
daily one dive of oysters from each diver in the boat to which they are
respectively attached. In some instances the hire of the boat is paid
for in cash—about Rs.1.50 per day from each diver,—but in most cases
either one fifth or one sixth of each diver’s portion is devoted to this
purpose. After these provisions have been made, each diver gives one
third of his remaining portion to his _manduck_, retaining the balance
for himself. The Moormen divers from Kilakarai commonly contribute one
dive daily to the mosque of their native town,[152] in addition to the
portions given to the _sammatti_, _tindal_, and _todai_. Previous to
1855, the Hindu temples of the Madras Presidency were allowed to operate
a certain number of boats on their own account, but this led to so many
abuses that it was abolished.

After the boats are run up on the firm, hard beach, all the oysters are
removed by the crews of the boats into the government _koddu_ or
palisade, a large wattle-walled and palm-thatched inclosure with square
pens, each bearing a number corresponding to that of each boat. This is
done under close supervision to prevent a diversion of the oysters from
the regular channels, which otherwise would be relatively easy among the
animation and excitement caused by the thousands of persons about the
landing-place.

Within the government inclosure, the oysters taken by each boat are
divided by the fishermen themselves into three portions as nearly equal
as possible. This applies not only to the oysters falling to the share
of the divers and _manducks_, but also to those set apart for the
_sammatti_, _tindals_, and _todais_, for hire of the boat and even for
the Kilakarai mosque. An official indicates one of these as the share of
the fishermen, who at once remove their portion from the inclosure
through a narrow gate on the landward side. By this arrangement a
satisfactory division of the oysters is secured and all cause for
complaint or unfairness is removed. Previous to 1881, the fishermen
received only one fourth of the catch as compensation for their work;
but in that year their portion was increased to one third, at which it
has since remained.

As soon as the fishermen pass out of the government _koddu_ with their
quota, they are met by a crowd of natives eager to buy the oysters in
small lots, and frequently at so many per rupee—ranging from eight to
twelve ordinarily. This “outside market” is one of the many interesting
features of the camp, for there are few persons on the shore who do not
risk small sums in testing their fortunes in this lottery. And a
wonderful lottery it is too, in which a man may risk a few coppers and
win a prize worth hundreds of dollars. A poor Tamil once bought five
oysters for half a rupee, and in one of them he found the largest pearl
of the season. Any not sold among this eager, animated throng are at
once marketed with a native buyer. The diver then hastens to immerse
himself in one of the bathing tanks provided for the purpose. It is
claimed that if this bath is omitted after immersion all the morning in
the salt water of the gulf, the diver is liable to fall ill; and a
sufficient supply of fresh water for this purpose is an important factor
in the arrangement of the camp.

Owing to their sale in much smaller lots, or as we may say, at retail,
the fishermen succeed in getting relatively high prices for their
oysters, and their earnings exceed one half of the government’s share.
In 1905 this amounted to probably £86,000, or an average of about $1350
for each of the 318 boats. However, some crews made very much more than
this, with a corresponding decrease for the others. Although 1905 was a
record year for large returns, even in an ordinary season pearl fishing
is relatively profitable, as a skilled diver earns five or six times as
much as a common laborer in Ceylon. The regulations particularly forbid
the employment of divers for a monetary consideration instead of for a
share of the oysters according to the established custom.

The remaining two thirds of the oysters in the _koddu_ are the property
of the government. These are combined and counted. At nine o’clock each
evening they are sold at auction, and by noon of the following day all
have been removed, and the inclosure is ready for the incoming catch.

At the auction the number of oysters to be sold that evening is
announced, and bids are invited. Some one starts the bidding at, maybe,
Rs.20 or 25, and this is advanced by successive bids until the limit
appears to be reached, which may possibly be Rs.50 or 60. The successful
bidder is permitted to take as many oysters in multiples of 1000 as he
chooses; and after he is supplied, other merchants desiring them at that
particular price are accommodated. If there is no further demand for
them at that price, the bidding on the remaining oysters is begun
precisely as at first, and when the maximum bid is reached, all
merchants willing to give that amount are furnished with as many as they
wish in multiples of 1000 as before. If this does not exhaust the
oysters, the bidding on the remainder is started up again, and so on
until all are sold.[153] No one knows at the time whether he is buying a
fortune in gems or only worthless shells.

The prices at which the oysters are sold at auction may differ greatly
from the estimated valuation of the samples secured in the February
examination. For instance, in 1905 the valuation of the South Madaragam
oysters was Rs.17.86 per 1000, yet the auction sales on the first day
began at Rs.53 and went up to Rs.61 per 1000, or three times the
valuation; and about the same general proportion of increase prevailed
for the oysters from the remaining banks, a result of great advances in
the market for pearls.

The auction prices for the different lots and from day to day are fairly
constant. But the shrewd Indian merchants know their business well and
keep in close touch with the yield, so that there are many variations in
the selling price that are puzzling to the uninitiated. A somewhat
higher estimation is placed on the oysters from certain banks, and also
on those from rocky portions of a particular reef, owing to their
reputation for yielding a larger percentage of pearls. The estimation of
particular oysters varies to some extent according to the amount of
adhering rock and coral growth. As already shown, the prices in 1906
covered the remarkable range of from Rs.20 to 309 per 1000.
Superstitious belief in luck also has its influence, and a buyer may
consider a certain day as unfavorable for him and abstain from bidding
on that occasion; or considering a particular day as lucky, he may bid
very high to secure a considerable portion of the sales.

The prices in different seasons vary greatly. In 1860, the average was
Rs.134.23 per 1000, which was unprecedentedly large; the nearest to this
was Rs.79.07 in 1874 and Rs.49 in 1905. In 1880, the average price per
1000 was only Rs.11, which was the lowest ever recorded. The records for
individual days greatly exceed these limits. The highest figures at
which oysters have sold on any one day was Rs.309 per 1000 in 1906, the
equivalent for each oyster of 10½ cents in American money. In 1874, the
price reached Rs.210 per 1000, and in 1905, the maximum price was
Rs.124, or about 4¼ cents for each oyster.

The oyster-buyers are principally wealthy Chetties from Madura, Ramnad,
Trichinopoli, Parambakudi, Tevakoddai, Paumben, Kumbhakonam, and other
towns of southern India. These are quite different from the scantily
clothed Naddukoddai Chetties so common in Ceylon. Many of them are
fashionably dressed in semi-European costume, with walking-stick, patent
leather boots, and other evidences of contact with Europe. Smaller
quantities of oysters are purchased by Moormen of Kilakarai, Ramnad,
Bombay, Adrampatam, Tondi, etc. A few oysters are also purchased by the
Nadans or Chánár caste people of Perunali, Kamuti, and Karakal. Over 99
per cent. of the 50,346,601 oysters sold by the government in 1905 were
secured by Indian buyers, and less than one per cent. by Cingalese. A
few of the oysters—from two to five per cent.—are sent to Indian and
Ceylon ports, but most of them are opened at the fishing camp.

The purchaser of only a small number of oysters may open them at once by
means of a knife, and with his fingers and eyes search for the pearls.
By this method very small pearls may be easily overlooked, and it is
scarcely practicable in handling large quantities of oysters. These are
removed to private inclosures known as _toddis_ or _tottis_, situated
some distance from the inhabited portions of the camp; where, exposed to
the solar heat, they are permitted to putrefy, and the fleshy parts to
be eaten by the swarms of big red-eyed bluebottle flies, and the residue
is then repeatedly washed.

Shakspere may have had in view some such scene as this when he spoke of
the “pearl in your foul oyster.” The lady who cherishes and adorns
herself with a necklace of Ceylon pearls would be horrified were she to
see and especially to smell the putrid mass from which her lustrous gems
are evolved. The great quantity of repulsive bluebottle flies are so
essential to success in releasing the pearls from the flesh, that a
scarcity of them is looked upon as a misfortune to the merchants.
However, except it may be at the beginning of a fishery, there is rarely
ever a cause for complaint on this score, for commonly they are so
numerous as to be a great plague to persons unaccustomed to them,
covering everything, and rendering eating and drinking a difficult and
unpleasant necessity, until darkness puts a stop to their activities.
But the intolerable stench, impossible of description, the quintessence
of millions of rotting oysters, fills the place, and makes existence a
burden to those who have not acquired odor-proof nostrils. This animal
decomposition seems almost harmless to health; indeed, the natives
evidently thrive on it, and eat and sleep without apparent notice of the
nauseous conditions. And yet vegetable decomposition in this region is
usually followed by fatal results. Notwithstanding sanitary precautions
and the usual quarantine camp and hospitals, cholera occasionally
becomes epidemic and puts a stop to the fishery, as was the case in
1889; but this probably was due more to the violation of ordinary
sanitary laws than to the decaying oysters.

In a large _toddi_ the oysters are placed in a _ballam_, or a dug-out
tank or trough, fifteen or twenty feet long and two or three feet deep,
smooth on the inside so that pearls may not lodge in the crevices. This
tank is covered with matting, and the _toddi_ is closed up, sealed, and
guarded for a week or ten days, when the fly maggots will have consumed
practically all of the flesh tissues, leaving little else than the
shells and pearls. The tank is then filled with sea water to float out
the myriads of maggots. Several nude coolies squat along the sides to
wash and remove the shells. The valves of each shell are separated, the
outsides rubbed together to remove all lodgments for pearls, and the
interior examined for attached or encysted pearls. The washers are kept
under constant supervision by inspectors to prevent concealment of
pearls; they are not permitted to remove their hands from the water
except to take out the shells, and under no circumstances are they
allowed to carry the hands to the mouth or to any other place in which
pearls could be concealed.

After the shells have been removed, fresh supplies of water are added to
wash the debris, which is turned over and over repeatedly, the dirty
water being bailed out through sieves to prevent the loss of pearls.
After thorough washings, every particle of the _sarraku_, or material at
the bottom of the _ballam_, consisting of sand, broken pieces of shell,
pearls, etc., is gathered up in a cotton cloth. Later the _sarraku_ is
spread out on cloths in the sun to dry, and the most conspicuous pearls
are removed. When dry, the material is critically examined over and over
again, and winnowed and rewinnowed, and after it seems that everything
of value has been secured, the refuse is turned over to women and
children, whose keen eyes and deft fingers pick out many _masi-tul_ or
dust-pearls; and even after the skill of these has been exhausted, the
apparently worthless refuse has a market value among persons whose
patience and skill meets with some reward. It is due largely to the
extreme care in the search that so many seed-pearls are found in Ceylon.

And this leads to a discussion of what is commonly known in Ceylon as
the “Dixon washing machine.” This is an invention of Mr. G. G. Dixon who
constructed it at Marichchikadde in 1904 and 1905, at a total cost to
the government of about Rs.162,000,[154] including all expenses
incidental to the experiment. The machine involves two separate
processes; the first consists in separating the shells from the soft
portion of the oysters, and the second in recovering the pearls from the
resultant _sarraku_ after it has been dried. In 1905, about 5,000,000
oysters were put through this machine,[155] but with what result has not
been announced.

The shells having pearls attached to the interior surface are turned
over to skilled natives, who remove the valuable objects by breaking the
shell with hammers, and then with files and other implements remove the
irregular pieces of attached shell and otherwise improve the appearance.

In no fishery in the world is the average size of the pearls secured
smaller, nor is the relative number greater than in that of Ceylon. It
is rare that one is found weighing over ten grains, and the number
weighing less than two grains is remarkable. For roundness and orient
they are unsurpassed by those of any region. However, Ceylon pearls
worth locally Rs.1000 ($400) are by no means abundant. The most valuable
one found in the important fishery of 1904, is said to have been sold in
the camp for Rs.2500. The fishery of 1905 yielded one weighing 76½
_chevu_, and valued at Rs.12,000.

The quantity of seed-pearls obtained in the Ceylon fishery exceeds that
of any other—probably all other parts of the world. The very
smallest—the _masi-tul_,—for which there is no use whatever in Europe,
have an established value in India, being powdered for making _chunam_
for chewing with betel. Those slightly larger,—_tul_ pearls—for which
also there is no market in Europe, are placed in the mouth of deceased
Hindus of wealth, instead of the rice which is used by poorer people.

The great bulk of the Ceylon pearls are silvery white in color, but
occasionally yellowish, pinkish, and even “black” pearls are found,
although the so-called “black” pearls are really brown or slate-colored.
In some seasons these are relatively numerous, as in 1887, for instance.

Notwithstanding the large product at the fishery camp, it is difficult
to purchase single pearls or small quantities there at a reasonable
price, the merchants objecting to breaking a _mudichchu_, or the lot
resulting from washing a definite number of oysters.

The shells obtained in the Ceylon fisheries do not possess sufficient
thickness of lustrous nacre for use as mother-of-pearl, and are mostly
used for camp-filling. A few are burned and converted into _chunam_,
_i.e._: prepared lime for building purposes, or to be used by natives
for chewing with the betel-nut. Forty or fifty years ago, before the
large receipts of mother-of-pearl from Australia and the southern
Pacific, there was a good market for the shell for button manufacture
and the like, but since 1875 only the choicest have been used for this
purpose, and these are worth only about $25 per ton delivered in Europe.

It will be observed that up to the close of the season of 1906, the
Ceylon fisheries were operated by the colonial government as a state
monopoly. In 1904, proposals were made to the British colonial office by
a London syndicate with a view to leasing the fisheries for a term of
years. The original suggestion was that they should be leased for thirty
years in consideration of an annual rental of £13,000 or Rs.195,000,
together with a share of the net profits after payment of a reasonable
rate of interest on the investment; and later it was suggested that the
rental be Rs.100,000 a year and twenty per cent. of the profits after
seven per cent. on capital had been paid to the shareholders. But the
government preferred a definite money payment without any rights to
share in the profits realized; and after lengthy negotiations this was
fixed at Rs.310,000 annually, with certain preliminary payments.
Accordingly, on November 30, 1905, a preliminary agreement was executed
between the crown agents for the colonies, acting on behalf of the
government of Ceylon, and representatives of the Ceylon Company of Pearl
Fishers, Limited. On February 27, 1906, this agreement was confirmed and
made effective by special ordinance[156] of the governor and legislative
council of Ceylon, and the crown agents were authorized to execute the
lease as of January 1, 1906.

The principal financial terms of this lease required the company to
purchase the expensive Dixon pearl-washing machine at a cost of
Rs.120,000, which was Rs.42,000 less than it cost the government during
the preceding two years; to purchase at a cost of Rs.62,501 the
steamship _Violet_, which the government had used in its experimental
oyster-culture; to reimburse the government each year the amount spent
in policing, sanitation and hospital services at the fishery camp, which
had in some individual seasons amounted to more than Rs.200,000; to
expend each year from Rs.50,000 to Rs.150,000 in the development of
pearl-oyster culture; and to pay an annual rental of Rs.315,000, a rate
based roughly on the average return of the preceding twenty years,
including the record year of 1905.

The company was authorized to take up the pearl-oysters by means of
divers, or by steam dredges, or by such other mechanical means as might
appear most advantageous, and to carry on such experiments with the
immature oysters as appeared most conducive to the profitable working of
the fisheries, provided they do nothing to make the resources less
valuable at the expiration of the lease.

One of the most interesting features of the lease is that relating to
the power of the colonial government to grant an exclusive right of
fishing on the banks outside the three-mile limit. The question of this
exclusive right arose in 1890, but was not conclusively determined.
Fearing lest this authority did not exist, the terms in which the right
of fishing was conveyed were carefully chosen by the attorney general to
protect the government from liability “should any international question
arise”;[157] and the government leased to the company “all the right or
privilege which the lessors have hereto exercised and enjoyed of fishing
for and taking pearl-oysters on the coasts of Ceylon between Talaimannar
and Dutch Bay Point, to the intent that the company _so far as the
lessors can secure the same_ may have the exclusive right, liberty and
authority to fish for, take and carry away pearl-oysters within the said
limits…. But nothing in this lease shall be taken to make the lessors
answerable in damages if _owing to any cause beyond the control of the
lessors_ the company is prevented from fully exercising and enjoying
such exclusive right and privilege.”[158]

In the meantime, while the negotiations were in progress, there occurred
the very profitable fishery of 1905, from which the colonial government
derived a revenue of Rs.2,510,727, or approximately eight times the
proposed annual rental; and before the lease was finally concluded
occurred the fishery of 1906, with its revenue of Rs.1,376,746. While it
is true that a succession of barren seasons prevailed from 1892 to 1902,
yet, as the revenue in 1903 was Rs.829,548, and in 1904 it was
Rs.1,065,751, there was, in the four years ending in 1906, a revenue to
the government of Rs.5,782,772, or nearly as much as the total amount to
be derived from the lease during the twenty years it was to run. These
figures seemed to furnish strong reasons for retaining such a valuable
source of revenue, with its possibilities of still greater expansion
under the supervision and direction of specialists in the employ of the
government.

Many of the inhabitants of Ceylon saw in this a decided objection to the
lease, and there was a general feeling of indignation in the colony,
with public meetings in protest, and the like. In reply to a memorial
prepared at one of these meetings held in Colombo, Lord Elgin, the
British secretary of state for the colonies, wrote under date of May 9,
1906:

The memorialists have protested against the lease on the double
ground that a lease on any terms is contrary to the best interests
of Ceylon, and that the rent agreed upon is “under existing
circumstances wholly inadequate.” There must always be in cases of
this kind a difference of opinion as to whether a fixed annual sum,
with immunity from all expense and sundry other advantages, is or is
not preferable to continuing to face all the risks for the sake of
all the profits. In the present instance the lease appears to me to
have been drafted with a sincere desire to safeguard to the utmost
the property and interests of the Colony.

It may be true that the development of the fishery upon a scientific
system affords good prospect of a greater return in the future than
has been obtained in the past, and affords at least the hope that
the barren cycles which have been so common in the past will not
recur to the same extent. But the operations necessary to that end
are of a highly technical and experimental character, and I am very
doubtful whether any machinery which could be set in motion by the
Government would be suited to develop processes at once so doubtful
and so delicate. In twenty years’ time the Colonial Government will
receive back the fishery, not only intact, but in the most perfect
state to which commercial enterprise and scientific methods can
raise it, and, in the meanwhile, a regular and substantial payment
is assured. Twenty years are no doubt a considerable period in the
lifetime of individuals; but if within that time all the resources
that science can contribute toward systematic development of the
fisheries have been applied and thoroughly tested, the period will
not, I think, be regarded as excessive or unfortunate in the history
of a fishery which has lasted for more than two thousand years.[159]

The Ceylon Company of Pearl Fishers, Limited, with a paid up capital of
£165,000, has just entered into possession of its lease, and it is
uncertain what changes will be made in the methods of the fishery or
what measure of success will follow the attempts at pearl-oyster culture
and the growth of pearls. The attention of the pearling interests of the
world is now directed to the work of this company in the development of
its magnificent leasehold, and it seems not unlikely that greater
changes will be made in the methods of the industry during the ensuing
decade than have occurred in the whole of the last ten centuries.[160]

A curious fishery, with the _Placuna placenta_ for its object, exists in
Tablegram Lake, a small bay in northeastern Ceylon adjacent to the
magnificent harbor of Trincomali, which Nelson declared to be “the
finest in the world.” At intervals during the nineteenth century, the
Ceylon government leased the Tablegram Lake fishery to native bidders
for a period of three consecutive years. In 1857, Dr. Kelaart visited
the place and calculated that in the three years preceding, eighteen
million oysters had been removed.[161] Owing to scarcity of the mollusk,
no fisheries have existed since 1890, but from 1882 to 1890 they were
regularly leased at an average of Rs.5000 for each term of three years.
Prof. James Hornell, who made a careful examination in 1905, reported
that if the business were carried on providently and systematically, “it
should become the source of a fairly regular annual revenue to
Government of from Rs.10,000 to Rs.12,000, possibly even more.”[162]

The _Placuna_ oysters are caught by Moormen divers, who are scarcely
equal physically to the pearl fishery in the sea. They rarely descend
more than four fathoms, and most of the work in Tablegram Bay is in less
than two fathoms. Each diver returns with from one to five or more
oysters, depending on their abundance, and receives one half of the
catch as his share of the proceeds. Unlike the method in the
pearl-oyster fishery of Ceylon, the _Placuna_ oysters are opened while
fresh, this work being performed by coolies, who are compensated at the
rate of about Rs.3 per 1000.


THE PEARL FISHERIES OF INDIA

There are two moments in a diver’s life:
One, when a beggar, he prepares to plunge;
Then, when a prince, he rises with his prize.

ROBERT BROWNING.

Notwithstanding the great fame of the pearl fisheries of India, those
prosecuted within the limits of British India proper are of small
extent. The only pearl resources within the empire are the rarely
productive reefs on the Madras coast in the vicinity of Tuticorin, the
relatively modern fisheries of Mergui Archipelago, and some small reefs
of only local importance on the Malabar coast and in the Bombay
presidency.

The celebrity of India in connection with the pearl fisheries has never
rested on the extent of those within the territorial limits or under the
control of this government. It originated in the fact that it is largely
Indian capital which finances the fisheries of Ceylon and of the Persian
Gulf; nearly all of the divers and others employed in Ceylon are from
the coast of this empire, and most of the pearls are purchased by
merchants of Bombay, Madura, Trichinopoli, and other large towns. Thus,
from an economic and industrial point of view, the pearl fisheries of
Ceylon, and to a less extent those of the Persian Gulf, have contributed
to the fame and to the wealth of the Empire of India.

The pearl fisheries off Tuticorin in the Madras presidency have been
referred to incidentally in the account of the fisheries of Ceylon. They
are separated by only a few miles of water, and are prosecuted by the
same fishermen and in precisely the same manner. Consequently, it is
difficult to discuss them separately, especially in their early history
and during the time that this part of the world was under the rule of
the Portuguese and later of the Dutch.

The fisheries of the Madras coast compete in antiquity with those of
Ceylon. Indeed, from the time of Ptolemy to the seventeenth century, the
industry seems to have been prosecuted largely from the Madras side of
the gulf, centering at Chayl or Coil on the sandy promontory of Ramnad.
This place appears to be the Κόλχοι of Ptolemy, the Ramana Koil of the
natives, as well as the Cael of the travelers of the Middle Ages. But
during the last three hundred years, the Ceylon side has been the scene
of the greatest pearling operations; and from the Madras coast, the
fisheries have not been prosecuted except at long intervals, averaging
once in fifteen or twenty years.

Owing to the scarcity of oysters and to other causes, the fishery was
prosecuted on the Madras coast in only eight years of the whole period
from 1768 to 1907. These years of productivity were 1822, 1830, 1860,
1861, 1882, 1889, 1890, and 1900; and even then the yield was relatively
small. The largest was 15,874,500 oysters in 1860, from which the Madras
government derived a revenue of Rs.250,276; and about half as many
oysters were obtained in 1861 with a revenue of Rs.129,003. Numerous and
prolonged experiments in conserving the reefs and in cultivating the
oysters have been made without success. The reason usually given for the
greater wealth of oysters on the Ceylon side is, that it is more
sheltered from the strong currents which sweep down the Bay of Bengal
into the Gulf of Manaar and impinge directly on the coast of the
mainland.

The headquarters of the fishery are at Tuticorin, near to Madura, the
Benares of the south, the holy “City of Sweetness” which the gods have
delighted to honor from time immemorial. But the camp is commonly
erected of palmyra and bamboo on the barren shore several miles distant
from Tuticorin. The 1890 fishery was at Salápatturai, and that of 1900
at a place which received the mouth-filling name of Veerapandianpatanam.

The preparations for pearling at Tuticorin are similar to those on the
Ceylon coast. In the autumn the reefs are examined by government
inspectors, and if the conditions seem to warrant a fishery in the
following spring, arrangements are made therefor and the proper
notification issued. The announcement follows the general plan of that
in Ceylon. The following, from the Fort St. George “Gazette,” Madras,
January 16, 1900, is a copy of the notification preceding the last
fishery which has occurred:

Notice is hereby given that a pearl fishery will take place at
Veerapandianpatanam on or about the 12th March, 1900.

1. The bank to be fished is the Theradipulipudithapar, estimated to
employ 100 boats for twenty days with average loads of 7,000 oysters
per day.

2. It is therefore recommended that such boat owners and divers as
may wish to be employed shall be at Tuticorin on or before the 1st
of March next and anchor their boats abreast of the government
flagstaff; the first day’s fishing will take place on the 12th of
March, weather permitting.

3. The fishery will be conducted on account of Government, and the
oysters put up for sale in such lots as may be deemed expedient.

4. The arrangements of the fishery will be the same as have been
usual on similar occasions.

5. Payments to be made in ready money in rupees or in Government of
India notes. Checks on the Bank of Madras or Bank Agencies will be
received on letters of credit being produced to warrant the drawing
of such checks.

6. All particulars can be obtained on application to the
Superintendent of Pearl Fisheries, Tuticorin.

Sd/—J. P. BEDFORD,
_Collector_.

Tinnevelly Collector’s Office,
16th November 1899.

On the long sweep of desolate shore at a place convenient to the reefs,
a temporary camp is erected, just as is done on the Ceylon coast.
However, this camp is not nearly so large, only about one fourth or one
fifth the size of that on the eastern side of the gulf. It resembles the
larger one in the quarters for divers and merchants, the bazaars, the
bungalows for the officials, the hospital, the sale and washing
inclosures, etc.; in addition to these is the temporary Roman Catholic
chapel.

The divers are mainly of the Parawa caste from Tuticorin, Pinnacoil,
Pamban, etc. on the Madras coast. Although influenced by many Hindu
superstitions, they are nominally Roman Catholics, as evidenced by the
scapulars suspended from the neck, their ancestors having been converted
and baptized through the zealous work of that prince of missionaries,
St. Francis Xavier, in the sixteenth century. Even yet a chapel at
Pinnacoil is held in special reverence by these people as a place where
the saintly father preached. Professor Hornell writes that the present
hereditary head of this caste is Don Gabriel de Croos Lazarus Motha Vaz,
known officially as the Jati Talaiva More, or Jati Talaivan. He resides
at Tuticorin, and is largely the intermediary between the government and
the Parawa fishermen.

In the details of its prosecution, the Madras fishery differs in no
important particular from that of Ceylon. The boats are manned and
operated in precisely the same way; they fish in the morning only,
taking advantage of the prevailing favorable winds; the divers carry the
oysters into the government inclosure, and divide them into three equal
lots, of which they receive one; the share of the government is
auctioned daily, the divers disposing of theirs as they choose; and the
oysters are rotted and washed in the same manner as in Ceylon.

In addition to the fishery for pearl-oysters at Tuticorin, two other
species of pearl-producing mollusks are collected in the Madras
presidency; one of these is a species of mussel (_Mytilus smaragdinus_,
according to Dr. Edgar Thurston of the Madras Museum), which is
collected from the estuary of the Sonnapore River near Berhampore; and
the other is the _Placuna placenta_, found in many places in this
presidency, and especially in Pulicat Lake and in the vicinity of
Tuticorin.

The Sonnapore mussels, which are small and bright green in color, are
found adhering to the masses of edible oysters in depths of ten or
twelve feet of water. They are caught in a novel manner, as described in
a letter from the acting collector of customs at Ganjam. Thrusting a
long bamboo pole deep into the bottom of the reef, the fisherman dives
down, and holding on to this bamboo, breaks off as large a mass of the
oysters as he can bring to the surface in one hand, helping himself up
the bamboo pole with the other. Removing the mussels from the mass, he
opens them with a suitable knife and by running his thumbs and fingers
over the flesh tissues, detects the pearls therein. These pearls are of
very inferior quality and of little ornamental value. They are sold
mostly for chunám and for placing in the mouth of deceased Hindus.

Along the west coast of India, in the Bombay presidency, a few pearls
are found at various places, but the output is of slight value. The most
important of these is off the coast of Nawanagar, on the south side of
the Gulf of Cutch, where the true pearl-oyster is found.

According to the “Jamnagar Diwan,” the yearly value of the Nawanagar
fisheries is about Rs.4000. This is smaller than formerly, as the reefs
are in a depleted state; to give them a chance to recuperate, a close
season was established in 1905. The oysters are found along a coast-line
eighty miles in length extending from Mangra, near Jodya Bunder, to
Pindera in the Gulf of Cutch, and also about the islands of Ajad, Chauk,
Kalumbar, and Nora, which are also situated in the Cutch Gulf. They are
not procured by diving, but are gathered off the rocks when the tide is
out. During the monsoon, the collection is limited to eight days in the
month; _i.e._, from the twelfth to the fifteenth of each half according
to the Hindu calendar.

The fisheries are by law restricted exclusively to the _waghers_ of ten
villages, which are Varinar, Sashana, Sika, Balachedi, Jhakher, Sarmat,
Bharana, Salaya, Chudesar, and Bedi. The collection of the pearls is
left entirely to these men, who at Divala—the Hindu new year—bring all
the pearls gathered by them to the durbar. There an estimate is made of
their value, one fourth of which is paid to the _waghers_, and the
pearls are turned over to the representatives of the state treasury for
sale. This method of conducting the industry has been long established.
In recent years the government experimented in farming out the revenue,
but the old custom has been resumed in order to placate the native
fishermen.

A few pearl-oysters are also found on the Ratnagiri coast below Bombay,
and likewise at Kananur in the Malabar district. In 1901–1902, there was
some local excitement about pearls found at Belapur and quantities were
reported as collected; but since then little has been heard of the
industry in that region.

Elsewhere on the west coast of India, pearls are obtained from the
so-called “window-glass” shell, of the genus _Placuna_. The individual
shells are flat, thin, and transparent, and are still used in Goa and
vicinity as a substitute for glass in windows. This mollusk is abundant
from Karachi, near the Baluchistan border, to the Kanara district south
of Bombay; and wherever it occurs in any abundance it is collected for
the sake of the small pearls found therein.

Of the fishery at Karachi, Mr. E. H. Aitken writes: “It is farmed out by
Government for a good sum. In 1901, the amount realized was Rs.3650 for
a period of three years; but the lessee lost heavily, and in 1904 the
highest offer for a similar period of three years was Rs.1851. Pearls
may be found in as many as ten to twenty per cent. of the mature
mollusks.” Pearls are far more numerous in the _Placuna_ than in the
pearl-oysters, but few of them are of sufficient size or luster to be
used as ornaments, ranking with the so-called medicinal pearls of
Europe. They are much softer in texture than the pearls of the
Margaritiferæ. The largest are commonly of irregular form, with the
surface slightly botryoidal or like the “strawberry” pearls of the
Mississippi. While not often used as ornaments, they are highly valued
by the Hindus in calcined or powdered form for medicinal purposes, and
especially to be chewed with the betel-nut, and are also used in the
original form in funeral rites, a small quantity being placed in the
mouth of a deceased person.

In the Mergui Archipelago, which is within the territory of lower Burma
and under the jurisdiction of the government of British India, patches
of pearl-oyster reefs are scattered over an area roughly computed at
11,000 square miles, taking 97° 40′ as the western boundary. They occur
principally in the strong tidal passages among the islands. The bottom
is formed largely of porphyritic granite interspersed with sand and
thinly covered with corals, coral cups, the long whip-like black coral
(_Antipathes arborea_), and other submarine animal and vegetable
growths.[163] These constitute a home most favorable to the growth and
development of molluscan life.

Of the several species of pearl-bearing mollusks occurring in the Mergui
Archipelago, by far the most important is the “mok,” or large Australian
pearl-oyster (_Margaritifera maxima_). The shell attains a maximum size
of about thirteen inches in diameter, and the nacre is of a milky or
silvery color. This species occurs in its two varieties of “golden lip”
and “silver edge,” the former being in greater abundance. The “silver
edge” shell is the more valuable owing to its uniformity of coloring,
and the pearls found therein are of superior luster and orient.

The “pate goung,” or Lingah pearl-oyster (_Margaritifera vulgaris_), is
similar to that of the Gulf of Manaar. It is circular in shape and
measures about two and one half inches in diameter. The nacre is
silvery, with slight yellowish tinge. Many of the pearls from this
species are of a silvery color, but most of them are yellowish or
golden. The fishery for this mollusk is of little importance compared
with that for the larger pearl-oyster, which is the species referred to
in Mergui when not otherwise mentioned.

The pearl fisheries of Mergui originated with the Selangs or Salangs, a
nomadic race of maritime gipsies, the last remnants of whom live among
the three thousand islands of this group. They are supposed to be of
Malay descent; but their early history is unknown, and they are rapidly
passing away in the conflict of existence with the neighboring peoples.
Probably in no part of the world are the pearl fisheries prosecuted by a
more primitive class of men. With their women and children, they live
mainly in roomy dug-out boats; but during the southwest monsoon they
erect temporary shelters on the shore, these consisting of a few frail
sticks, supporting coverings of braided mats, and floors of bamboo
strips.

They have few wants and derive a livelihood principally from gathering
and bartering shells, pearls, cured _thadecon_, and nests of the
sea-swallow (Collocalia). Within depths of six or eight fathoms they are
fairly good divers, both the men and the women, but their physical
endurance is slight. Their trade is mostly with Chinese merchants who
visit them in small vessels. No information exists as to when the
Selangs first found profit in searching for pearls; but it was probably
many centuries ago, and for a long time they made contributions of them
to the Buddhist rulers of Burma.

Shortly after the acquisition of Mergui Archipelago in 1826,
representatives of the British government brought experienced divers
from southern India to examine more fully the resources which the
Selangs had made known; but as only seed-pearls were secured, the
government concluded that they would yield an insignificant revenue, and
the attempt to develop these resources was given up.[164]

However, the Selangs continued to fish in their primitive fashion; and
as the market for the shell developed, the profits increased. But their
wants were easily appeased, and the increased profits were
counterbalanced by decreased activities. Old traders among the islands
tell of the opportunities of those days when choice pearls could be
obtained for a pinch of opium or for a few ounces of tobacco.

Far from the highways of the world, the Selangs remained undisturbed in
their beautiful seas until nearly twenty years ago. Meanwhile, 800 miles
distant, Singapore had arisen from a desert shore to the rank of a great
seaport, and the headquarters for the pearl fishery of the Malay
Archipelago and of the northwestern coast of Australia. In this fishery
the vessels were well equipped and depended on the use of diving
apparatus rather than on nude divers.

Beginning about 1888, some of these vessels made occasional visits to
the Mergui pearl-oyster reefs, and usually with very profitable results.
This was the first instance in which diving apparatus was successfully
introduced on any part of the Asiatic coast from the Red Sea to Malacca
Strait. So great was the profit that nearly every one on the lower coast
of Burma with sufficient capital or credit hastened to obtain a boat and
diving equipment. The success of some of these early ventures was
remarkable, single pearls worth $3000, $5000, and even $10,000 each
being secured. The reefs in the shoal waters were rapidly depleted, to
the great disadvantage of the nude Selangs, who can do little in deep
water.

With a view to deriving a revenue from these well-equipped vessels, the
government of Burma in 1898 divided the 11,000 square miles of pearling
territory into five definite areas known as “blocks.” The area within
each of these blocks was surveyed, marked, and charted; and the
financial commissioner from time to time determined as to each block
whether licenses for pearl fishing should be issued, or whether the
exclusive right therein should be leased. These leases were disposed of
either by inviting tenders and granting the lease to any of the persons
who might tender, or by public auction, as the financial commissioner
might direct. By the terms of the lease, the lessee was obliged to
register at the office of the deputy commissioner of finance the number
of boats and pumps employed by him; to declare by letter, at the end of
each month, the number, weight, and estimated value of all
mother-of-pearl shell and pearls collected during the month, and to
refrain from taking any mother-of-pearl measuring less than six inches
from lip to hinge.

Outside the limits of blocks in which the exclusive pearl fishing was
leased, licenses to use diving implements were granted in such number
and on payment of such fees, not exceeding Rs.1000 per apparatus, as
might from time to time be fixed, every such license expiring on June 30
next following the date on which it was granted, and no license was
transferable.

The five blocks in which the Mergui pearling rights were leased are of
large area, averaging somewhat over 2000 square miles each. The lessees
customarily granted permits to subsidiary fishermen to operate in their
respective blocks, on payment of a royalty, this ranging in amount from
12½ to 25 per cent. of the mother-of-pearl secured, and the pearls found
were the absolute property of the fishermen.

Until 1900 the pearling rights were leased by blocks as above noted.
Rights to catch trochus, green snail shells, and sea-slugs, were
included in the lease. It was noticed that European pearlers always
sublet the trochus and green snail rights, and it was decided to auction
these separately; while as regards pearling proper the auction system
was abolished in that year in favor of a system of licensing individual
vessels for a fee of Rs.400 each. The right to collect pearls by nude
diving was thought for some time to have been left free; but
subsequently it was auctioned along with the rights to collect green
snails, trochus and sea-slugs.

The following summary, compiled from data furnished by Mr. I. H. Burkill
of the Indian Civil Service, shows the extent of the pearl and shell
fisheries of Mergui for a series of years.

Year. No. of Revenue from Revenue from Reported Value of
Pumps. Pumps. Auction Rights. Yield.
Rs. Rs. Rs.

1904 70 28,000 22,500 149,239

1905 77 30,800 14,200 131,921

1906 80 32,000 15,300 124,798

1907 76 30,400 19,700

The local headquarters of the industry are at Mergui, but most of the
supplies are drawn from Maulmain and Rangoon, or from the more distant
Singapore, where the industry is financed. The season extends from
October to April or May, when the southwest monsoon begins and puts a
stop to the fishery on this exposed coast.

The boats used are mostly of Burmese build. They measure from 25 to 35
feet in length, and 7 or 8 feet in width, and have 18 to 24 inches of
draft, with curved or half-moon shaped keels, and with high square
sterns. Owing to the very light draft and the amount of free-board, they
are deficient in weatherly qualities; but are fast sailors before the
wind and are easily rowed from place to place. For this reason they are
especially suited to the industry in Mergui, because during the pearling
season calms and light winds prevail and oars form the principal motive
power, especially in the channels and passageways between the islands
where the tides are frequently very swift.

If a number of boats are of the same ownership, a schooner of thirty to
one hundred tons’ capacity is commonly provided as a floating station
and base of supplies for them; the gathering of such a fleet presents an
interesting sight, like a great white hen among her brood of chickens.

Most of the boats are from Mergui, and are chartered at a monthly rate
of from Rs.105 to Rs.120 each, including a crew of four or five Burmans
with their subsistence, consisting principally of rice and salted fish;
the charterer is further required to pay each member of the crew four
annas, or one rupee, for each day actually employed in operating the
diving pump. In addition to these men, each boat carries one diver and
an attendant, commonly known as “tender.” The boat is sailed or rowed by
the crew, as directed by the diver; and while the latter is submerged,
the boat and crew are under the supervision of the attendant.

The divers are the most important men in the fleet, for on their ability
and efficiency depends the success of the enterprise. A very
considerable portion of them are natives of the Philippine Islands,
although many Japanese have been employed recently, and the number is
increasing. The compensation is at the rate of £2 to £4 per month, and
£20 for each ton of mother-of-pearl secured. The attendants are likewise
mostly Manilamen, but many Malayans and Burmans are employed; the wages
range from Rs.50 to Rs.80 per month, including provisions. The peculiar
duties of the attendant are to help the diver into his dress, place the
shoulder leads into position, screw on the helmet, and especially to
receive and respond to signals and to direct the movements of the vessel
in accordance therewith.

The scaphander, or diving dress, is composed of solid sheet rubber,
covered on both sides with canvas. The head-piece is made of tinned
copper, and is fitted with three glasses, one at the front and one on
each side, so as to afford the diver as wide a view as is consistent
with strength of construction. It has a valve by which he can regulate
the pressure of the atmosphere. The dress has a double collar, the inner
portion coming up around the neck, and the other hermetically fastened
to the breastplate. The breastplate is likewise made of copper. The suit
is connected with the air-pump by means of a stout rubber tube which
enters the helmet, and through which air is supplied to the diver
incased therein. This air-tube consists of three or four lengths—each of
fifty feet—of light hose, commonly called “pipe.” This is buoyant so
that it may be easily pulled along, and may not readily foul among the
rocks. However, when working on very rough bottom with sharp-edged
stones, the lower length is of stouter material in order to resist the
chafing on the bottom. Before descending, the air-line is loosely coiled
around the diver’s arm to prevent a sudden strain on it when it is
tightened, and a signal-line is attached to his waist to enable him to
communicate with the men above.

In fishing, if the current is slight, the boat is permitted to drift
therewith, and if there is little or no current, it is propelled by oars
as may be required. The diver—fully dressed in the rubber suit with
helmet, etc.,—goes overboard easily by means of a Jacob’s ladder of five
or six rungs on the port side of the boat, and is lowered by an
attendant, who gives close attention to the lines, the crew having
manned the pump in the meantime. On reaching bottom, the diver walks
along, following the course of the moving boat and swinging his
shoulders from side to side to take in a wide vision in his search for
oysters. In clear water he can discover them at a distance of
twenty-five or thirty feet, even when fifteen fathoms below the surface;
but sometimes the water is so clouded that it may be necessary for him
to go almost on hands and knees to see them, and when the seaweeds are
thick and high, he may locate them almost as much by feeling as by
sight. Owing to this difficulty in seeing the oysters, the work is
suspended in rough weather and for many days following. The catch is
placed in a sack or basket of quarter inch rope, which is raised when
filled, emptied, and returned to the bottom by means of a rope.

Finding the shell is by no means an easy matter, and much natural
hunter-craft is necessary. Of a neutral color, it is not at all
conspicuous as it lies on a gray coral bed, itself covered with coral or
sponge or hidden in dense masses of gorgeous seaweeds. Still less
visible is the shell on a muddy bottom, for there it embeds itself and
exposes only half an inch or so of the “lip.” As the boat is impelled by
the tide, the diver may have to walk rapidly in a swinging gait; and if
he should stumble or fall while stooping to pick up the shell, recovery
of balance may be difficult. He must be constantly on the alert and has
many dangers to avoid. Sharks are numerous in these clear tropical
waters; but although disaster sometimes results, they are timid, a
stream of air bubbles from the sleeve of the dress sending them away in
fright. More fruitful sources of danger are fouled air-pipes, broken
pumps, falling into holes, and especially paralysis from recklessly deep
diving.

When the diver wishes to come up, he closes the escape valve in his
helmet; his dress fills and distends with air, causing a speedy return
to the surface, and the tender hauls him alongside by means of the
life-line. After “blowing” for a few minutes with the helmet removed,
and usually enjoying the indispensable cigarette, he returns to the
bottom.

When the Mergui reefs were first exploited by diving apparatus, the bulk
of the shells were secured from depths of ten to twelve fathoms. These
shallow reefs have been exhausted, temporarily, at least, and the divers
now work in deeper water, fifteen, twenty, and even twenty-five fathoms,
if the bottom is very uneven and rocky. Many shells are found in the
depressions between the large boulders, which may be twenty or thirty
feet deeper than the surrounding areas.

The oysters are opened by means of the long-bladed working-knife of the
country, known as _dah-she_. The flesh is thrown into a large basket or
washtub, where it is searched by the proprietor of the boat, who takes
each piece between the hands and squeezes and feels through every part
of it. After the flesh has been carefully examined, the sediment at the
bottom of the tub is washed and panned to obtain those pearls which have
fallen through the flesh tissues. The Mergui pearls are commonly of good
color and luster, and compare favorably with those from the Sulu
Archipelago or the Dutch East Indies.

The sea-green shell of the snail (_Turbo marmoratus_) is gathered in
large quantities by the nude diving Selangs, who barter it to Chinese
traders at the equivalent of Rs.8 or 10 per 100 in number. The flesh is
also dried and disposed of to these traders under the name of
_thadecon_, at about Rs.3 per _viss_ of 3.33 pounds. This mollusk yields
a few greenish yellow pearls.

In 1895, three pearl reefs were discovered off the Bassein coast in the
district of Irawadi.[165] These proved fairly remunerative for one
season and a portion of another, when they were abandoned.


THE PEARL FISHERIES OF THE RED SEA, GULF OF ADEN, ETC.

Under the Ptolemies, and even long after—under the Califs—these were
islands whose merchants were princes; but their bustle and glory
have since departed from them, and they are now thinly inhabited by
a race of miserable fishermen.

JAMES BRUCE (1790).

The Red Sea was one of the most ancient sources of pearls, furnishing
these gems for centuries before the Christian era, and particularly
during the reign of the Ptolemies. These pearls were alluded to by
Strabo, Ælianus, and other classical writers. Although the prominence of
the fisheries has suffered by comparison with those of Persia and
Ceylon, the yield has been more or less extensive from the days of
Solomon up to the present time.

Of the several pearl-yielding mollusks in the Red Sea and on the
southeast coast of Arabia, the largest and best known is that called
“sadof” by the Arabs, and which has been identified by Jameson as
_Margaritifera m. erythræensis_. This is closely related to the large
species in the Persian Gulf. It is commonly four or five inches in
diameter, and in exceptional instances attains a diameter of eight
inches and a weight of three pounds or more. In addition to its size, it
is distinguished by a dark green coloring about the edges, and a more or
less greenish tint over the nacreous interior surface; this color is
darker in the vicinity of Jiddah and Suakin than at the southern end of
the sea, or in the Gulf of Aden. This species occurs singly rather than
congregated in beds or reefs. Although it is found in depths of fifteen
fathoms or more, most of the fishing is in less than five fathoms of
water.

The “sadof” yields pearls only rarely, and is sought principally for the
shells, which afford good qualities of mother-of-pearl, the pearls
furnishing an additional but always looked-for profit to the regular
source of income. As in other regions, there is no constant relation
between the value of the pearls and the quantity of mollusks taken. The
oysters of some reefs are comparatively rich in certain years; while in
other seasons or on other reefs the mollusks may be numerous but yield
very few pearls.

The second species of importance in the Red Sea is similar to the Lingah
oyster and is known to the Arabs as “bulbul.” This is much smaller than
the “sadof,” averaging less than three inches in diameter. It is
collected for the pearls exclusively, the shells being too small for
industrial use; but only 3 or 4 per cent. of the individuals yield
pearls.

It is claimed by writers of authority that it is the red Pinna pearl
from this sea that is referred to in the Scriptures under the name
_peninim_ as the most precious product, and which has been translated as
rubies.[166] The shell is extremely fragile, and the nacreous interior
is white tinged with a beautiful red. It is of little importance in the
commercial fisheries of the Red Sea at the present time.

The “sadof” is more scattered and less numerous than the “bulbul”; and
in order to save much useless diving, it is customary to inspect the
bottom before descending. Therefore, operations are largely restricted
to calm weather, when the water is sufficiently clear to enable the
divers to sight the individual oysters on the bottom. In recent years,
water-telescopes have been used to assist in locating them. The most
popular form consists of a tin can with a sheet of glass inserted in the
bottom. The glazed end of the tin is submerged several inches below the
surface, affording a far-reaching and much clearer vision. In this
fishery the divers work from small canoes (_uri_), each manned by two
men, one of whom rows while the other leans over the bow and searches
for the oysters. When one is sighted, he dives into the water for it,
and then returns to the boat to resume the search.

The pearling season begins commonly in March or April, and continues
until about the end of May; it is renewed in the autumn, continuing
through September and October.[167] The vessels employed are of two
varieties: _dhows_ carrying from twenty to eighty men each, and the much
smaller _sambuks_ or sail-boats without decks, each with from six to
twenty-five men, most of whom are Negro slaves. Many of the large
vessels are from the Persian Gulf. The _sambuks_ are owned principally
by Zobeid Bedouins inhabiting the coast between Jiddah and Yambo, and
also the islands near the southern end of the sea, which are very
hot-beds of pearls, shells, religious frenzy and half famished Arabs and
Negro slaves.

The “bulbul” oysters are taken in nearly the same manner as in the
Persian Gulf. When the vessel is located over the reef, each diver
descends, commonly with a short stick of iron or hard wood, with which
he releases the oysters within reach; placing them in a sack, he is
pulled up by an attendant when his breath is nearly exhausted.

The fisheries are prosecuted along both sides of the Red Sea and in the
channels among the islands, from the Gulf of Akabah to Bab-el-Mandeb.
They are especially extensive among the Dahlak Islands on the coast of
the Italian colony Eritrea, where the population is largely supported by
them. This was the center of the industry during the time of the
Ptolemies and in the early Christian era. The fisheries are also
important in the vicinity of Jiddah, the port of entrance for Mecca and
Medina, holiest places of Islam. They likewise exist near Kosseir at the
northern end of the sea, and at Suakin, Massawa, the Farsan Islands, and
Loheia, near the lower end. They are carried on by Arabs, who succeed in
evading efforts at control on the part of the local governments. Even on
the African side, the Arab fishermen predominate, for the native
Egyptian has never evinced much fondness for venturing on the sea.

On the southeast coast of Arabia, pearl fishermen are to be found at the
various harbors from Aden to Muscat. Their fantastic dhows are met with
in the harbor of Makalla, and also in that of Shehr. On the Oman coast,
the ports of Sur and of sun-scorched Muscat do a considerable pearling
business, not only locally but to the Sokotra Islands, and even on the
coast of East Africa and Zanzibar, the trading baggalas adding pearling
and illicit slave-trading to their many sources of income. A number of
these traders, each with an instinct for pearls equal to that of a
trained hound for game, visit the fishing centers at intervals, and
exchange needful commodities for pearls and shells.

The Arab pearl-divers of the Red Sea have been noted for the depths to
which they can descend. Lieutenant J. R. Wellsted, of the Indian Navy,
who had unusual facilities for acquaintance with their exploits,
reported that in the Persian Gulf the fishermen rarely descended beyond
eleven or twelve fathoms, and even then they exhibited signs of
exhaustion; but that in the Red Sea they go down twice that depth. Among
the most noted of these divers of the last century was old Serúr, who
attracted the notice of many travelers. Lieutenant Wellsted states that
he saw him descend repeatedly to twenty-five fathoms without the
slightest evidence of distress; that he frequently dived in thirty
fathoms, and is reported to have brought up mud from the bottom at a
depth of thirty-five fathoms, which is about the record, the pressure of
the water being nearly 90 pounds to the square inch. His sons were also
remarkably expert; one of them when scarcely thirteen years of age would
descend to a depth of twenty-five fathoms.[168]

An interesting story of an Arab’s diving ability is told by Lieutenant
Wellsted: “In 1827, we were cruising in the sloop _Ternate_ on the pearl
banks. Whilst becalmed and drifting slowly along with the current,
several of the officers and men were looking over the side at our Arab
pilot, who had been amusing himself in diving for oysters. After several
attempts, his search proved unsuccessful. ‘Since I cannot get oysters I
will now,’ said he, ‘dive for and catch fish.’ All ridiculed the idea.
He went down again, and great was our astonishment to see him, after a
short time, rise to the surface with a small rock-fish in each hand. His
own explanation of the feat was, that as he seated himself at the
bottom, the fish came around and nibbled at his skin. Watching his
opportunity, he seized and secured his prey by thrusting his thumb and
forefinger into their expanded gills.”[169]

Owing to the character of the fishery and the lack of government
supervision, it is extremely difficult to determine accurately the
extent of this industry in the Red Sea and the Arabian Gulf. All over
this coast extends the influence of the Hindu traders, who finance the
fisheries and purchase most of the catch. The pearls are sent mostly to
Bombay, and are not reported in the official returns of the Red Sea
ports. The fishermen are suspicious of outside inquiries, and are far
from anxious to impart reliable information. Probably the best estimates
of the catch are to be obtained from Bombay merchants, from whom A.
Perazzoli learned in 1898 that pearls to the value of 2,000,000 lire
($400,000) were carried from the Red Sea to Bombay each year.[170] In
the last four or five years the output has been smaller than usual,
owing to disturbed political conditions.

The annual product of “Egyptian” and “Bombay” shells in these fisheries
is usually upward of 1000 tons, worth from $100 to $600 per ton,
according to quality. Most of these go to Austria and France, only about
200 tons reaching London each year. Owing to the dark color and the lack
of thickness in the nacreous layer, they are scarcely suitable for
anything else than button manufacture. Many of them are sent to
Bethlehem and Jerusalem, where they are cut into various shapes for
crosses, crucifixes, wafer-boxes, beads, and nearly every conceivable
article in which mother-of-pearl is manufactured. Many of the choicest
shells are incised with scriptural or allegorical designs for sale to
tourists as well as for export. The best of the engraved shells sell for
$10 to $50, and the cheaper ones for less than $1 each. This industry is
of great importance in Bethlehem, giving employment to a considerable
percentage of the eight thousand inhabitants of the village.

Doubtless in no pearl fishery in the world are greater hardships endured
than in the Red Sea and along the coast of the Arabian Gulf. In
practically every other region, the industry is carried on under
government supervision, and there is little opportunity for
ill-treatment of the humbler fishermen. But the fanatics who control the
fishery on the Arabian coast—untrammeled by authorities and responsible
to none—show little consideration for the poor divers, and particularly
for the unfortunate black slaves brought from the coast of Africa.

These pearl fishermen lead a very eventful life, the divers especially.
They see some wonderful sights down below the surface-plant life and
creeping things and enemies innumerable. Dropping from the sun-scorched
surface down into the deep cool waters, everything shows “a sea change,
into something rich and strange,” just as the eyes of the drowned man in
Ariel’s song are turned into pearls and his bones into coral.

And there are enemies innumerable. The terrible sharks, prowling about
near the bottom, prove a source of perpetual uneasiness, and in the
aggregate many fishermen are eaten by these bloodthirsty tigers of the
sea. There are horrible conflicts with devil-fish equaling that in
Hugo’s “Toilers of the Sea.” The saw-fish is also a source of danger,
particularly in the Arabian Gulf, and instances are reported in which
divers have been cut in two by these animals, which sometimes attain a
length of twelve or fifteen feet, and possess a saw five feet long and
three inches broad, armed on each edge with teeth two inches in length.
Another menacing peril is the giant clam (_Tridacna gigas_), a monster
bivalve, whose shell measures two or three feet in diameter, and is
firmly anchored to the bottom. This mollusk occurs on many of the
Asiatic pearling grounds. Lying with the scalloped edges a foot or more
apart, a foot or a hand of the diver may be accidentally inserted. When
such a fate befalls a fisherman, the only escape is for him to amputate
the member immediately. Once in a while on the pearling shores a native
may be found who has been maimed in this manner, but usually the
unfortunate man does not escape with his life.


THE PEARL FISHERIES OF CHINA, JAPAN, SIBERIA, ETC.

Do churls
Know the worth of Orient pearls?
Give the gem which dims the moon
To the noblest or to none.

EMERSON, _Friendship_.

It appears from ancient Chinese literature, noted in the first chapter
of this book, that pearl fisheries have existed in the rivers of China
for several thousand years. The Chinese also derived pearls from the
sea, and especially from the coast of the province of Che-kiang. Little
is known of the early fisheries, but the fragmentary literature contains
so many allusions to pearls as to lead us to believe that they were of
considerable extent and importance.

It is related that about 200 B.C., a pearl dealer at Shao-hing, an
ancient city between Hang-chau and Ning-po, on the shore of Hang-chau
Bay, furnished to the empress a pearl one inch in diameter, for which he
received five hundred pieces of silver; and to an envious princess the
same dealer sold a “four-inch pearl.” A hundred years later, the
reigning emperor sent an agent to the coast to purchase “moon pearls,”
the largest of which were two thirds of an inch in diameter.

In the tenth century A.D., Mingti, one of the most extravagant of the
early monarchs, used so many pearls—not only in his personal decoration
but on his equipage and retinue,—that after a formal procession the way
would be rich in the jewels which dropped from the gorgeous cortège.
About 1000 A.D., an embassy to the emperor brought as tribute an
ornament composed of strings of pearls, and also 105 liang (8¾ lbs.) of
the same gems unmounted.

An interesting story is told of “pearl-scattering” by an embassy to the
Chinese court from a Malayan state about 1060. Following the customs of
their country, the ambassadors knelt at the threshold of the audience
chamber, and then advanced toward the throne, bearing a golden goblet
filled with choice pearls and water-lilies wrought of gold. These they
scattered upon the floor at the feet of the emperor; and the courtiers,
hastening to pick them up, secured ten hang (15 oz.) of pearls.[171]

The Keh Chi King Yuen, a Chinese encyclopedia, describes a pearl fishery
in the southern part of Kwang-tung province, in the department of
Lien-chau and near the city of Hóhpú. Fishing began in the spring, and
was preceded by conciliating the gods through certain sacrifices, in
order that the weather might be propitious and that no disaster might be
suffered through sharks and other agencies. The five sacrificial
animals,—horses, cattle, sheep, swine, and fowls,—were presented; but
ordinarily paper images of these were economically substituted, as
equally acceptable to the Chinese rulers of destiny. In the details of
the diving, the fishery resembled somewhat that prosecuted about the
same period in the Gulf of Manaar. The diver was let down by a rope, and
after collecting the mollusks and placing them in a basket, he was drawn
up at a given signal. Much complaint was made that the divers would open
the mollusks, extract the pearls and conceal them in the mouth before
returning to the surface.

The business became so perilous and the loss so great, that about the
beginning of the sixteenth century, according to the same encyclopedia,
dredges were adopted. These at first were simple rakes; later large
dredges were trailed along between two boats, by means of which great
quantities of shells were gathered. So important was the industry that
an officer was designated by the viceroy of Canton to collect a revenue
therefrom. It does not appear that pearls have been collected in
considerable numbers on this part of the Chinese coast for very many
years, probably not since the advent of Europeans.

Pearls are yet found in the river mussels in all parts of eastern Asia,
from Siberia to the Indian Ocean, and from the Himalayas to the Pacific.
It is represented that they are not from the _Unio margaritifera_, the
common river-mussel of Europe, but from other species, such as _Unio
mongolicus_, _U. dahuricus_, _Dipsas plicatus_, etc. It is quite
impossible to obtain a reliable estimate of the total number of persons
employed, or the output of pearls in China, but these items are
certainly very much larger than the average Occidental believes.

In the vicinity of Canton the _Dipsas plicatus_ has been used for
centuries by the Chinese in the production of artificial pearls, this
industry giving employment to thousands of persons.[172]

The pearl-mussel fishery is of importance in Manchuria, where it has
been carried on for hundreds of years, not only by the citizens, but by
the military department on account of the government, and especially in
the streams which flow into the Songari, a tributary of the Amur.
Jacinth relates that in case of a deficit, the officers and subalterns
were punished by a deduction from their pay, and also by corporal
chastisement.[173] Witsen speaks of the pearls from the River Gan, a
tributary of the Amur, and also from the islands of the Amur, the
boundary river of Manchuria. Pearl fisheries were established at these
places by the Russians nearly two centuries ago.[174]

Pearls become finer and more plentiful the further we penetrate into
Manchuria; and they are numerous in the lake of Heikow or Hing-chou-men,
“Black Lake” or “Gate of Precious Gems,” where they have long been
exploited for the account of the emperor of China.

The occurrence of pearls in many parts of Asiatic Russia was noted by
Von Hessling. In northern Siberia, according to Witsen, writing in
1705,[175] pearls were found in the waters about the town of Mangasea on
the Turuchan; and Von Middendorf notes that they were found in the
Tunguska River, which flows into the Yenisei. Whether, however, they
come from the _Unio margaritifera_ is considered doubtful by Von
Middendorf. Witsen referred to their occurrence in the rivers and
streams of Irkutsk and Onon, and this is confirmed by several writers of
more recent times. Pallas says that the mussels found there are quite
large, and speaks of the Ilim, which flows into the Angara, as another
river where they occur.

Ancient books relating to Japan repeatedly allude to the occurrence of
pearls on the coasts of that country. They are mentioned in the Nihonki,
of the eighth century, the oldest Japanese history.

Tavernier wrote about 1670: “It is possible that of those who have
written before me concerning pearls, none have recorded that some years
back a fishery was discovered in a certain part of the coasts of Japan,
and I have seen some of the pearls which the Dutch brought from thence.
They were of very beautiful water, and some of them of large size, but
all baroques. The Japanese do not esteem pearls. If they cared about
them it is possible that by their means some banks might be discovered
where finer ones would be obtained.”[176]

In 1727, Kaempfer wrote that pearls, called by the Japanese _kainotamma_
or shell jewels, were found in oysters and other mollusks almost
everywhere about Saikokf. Every person was at liberty to fish for them.
Formerly the natives had little or no value for them, till they learned
of their estimation by the Chinese, who were ready to pay good prices
for them, their women being very proud of wearing necklaces and other
ornaments of pearls. “The largest and finest pearls are found in the
small sort of oysters, called _akoja_, which is not unlike the Persian
pearl-oyster. These are found only in the seas about Satzuma and in the
Gulf of Omura (Kiusiu). Some of the pearls weigh from four to five
candareens[177] and these are sold for a hundred kobans each.[178] The
inhabitants of the Loochoo Islands buy most of those about Satzuma,
since they trade to that province. Those found on the Gulf of Omura are
sold chiefly to the Chinese and Tunquinese, and it is computed that they
buy for about 3000 taels[179] a year. This great profit occasioned the
strict orders, which were made not long ago by the princes both of
Satzuma and Omura, that for the future there should be no more of these
oysters sold in the market with other oysters, as had been done
formerly.”[180]

Kaempfer also noted that the Japanese obtained pearls from the yellow
snail shell and from the _taira gai_ (Placuna) in the Gulf of Arima, and
especially from the awabi or abalone (Haliotis). This mollusk was much
sought after for food, being taken in large quantities by the
fishermen’s wives, “they being the best divers of the country.”[181]

Of the several species of pearl-oysters which occur in the coastal
waters of Japan, the only one of importance at present is the
_Margaritifera martensi_. While this occurs in very many localities, it
is most numerous among the southern islands, where some fine pearls have
been secured. The fishery for this species was quite extensive thirty or
forty years ago, and the reefs were largely depleted. For nearly a score
of years it has been used in growing culture pearls, an account of which
is given on pages 292, 293.

A few pearls are obtained from several other bivalve mollusks in Japan.
Among the collections of the present writers are pearls from
_Margaritifera martensi_, collected at Bay Agu; from _M. panasisæ_,
about the Liu-kiu Islands; from _Pecten yezocusis_, in Sokhaido; from
_Mytilus crasitesta_, in the Inland Sea, and from North Japan, and from
a species of Dipsas found in Lake Biwa.

While the pearl fisheries of Japan are not of great importance in any
single locality, the distribution of the reefs is so extensive that the
aggregate yield is considerable.

The awabi or ear-shell (_Haliotis gigantea_), found on the coast of
Japan, Korea, etc., yields many pearly forms. This species is much
smaller than the California abalones. It has a fairly smooth, nacreous
surface, but its value is depreciated by the great size of the marginal
perforations, which render useless for commercial purposes all of the
shell external to the line of perforations. While its opalescent tints
make it desirable for manufacturing into certain styles of buttons and
buckles, its principal use is for inlaying work or marquetry, for which
it is especially adapted, owing to its fineness of texture and beauty of
coloring even when reduced to thin sheets.

Probably the most interesting of the abalone fisheries is that on the
shores of Quelpaerd Island, about sixty miles south of the Korean coast,
which is prosecuted largely by the women. Dressed only in a scanty
garment, these women swim out to the fishing grounds, distant several
hundred yards in some cases, carrying with them a stout knife and a
small sack suspended from a gourd. On reaching the reefs, they dive to
the bottom—sometimes to a depth of six or eight fathoms—and by means of
the knife, remove the abalones from the bottom and place them in the
sack. They may remain out an hour, diving repeatedly until the sack is
filled, when they swim back to the shore. Pearls are found only rarely;
in one lot of one hundred shells, only five were found bearing pearls;
two with three pearls each, two with two pearls each, and one with a
single pearl. The flesh of this mollusk after it has been cleaned and
dried, is quite popular as an article of diet. Although white when
fresh, the color changes to a dark red. The pieces of dried flesh, in
the form of flat reddish disks four or five inches in diameter, are
fastened on slender sticks—about ten to each stick—and displayed in the
grocery shops in Seul and other cities.

In the Gulf of Siam on the Asiatic coast, pearls are obtained from a
small oyster with a thin shell, presumably a variety of the Lingah
oyster. The beds have not yet been thoroughly exploited, as the Siamese
do not especially value pearls, attributing some superstitious
sentiments of ill luck to them. However, from time to time Chinese
traders have bought them from the Malay divers and sold them at great
profit in the Singapore market. The known beds occur chiefly in the
northern part of the gulf, on the west coast, and extend in a narrow
belt for a distance of about one hundred miles. The fishing is
prosecuted by nude divers in shallow water. A recent letter from Dr. K.
Van Dort, a mining engineer of Bangkok, Siam, states that in 1906 in six
weeks, with the aid of half a dozen divers he was able to collect 720
grains’ weight of pearls, mostly small ones, but including one of 20
grains, one of 14 grains, two of 12 grains each, and seven over 9 grains
in weight. He reports that the total value of the large ones in Bangkok
was $1500, but the small ones could not be sold to any advantage, as
they are little prized by the Siamese. The shells are of no commercial
value, as they are too thin for industrial use other than for inlaid
work. Some fine old specimens of marquetry in which these shells were
used exist in the Buddhist temples at Bangkok. This art of inlaying is
almost lost among the Siamese, and there is said to be only one man in
the king’s palace who can lay any claims to proficiency in working
mother-of-pearl shell.

 


VII

PEARLS FROM THE AFRICAN COASTS

 


VII
EAST AFRICAN PEARL FISHERIES


The Islanders with fleecy curls,
Whose homes are compass’d by the Arabian waves;
By whom those shells which breed the orient pearls
Are dived and fish’d for in their green sea caves.

TASSO, _Jerusalem Delivered_.

The principal pearl fisheries of the coasts of Africa are those
prosecuted in the Red Sea, between this continent and Asia. These have
already been described in the preceding chapter, among the Asiatic
fisheries; for, although situated between the two continents, they are
prosecuted largely by Arabs rather than by natives of the western shores
of the sea.

Other than those in the Red Sea, the only pearl resources in Africa
which have received attention are on the eastern coast, south of the
Gulf of Aden. Little information exists as to the origin of these
fisheries. In a paper published by the Lisbon Geographical Society,
January, 1903, Señor Ivens Ferranz states that, according to tradition,
in remote times the Ibo Archipelago, on the northeast coast of
Portuguese East Africa, was inhabited by a Semitic colony, which located
there to fish for pearls, and these were carried through the Red Sea to
King Solomon. He adds that there is little doubt that, after the great
emigration which started from the Persian Gulf in 982 and founded
Zanzibar, Kilwa, and Sofala on this coast, some Arabs engaged in fishing
for pearls about the islands near Sofala.

In 1609 Joao dos Santos wrote that on the sandy sea bottom about the
Bazaruto Islands, which are about 150 miles south of Sofala, there were
many large oysters which bore pearls, and the natives fished for them by
diving in practically the same manner as in the Persian Gulf.[182]

In a personal memorandum, Sir Robert Edgcumbe states that in the very
early times of Portuguese exploitation on the eastern coast of Africa,
pearl fishing was carried on in these waters. For a long period the
tenure of power exerted by the Portuguese was of a feeble character;
they practically occupied no position of importance on the mainland, but
seized upon stations on the islands which offered decent harbors. Thus
their chief settlements, such as Mozambique and Ibo, were on islands
lying off the coast, and until recent years they made no serious attempt
to occupy the mainland.

Arabs and Banyans carried on the commercial traffic of the country, as
they still do, and they were more truly the masters of this coast than
were the Portuguese, who were little more than nominal rulers. Trading
to and from India in their small dhows, the Arabs and Banyans had full
knowledge of the value of pearls, and undoubtedly secured all that were
obtainable. But they observed no restrictions, and without doubt—for a
time, at any rate—greatly impaired the productive power of the
fisheries.

The principal pearl reefs of East Africa, so far as known at present,
extend along the coast of the German East African territory from the
Province of Uzaramo to the Rovuma River, the southern limit of that
territory, and also into Portuguese East Africa as far south as Pemba
Bay, a total distance of about 300 miles. Along much of this coast,
there are islands lying from one to two miles off shore, and between
these islands are barriers of reefs, which create a series of lagoons.
In these lagoons, protected by the islands and the reefs from the
influence of the surf formed by the Indian monsoons, there are large
patches of coral rock and groups of living coral, which form excellent
attachments for the pearl-oysters.

It is only recently that serious attention has been paid to these pearl
resources, although year by year a considerable number of pearls have
been collected by the natives and sold to Arabs and Banyans, who have
sent them chiefly to India by way of Zanzibar. The natives of these
parts are not very expert in diving, and they collect the oysters
principally by wading out as far as they can at low tide. They do not
wait for the mollusks to attain a proper age, and as a result they find
few pearls of large size. Many parcels of pearls fished in this very
elementary way pass through the custom-house, where they are subject to
a small duty for export, and others are smuggled out of the country.
Quantities of seed-pearls are sent to India, where they are used
principally as a medicine and in cosmetics; and occasionally there are
rumors that some choice pearls have been discovered.

In the German territory a concession of the fisheries was granted a few
years ago to Dr. Aurel Schulz; and, although we are not in position to
say what success he has met with, it is reported that he has secured a
considerable number of pearls under four grains in weight, of fair shape
and quality and of good marketable value.

A concession of the pearl fishery on the Portuguese coast north of Ibo
has been granted to the East African Pearl Company. For this company an
examination of the resources is now being made by Mr. James J. Simpson,
acting under direction of Prof. W. A. Herdman, of the Liverpool
University, the technical advisor of the Ceylon Company of Pearl
Fishers.

At least four species of pearl-bearing mollusks exist here; these are
_Margaritifera vulgaris_, _M. margaritifera_, _Pinna nobilis_, and a
species of Perna, named in the order of their importance. A preliminary
report of Mr. Simpson (supplied through the courtesy of Sir Robert
Edgcumbe), states that among the Ibo Islands about one half of the
bottom is sandy and the other half is covered with detached pieces of
coral rock, groups of living corals, masses of nullipore, and expanses
of fixed seaweed. On all of these in the shoal waters, there is such an
abundance of pearl-oysters (_M. vulgaris_) that a single diver, by
simply descending and bringing up a few in his hands each time, can
secure about 200 in fifteen minutes. Oysters also occur singly on the
sandy bottom, but not so abundantly. Within the three-year-old oysters
there are many seed-pearls. It is evident that there has been an
extensive removal of large oysters in recent years and that large pearls
were then found; but the depredations of the natives now prevent the
mollusks from attaining an age and size which render them useful as
pearl-bearers.

Said Mr. Simpson in his report: “The women here play great havoc on the
reefs by going out daily and collecting the pearl-oysters at low tide.
All along the coast from Muliga Point to Arimba the shores are covered
with shells. At one place we came across a heap of freshly-opened
oysters which consisted of thirty or forty thousand at the lowest
estimate; while an older heap contained between forty to sixty millions.
Four women who were fishing on the reefs while we were there had over
two thousand oysters in their baskets. Thus it is evident that immense
quantities are annually destroyed. And the worst feature is that out of
those destroyed, not one per cent. were over two years old.”

It is the intention of the East African Pearl Company, as soon as the
investigation of the resources is completed, to police the fishing
grounds so as to put an end to the removal of immature oysters, which
yield only seed-pearls, and to permit them to attain maturity. In
addition to this, it is their purpose to utilize the extensive beds of
oysters lying in comparatively deep water, which are now inaccessible to
the natives owing to their lack of diving skill.

Sir Robert Edgcumbe writes that it is impossible to say more at present
than that these fisheries at one time bore a high repute, and that the
oysters have continued to exist in multitudes though fished by the
natives in the immature state; and there is every indication that if
properly policed and worked in a scientific way these fisheries should
once again become of much importance. The fact that the pearl-bearing
oysters are found there in large quantities, notwithstanding that they
have been poached without restriction by the natives, indicates that
only proper management and policing are necessary to make them valuable
and productive.

On the lower coast of Portuguese East Africa, pearl fishing has been of
some local importance. The reefs are most extensive about the Bazaruto
Islands, previously referred to as about 150 miles south of Sofala. In
1888, when famine prevailed on this coast, the inhabitants of this
archipelago, of both sexes and of all ages, fished for the large
pearl-oysters (known locally as _mapalo_), selling their catch at
Chiloane to Asiatic traders, who gave them a handful of rice for a large
basket of the mollusks. It was estimated that during two months of that
year, pearls to the value of eighty _contos_ ($83,500) were taken.[183]
In 1889 three British subjects attempted to renew the fishery by using
dredges, but without success, owing, it is said, to the great weight of
the implements.

The Kafirs of Bazaruto continue to fish irregularly, but their catch is
not of importance. These pearls are carried by traders to Zanzibar,
Muscat, and Bombay. The American consul writes that some years ago the
Portuguese government granted a concession to a company of American
fishermen to exploit the Bazaruto reefs, but the attempt to work the
concession failed through “bad management, lack of funds, heavy
expenses, and political difficulties,” a combination apparently
sufficient to wreck a similar attempt in the most favorable locality.

The American consul at Tamatave states that in 1907 the government of
Madagascar awarded two grants for pearl fisheries, covering the entire
western coast, a distance of one thousand miles, excepting two hundred
miles, for which two grants were given in 1906. Apparently no effort was
made to develop the earlier grants; the later ones may be operated,
perhaps jointly. These concessions are personal, and may not be sold or
transferred without the governor-general’s consent. The use of divers,
machinery, dredges, and other apparatus, and the building of necessary
stations are allowed, if there be no interference with navigation,
fishing, or coast travel. An annual tax is to be paid, with a stated
increase each year, and revised according to the success of the
enterprise. A report must be sent yearly to the governor-general. The
grants may be revoked if work is not begun within a stated period; if
the work is needlessly abandoned during one year, or if the tax is not
paid. Whenever the interests of the colony or of the public service
require it, the privilege may be withdrawn without indemnity.

 


VIII

EUROPEAN PEARL FISHERIES

THE BRITISH ISLES, THE CONTINENT OF EUROPE

 


VIII
PEARL FISHERIES OF THE BRITISH ISLES


And Britain’s ancient shores great pearls produce.

MARBODUS (_circa_ 1070).

The occurrence of pearls in the British Isles was known two thousand
years ago, and frequent references to them were made in Roman writings
of the first and second centuries of the Christian era.

In his “Lives of the Cæsars,” the biographer Suetonius, after speaking
of the admiration which Julius Cæsar had for pearls, states that their
occurrence in Britain was an important factor in inducing the first
Roman invasion of that country in 55 B.C.[184] If this be true, the
English-speaking people owe a vast debt of gratitude to these pearls in
bringing their Briton ancestors in contact with Roman civilization; and
the influence which they have thus exercised on the world’s history has
been greater than that of the pearls from all other regions or, we might
add, than all other jewels.

The naturalist Pliny (23–79) stated: “In Brittaine it is certain that
some do grow; but they bee small, dim of colour, and nothing orient. For
Julius Cæsar (late Emperor of famous memorie) doth not dissimble, that
the cuirace or breastplate which he dedicated to Venus mother within her
temple was made of English pearles.”[185]

This decoration of pearls was a very proper offering to the goddess who
arose from the sea.

The historian Tacitus noted in “Vita Agricolæ” that the pearls from
Britain were dusky or brownish (_subfusca ac liventia_).[186] In his
commentaries on the Gospel of Matthew, Origen (185–253), one of the
Greek fathers of the church, described the British pearls as next in
value to the Indian. Their surface, he stated, was of a golden color,
but they were cloudy and less transparent than those from India.

We have no certain information whether the pearls secured by the Romans
were from the edible mussel (_Mytilus edulis_) of the sea-coast or from
the Unios of the fresh-water streams. Tacitus’s statement that they were
collected “as the sea throws them up,” seems to locate them on the
sea-coast; but conditions in modern times make it appear more probable
that they were from the fresh waters.

Some of the very early coins of the country indicate that pearls were
used to ornament the imperial diadem of the sovereigns of ancient
Britain. In “Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum,” the celebrated
English monk, Bede (673–735) surnamed “The Venerable,” enumerated among
other things for which Britain was famous in his day, “many sorts of
shell-fish, among which are mussels, in which are often found excellent
pearls of all colours; red, purple, violet and green, but mostly
white.”[187] And Marbodus, Bishop of Rennes, in his lapidarium, written
about 1070, refers to the British pearls as equaling those of Persia and
India. About 1094 a present of an Irish pearl was made to Anselm,
Archbishop of Canterbury, by Gilbert, Bishop of Limerick.[188]

In the twelfth century there was a market for Scotch pearls in Europe,
but they were less valued than those from the Orient.[189] An ordinance
of John II, King of France, in August, 1355, which confirmed the old
statutes and privileges of goldsmiths and jewelers, expressly forbade
mounting Scotch and oriental pearls together in the same article, except
in ecclesiastical jewelry (Orfèvre ne peut mettre en œuvre d’or ne
argent parles d’Ecosse avec parles d’orient se ce n’est en grands
joyaulx d’église).[190]

Writing in the sixteenth century, the historian William Camden
(1551–1623) stated in his “Britannia”:

The British and Irish Pearls are found in a large black Muscle….
They are peculiar to rapid and stony rivers; and are common in
Wales, and in the North of England, and in Scotland, and some parts
of Ireland. In this country they are called by the vulgar _Kregin
Diliw_, i.e. Deluge shells; as if Nature had not intended the shells
for the rivers; but being brought thither by the Universal Deluge,
they had continued there, and so propagated their kind ever since.
Those who fish here for Pearls, know partly by the outside of these
Muscles, whether they contain any; for generally such as have them
are a little contracted or distorted from their usual shape. A
curious and accomplished Gentleman, lately of these parts, showed me
a valuable Collection of the Pearls of the Conway River in Wales;
amongst which I noted a stool-pearl [button-pearl], weighing
seventeen grains, and distinguished on the convex side with a fair
round spot of a Cornelian colour, exactly in the center.[191]

In 1560 “large handsome pearls” were sent from Scotland to Antwerp.[192]
In 1620 a great pearl was found in the Kellie Burn, in Aberdeenshire.
This was carried to King James by the provost, who was rewarded with
“twelve to fourdeen chalder of victuals about Dunfermline, and the
Customs of Merchants’ goods in Aberdeen during his life.” No record
appears of the reward paid to the finder; possibly it was not worth
recording.

In 1621 the Privy Council of Scotland issued a proclamation that pearls
found within the realm belonged to the Crown; and conservators of the
pearl fisheries were appointed in several of the counties, including
Aberdeen, Ross, and Sutherland. It was the duty of the conservators,
among other things, to nominate experts to fish for pearls during July
and August, “when they are at chief perfection.” The conservators and
fishermen were compensated by selling those pearls of ordinary quality,
but “the best for bignesse and colour” were to be remitted to the king.
It was reported to the Privy Council that the conservator in
Aberdeenshire did very well in the first year. “He hath not only taken
divers pearls of good value, but hath found some in waters where none
were expected.” The first parliament of Charles I abolished these
privileges.

Robert Sibbald, physician to Charles II, wrote that he had seen a
necklace of Scotch pearls which was valued at two thousand crowns; they
were “larger than peas, perfectly round, and of a brilliant
whiteness.”[193]

It is said that Sir Richard Wynne of Gwydir presented to Catherine of
Braganza, queen of Charles II of England, a pearl from the Conway in
Wales, which is said to be even yet retained in the royal crown. In his
“Faerie Queene” (1590), Spenser speaks of the

Conway, which out of his streame doth send
Plenty of pearles to deck his dames withal.

The White Cart River in Scotland, on which the city of Paisley is
situated, was distinguished, according to Camden, “for the largeness and
the fineness of the Pearls that are frequently found hereabouts and
three miles above.”[194] And the pearls from Irton in Cumberland,
England, were so noted at that time that “fair as Irton pearls” became a
byword in the north country. In their history of Westmoreland and
Cumberland,[195] Nicolson and Burn state that “Mr. Thomas Patrickson,
late of How of this county (Cumberland), having employed divers poor
inhabitants to gather these pearls, obtained such a quantity as he sold
to the jewellers in London for above £800.” But in 1794 Hutchinson[196]
stated that none had been seen for many years past.

Pearl fishing in Ireland was of some consequence in the seventeenth
century. Speaking of the Slaney River, Solomon Richards, in a
description of Wexford about the year 1656, said: “It ought to precede
all the rivers in Ireland for its pearle fishing, which though not
abundant are yet excellent, for muscles are daily taken out of it about
fowre, five and six inches long, in which are often found pearles, for
lustre, magnitude and rotundity not inferior to oriental or any other in
the world.”[197] In 1693 Sir Robert Redding wrote that there were four
rivers in the county of Tyrone in northern Ireland which abounded in
pearl-mussels, all four emptying into Lough Foyle and thence into the
sea. They were also to be found in several rivers in the adjacent
Donegal County. Redding gave an interesting description of the fishery:

In the warm months before harvest is ripe, whilst the rivers are low
and clear, the poor people go into the water and take them up, some
with their toes, some with wooden tongs, and some by putting a
sharpened stick into the opening of the shell; and although by
common estimate not above one shell in a hundred may have a pearl,
and of these pearls not above one in a hundred be tolerably clear,
yet a vast number of fair merchantable pearls, and too good for the
apothecary, are offered to sale by those people every summer assize.
Some gentlemen of the country make good advantage thereof, and I
myself, whilst there, saw a pearl bought for £2, 10s. that weighed
36 carats, and was valued at £40, and had it been as clear as some
others produced therewith it would certainly have been very
valuable. Everybody abounds with stories of the good pennyworths of
the country, but I will add but one more. A miller took a pearl,
which he sold for £4, 10s. to a man that sold it for £10 to another,
who sold it to the late Lady Glenanly for £30, with whom I saw it in
a necklace; she refused £80 for it from the late Duchess of Ormond.

The young muscles never have any pearl in them. The shells that have
the best pearls are wrinkled, twisted, or bunched, and not smooth
and equal, as those that have none. And the crafty fellows will
guess so well by the shell, that though you watch them never so
carefully, they will open such shells under the water, and put the
pearls in their mouths, or otherwise conceal them. Yet sometimes
when they have been taking up shells, and believing by such signs as
I have mentioned, that they were sure of good purchase, and refused
good sums for their shares, they found no pearl at all in them. Upon
discourse with an old man that had been long at this trade, he
advised me to seek not only when the waters were low, but on a
dusky, gloomy day also, lest, said he, the fish see you, for then he
will shed his pearl in the sand; of which I believe no more than
that some muscles have voided their pearls, and such are often found
in the sands.[198]

For several years following 1760, the Scotch pearl fisheries were of
considerable local value. The zoölogist, Thomas Pennant, wrote of them
several times in his “Tour of Scotland.” Referring to the Tay and Isla
rivers, then as now the center of the Scotch pearling, he states: “There
has been in these parts a very great fishery of pearl, got out of the
fresh-water muscles. From the year 1761 to 1764, £10,000 worth were sent
to London, and sold from 10s. to £1 6s. per ounce. I was told that a
pearl had been taken there that weighed 33 grains. But this fishery is
at present exhausted, from the avarice of the undertakers. It once
extended as far as Loch Tay.”[199] And he adds later that, some years
preceding, a pearl fishery was prosecuted in Loch Dochart with great
success and the pearls were esteemed the fairest and largest of any.

From 1770 to 1860 the pearl resources of Scotland remained almost
dormant, and Scotch pearls were rarely met with in the markets. In 1861
a German merchant, who was acquainted with the beauty of these gems,
traveled through the districts of Tay, Doon and Don, obtaining a great
number which the poor people kept for their own pleasure, not esteeming
them of any market value, and interested the fishermen in searching for
the mussels. The seemingly high prices which he paid and the abundance
of the pearls sent hundreds of persons to the rivers and small brooks.
Those who were otherwise employed during the day devoted hours of the
long summer nights to diligent search after the coveted shells; while
boys and old persons, who were without regular avocations, waded day
after day where there was a probability of reward. In the course of a
short time pearls, good, bad and indifferent, reached the originator of
the movement at Edinburgh, from Ayrshire, from Perthshire, and from the
Highland regions far beyond the Grampians. He was soon the possessor of
a collection which, for richness and variety, had seldom been surpassed.
A trade in these gems was developed, the patronage of royalty was
obtained, and once more Scotch pearls became fashionable, and their
vogue was enhanced by the fondness which Queen Victoria entertained for
them.

In addition to the rivers named, pearls were found in the Forth, the
Teith, the Ythan, and the Spey in eastern Scotland. The summer of 1862
was most favorable for pearling, owing to the dryness of the season and
the low water, and unusually large quantities of pearls were found, the
prices ranging ordinarily from 10s. to £2 6s. Queen Victoria is said to
have purchased one for forty guineas; others were bought by Empress
Eugénie and by the Duchess of Hamilton. A necklace of them was sold for
£350 in 1863.[200] The value of the entire catch in Scotland in 1864 was
estimated at £12,000 to the fishermen, the yield being unusually large
in that season owing to the unprecedented drought which permitted access
to the deep beds of the rivers. In some of the streams the resources
were quickly depleted, but in others the fisheries yielded profitable
returns for many years. While most of the pearls were small, some of
them were choice and of considerable individual value, ranging from £5
to £150, and £500 is said to have been paid for one fine specimen.

The pearl-mussel of the British Isles (_Unio margaritifera_) has a
thick, coarse and unsightly shell, from 3 to 7 inches in width and 1½ to
2½ inches in length from the umbo to the lip. The rough exterior is dark
brown, and it is sometimes twisted, distorted and barnacled.

It generally lies scattered and detached over the pebbly bottoms, but it
also exists in reefs or beds which are sometimes of considerable extent.
These occur usually where a stretch of water is still and deep, and
oftentimes where the depth places the mussels beyond the reach of the
fishermen. Apart from the pearls it contains, the mussel is of no
economic value except that in some localities the mollusk is used for
bait in cod-fishing.

In recent years the pearl-mussel has been numerous in several of the
rivers of Scotland, such as the Tay, Earn, and Teith in Perthshire; the
Dee, the Don, and the Ythan in Aberdeenshire; the Spey and Findhorn in
Inverness-shire, and also the classic Doon of Burns, the Nith, the Annan
and others in southern Scotland; however, it is rare in the Clyde and
the Tweed.

The Teith has long been famed for pearl-bearing, though like other
rivers it has become nearly fished out. The Tay produces many pearls,
yet as a rule they are not of the best class. Some of its tributaries,
as the Tummel and the Isla, also bear pearls; those in the Isla are
usually fine and rank higher than those from the Tay. The Earn is also
famous for the fine quality of its pearls, but the whole river was
robbed of its wealth some years ago by a body of professional fishermen,
and it has not yet recovered from the raid; few pearls now exist there
save in the deeper pools, where doubtless may still be hid “full many a
gem of purest ray serene.”

In Ireland pearls have been found principally in the rivers of counties
Kerry, Donegal, Tyrone, Antrum, etc. In an article in “The Field,”
December 10, 1864, Mr. F. T. Buckland stated that they abound near
Oughterard, and that a man called “Jemmy the Pearl-catcher,” who lived
there, told him that he knew when a mussel had a pearl in it even
without opening the shell, because “she [the mussel] sits upright with
her mouth in the mud, and her back is crooked,” that is, corrugated like
a ram’s horn. Pearls are yet found in several localities in the Emerald
Isle, notably in the river Bann in the northeastern part and in the
beautiful Connemara district in western Ireland. In 1892 the Bann
yielded one of the choicest pearls that ever came from Ireland. Within
the last twelve months Lady Dudley, wife of the Viceroy of Ireland,
presented to Queen Alexandra a number of pearls from the Connemara.
These were mounted in a green enameled brooch, and excited so much
admiration that an active demand for similar gems quickly developed in
County Galway.

Mr. D. MacGregor, a well-known jeweler of Perth, to whom we are indebted
for much information relative to pearls in Scotland, states that no
attention whatever is given to conserving the mussel; on the contrary,
the waters are unscrupulously despoiled by the greedy pearl fisherman
who destroys all that he finds, since, by chance, they may yield the
coveted gem. Immense numbers are thus wantonly destroyed, which if
allowed to grow and propagate would be more likely to contribute to the
pearl yield, as it is well known that it is the aged mussels in which a
pearl is most likely to be found. There is no close time, and so
extensive have been the raids upon the mussels in recent years that they
have been rapidly exterminated in places accessible to the fishermen;
and should the spoliation continue and extend to the deep waters, the
pearl-mussel may soon become extinct.

Pearl fishing is not prosecuted throughout the year, as it can be
carried on only in the dry season when the waters are low. There are a
number of professional fishermen who search in their favorite streams,
and sometimes very profitably, as much as £200 having been gained in a
single season by one fisherman. One of the most noted of these was
“Pearl Johnnie,” who a few years ago hailed from Compar-Angus, in
Perthshire, and who styled himself “Pearl Fisher to the Prince of
Wales,” by reason of some dealings he once had with his Royal Highness.
He was very successful in his experience of more than thirty years.
There is little mystery in the search; skill does not always avail, and
men, women and children are rewarded or disappointed indiscriminately.
The bed of the stream is searched until the patches of mussels are
discovered, and this is usually the most tedious part of the work. These
may be in very shoal water, where a small boy has only to wade with
water above his knees and pick up the mussels by stooping; but more
frequently the water covers a man’s hips, and at times he is immersed
almost to the shoulders.

The equipment of a pearl fisherman is simple. If he wades, he commonly
wears long boots with tops reaching to his breast. Provided with a pole
five or six feet long having a cleft at the lower end, and with a tube
several inches in diameter with the lower end closed by a glass, he
invades the home of the pearl-mussel. Thrusting the tube or water glass
beneath the surface, he scans the bed of the stream, and when a mussel
is sighted, the cleft pole is brought into use and it is picked up by
means of these primitive tongs. Owing to the close resemblance which the
pearl-mussel bears to the stones in the riverbed, good eyesight is
required to avoid overlooking it. A bag by the fisher’s side receives
the catch; and when this is well filled, he goes to the bank of the
stream and opens his lottery, in the great majority of cases to find
that he has drawn a blank.

A boat is seldom used, simply because it is not available, but in the
tidal waters it is indispensable. The “box” is a risky device for
fishing in the deeper waters. It is a small contrivance, somewhat like
the ancient British coracle, in which the fisherman sits or lies over on
his chest; venturing out in the deeper parts which can not be waded, he
carefully peers through the tube and draws up his find with the long
cleft stick. This is a tiresome method, but some places can not be
readily fished in any other manner.

In Aberdeenshire, Perthshire, etc., there are a few men who regularly
spend the season “at the pearls.” The knowing ones dispose of their best
finds to wealthy residents or to strangers and tourists who frequent the
vicinity. In addition to these experienced fishermen, many of the idlers
and unemployed about the riverside towns, and also the farm servants in
the country, search the waters in their neighborhood in the hope of
picking up some gems. But very often it is severe and disappointing
labor, for the pearl-seeker may travel far and endure privation and
hardships for days, and yet, after destroying hundreds and even
thousands of mussels, he may be rewarded with only a little almost
worthless dross; but again and again he returns to the elusive game,
inspired by the “hope which springs eternal in the human breast.”

The British pearls are in great variety of colors, but most of them are
practically valueless on account of the absence of orient or luster; for
one possessing the white pearly luster, fifty may be found of a dull
color and devoid of value. Many of these opaque pearls are dark,
lusterless brown, and handfuls of them sell for only a few shillings. A
large percentage are of a grayish or milky color, or of a bluish white
tinge; these seldom attain much value unless aided by excellence of
shape and purity of skin. A few are of a dark, fiery tint and of great
luster. Sometimes the pearl is of a beautiful pink tint, sometimes of a
light violet, or other exquisite shade. The fine pink ones are very rare
and are highly prized. The best are those having the sweet, pure white
light which constitutes the inimitable loveliness of a pearl; but few of
them are found even in the most favorable seasons, and usually these are
from the streams in the northeastern counties and some of the streams in
the southwest. Very few combine the qualities of perfection in shape and
luster; and the product of many seasons might be examined in vain to
furnish enough pearls to make a well-matched necklace of gems weighing
from five to ten grains each. But occasionally beautiful specimens are
discovered, weighing fifteen or twenty grains or more. One found in
Aberdeenshire a few years ago, perfect in shape and luster, weighed
twenty-five grains, and sold at first hand for £50. Another one, found
at the confluence of the Almond and the Tay in 1865, weighed thirty
grains.

While most of these pearls are sold to jewelers in Edinburgh, Aberdeen,
Inverness, Perth, and other towns, many of the finest specimens have
gone into the possession of prominent Scotch and English families, who
have a fancy for collecting them. Queen Victoria possessed a fine
collection of Scotch pearls, choice specimens of many years’ search,
obtained almost exclusively from the Aberdeenshire waters which murmur
round her beautiful Highland home. In 1907, a Scotch pearl was sold in
Perth for the sum of £80; this was of a good luster with a bluish tint,
it was spherical, measured seven sixteenths of an inch in diameter, and
weighed twenty-one grains.

The falling off in the yield of pearls in some streams is credited to a
certain extent to the building of bridges and the consequent abandonment
of fords. This is based on the theory that injury to the mollusk has
something to do with the production of pearls, and that they are to be
found more plentiful about fords and places where cattle drink. The
theory is beautifully stated by the lamented Hugh Miller: “I found
occasion to conclude that the Unio of our river-fords secretes pearls so
much more frequently than the Unionidae and Anadonta of our still pools
and lakes, not from any specific peculiarity in the constitution of the
creature, but from the effects of the habitat which it chooses. It
receives in the fords and shallows of a rapid river many a rough blow
from the sticks and pebbles carried down in time of flood, and
occasionally from the feet of men and animals that cross the stream
during droughts, and the blows induce the morbid secretions, of which
pearls are the result. There seems to exist no inherent cause why
_Anadon cygnea_, with its beautiful silvery nacre—as bright often, and
always more delicate, than that of _Unio margaritiferus_—should not be
equally productive of pearls; but secure from violence in its still
pools and lakes, and unexposed to the circumstances that provoke
abnormal secretions, it does not produce a single pearl for every
hundred that are ripened into value and beauty by the exposed,
current-tossed Unionidae of our rapid mountain rivers. Would that
hardship and suffering bore always in a creature of a greatly higher
family similar results, and that the hard buffets dealt him by fortune
in the rough stream of life could be transmitted, by some blessed
internal pre-disposition of his nature, into pearls of great
price.”[201]

The small blue mussel (_Mytilus edulis_) of the British seas yields
opaque pearls of a deep blue color, but most of them are more or less
white in some part. Sometimes a shell is found in which a blue pearl
will be adhering to the blue lip of the shell while a dull white one
adheres to the white portion of the shell. These pearls are commonly
flattened on one side, doubtless where they have been adjacent to the
shell. None of them is of more than very slight value.

Probably the principal fishery for the salt-water mussel pearls is that
in the estuary of the Conway in Wales. These are mostly quite small and
well answer the designation of seed-pearls, although a few are of fair
size. In color most of them range from dirty white to the dusky or
brownish tint noted by Tacitus eighteen centuries ago, but a few are of
a pure silvery tint. In some seasons London dealers have agents at
Conway for purchasing these pearls. The price is usually from eight to
thirty shillings per ounce.


THE CONTINENT OF EUROPE

Après l’esprit de discernement, ce qu’il y a au monde de plus rare,
ce sont les diamants et les perles.

LA BRUYÈRE, _Les caractères_.

Pearls occur in species of mussels found in the streams and lakes of
Europe, in some of which the fisheries have been of considerable local
interest. It appears that these resources were exploited by the Romans,
then by the Goths and the Lombards, and later the natives continued to
draw forth the treasures which lay hidden about their homes. These
pearls have attracted attention up to the present time; and while they
do not compare with those of the seas, either in quality or in aggregate
value, yet they are prized on account of their intrinsic worth as well
as because they are a product of the fatherland. In the densely
populated valleys, the rivers are so polluted by refuse and sewage that
the mollusks have been greatly depleted; but in the streams of clear,
cool water, draining the mountain regions of France, Germany, Austria,
and also in the rivers of Norway, Sweden, Russia, etc., the fisheries
are not unimportant.

The most celebrated of the pearl fisheries in France are those of the
Vologne, a small river in the extreme eastern part of the country, in
the department of Vosges. Its sources are in Lake Longmere in the Vosges
mountains on the Alsace frontier, and it flows into the Moselle at
Jarmenil, between Remiremont and Épinal. While the pearl-mussel occurs
to some extent in nearly the whole length of this river, and, indeed, is
to be met with in the wild brooks and forest streams of nearly all the
mountainous parts of France, it is most abundant in the vicinity of
Bruyères, where the Vologne receives the waters of the Neuré. These
resources were described in 1845 by Ernest Puton,[202] and in 1869 by D.
A. Godron;[203] to whom—and especially to Godron—we are indebted for
much of our information.

The fisheries of the Vologne have been celebrated for nearly four
centuries. Writing in 1530, Volcyr stated: “In the river Vologne between
Arche and Bruyères, near the ancient castle of Perle, beautiful pearls
are found. In the opinion of jewelers and artists they closely resemble
the oriental.”[204] A few years later Francis Reues wrote: “There is
near the Vosges mountains in Lorraine a river fertile in pearls, yet
they are not very brilliant. The strange thing is that the quality which
they lack by nature is supplied by the aid of pigeons, which swallow
them and restore them purer than before.”[205] In a publication of 1609,
this little river is represented in the frontispiece by the figure of a
nymph bearing many pearls, while beneath is the emblem: _Vologna
margaritifera suas margaritas ostentat_.[206]

In his paper above noted, Godron recites several orders issued from 1616
to 1619 by the Duke of Lorraine, who then had jurisdiction over the
present department of Vosges, showing that a high value was attached to
these pearls and that the resources were well looked after. Writing in
1699, Dr. Martin Lister alluded to the many pearls taken from the rivers
about Lorraine and Sedan. A Paris merchant showed him a fresh-water
pearl of 23 grains, valued at £400, and assured him that he had seen
some weighing 60 grains each.[207]

In 1779 Durival gave an extensive account[208] of the Vologne fishery.
He records that for sixty years pearls had been abundant, but at the
time he wrote they were very scarce.

Puton states that, in 1806, when taking the baths at Plombières in the
Vosges, Empress Josephine formed a great liking for the Vologne pearls,
and at her request some of the mussels were sent to stock the ponds at
Malmaison. It does not appear that any favorable result followed this
transplanting.

Owing to the extensive fisheries, the mussels became so scarce that in
1826, when the Duchesse d’Angoulême was visiting in the Vosges, it was
impossible to secure enough pearls to form a bracelet for her. This
scarcity has continued up to the present time; and yet in the aggregate
many pearls have been secured, so that there are few prominent families
in the neighborhood who do not possess some of them. They are especially
prized as bridal presents to Vosges maidens.

While the Vologne pearls are of good form and of much beauty, they do
not equal oriental pearls in luster. The color is commonly milky white,
but some of them have a pink, yellow, red, or greenish tint. In size
they rarely exceed 4 grains. The Nancy museum of natural history
possesses one which weighs 5¼ grains and measures 6½ mm. in diameter.

In western France, according to Bonnemere,[209] the pearl-mussel is
widely diffused, and in the aggregate many pearls are secured therefrom.
They are somewhat numerous in the river Ille near its union with the
Vilaine at Rennes; though small, these are commonly of good color and
luster. In the department of Morbihan and that of Finistère, many pearls
have been secured, especially in the Steir, the Odet, and in the
Stang-Alla near Quimper. Small pearls, frequently of some value, are
found in the Menech near the town of Lesneven, a few miles northeast of
Brest, the great naval port of France.

The _Unio sinuatus_ (_pictorum_), the _mulette_ of the artists, which
has a shorter and smaller shell than the pearl-mussel, has also yielded
many small pearls of good quality, as well as shells for manufacturing
purposes. This species has been regularly exploited in the Adour, in the
Charente, in the Gironde and its tributaries—the Garonne and the
Dordogne and their affluents, and in some other streams in western
France.

There is a pearl fishery in the Charente River near the western coast of
France, and likewise in the Seugne, a small tributary entering it from
the south. The mussel is known locally under the name of _palourde_. In
an account of this fishery,[210] Daniel Bellet states that in the
Seugne, where the water is shallow and clear, the mussel is secured by
entering the pointed end of a wooden staff or stick between the valves
of the open shell as the mollusk lies feeding on the bottom; as the
shell is immediately closed tightly upon the intruding stick, it is
easily removed from the water.

In the deeper waters of the Charente, the fishery is prosecuted on a
larger scale. Until recently, the _palourdes_ were caught by means of a
dredge towed by a small boat, which was raised from time to time and the
catch removed. Ten or fifteen years ago the scaphander or diving
apparatus was introduced, requiring seven men for its operation, and by
its use large catches have been made. The mussels are taken to the bank
and there boiled for a time to cause the shells to open, so that the
contents may be easily removed.

The shells are examined one by one to find any pearls that may adhere
thereto, and then the flesh of the mollusk is crushed between the
fingers to locate pearls contained in the mass; this is done largely by
children, working under competent supervision. Many pearls of fairly
good size and luster are obtained. The flesh of this mollusk is edible
and well-liked in southwestern France; and the shells are also of value
in the manufacture of buttons and similar objects.

In Germany the pearl fisheries are most important in streams of the
southern districts, in Bavaria, Saxony, and Silesia. The pearl-mussel in
these waters is not so abundant as formerly; yet, owing to the care
which has been given to these resources, it is probably as numerous here
as in any other part of the continent. The mussel rarely occurs singly,
generally in small beds or banks contiguous to each other, and in some
favorable regions these are extensive.

The pearl fisheries of Bavaria have been prominent since the sixteenth
century. They exist principally in the districts of Upper Franconia
(_Oberfranken_) and Upper Palatinate (_Oberpfalz_), the several
tributaries of the Danube between Ratisbon and Passau, and in those
tributaries of the Main and the Saale which rise in the Bavarian
mountains, such as the Oelsnitz, the Lamnitz, Schwesnitz, Grünebach,
Vils, and the Perlbach; also in the district of Lower Bavaria, where in
nine districts alone there are one hundred pearl-bearing streams and
lakes, of which the most important are the Regen, the Isar, and the
Ilz.[211]

Early in the sixteenth century, the river Ilz had the reputation of
yielding the choicest pearls in Lower Bavaria. The right to them was
reserved to the bishop of Passau, and a decree was made in 1579 that
persons convicted of poaching on these reserves should be hanged.[212]
Since that time there have been few decades in which the gems have not
been found in the woodland brooks and mountain streams that flow through
the ravines and past quaint, interesting castles of the wonderful
Bavarian highlands. Most of the prominent families in this beautiful
region have collections of native pearls, and there is still some trade
in them in picturesque Passau, at the junction of the Danube, the Ilz
and the Inn.

Tavernier wrote about 1670: “As for the pearls of Scotland, and those
which are found in the rivers of Bavaria, although necklaces are made of
them which are worth up to 1000 _écus_ (£225) and beyond, they cannot
enter into comparison with those of the East and West Indies.”[213]

The official returns for the Bavarian fisheries, dating from the latter
part of the sixteenth century, were examined by Von Hessling in 1858. He
noted many gaps in the statements of the yearly returns, partly on
account of the loss of the records and partly because the pearls were
delivered directly into the hands of the princes. The results of the
first fisheries are recorded in the district of Hals for the years
1581–99, in Viechtach for 1581–83 and 1590–93, and in Weissenstadt and
Zwiesel for 1583. The range of the fisheries was enlarged through the
discovery of new areas during the first half of the seventeenth century;
but this was offset by the bad seasons and by disturbed conditions
during the Thirty Years’ War. From 1650 to 1783 the pearls in the forest
lands of the Palatinate were exploited regularly and uninterruptedly,
with the exception of the district of Wetterfeld and that of Neunburg
vor dem Wald, where they were prosecuted for a few years only. From 1783
to 1814, they were almost entirely neglected, and the take was confined
to a few streams in Upper Palatinate and in the Bavarian forests. In the
former episcopal principality of Passau, where, according to general
accounts, the waters were rich in pearls, the records were scanty
previous to 1786; this was probably owing to the fact that the head
gamekeeper was obliged to transmit the catch of pearls directly to the
prince-bishop. The records for the fisheries in the districts of Rehau
and Kulmbach began with the year 1733.

From these fragmentary returns—making no estimate for the years for
which there were no figures available—Von Hessling found that from 1600
to 1857 there were taken 15,326 pearls of the first class, which were
clear white in color and of good luster; 27,662 pearls of the second
class, which were somewhat deficient in luster, and 251,778 pearls of
the third or poorest class, or “_Sandperlen_,” which, though of poor
quality, had sufficient whiteness and luster to be used as ornaments.
Had the records been complete, these figures would probably have been at
least fifty per cent. greater, or a total of about 445,000 pearls in the
257 years. In the last forty-three years of this period, for which the
records are fairly complete, the annual average was 208 pearls of the
first, 395 of the second, and 3091 of the third class, a total each year
of 3694 pearls of all grades. This was divided among the districts as
follows:

ANNUAL AVERAGE

District First class Second class Third class Total
Upper Franconia 13 34 52 99
Upper Palatinate 38 77 207 322
Lower Bavaria 157 284 2832 3273
——— ——— ———— ————
Total 208 395 3091 3694

Probably the most interesting of the pearl fisheries in Germany are
those prosecuted in the extreme southwestern part of the kingdom of
Saxony, in the picturesque region known as Vogtland. This is not on
account of their extent, for the output rarely exceeds $2000 in value in
any season; but because for nearly three hundred years they have been
conducted with the utmost care and regard for the preservation of the
resources. Indeed, a record exists of practically every pearl obtained
for nearly two centuries.

The waters in which the Saxon Vogtland fisheries are prosecuted are the
Elster River, from the health resort of that name to a short distance
below Elsterberg; its tributaries, the Mülhaüser, Freiberger, and
Marieneyer brooks; the Hartmannsgrüner and the Triebel brooks, the
Trieb, the Meschelsgrüner, the Teil, and Loch brooks, and twenty-five or
more small ponds.

For most of the data relative to these fisheries, we are indebted
to J. G. Jahn’s “Die Perlenfischerei im Voigtlande,” Oelsnitz,
1854; to Hinrich Nitsche’s “Süsswasserperlen, Internationale
Fischerei-Ausstellung zu Berlin,” 1880, and to O. Wohlberedt’s
“Nachtrag zur Molluskenfauna des Königreiches Sachsen,”
“Nachrichtsblatt der deutschen Malakozoologischen Gesellschaft,”
Frankfurt-am-Main, 1899, pp. 97–104.

In the year 1621, the electoral prince, Johann Georg I, reserved the
pearl fishery of the Vogtland in Saxony as a royal privilege, and
appointed Moritz Schmerler as superintendent and fisherman. From that
time until the present, this fishery has remained a royal prerogative;
and, remarkable to state, except at the close of the seventeenth century
when the father-in-law of a Schmerler enjoyed the privilege, all the
superintendents of the fishery—twenty-four persons in number—have been
direct descendants of the second pearler, Abraham Schmerler, who, in
1643, succeeded his brother Moritz. The present superintendent Julius
Schmerler has been in charge since 1889.

This fishery is conducted in accordance with regulations of the chief
inspector of forests for the district of Auerbach. The present
regulations date from June 15, 1827. In compliance therewith an
inspection is made of the waters each spring to remove all obstructions
and debris that would injure the resources; and, if necessary, entire
beds of mussels are removed from one locality to another which appears
more favorable. No mussels are opened at that time, for the real search
for pearls does not begin until the season is far advanced and the
fishermen can wade up to the waist in the water without discomfort.

Dr. Nitsche states that the whole pearling district is not searched over
every year, but is divided into 313 sections, each one constituting a
day’s work for three fishermen, and rarely are more than twenty or
thirty of these fished in any one year. Thus each section or district is
permitted to rest and recuperate for ten or fifteen years before it is
again invaded. Every mussel is opened carefully by hand, with the aid of
a peculiarly constructed iron instrument. By inserting the edge of this
between the nibs of the shell and turning it at right angles, the valves
are opened sufficiently to determine whether a pearl is contained
therein. If none is observed, the instrument is released and the mussel
returned uninjured to the water; but if a pearl is found within, the
shell is forced open and the find removed. In case small pearls are
observed which give promise of growing larger in time, they are not
removed, but the year is marked upon the shell with the opening
implement and the mussel returned to the water. It often happens that
good pearls are later removed from shells marked in this manner.

Complete records exist of the yield of this fishery during each year
since 1719, when the Vogtland passed to the electorate of Saxony. The
following is a summary of these records arranged in series of twenty
years each.

Years Half
Clear clear Sand Damaged Average
pearls pearls pearls pearls Total per year
No. No. No. No. No. No.

1720–1739 1,809 727 1,201 552 4,289 214

1740–1759 1,412 578 484 281 2,755 138

1760–1779 1,042 272 427 219 1,960 98

1780–1799 1,261 243 357 179 2,040 102

1800–1819 1,603 261 325 203 2,392 120

1820–1839 1,659 340 326 326 2,651 133

1840–1859 1,884 610 387 505 3,386 169

1860–1879 1,618 682 450 514 3,264 163

1880–1899 471 394 86 373 1,324 66

1900–1905 79 161 22 86 348 58

—————— ————— ————— ————— —————— ———

Total in
186 years 12,838 4,268 4,065 3,238 24,409

Average per
year 69 23 22 17 131

In recent years the development of manufacturing industries in Saxony
and the resultant pollution of the water has greatly reduced the
abundance of the mollusks and consequently the output has been much
restricted. The average annual yield in the twenty years ending in 1879
was 163 pearls; in the twenty years ending in 1899 it was 66 pearls, and
in the six years ending in 1905 the annual average was 58 pearls. Owing
to high water, there was no fishing in 1888; and with a view to
permitting the resources to recuperate, the fishery was suspended from
1896 to 1899, inclusive. Omitting these five years, the average yield
during each season in the two decades ending 1899 was 88 pearls.

At the end of each season, the pearls secured are turned over to the
director of forestry for the district of Auerbach; by him they were
formerly sent to the royal cabinet of natural history, or to the royal
collection at Dresden, but since 1830 they have been sent to the royal
minister of finance, by whom they are sold each year. The total proceeds
from these sales now amount to about 55,000 marks.

In former times, according to Dr. Nitsche, it was customary to use these
pearls in making royal ornaments. This was the origin of the famous
Elster necklace, consisting of 177 pearls, now in the art collection in
the Grüne Gewölbe in the palace at Dresden. Another assortment in that
collection consists of nine choice, well-matched pearls, weighing 140
grains. For a necklace of Saxon pearls, the property of a duchess of
Sachsen-Zeitz, the sum of 40,000 thalers ($28,400) is said to have been
refused.

In Prussian Silesia the pearl-mussel is found in the upper tributaries
of the Oder, especially in Bober River from Löwenberg to the sources
among the foot-hills of the beautiful Riesengebirge, in the Lusatian
Neisse to Görlitz, the Queiss above Marklissa, and in the Juppel as far
as Weidenau. The Queiss has been famous for its pearls since the
sixteenth century, and even yet specimens of great beauty are obtained
therefrom. As long ago as 1690, Ledel complained of the diminution of
the number of mollusks owing to their wilful destruction by children;
and in 1729 the government issued a rescript in Upper Lusatia
(_Oberlausitz_) recommending the care of the young mollusks.[214]

Pearls are also found in the White Main a short distance from its
source, in the head waters of the Saale, and in numerous other
mountain-draining streams of middle Germany. Indeed, references could be
made to the discovery of pearls in nearly every stream of Germany at
some time during the last three or four centuries.

The records of pearl fisheries in the province of Hanover were traced by
Von Hessling as far back as the sixteenth century, when they were
prosecuted in the Aller, Ovia or Om, Lua or Low, and in the Seva in the
district of Lüneburg. During the reign of Christian Ludwig (1641–65) and
in that of George William (1666–1705), pearl fishing was carried on by
the state, and old records of the former district of Bodenteich note the
customs and practices of that period and of earlier times, and the
implements employed. In 1706, for instance, 265 clear and 292 imperfect
pearls were taken by three official fishermen from the Gerdauerbach.
Gradually, however, owing to indifferent management, the brooks yielded
less and less; the government seems to have entirely abandoned
supervision of them, so that, according to Taube’s “Communication,”[215]
slight results were obtained in 1766; indeed, only a few pearls could be
shown as curiosities.[216]

Regarding the condition of the Hanoverian pearl-brooks, especially of
those in the vicinity of Uelzen, Möbius wrote: “Uelzen lies at the
confluence of eleven small rivulets, three of which, the Wipperau, the
Gerdau and the Barnbeck, contain pearl-mussels. Fishing has been pursued
here for centuries, and there exists an old regulation of the sixteenth
century in regard to the pearl fisheries in the Ilmenau. Even at the
present day, hundreds of pearls are found here which command a good
price when they are bright and of good form. These either have a silvery
sheen or they are of a reddish color. The season for fishing is during
the months of July and August. The pearls are usually found in deformed
shells. Their shape varies greatly; most of them are flat on one side.
Naturally those which are spherical are the best, but the pear shapes
are highly prized.” Möbius frequently failed to find one pearl in a
hundred shells, but at other times he came across six or eight in this
quantity. Most of the mussels are found in the deepest places,
especially near the banks of the streams. One end of the shell usually
projects out of the sand. The fisherman is represented as feeling about
the bottom with his feet, and when he finds a shell, he seizes it
between his toes, picks it out, and then places it in the basket
suspended from his neck.[217]

In Baden and in Hesse are small pearl fisheries. In 1760, Elector
Maximilian III sent to Mannheim, then in the Palatinate, eight hundred
living pearl-mussels from the Bavarian forests, and again in 1769, he
sent four hundred mussels from Deggendorf on the Danube, so that they
might be established in the Palatinate. The mussels were placed in the
Steinbach not far from Heidelberg, where they thrived so well that
fishing was instituted in 1783. Soon, however, most of the mussels
became buried in the sand, and the remainder were transplanted into a
quieter portion of the Steinbach, between Kreutzsteinach and Schönau,
about five miles northeast of Heidelberg. Here they seem to have been
forgotten, and were left undisturbed until, about 1820, a fine pearl
valued at two louis d’or was found near Schönau. This discovery soon led
to such reckless exploitation that the government reserved the fishery
as a state monopoly. The mussels were examined and sorted, and a portion
of the brook was specially prepared for their reception. However, the
cost of supervision was greater than the proceeds of the fishery, and
the business was rented to private parties for a very small amount. This
was paid as late as 1840 by the Natural History Society of Mannheim, the
annual rate then being ten florins.

An effort was made nearly two hundred years ago to develop the pearl
fisheries in Hesse. In 1717, Landgrave Prince William requested his
cousin, Duke Moritz of Saxony, to send a pearl fisherman “to examine
some streams in his territory where mussels have been found and to
determine whether they are fitted for pearl fishing and whether
fisheries can be established.”[218] In the following year, a member of
the famous Schmerler family from the Saxon fisheries was sent to Cassel,
but with what result is unknown.

When the pearling excitement developed at Schönau about 1820, Landrath
Welker, of Hirschhorn on the Neckar, requested the grand duke of Hesse
to place him in charge of the fishery, and when the proposition was
declined, he formed a small company for pearl-culture. In 1828 his
company had 558 mussels, 88 of which showed pearl formations; in 1833,
out of 651, 98 contained such objects, and in 1851, 117 mussels were
found with pearl formations out of 867 examined.[219] Owing to the
policy of the company in selling the pearls only among the members
thereof, the profits were altogether insufficient to cover the expenses,
and gradually the fishery dwindled down until it was prosecuted only as
a pastime.

Pearls are found in the province of Schleswig-Holstein, which formerly
belonged to Denmark, but since 1866 has been a part of the kingdom of
Prussia. Möbius relates that the Bavarian soldiers in 1864 collected
large quantities of pearls from the streams of this province and sold
many of them to jewelers in Hamburg.[220] Most of them were of good form
and luster; milky white was the prevailing tint, but some were pink and
others were rose-tinted.

In Austria, pearl fisheries are most important in the province of
Bohemia, where they are prosecuted in the headwaters of the Moldau from
Krumau, a few miles above Budweis, to below Turenberg, and to a much
less extent in its tributary, the Wottawa, on the northeastern slopes of
the Böhmer Wald or Bohemian Forest mountains. From very early times the
right of fishery belonged to those domains and estates through which the
streams flow, as for example, the cloister of Hohenfurth, the domain of
Rosenberg, of Krumau, etc. The Schwarzenberg family formerly drew a
considerable revenue therefrom. Over a hundred years ago the fishery was
actively prosecuted by Count Adolph Schwarzenberg, who exhibited at the
Bohemian Exposition, held in Prague in 1791, an interesting collection
of shells, apparatus employed in the fishery, and many beautiful pearls
obtained from his domains. The fisheries of the Wottawa were noted in
1560 by the Swiss naturalist Konrad von Gesner,[221] and again in 1582
by the district treasurer, Wolf Huber von Purgstall. In 1679, Balbinus
referred to the excellent qualities of the pearls, estimating the value
of many of them at twenty, thirty, and even one hundred golden florins
each. He described the methods by which they were taken, and also
complained of the destruction of the reefs by depredations of
poachers.[222]

The Wottawa or Otawa River has long had linked with its name the epithet
“the gold- and pearl-bearing brook.” Formerly, along its shores gold
washing was more or less carried on, as well as the fresh-water
pearl-mussel industry. At the present time, every third or fourth year,
these mussels are gathered, by means of small, fine-woven nets, from the
bed of the river, and a goodly number of pearls are collected.

The reefs in the Moldau from Hohenfurth to Krumau were almost entirely
ruined in 1620 by the troops who were cantoned there when the Bohemian
Protestants were overthrown near the beginning of the Thirty Years’ War,
and they never regained the reputation they formerly enjoyed. According
to the Vienna “Handels- und Börsenzeitung,” the output of the pearls
fifty years ago in the upper Moldau, in the Wottawa, and in the
Chrudimka—a tributary of the Elbe—reached in some years the sum of one
million florins in value, and as much as eighty and sometimes even one
hundred and twenty florins were paid for an individual specimen.[223]
These pearls closely resemble those from Passau in Bavaria, and some
approach the oriental gems in luster.

In the archduchy of Austria, pearls occur in several of the tributaries
of the “beautiful blue Danube.” They are especially important in streams
within the former district of Schärding, such as the Ludhammerbach, the
Ranzenbergerbach, the Glatzbachenbach, the Brambach, the
Schwarzbergerbach, the Mosenbach, and the Hollenbach; those in the
former district of Waizkirchen, including the Pirningerbach, the
Kesselbach, and many of their tributary brooks, and the Michel, the
Taglinsbach, the Fixelbach, and the Haarbach, in the domain of
Marbach.[224] Fishing in the Pirningerbach and the Kesselbach was
prosperous about 1765, and Empress Maria Theresa received a beautiful
necklace and bracelets of the pearls therefrom. In the district of
Marbach, the fishing was prosecuted as long ago as 1685 for the account
of the archbishop of Passau.

In Hungary from time immemorial, the native pearls have been popular
with the Magyar women, and very many yet exist in the old Hungarian
jewelry worn with the national costume. A century ago there was scarcely
a family of local prominence which did not possess a necklace of pearls,
although these were frequently not of choice quality or of considerable
size. With a falling off in the output of the native streams there has
been a great increase in the quantity of choice oriental pearls
purchased by the wealthy families, and some of the most costly necklaces
in Europe are now owned here.

In the kingdom of Denmark no pearl fisheries are now prosecuted, but
three centuries ago the gems were taken in the Kolding Fjord in the
province of Veile, Jutland. The great Holberg, who ranks first in Danish
literature, wrote that the governor of the castle at Kolding employed as
a pearl fisherman a Greenlander who had come to Denmark in 1605 or 1606,
and who “had given the governor to understand that in his native land he
was accustomed to fish for pearls.” Being required to work continuously,
both winter and summer, he fell ill and died, and as no one else wished
to pursue the occupation, the fishery ceased.[225]

In many of the Norwegian brooks, pearl fishing has been carried on for
two or three centuries, and often with satisfactory results. It appears
from ordinances dated November 10, 1691, May 14, 1707, and May 28, 1718,
that the fisheries were under special supervision as a royal prerogative
of the queen of Denmark.[226] Jahn notes that in 1719 and in 1722, Saxon
pearl fishermen were sent for. In 1734 Charles VI of Denmark requested
the elector of Saxony to send one of the pearl fishermen of Vogtland to
examine the brooks of Norway in reference to the pearl resources, and to
determine the practicability of establishing fisheries there. In
response to this request, C. H. Schmerler was sent to Copenhagen and
thence to Christiania, where he began an investigation of the Norwegian
waters, the governor himself attending at the beginning of the work. So
great was the estimation of its importance, that Schmerler was soon
afterward received in audience by the king and queen of united Denmark
and Norway at Frederiksborg palace near Copenhagen, and was awarded a
gift of one hundred ducats and a life-pension.[227]

In 1751, according to Pontoppidan, Bishop of Bergen, the Norwegian pearl
fisheries were placed under the jurisdiction of the diocese of
Christiansand. Among the principal pearling regions at that time were
the Gon, Närim and Quasim rivers in the Stavanger district or amt; the
Undol, Rosseland and other brooks in the Lister and Mandal province; and
several streams in the district of Nadenäs.[228]

The returns from the Norwegian fisheries gradually decreased. After 1768
the rights were leased, and the revenue therefrom was paid into the
royal treasury. Owing to small returns, this source of revenue received
less and less attention, and about a century ago it was altogether
neglected, although from time to time choice finds were made. Due to
unusually low water in 1841, a number of valuable pearls were found near
Jedderen in the province of Christiansand, some selling as high as $300
each; several of these were shown at the London Industrial Exhibition by
the diocese of Christiania.

The pearl fisheries of Sweden were noted, nearly four centuries ago, by
Olaus Magnus, Archbishop of Upsala.[229] The gems were sought for by
expert fishermen in the interior districts, and were brought in large
quantities to the coasts for sale, the women and girls of all classes,
rich and poor, using them extensively in personal decoration.

The celebrated Linnæus left a detailed account of the method by which
mussels were caught in Sweden nearly two centuries ago. He wrote: “In
the summer season, if the water is shallow, the fishermen wade in the
stream and gather the mussels with their hands. Should the water be
deeper, they dive for the mussels and place such as they find in a
vessel made of birch bark, which they carry with them. Sunny days are
selected, because then they can see deeper into the water. But, should
this not suffice, they traverse the river on rafts which are painted
white beneath so that the bed of the stream may be illumined by the
reflected light. The men lie prone on the rafts and look down into the
depths so that they may immediately seize with wooden tongs the mussels
which they discover. Or else, hanging by their hands to the rafts, they
seize them in the water with their toes. If the water is too deep even
for this, they dive and feel around on the bottom with their hands until
it becomes necessary to rise again to the surface in order to breathe.
However, out of a hundred mussels, scarcely one contains a good pearl;
but sometimes as many as twenty pearls of the size of a grain of sand
are found in one shell. Many of the larger pearls are reddish or dark,
but occasionally a beautiful white pearl is hidden under such a
covering; although, naturally, it is rare that this is altogether
perfect. It has been noted that mussels seven years old contain pearls;
and in each of two mussels eighteen years old, a pearl was found
attached to the shell.”[230]

The list of streams in Sweden from which pearls were taken, as noted by
Olaf Maimer, J. Fischerstein, and Gissler[231] a century and a half ago,
seems to cover nearly all the rivers and brooks which flow from the
mountains of this beautiful country.

In Russia the love for the pearl has been almost as great as in Persia
and India. During the Middle Ages, pearls were worn upon the clothes of
nearly all well-to-do Russians. The great head-dresses of the women were
ornamented with them; and they were used in decorating the stoles,
vestments, crosses, and the priceless relics in the churches.

The pearl-mussel is found in very many of the Russian streams. It occurs
throughout Archangel, in most of the rivers which flow into the White
Sea, into Lake Ladoga, Lake Onega, and the Baltic Sea; and likewise in
the Volga watershed. Von Hessling states that east of the Volga its
southern boundary extends to Lat. 56°, while on the west it extends
further southward, so that in the region of the Dnieper it reaches Lat.
51°. The extreme southern limit is near the mouth of the Don, about 47°
north latitude.[232]

In northern Russia pearls are secured in the provinces of Livonia.
Esthonia, and Olonetz, and in the grand duchy of Finland, where they
have been sought after for three centuries or more. Most of them are
bluish gray in color and they attain a maximum weight of about twelve
grains. Although not equaling the oriental gems, these pearls are of
good quality and are highly esteemed, not only by the peasants but by
the nobility and by the royal family of Russia. For reference to most of
the historical data relative to the fishery in Livonia, we are indebted
to an account written by H. Kawall.[233]

So long ago as 1612, Dionysius Fabricius compared the pearls of Livonia
with those of India. Said he: “Nor should I omit to mention that there
are rivers in Livonia wherein large pearls are produced in shells; and I
myself have seen some as large as the oriental, especially when they are
well grown. But because the peasants of this region are too ignorant to
determine with certainty when they mature, they are unable to collect
them properly, and therefore the pearls have become rarer.”[234]

According to Mylius,[235] in the seventeenth century, when Livonia
belonged to Sweden, the pearl resources received attention from the
government. Charles IX of Sweden decreed October 22, 1694, that the
pearls therefrom should not be exported but should be sold to officers
of the crown at a definite price. In 1700, an inspector of the fishery
in Livonia, whose name was Krey, reported that the peasants collected
pearls secretly from the small rivers and brooks, and forwarded them to
Moscow for sale. As the peasants objected to selling them to the king’s
commissioners at the prices fixed, the fishery soon dwindled in extent.
However, on the annexation of Livonia to Russia in 1712, and the removal
of these restrictions, it revived and became of local importance during
the last years of the reign of Peter the Great.

In 1742 the Livonian fishery was reorganized at the suggestion of a
Swede named Hedenberg. Furnished by the government with funds and an
escort, he began an exploration of the pearl-bearing waters, commencing
with Lake Kolk, where he secured many pearls of value, some of which
were presented to Empress Elizabeth.[236]

The fishery then came into great favor. To the nobility of Livonia, in
whose domains the brooks were situated, the crown accorded sixty rubles
for each half ounce of choice pearls secured, and for every half ounce
of the second class, thirty rubles; but the nobles were obliged to
renounce their rights to the fisheries and to permit the lakes and
brooks to be guarded by imperial soldiers. Owing to the very great
destruction of mussels which yielded no pearls, a reward was offered to
any one who would discover a method of determining from external
characteristics those individual shells which contain gems of value.

In 1746, when the Empress Elizabeth passed the summer in Livonia, large
quantities of pearls from the neighboring brooks were presented to her.
But, owing to the cost of supervision, the expenditures soon exceeded
the revenues and the government abandoned the guard and dismissed the
fishermen. Little by little the search decreased, and by 1774 relatively
few pearls were found.[237]

According to Hupel, the Schwarzbach River, near Werro, was celebrated
for its pearls, which were noted for their size and beauty; one of the
tributaries of this river is named Perlenbach (Pearl Brook). The Ammat
and Tirse streams, and forty other brooks and lakes also yielded them.
Pearls of slight value were likewise produced in the Palze and the
Rause, near Palzmar; the Paddez, a tributary of the Evest which empties
into the Düna, and the Voidau and the Petribach, each of which flows
into the Schwarzbach. Near the Tirse was a very old road house,
patronized by the peasants, which from time immemorial had borne the
name Pehrlu-kroghs (Pearl Tavern).

Formerly some of the brooks of Esthonia on the Gulf of Finland, and
principally those near Kolk and the adjacent lakes, furnished beautiful
pearls. From these waters came the beautiful necklace which is yet an
heirloom in the Kolk family. The choicest of these weighed from five to
ten grains, and the color was grayish blue. The Emperor Alexander I is
said to have received a present of pearls collected in the vicinity of
Tammerfors, in the government of Tavastehus, in the grand duchy of
Finland. The development of manufacturing in that region, however, has
destroyed most of the mussels.

Von Hessling notes that in the province of Olonetz, pearls are found in
the Poventshanka, in the Ostjor, and in the Kums, where they are secured
by the neighboring peasants who sometimes make valuable finds.[238] When
the brooks dry up, the mussels are easily secured; old inhabitants note
that on one occasion of this kind many superb pearls were found in the
Poventshanka, and a necklace of them was presented to the Empress
Catherine Alexievna. These pearls rarely leave the province in which
they are collected, as the inhabitants are fond of using them for
personal decoration. Young girls attend to the fishing, and workmen
pierce them for about two copecks each. Choice ones sell for thirty to
one hundred rubles apiece.

In the government of Archangel pearls have been collected for centuries
from the streams flowing into the White Sea and the Arctic Ocean. An
extended account of the fisheries of this region was given by Von
Middendorff.[239] He states that the _Unio margaritifera_ inhabits all
the rivers in which the descent is not too rapid, and especially in the
Tjura, the Tuloma, the Kovda, Kereda, the Kanda, etc. The fisheries have
been conducted exclusively by the shore Laplanders; but they have been
neglected in recent years owing to the small returns. Von Hessling notes
that the pearls are dull in color; in the opinion of the fishermen this
is caused by the mysterious influence of the copper money which they
carry with them. The Tuloma was formerly a productive river; its pearls
were sold in Kola, whence they were carried to Archangel, 335 miles
distant, where they were pierced by expert workmen. The Tjura also
yielded many pearls; but since a Laplander was drowned while fishing for
them, a legend has spread that the spirit of the river guards the
pearls, and the natives hesitate about seeking them.

Probably the occurrence of so many in the home streams had much to do
with developing in Russia that great love for the pearl which has made
it the national ornament, all classes finding pleasure in its
possession. While the superb gems treasured by the nobility are mostly
from oriental seas, a considerable percentage of those worn by the
peasantry are from the native waters. An interesting account of this
fondness among a certain class of Russian women—the Jewesses of Little
Russia—was given sixty years ago by the German traveler Kohl.

In Alexandria, a small city in the government of Kherson in South
Russia, a Jew kept a café, and his charming daughter served us with
coffee. We paid her compliments on her beautiful eyes and teeth. But
she seemed to be much less vain of these natural ornaments than of
the acquired ones in the magnificent glittering pearl-cap which she
wore upon her head. For all the women through South and Little
Russia even as far as Galicia wear a certain stiff, baggy cap which
is very disfiguring, and is covered all over with a great number of
pearls, upon a foundation of black velvet. It is called a “mushka.”
This cap, with very unimportant modifications, has almost always the
same form; the only difference is that, in the case of the wealthy,
the pearls are larger, and sometimes a number of small pearls and
precious stones are suspended here and there, set in the same way as
the earrings of our ladies. It is common for them to wear half their
fortune on their heads in this way. For these caps generally cost
from five hundred to one thousand roubles, and many are worth five
or six thousand and even more; they wear them every day, holidays as
well as ordinary days, and strut around the kitchens and cellars
with their “mushka.” They spend their last penny in order to secure
such a pearl-cap, and even when they are clad in rags their head is
covered with pearls. In order to furnish the requisite material for
this wide-spread fashion, the commerce in pearls of Odessa, Taganrog
and some other places in southern Russia is not unimportant. There
may live in the region where the pearl-caps of which I speak are
worn at least 2,000,000 Jewesses. Let us estimate that among them
there are but 300,000 adults, and that only half of these, 150,000,
wear pearl-caps (only the most indigent and the most aristocratic do
not wear the “mushka”); let us then estimate the average value of
such a cap at only five hundred roubles—these are the lowest minima
and fall far short of the real figures—and we have a total capital
of 76,000,000 roubles, which the Jewesses of this region wear upon
their heads. Naturally the annual diminution of this capital is
small, since these pearls are transmitted from the mothers to their
daughters and granddaughters. Still, if we estimate that they last
for a century, the necessary yearly contribution amounts to nearly
one million. It is, however, probable that a much larger capital is
employed in the commerce of pearls. They are, for the most part,
oriental and come by way of Turkey and Odessa or else by way of
Armenia and Tiflis. We inquired of our beautiful Jewess whether she
was not in perpetual dread on account of her pearl-cap, and how she
protected it from thieves. She answered that she wore it on her head
all day and at night placed it in a casket which rested under her
pillow. So that the whole short life of these Jewesses of the
steppes revolves around their pearl-cap as the earth does around the
sun.[240]

Several species of marine mollusks on the coasts of Europe yield pearly
formations, but none of much ornamental or commercial value. Probably
the most interesting of these are from the Pinna on the Mediterranean
coasts, and especially on the coast of Sardinia and the shores of the
Adriatic. An interesting collection of these Pinna pearls was furnished
to the writers by Alexandro Castellani of Rome.

 


IX

ISLANDS OF THE PACIFIC

SOUTH SEA ISLANDS, AUSTRALIAN COASTS, MALAY ARCHIPELAGO

 


IX
PEARL FISHERIES OF THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS


Sea-girt isles,
That, like to rich and various gems, inlay
The unadorned bosom of the deep.

MILTON.

Gathering pearl shells and pearls is the principal industry of the
semi-amphibious natives of the hundreds of palm-crowned and foam-girdled
islands of the southern Pacific, commonly known as the South Sea
Islands. Among these the most prominent for pearl fishing are the
Tuamotu Islands or Low Archipelago, the Society Islands, the Marquesas,
the Fiji Islands, Penrhyn or Tongareva, and New Caledonia. These are
under the protection of the French government, except Fiji and Penrhyn,
which belong to Great Britain.

Almost ever since the South Sea Islands have been known to civilization
they have contributed pearls; and the fishery has been one of the
principal industries, not only for the natives, but also for the not
inconsiderable number of sailors who, preferring the lotus on shore to
the salt pork and monotony of ship life, have yielded to the insular
attractions and formed domestic ties. The industry has been especially
extensive during the last seventy years, when there has been a
profitable market for the shells. Most of the natives—men, women, and
children—follow it for a living. Domestic duties rest very lightly upon
the women, and many of these, and even young girls, find employment in
diving, in which at moderate depths these dusky mermaids are nearly, if
not quite as expert as the men and boys.

Tahiti, the largest of the eleven Society Islands, is the center of the
pearling industry of French Oceanica. It is situated in about Lat. 17°
S. and Long. 150° W., and has an area of approximately 410 square miles
and a population of 11,000, nearly one half of whom live in Papeiti, the
principal town. This is one of the most agreeable of the “Summer Isles
of Eden,” Nature furnishing food in abundance, and climate and social
customs requiring little in the way of dress and habitation.
Notwithstanding its importance as the headquarters of the pearling
industry, few pearl-oysters are caught at Tahiti, most of them coming
from the archipelagoes of Tuamotu, Gambier, and occasionally Tubai.

The Tuamotu Archipelago is the scene of the principal pearl fisheries of
the South Seas; and from the local importance of this industry the group
is sometimes called the Pearl Islands. These coral-formed islands are
strung out for a distance of 900 miles in a northwest and southeast
direction, and extend from Lat. 14° to 23° S. and from Long. 136° to
149° W. They number about seventy-eight, many of them made up of small
atolls only a few feet above the surface of the ocean, and with an
aggregate area of about 360 square miles. The total population is
approximately 6000, with many visitors from Tahiti and other neighboring
islands during the pearling season. The principal products are pearl
shell and pearls, copra, and cocoanut oil; and nearly one half of the
islands yield nothing but shell and pearls. The chief port is Fakarava
on an island of the same name, and the trade is almost entirely with
Tahiti.

As the Tuamotus are of coral formation, they produce little vegetable
growth, and the people seem often on the brink of starvation, forming a
striking contrast with those of the neighboring Society Islands. Drawing
their subsistence entirely from the sea, except for the native cocoanuts
and breadfruit, these people have, at times, been in great straits for
food, and it was doubtless severe hunger that drove them to the acts of
cannibalism with which they have been charged. And the sea which
supplies them with food has also visited them with great destruction. As
recently as January, 1903, a great storm swept over this group, drowning
over 500 of the inhabitants, and destroying a very considerable portion
of the pearling fleet and other property.

The pearl-oyster reefs of the Tuamotu Archipelago are very extensive,
only eight or ten of the islands failing to contribute to the supply.
They occur in the protected lagoons of the atolls, where the bottom is
well covered with coral growth, with numerous elevations and depressions
of various sizes; and it is about the bases and in the recesses of these
coral growths that the best shells are usually found. Most of them are
of the black-edged variety of _Margaritifera margaritifera_, which here
attains a great size, reaching a diameter of twelve inches in extreme
cases.

While pearl-oysters are found about nearly all of the Tuamotu Islands,
the reefs are richest at Hikueru or Melville Island. When that lagoon is
open it is the scene of the greatest operations, and it is credited with
nearly one half of the total product of the archipelago. At the opening
of the season, this is the resort of fishermen from all over the group,
even from a distance of five hundred miles, and thousands of natives
camp in temporary leaf-thatched huts among the cocoanut-palms on the
beach, those from the different islands congregating in isolated
settlements. As many as five thousand persons are sometimes brought
together in this way.

The volcanic-formed Gambier Islands, with high peaks reaching, in one
instance, an altitude of over 1200 feet, present a striking contrast to
the Tuamotu atolls. This group consists of five large and several small
islands, surrounded by a coral reef of an irregular triangular figure.
The 1100 inhabitants of the Gambier Islands derive a large percentage of
their support from the pearl fishery. The patches of pearl-oysters are
located between the islands and the barrier reefs. They are numerous
about the island of Mangareva, which is well surrounded by them on the
north, east, and southeast. Oysters from the reef of Tearae, which
extends from the eastern point of Mangareva to the small island of
Aukena, a distance of two miles, are especially rich in pearls. On this
reef, where the water is from one to four fathoms in depth, the mollusks
are small, rarely exceeding five or six inches at maturity, but the
shell is very thick and coral covered; these yield many pearls. In
greater depths, the oysters attain a larger size, but they yield few
pearls.

The first white man to attempt the exploitation of the pearl resources
of the Tuamotus appears to have been Mörenhout. In a voyage to the
Oceanic Islands in 1827, he learned of the great wealth of pearl shell,
and applied to Queen Pomaré at Tahiti for permission to employ the
natives in the fishery. With an eye to business, she required a fee of
$5000 for herself before granting the desired authority.[241]
Considering this excessive, Mörenhout attempted to deal with the natives
without permission of the dusky queen, but under these adverse
conditions he found the trade unsatisfactory and soon abandoned it.

In 1830, and the years immediately succeeding, desultory pearling
voyages were made from Valparaiso, Chile, and these were followed by
expeditions from America and elsewhere. An interesting account of the
trade at that time is contained in Lucatt’s “Rovings in the Pacific from
1837 to 1849,” published in London in 1851.

The Mormon influx in 1846 resulted in a further development of the pearl
fishery; and Grouard, the local leader of that denomination, is credited
with making a fortune in the business.

From the beginning of the industry up to 1880, when control of the
islands passed to the French government, it is estimated that about
15,000 tons of pearl-oysters were secured. The extent of the fishery
during the few years preceding 1880 made such drains upon the
productiveness of the reefs that many of them gave signs of exhaustion.
With a view to adopting methods for conserving the industry, so
essential to the welfare of the natives, the French Ministry of Marine
and Colonies in 1883 inaugurated an investigation of its condition, and
of the possibilities for improvement. This was made under the immediate
direction of G. Bouchon-Brandely, whose interesting report[242] contains
much data on this subject.

As a result of these investigations and recommendations, a restricted
season for fishing was adopted, and only a portion of the reefs was
thrown open each year, a decree of the governor, published in the
“Journal Officiel” of the colony, determining the islands in which the
fishery might be prosecuted. This interdiction, known locally as
_rahui_, is for the purpose of permitting the oysters to develop, and
thus prevent the exhaustion of the reefs.

By decree of January 24, 1885, a restriction was made against taking
shells measuring less than 17 centimeters in diameter on the interior
nacre, or weighing less than 200 grams per valve. But this was repealed
in 1890, and since then there has been no restriction on the size of the
oysters that may be fished.

The pearl fishery and the isolated leper station are the principal
claims which attract the attention of the outside world to the island of
Penrhyn or Tongareva, one of the Manahiki group, in Lat. 9° S., and
Long. 158° W. This desolate atoll island consists of a ring of land a
few hundred yards in width, inclosing a lagoon nine miles long and five
miles wide, and it produces little else than pearls and pearl shell. The
white gravelly shore yields little vegetation except cocoanuts, which
share with fish in furnishing sustenance to the semi-amphibious natives.

At Penrhyn the pearl fishery is carried on in the clear, limpid waters
of the atoll where the oysters are undisturbed by storms. The shells
belong mostly to the golden-edged variety, and are of good quality, the
value in London ranging from £100 to £250 per ton. Relatively few pearls
are found, amounting in aggregate value to only about one fourth of the
value of the shells. These are the principal objects of the fishery; the
finding of pearls is incidental, but careful search is always made for
them, and some choice specimens have been secured.

On the coast of New Caledonia, pearling is of recent origin, dating as
an industrial enterprise from 1897, although previous to that time some
shells and pearls had been secured by native beach-combers. This island
is 220 miles in length and 30 in width, situated 850 miles southeast of
Australia, and about the same distance from New Zealand. It is a French
colony, and has been used by that government as a penal settlement since
1864.

In 1897, rich beds of pearl-oysters were discovered off the west coast
of this island. They are most numerous between the shore and the barrier
reefs on the west coast from Pouembout River to Gomen Bay, and
especially about the small island of Konienne at the mouth of the
Pouembout River. They are also abundant among the Loyalty Islands off
the eastern coast of New Caledonia, and especially at the island of
Lifu.[243] The shell is similar to that from Torres Straits, and the
yield of pearls is very large. Several concessions have been obtained to
exploit these beds, one of them covering 130 miles in length. The
industry is carried on by means of scaphanders, in a manner similar to
that of Torres Straits. Virtually all of the catch is sent to France.

The natives of the South Sea Islands, and particularly of Penrhyn and
the Tuamotu group, are doubtless the most expert divers in the world.
This can be readily appreciated by those who have read of Hua Manu in C.
W. Stoddard’s thrilling narrative, or have heard the story of the brown
woman who swam for forty hours in a storm with a helpless husband on her
back. Accustomed to the water from infancy, these human otters swim all
day long as readily as they would walk, go miles from shore without a
boat in search of fish which they take by means of baited hook and line,
and boldly attack a shark single-handed. Seemingly fabulous stories are
told of their descending, unaided, 150 feet or more beneath the surface,
and remaining at lesser depths for nearly three minutes, far surpassing
any modern records of the divers of India.

The water in the South Seas is wonderfully clear, enabling the fishermen
to detect small objects at considerable depths, and especially so when
using the water-telescope, similar to that employed in the Red Sea
fisheries. By immersing this to a depth of several inches and cutting
off the light from the upper end as he gazes through it down into the
waters, the fisherman can readily inspect the bottom at a depth of
fifteen fathoms, and thus locate the shells before he descends.

The diving is quite unlike that in Ceylon and Arabia. The men do not
descend on stones, but swim to the bottom. The diver is stripped to his
_paréu_ or breech-clout, his right hand is protected by a cotton mitten
or by only a wrapping of cotton cloth, and in his left hand he carries a
pearl shell to assist in directing his movements and in detaching the
oysters at the bottom. In preparing for a deep descent, he sits for
several minutes in characteristic attitude with hands hanging over
knees, and repeatedly inflates his lungs to the fullest capacity,
exhaling the air slowly through his mouth. After five or six minutes of
“taking the wind,” the diver inhales a good breath, drops over the
gunwale into the water to give him a start, and descends feet foremost.
At a distance of twelve or fifteen feet below the surface, gracefully as
an otter or a seal, he bends forward and turns head downward and, with
limbs showing dimly in frog-like motion, he swims vertically the
remaining distance to the bottom. There he assumes a horizontal position
and swims slowly just above the ground, searching critically for
suitable oysters, in this way traversing a distance possibly of fifty
feet or more. When he has secured an oyster, or his breath is
approaching exhaustion, he springs from the ground in an erect position
and rapidly swims upward, the buoyancy of his body hastening his ascent
so that he pops head and shoulders above the surface, and falls back
with laboring pulse and panting breath. In case the dive has been
unusually extended, a few drops of blood may trickle from the nose and
mouth. His find—consisting frequently of nothing and rarely of more than
one oyster—is carried in a cocoanut fiber sack suspended from the neck,
or is held in the left hand, or may be hugged beneath the left arm.

Ordinarily in actual fishing operations, the fishermen do not descend to
greater depths than fifteen fathoms, and remain from sixty to ninety
seconds. Writing in 1851, a trader who had spent several years in
collecting pearls and pearl shells among the Tuamotus stated: “I timed
several by the watch, and the longest period I knew any of them to keep
beneath the water was a minute and a quarter, and there were only two
who accomplished this feat. Rather less than a minute was the usual
duration. It is unusual for them to attempt deep diving; and let the
shells be ever so abundant, they will come up and swear there are
none.”[244]

However, in mutual contests or in special exhibitions, reports of
twenty, twenty-three, and even twenty-five fathoms are numerous, and
they have repeatedly been timed two and a half to three minutes.
Bouchon-Brandely speaks of a woman at Anaa, one of the Tuamotus, who
would go down twenty-five fathoms and remain three minutes under
water.[245] This seems very unusual, but there are numerous reports of
two and a half minutes at about seventeen or eighteen fathoms. In
October, 1899, at Hikueru Island, another of the Tuamotu group, a young
native made an exhibition dive for the officers of the United States
Fish Commission steamship _Albatross_. He reached bottom at a depth of
102 feet under the boat’s keel, and remained submerged two minutes and
forty seconds. The water was so transparent that he was clearly seen
from the surface. After he touched bottom at that great depth, he calmly
picked over the coral and shells to select a piece to bring up.[246] The
diver was ready to go down again only a few minutes after he came up.

In his work on French Oceanica, Chartier states: “There are three women
well known in the archipelago [of Tuamotu] who have no equals elsewhere;
they explore the depth at twenty-five fathoms and remain not less than
three minutes before reappearing at the surface.”[247] However, these
unusual depths and extensions of time are dangerous, and care must be
taken or serious results follow. Most of the catch is obtained in about
ten fathoms of water.

At the request of the writer, Mr. Julius D. Dreher, American Consul at
Tahiti, made inquiries among the South Sea Islands in regard to the
record of the best divers, and wrote as follows:

Mr. J. L. Young, who has lived in these islands for thirty years,
informs me that he has never seen a diver remain under water longer
than 80 seconds, and that at a depth of twelve to fifteen fathoms.
At one time he tested a man who claimed to be able to stay under for
three minutes, yet this man could hold his breath on land less than
80 seconds by the watch.

Elder Joseph F. Burton, who has spent many years as a missionary in
these islands, states that once in Hikueru, of the Tuamotu group, he
went out in a boat with the divers to time them. The best record
made was 107 seconds, but he was informed that there were better
divers on the island than those he tested. He thinks the water was
ten to twelve fathoms in depth. A native of Takaroa, named Metuaro,
told Mr. Burton that he could stay under water three minutes or
longer. When these divers come up they take a breath and immediately
put their head under water to prevent headache.

Mr. J. Lamb Doty, formerly Consul and now Vice-Consul at Tahiti, who
has spent eighteen years here, is willing to be quoted as affirming
that he once timed a diver who remained under water 2 minutes 35
seconds.

Mr. Henry B. Merwin, a leading trader with the Tuamotu Islands, is
willing to be quoted as saying that he saw a diver remain under
water 4 minutes 45 seconds by the watch. This is generally regarded,
so far as my inquiries go, as improbable; but most persons
interviewed believe that men do remain under water 2½ to 3 minutes.
A native of Takaroa, named Tai, assured me in the presence of others
that there were twenty men in that island who could remain under
water 2½ to 3 minutes at a depth of twenty fathoms. He claimed to be
able to stay 3 minutes at that depth.


Diving-suits, or scaphanders, have been used at most of the South Sea
Islands, but in a very irregular manner. In 1890 the use of scaphanders
was restricted in the Tuamotu group, and by decree of December 28, 1892,
it was interdicted altogether with a view to preserving the industry to
the natives, as it represents their principal means of livelihood. The
suit commonly employed at Penrhyn consists of a helmet and a jumper,
neither boots nor trousers being worn. Owing to the absence of weights
on the feet, it rarely but nevertheless sometimes happens that a diver
turns upside down, and the unwieldy helmet keeps him head downward while
the air rushes out under the bottom cord of the jumper and he is
suffocated. Also, when a good patch of shells has been located, the
temptation to remain down too long is great, and paralysis often
results. On the whole, these diving-suits have proven very dangerous to
the light, graceful swimmers of these southern seas, to whom they are
about as much of an impediment as was Saul’s armor to the shepherd lad
who slew the giant with the simple pebble from a sling.

And there are dangers also in nude diving, even to those who have spent
a lifetime about the water. Sharks and sting-rays and devil-fish there
are in abundance, and many of them know the taste of diver’s flesh; on
the other hand many a daring South Sea Islander could tell of a fierce
combat more thrilling than even those pictured by Victor Hugo. One of
the chief advantages of the diving-suit is that in case a shark comes
along, the diver can bide his time until the fish is ready to leave, or
he can frighten it away by ejecting air bubbles from the sleeve of his
suit or by other demonstrations; whereas a nude diver is obliged to seek
the air without delay, and in the retreat is seized by the fish who,
human like, has his appetite increased by the visible retreat of the
object of his desire.

Not Schiller nor Edgar Allan Poe ever conjured up a picture more
ghastly than that of a Penrhyn diver caught like a rat in a trap by
some huge, man-eating shark or fierce kara mauua, crouching in a
cleft of the overhanging coral, under the dark green gloom of a
hundred feet of water, with bursting lungs and cracking eyeballs,
while the threatening bulk of his terrible enemy looms dark and
steady, full in the road to life and air. A minute or more has been
spent in the downward journey; another minute has passed in the
agonized wait under the rock…. Has he been seen?… Will the
creature move away now, while there is still time to return? The
diver knows to a second how much time has passed; the third minute
is on its way; but one goes up quicker than one comes down, and
there is still hope…. Two minutes and a half; it is barely
possible now, but—the sentinel of death glides forward; his cruel
eyes, phosphorescent in the gloom, look right into the cleft where
the wretched creature is crouching, with almost twenty seconds of
life still left, but now not a shred of hope. A few more beats of
the laboring pulse, a gasp from the tortured lungs, a sudden rush of
silvery air bubbles, and the brown limbs collapse down out of the
cleft like wreaths of seaweed. The shark has his own. (Beatrice
Grimshaw in the “Graphic.”)

At the end of the day’s work, the catch is opened by means of a large
knife, and carefully searched for the much prized pearls. Usually the
fisherman finds none; occasionally he discovers a small round one or a
large baroque, and at long intervals—possibly once in two or three
years—his search is rewarded with a fine pearl for which he may receive
$50 or $60, and there is always the chance that the very next oyster
will disclose a gem which will make him independent for the remainder of
his life; and if no pearls whatever are found, there are the shells, the
sale of which furnishes sufficient to purchase tobacco, knives,
fish-hooks, the gaudy cotton cloths, the flour and other simple articles
of food, and especially rum, that fatal gift of civilization which has
been the curse of so many primitive peoples.

Some of the individual pearls secured have been remarkably large,
weighing 100 grains and over. Returning visitors from Tahiti, with views
magnified doubtless in proportion to the distance of the objects of
their description, credited Queen Pomaré with the possession of some
sufficiently large to be used for billiard-balls. Sixty years ago superb
pearls could be obtained from the natives for a few gallons of rum or a
small number of pieces of cheap calico, and several shrewd traders made
great profits in the business. But as trade at the islands was open to
vessels of all nationalities, the competition increased, with the result
that the natives gradually learned the high estimation in which pearls
are held, and in recent years it has not been unusual for one of medium
grade to sell higher in Oceanica than it would in Europe.

It is difficult to form a reliable estimate of the value of the pearling
industry of the South Sea Islands. The Tuamotu group, with 4000
fishermen, yields, in an average season, about 450 tons of
mother-of-pearl, worth about £65,000 in London, where most of it is
marketed. The yield at the remaining French islands is less than that of
the Tuamotus. Probably the total yield of mother-of-pearl in all the
South Sea Islands is not far from 900 tons, worth about $700,000.

No statistics whatever are available regarding the yield of pearls, and
the estimates sent from the islands are small compared with those made
by London and Paris firms who import the pearls. A large number of
persons living in Papeiti and many traders visiting the islands depend
very largely on pearl-dealing for a livelihood. From the yield of pearl
shell and estimates made by dealers, we are inclined to put the value of
the pearls secured in an average season from all the South Sea Islands
at about $125,000, only a small portion of which goes to the fishermen
themselves, the greater part representing profits of the traders.


PEARL FISHERIES OF AUSTRALIA

Ocean’s gem, the purest
Of nature’s works! What days of weary journeyings,
What sleepless nights, what toils on land and sea,
Are borne by men to gain thee!

UNKNOWN.

As regards area of distribution the most extensive pearl-oyster grounds
of the world are situated on the northern and western coasts of
Australia. These are located within the jurisdictions of Queensland,
Western Australia, and South Australia; and extend in irregular patches
from near Cooktown on the northeast almost to Fremantle at the
southwest, a distance of nearly 3000 miles. Those in Queensland are
commonly known as the Torres Straits fisheries, as they are especially
important there; but they extend a considerable distance beyond each end
of the strait, and pearling expeditions are made from the limits of the
Great Barrier coral reef northward to the vicinity of New Guinea.[248]
Those of Western Australia are commonly spoken of as the Northwest
fisheries.

The fisheries of Queensland and of Western Australia are approximately
equal in extent, as regards number of vessels, boats, and men employed,
and the quantity and value of the catch, with the advantage slightly in
favor of the Northwest fishery in the last four or five years. In 1905,
according to the official figures, the Queensland fishery gave
employment to 348 vessels and 2850 men, and yielded shell and pearls
worth £135,000, which was the smallest output since 1890. The Western
Australia fishery, exclusive of Sharks Bay, employed 365 vessels in
1905, and about the same number of men as in Queensland, and yielded
£196,000 worth of shell and pearls. The fishery of South Australia
employed about 60 vessels and 375 men, and yielded about £25,000 worth
of shell and pearls. This makes for the whole of Australia, except
Sharks Bay hereinafter noted, a total of 773 vessels, 6075 men, and an
output worth £356,000. It should be understood that the South Australia
fishery is not prosecuted on the southern coast of the continent, but on
the northern coast, in what is known as the Northern Territory of South
Australia.

Three species of pearl-oysters are found in Australian waters. The
largest species, _Margaritifera maxima_, which is by far the most
important and widely distributed, occurs to a greater or less extent
throughout the whole of this region. This yields the standard
motherof-pearl of commerce. Although the pearls which it yields are
among the largest and finest in the world, this mollusk is sought more
particularly for the shell, the value of which from season to season
averages three or four times as much as that of the pearls. Ordinarily
this shell is uniformly white over the entire inner surface, and is
commonly known locally as “silver lip”; but some “golden-edged” shell
occurs on the muddy grounds in narrow passages between the islands on
the northwest coast.

While this species is gregarious, it is not located in densely covered
beds, but is scattered in patches over the reefs. Some of these are
miles in length and contain scores of tons, but visually they are very
much smaller. The oysters occur principally on rocky bottom, and also on
clay and sand when well covered with seaweeds, but are rarely found on
muddy ground. They are most numerous in the channels where the current
is strong. The small oysters are generally loosely attached by the
byssus to rock, gravel or other shells; while the mature ones lie
loosely on the bottom or slightly turned in the sand.

The second species of the Australian pearl-oysters, _Margaritifera
margaritifera_, is smaller, rarely exceeding eight inches in diameter
and a weight of two pounds. The distinguishing characteristic is the
black edge bordering the inner surface of the shell, whence it acquired
the local designation “black lip.” This variety is not rare in
Queensland, and in Western Australia its range extends as far as
Champion Bay in Lat. 29° S. However, the catch is small compared with
that of the _Margaritifera maxima_, amounting to only two or three per
cent. in Queensland. In 1905, the export of “silver lip” and
“golden-edged” from Thursday Island was 527 tons, and of “black lip”
only 11 tons; in 1904, these figures were 778 and 7 respectively. In
Western Australia the percentage of yield is much larger than this.

The third species, _Margaritifera carcharium_, is confined almost
entirely to the limits of Sharks Bay, on the extreme western coast of
Australia. At maturity it is the smallest of the three, averaging three
or four inches in diameter, and about equals in size the Lingah
pearl-oyster of the Persian Gulf. The percentage of pearls therefrom is
relatively greater than from the larger variety; but, owing to its small
size and lack of thickness, the shell is of little commercial value. The
value of the output in recent years has approximated two or three
thousand pounds sterling, which is very much less than formerly, the
value of the shell having greatly decreased since the introduction of
the Mississippi shell in button manufacture.

The pearl fishery on the coast of Australia originated about 1861. It
appears that an American sailor named Tays was the pioneer in the
business; and on his death by drowning, the business was conducted by
his partner named Seubert.[249] This was on the northwest coast, and the
output reached the market by way of Singapore. At first the oysters were
so abundant in shallow water that they could be picked up at low tide,
and beach-combing was profitable, especially when carried on with cheap
native labor. As the beach-beds became exhausted, the natives were
encouraged to wade out to greater depths, and soon they became
accustomed to “bob under” for those oysters visible from the surface.
The Australian blacks were thus taught to dive, and in 1867 diving from
boats in two or three fathoms was attempted with such success that in
the following year the practice was generally adopted, the depth in
which they worked gradually extending to six or eight fathoms. In diving
from a boat, the men imitated “bobbing under” which they had practised
in shoaler water; they slipped off the gunwale feet foremost, and when
six or eight feet below the surface, turned and swam downward.

Owing to the close labor relations existing between the natives and the
sheep-raisers of northwestern Australia, the latter were brought into
the business, and for a number of years pearling and sheep-raising were
closely associated. The blacks were employed in various duties in
connection with raising and shearing sheep, and it was important to find
some occupation for them when ranch-work was slack, not only for their
own subsistence but for the protection of the herdsmen and their
property. Fortunately, this opportunity was furnished by the pearl
fishery, for which these men were well qualified.

The profits of the business soon attracted many outside capitalists, and
it became difficult to procure divers. Not only did the pearlers—and
particularly new-comers—resort to impressing the blacks into service,
but skilled fishermen were brought over from the Malay Archipelago, and
in some cases the methods used in securing them were by no means
regular.

In 1871 the Northwest pearl fishery gave employment to 12 vessels of 15
to 50 tons each, and yielded about 180 tons of mother-of-pearl. During
the same year, in Torres Straits, where the industry had extended about
1868, there were 10 vessels—mostly from the port of Sydney—and the catch
of mother-of-pearl approximated 200 tons, valued at £60,000 in
London.[250] Each vessel was commonly manned by two or three white men
and from ten to fifty divers, who worked from dinghys, in gangs of six
or eight each with an overseer in charge.

As the fishery increased rapidly in extent, the problem of securing nude
divers became a serious one, and “nigger hunting” became rather common,
the Australian black man representing the cheapest form of labor,
working for his food, tobacco, and the simplest articles of clothing.
There was no complaint that the men thus impressed were treated with
inhumanity; on the contrary they were well fed and cared for; yet, with
a view to protecting them and preventing even a suspicion of
wrong-doing, the Australian government enacted regulations restricting
pearling contracts with the natives. Nearly every year these regulations
became more stringent, affecting the hours for diving, and limiting the
work to depths of six and a half fathoms, so that the employment of
Australian aborigines in the fishery became extremely troublesome and
annoying.

The government of the Netherlands also placed severe restrictions on the
employment of natives of the Dutch Indies, requiring security of £20 per
head for the repatriation of each man; and the local chiefs or rajahs
also expected a rake-off before permitting their men to ship. These
Malays—from the islands of Solor, Allor, Adonare, etc.,—also expected
much better pay and better provisions than the Australian blacks.

The following interesting account by Henry Taunton gives a graphic
description of the fishery as carried on at that time:

The work was far from easy. It was exhausting and perilous for the
divers, and full of privation, exposure, and danger for the white
men. Only the hope of a prosperous season reconciled one to the
life. When shells were plentiful and the weather fine, the work was
exciting and interesting enough; but during rough weather, when one
had to be constantly straining at the oar to keep the dinghy from
drifting too rapidly, or when hour after hour might pass without the
men bringing up a single shell, the discouragement was great. The
rays of the vertical sun beating down on one’s shoulders at such
times seemed as if it would never reach the western horizon, which
was the signal for returning on board.

As may well be imagined, when three or four white men had to control
and compel some thirty or forty natives to carry on work which they
detested, a very strict discipline had to be maintained. It was the
rule that no talking was allowed amongst the divers when in the
dinghy, nor were they even permitted to address the white man,
unless, maybe, to answer a question as to the nature of the bottom,
whether _nanoo_ (sand) or _bannin_ (shelly bottom), etc., or unless
some urgent necessity arose. Sometimes, indeed, I have pushed off
from the vessel’s side of a morning and have not heard a word spoken
until we returned on board at night, unless chance might take me
within hail of some other dinghy, when felicitations or condolences
would be exchanged, as good or bad luck might happen. At times, when
the “patch” was small, the dinghys of the whole fleet might be
congregated on a very small area, in which case the scene was
animated enough. On all sides you could see divers slipping into the
water and others just coming to the surface, puffing, blowing, and
coughing to clear their eyes, ears, and mouth from the salt
water—some with, others without shells. Others would be swimming to
regain their dinghy or squatting in their places for the few
minutes’ rest permitted, and, if the wind were at all fresh,
shivering with cold; for although the weather might be extremely
hot, the constant plunging in and out for many hours at a time
tended to reduce the bodily temperature considerably. The white men
would be seen standing up in each dinghy. They were lightly clad,
with shirt sleeves and trousers rolled up, in all varieties and
colours of costume, from the regulation shirt, trousers, and felt
hat, with leather belt sustaining sheath-knife and pouch, to the
more comfortable pyjama suit, or even the Malay sarong. Some would
be straining hard at the end of the scull-oar, forcing the boat
against wind and tide in the endeavor to keep it as long as possible
on the “patch,” which was marked by the discoverer’s buoy, which
also might be observed nodding on the surface, and canted over by
the swiftly rushing tide. Others, their men all being below, just
kept the dinghy’s head to wind until, by judicious use of the oar
and well-calculated drifting, all the divers reappear on the surface
within a short distance from their own boat. This is the secret of
saving the divers from wasting their powers and time uselessly….
As may be supposed, where the tide sweeps the divers along the
bottom at the rate of three or four or even six miles an hour, they
have to be very smart in seeking and grabbing any shell within
reach. I have never tested them with a time-keeper; but by counting
seconds on many occasions, from the moment a diver’s head sank below
until it again came above the surface, I estimated the average time
under water was fifty-seven seconds. Part of this is of course
expended in swimming to the bottom, where they can remain only a
very few seconds, as time must be allowed for reaching the surface
before letting go their breath. Practice in ever-varying depths
enables them to gauge this limit of time to a nicety. But sometimes
they cut things too fine, and then a catastrophe was inevitable,
unless much watchfulness was exercised by the white man, who has to
keep his eyes turned in all directions once his men are down. So
long as a diver can hold his breath the pressure forces him to the
surface at a speed which seldom requires accelerating by strokes
with the hands or feet; but the moment he lets go his breath—if
under water—his upward course is arrested and his body commences to
sink. Now, when the white man sees this, either he must plunge in to
the rescue himself, or direct such divers who may be on the top to
do the needful.

On a calm day, when one can see far into the blue clear depths
below, I have often seen one of my men shooting rapidly upwards
until within perhaps a foot or two from the surface, when a sudden
gush of bubbles from the man’s mouth would tell its own tale.
Instantly he would begin to sink gently downwards, and only quick
action could save this diver who had miscalculated his time.
However, as it was not infrequent for divers to go down and never
come up at all, one may conclude that, where the time to be allowed
is comprised in so few seconds, even the most experienced make fatal
errors.[251]

The difficulties in securing labor at length resulted in experiments
with the scaphander or diving dress, and gradually its adoption by most
of the pearling fleet. The labor problem and the exhaustion of the
oysters in medium depths developed more quickly in Torres Straits than
on the northwest coast, and diving outfits were introduced there about
1879, while this was delayed about five years longer on the northwest
coast. The outfit did not immediately supplant nude diving in either
locality. In 1883, only 80 of the 206 Queensland vessels were supplied
with scaphanders, the others continuing to use nude diving, and even yet
nearly one third of the vessels depend on that form of fishery. Of the
353 vessels fishing in 1904, 108 depended on nude divers and 245 were
supplied with armored equipment.

In 1881 the Queensland government took cognizance of the rapidly
developing industry, and enacted a license system and other regulations.
For every boat under two tons an annual license fee of £1 (in 1886 this
was reduced to ten shillings) was enacted, and for every vessel of ten
tons or under, the sum of £3, with an additional amount for vessels in
excess of that measurement; but not exceeding £20 in any case.[252] In
1886 it was required by the Queensland government that every person
employed “as a diver, and using a diving apparatus,” must be licensed
annually, for which a fee of £1 is exacted.[253] And in 1891 it was
required that “every diving dress and air-pump and all air-tubes and
gear used in the fishery in connection with diving must be submitted to
an inspector for examination once at least in every period of six
months.”[254] The license system was adopted in Western Australia in
1886, a fee of £1 per annum being exacted for each vessel engaged in the
fishery.[255] In 1891, South Australia adopted the license system,
requiring that every boat of two tons or under should pay ten shillings,
and that each boat over that measurement should pay twenty shillings.

With a view to protecting the reefs, the government of Queensland in
1891 enacted a law forbidding the sale or removal—except for cultivation
purposes—of any pearl shell “of the kind scientifically known as
_Meleagrina margaritifera_, and of either of the varieties commonly
known as ‘golden-edged’ and ‘silver lip,’ of which the nacre or
mother-of-pearl measures less than six inches from the butt or hinge to
the opposite edge or lip, but this does not apply to the variety
commonly called ‘dwarf-shell.’”[256] Owing to the difficulty in
enforcing this regulation, the size restriction was reduced in 1897 to
five inches from the hinge to the opposite lip, or six and one half
inches exteriorly, shells of this size weighing approximately one pound.
It is claimed that many oysters less than five inches in length are
raised, opened for pearls, and then cast back into the water.[257] In
1899 the governor of South Australia interdicted the capture in the
waters of that territory of any shell of “_Meleagrina margaritifera_
measuring less than four inches from the butt or hinge to the opposite
edge or lip.” Competent evidence exists that a good-sized pearl has been
found in an oyster measuring one inch in diameter.

The fishermen of Western Australia rendezvous at Broome, about one
thousand miles by water north of Perth, the nearest railway station.
With only a thousand or so inhabitants, under normal conditions, this is
a scene of great activity, and bears a reputation of being no
Sunday-school when the fishermen are in, with tons of shell and many a
pickle bottle more or less full of pearls. Cossack and Onslow are also
important stations.

In 1905, 340 luggers and 25 schooners were employed in the pearl
fisheries of Western Australia, exclusive of Sharks Bay. Of this number
about 85 per cent. hailed from Broome. The schooners ranged in size from
13 to 133 tons, and the luggers were mostly about 12 tons, with a
minimum of 3 and a maximum of 14 tons. The total number of fishermen
approximated 2900, a medley of races, Japanese, Malays, Chinese, Arabs,
native aboriginals and South Sea Islanders working together more or less
harmoniously. The yield consisted of 1394 tons of mother-of-pearl, with
a declared value of £146,225, and about £50,000 worth of pearls, a total
of £196,255 for the year, which was an increase of £32,286 over
1904.[258]

The headquarters for the fishery of the Northern Territory of South
Australia are at Port Darwin. In 1905 this fishery employed forty-nine
sail vessels and two canoes manned by Europeans, and two proas and
twelve canoes manned by Malays. The crews, numbering about 375,
consisted mainly of Malays, Japanese and Filipinos. In 1905, 42 per
cent. were Malays, 24 per cent. were Japanese, and 20 per cent. were
Filipinos. Owing to the low price of pearl shell, the fishery was not
prosecuted actively, and many of the Asiatics left for the pearling
reefs at the Aru Islands. The total value of pearl shells reported among
the exports for that year was £18,526; during the preceding year it was
£28,391. No record is available for the value of the pearls.

The Queensland pearling fleet has its rendezvous at Port Kennedy,
Thursday Island, which was originally maintained by the British, the
Queensland, and the New South Wales governments as a harbor of refuge
for mariners. Politically this port is important as the strategic key to
the northeast of Australia, but its prosperity is almost wholly
dependent on the pearl-oyster fishery. The population approximates 1600,
consisting largely of Japanese, Malays, Cingalese, Pacific islanders,
and Australian aborigines, with specimens from nearly every Asiatic and
European nationality, and some from America and Africa. The Japanese
predominate, their influx dating from 1891; and at present the industry
is largely dependent on these Scotchmen of the Orient for its most
skilful workmen. The heterogeneous nationalities, and the abundance of
sand-flies, mosquitos, etc., make this island rather less desirable as a
place of residence than it is interesting from a political and
ethnological point of view.

The Queensland fishery in 1905 employed 348 vessels, and yielded 543
tons of shell, according to the government returns. In 1904, 353 vessels
were engaged, and the catch was 798 tons of shell.

During the last fifteen years there has been a very steady decrease in
the average catch of pearl-oysters per boat in the Australian fishery.
The average catch in the Queensland fleet in 1890 approximated 7 tons
per boat; from 1898 to 1903 it was about 3 tons annually; in 1904 it was
only 2¼ tons, and in 1905 a trifle more than 1½ tons. The yearly
increasing number of boats would naturally lower the average, but the
decrease is generally ascribed to the denudation of the reefs, due to
close working for thirty-five years without giving them a chance to
recuperate.

The small yield in Queensland in 1904 and 1905 was due largely ta the
extended rough weather and the accompanying thick or muddy water, which
presented an obstacle to the prosecution of the work. Mr. Hugh Milman,
the government resident at Thursday Island, states that each year the
beds in the more sheltered spots have been extensively fished, rendering
it necessary for the fleet to go farther afield in places where the
depth of water is greater, and where the vessels are more exposed to the
full force of the southeast winds which prevail for about seven months
of the year, and which were unusually severe in 1905.[259] The general
denudation of the beds is not the principal cause of the decreased take.
An additional cause for the falling off in 1905 was the deflection of a
large percentage of the fleet to new fields of operation, 110 vessels
leaving for the Aru Islands in the Arafura Sea, when the season was
about half finished.

For vessels using diving apparatus, the season continues throughout the
year, but it is frequently interrupted by storms, which may cause the
boats to lie in harbor for ten days, or even two weeks at a time. The
nude divers suspend work from December to March, and also during the
season of gales.

Each vessel is manned by a diver, his attendant, and a crew of four men,
who in pairs take alternate shifts at the manual pump for supplying air
to the diver. The entire force of men take part in managing the vessel
and in caring for the catch. The vessel is provided with full equipment
and supplies of food, water, etc., to last two or three weeks, depending
on the distance of the fishing grounds from the shore station, or the
frequency of trips made by a supply vessel.

Except a number of owners and their representatives, there are now very
few white persons engaged in pearling in Australian waters. Even the
persons in charge of the vessels are largely natives of the Pacific
Islands. Owing to the hardships encountered and the small remuneration,
it is difficult to secure white labor; and aliens from Japan, the
Philippines, Java, Singapore, India and New Guinea, are employed.

The divers are of many nationalities, principally Japanese and Malays,
and the former are said to be the most efficient. Previous to 1890, they
were mostly whites, and were paid at the rate of £40 per ton of shells;
but increased competition and the influx of cheaper labor caused a
considerable decrease in the rate of compensation, driving most of the
white men out of the employment. At present the Japanese almost
monopolize the business. Of the 367 divers licensed at Thursday Island
in 1905, 291 were Japanese, 32 were Filipinos, 21 were from Rotuma
Island, 16 were Malays, and 7 were of other nationalities; this shows
how completely the white man has been driven out of this skilled branch
of labor.

The oysters are so scattered that considerable walking is necessary to
find them. They usually lie with the shells partly open, and in grasping
them the fisherman must be careful not to insert a finger within the
open shell, or a very bad pinch will result. The progress of the vessel
must be adapted to that of the diver, and when a good clump of oysters
is found it may even be desirable to anchor. If the current and wind are
just right, the vessel may repeatedly drift over a bed, the diver
ascending and remaining on board while the vessel is retracing its
course to the windward side of the reef. On new grounds, the nature of
the bottom is determined by casting the lead properly tipped with soap
or tallow, and the prospects for oysters thus determined without
descending.

During good weather and in eight or ten fathoms of water, a diver can
work almost continually, and need not return to the surface for two
hours or more; but as the depth increases, the length of time he may
remain at the bottom in safety decreases almost in geometric ratio, and
he comes to the surface frequently for a “blow” with helmet removed.
Evidence secured by a departmental commission of the Queensland
government in 1897, showed that in good weather at a depth of eight or
ten fathoms, a diver works from sunrise to sunset, coming to the surface
only a few times. In a depth of over fifteen fathoms the attendant
usually has instructions not to let him remain longer than fifteen
minutes at a time; yet a diver’s eagerness in working where good shell
is plentiful sometimes impels him to order the attendant to disregard
this rule. The very great pressure of the water—amounting to thirty-nine
pounds or more to the square inch—is liable to cause paralysis, and
death occasionally results. In working at a depth of twenty to
twenty-five fathoms, a diver is rarely under water longer than half an
hour altogether during the day. The greatest depth from which shell is
brought appears from the same evidence to be “30 fathoms and a little
over”; but at that depth—where the pressure is seventy-eight pounds to
the square inch—the fisherman remains down only a few minutes at a
stretch, and should be exceedingly careful. The work is injurious, and
even under the best conditions the diver not infrequently becomes
semi-paralyzed and disqualified in a few years. Notwithstanding that the
work is performed by men in vigorous health, nearly every year there are
from ten to twenty-five deaths in the Queensland fleet alone;[260] three
fourths of these are due to paralysis, and most of the remaining result
from suffocation, owing largely to inexperience in use of gear. From
five to ten years is the usual length of a man’s diving career, although
in the fleet may be found men who have been diving for twenty-five years
or more.

On the vessels manned by Japanese, commonly several members of the crew
are competent divers and take a turn at the work, although only one
license is secured. Such a vessel carries only one head-piece, but two
otherwise complete suits, the helmet fitting either, so that as soon as
one exhausted diver comes up to rest, a successor is ready to have the
helmet screwed to his body-dress and descend without delay, thus saving
about half an hour in the changing.

The nude divers in the Australian pearl fisheries are mostly Malays and
Australian aborigines. They work from dinghys operated from a vessel,
each dinghy carrying six or eight divers, usually with a white man as
overseer. The man in charge sculls against the tide to keep the boat
stationary over the ground, and all the fishermen of a particular dinghy
descend together for greater safety from sharks, and to cover the ground
systematically. On rising, each diver swims to the boat, throws his
catch over the gunwale, and climbs in to rest for a few minutes.
Sometimes two or possibly even three oysters may be brought up at a
single descent, but a diver is doing well if he brings up one oyster in
ten descents. The average daily catch of each man is probably two or
three oysters, but a fisherman has been known to bring up fifty in one
day. On some vessels, those who fall behind in the catch are punished by
extra duty aboard ship.

The pearling industry has had a marked effect on the industrial and
social condition of the natives of the Australian coast and the adjacent
islands. Many of these natives now have boats of their own, and others
seek employment on other vessels. Law and order and decent respect for
property have arisen, with schools and churches. The result is all the
more remarkable when it is considered that scarcely more than a
generation has passed since labor among the men was unknown, the women
doing all the work necessary to meet their scanty requirements.

As now carried on in Australia, pearling is a hard life, the men working
for two thirds of the season in a dead calm and oppressive heat, while
in the remaining months they are rolling day and night. The members of
the crew are not allowed ashore without a written permission from the
captain of the boat, and men and luggage are searched on leaving the
vessel. In addition to these objections, life on board is not unusually
made intensely disagreeable by the myriads of inch-long cockroaches,
which are attracted by and multiply rapidly on the shreds of muscle left
on the pearl shell stored in the hold. Storms are frequent on the coast.
In February, 1899, three schooners and eighty smaller vessels were
wrecked, and eleven white and four hundred colored men were drowned.

At the end of each day’s fishing, the oysters are cleaned of submarine
growths. Sometimes this is by no means an easy task, as many of the
shells are so covered with weeds, coral, and sponge as to bear little
resemblance to oysters. After they have been scrubbed and the edges have
been chipped, they are washed and stored on deck. Early the following
morning they are opened and examined for pearls. This opening is done
carefully to avoid injury to any pearl that may be within. The hinge of
the shell is placed on the deck and a broad knife forced down so as to
sever the adductor muscle, causing the shells to spring open and
permitting the removal of the soft parts. The flesh is carefully
examined, both by sight and by feeling, to locate all pearls, which are
picked out by hand and placed in a suitable receptacle. Within the
adductor muscle are found seed-pearls and small baroques; the large
pearls are found embedded in the mantle, where their presence may be
detected as soon as the shell is opened, the pearly gleam contrasting
with the light blue of the mantle. Sometimes, though rarely, large
pearls are found loose within the shell, whence they roll out when the
shell is opened. Valuable pearls are occasionally removed from blisters
on the surface of the shell, or from within the body of the nacre
itself. Even when empty, these blisters are valuable, and are especially
adapted for brooches and other ornaments requiring a broad and
relatively flat surface.

After the flesh has been carefully examined throughout, it is discarded,
as it is not considered suitable for food, and the shell is dried for
half a day or so to make the hinge brittle in order that it may be
broken without injury to the mother-of-pearl. After the shell has been
roughly cleaned, it is placed in the hold, if the vessel is operating
from a shore station, as is commonly the case in Torres Straits. Since
long exposure to the sun affects the quality of the mother-of-pearl, it
is important that it be kept under cover. On returning to the station,
it is thoroughly cleaned, assorted, dried, the dark edges clipped off,
and the cleaned shell is packed in shipping cases, each containing from
250 to 325 pounds. On the west coast, where the vessels at times operate
200 or 300 miles from port, the shell is cleaned, assorted and crated on
the vessels; whence it may be delivered direct to the steamers. The
Northwest shell is somewhat smaller than the mature shell of Torres
Straits, averaging about 1100 to the ton, whereas that of Thursday
Island runs about 725 to the ton.

It is very difficult to prevent the theft of pearls by the fishermen as
they are liable to treat them as perquisites if not carefully watched.
Indeed, on the Torres Straits vessels it has come about that pearls do
not constitute a recognized source of income to the proprietors. There
the fishery is now conducted almost exclusively for the shells, as the
wage-earners secrete probably as many valuable pearls as they turn over
to the rightful owners. The hot sun causes many of the oysters to open,
and deft fingers quickly pick out such pearls as may be visible. An
oyster may be induced to open its shell by being held near the galley
fire on the lugger, and the insertion of a piece of cork holds it open
while a pearl is shaken out or hooked out by means of a piece of wire.
Then the cork is removed and the oyster closes again with no evidence of
robbery. The proprietors of boats who themselves open the oysters almost
invariably secure larger yields of fine pearls than those who depend on
paid employees, who rarely have the luck to find choice pearls, judging
from what they turn in. The government of Queensland has endeavored to
put a stop to pearl stealing, and by enactment[261] of 1891, it
restricted all selling or buying of pearls within the fishing region
except through regularly licensed dealers, whose transactions are open
to examination.

But the fishermen seem to have little difficulty in evading the laws,
and throughout the fleet the men have become so adept that they regard
the pearls as their contraband perquisites. And the ease with which
these may be secreted is surpassed only by the facility with which they
may be sold, notwithstanding legislation to the contrary. Indeed, some
employers make no claim to the pearls found, thus enabling them to
secure fishermen at lower rates of wages.

As previously noted, the pearls constitute only an incidental catch in
the fisheries on the Australian coast, but in the aggregate the yield is
very large. The yield in the northwest Australian fishery in 1906 is
estimated at £50,000, local valuation; in the Queensland fishery
£33,000; in that of South Australia £5000, a total of £88,000 or
$440,000.[262] Relatively few seed-pearls are obtained, and some of the
pearls are of great size. Some beautiful specimens have been found, but
usually they have less luster and are more irregular in form than the
Persian or the Indian output.

Among the remedies suggested for improving the condition of the
Australian pearl reefs may be mentioned the establishment of six inches
as the minimum size of the shell that may be taken (five inches is now
permitted in Queensland, and there is no restriction in Western
Australia), the closure of certain areas for stated periods from time to
time, and a limit on the number of vessels employed. The government
resident at Thursday Island, Mr. Hugh Milman, who has had long
acquaintance with the industry, strongly recommends the adoption of a
system of artificial culture; and in the meantime, to foster the
industry, “licenses should be granted to a reduced number of boats and
certain sheltered areas should be closed altogether for a few years to
give the beds time to recover. This latter procedure, however, the
pearlers themselves are not in favor of, as they are of the opinion that
the weather conditions against which they have to contend are sufficient
protection to prevent the denudation of the principal grounds.”

A few years ago certain areas in Torres Straits were proclaimed closed
for a period against the removal of pearl shell; but, owing to the want
of effective patrol, the shell was poached to a very large extent, and
consequently the good that should have resulted from the experiment was
not apparent. Owing to the impracticability of continuous patrol, and
the want of proper legislation to bring die offenders to book, it was
decided to remove the restrictions.

The Sharks Bay fishery, to which we have previously referred,[263] is
prosecuted by means of small sail-boats using light dredges, except in
the case of the very shallow or “pick-up banks,” where the oysters are
commonly removed by hand. Some years ago this fishery was of much local
importance; but the developing scarcity of the oysters, and the present
low value of this grade of shell in Europe, due to the competition with
Mississippi shell, have resulted in a great reduction. In 1905, the
industry gave employment to 17 small boats and 42 men, of whom 18 were
Europeans, 13 Asiatics, and 11 aboriginal natives. The yield of pearls,
according to official report of the government of Western Australia,
approximated £2000 in value, and of pearl shell there was 88 tons, with
a declared value of £607. In 1896 the government of Western Australia
surveyed the Sharks Bay reefs, and opened them to preëmption in small
areas for cultivating this species of pearl-oyster. At present they are
mostly held under exclusive licenses for a period of fourteen years. The
business is under an elaborate system of regulations; but as appears
from the above figures the results have not been important.

Pearls are more numerous in this pearl-oyster than in the two other
Australian species. In removing them from the flesh, a modification of
the Ceylon process is adopted. The mollusks are opened by means of a
knife, and the contents of the shells are placed in vats or tubs—known
locally as “poogie tubs”; and, exposed to the hot sun, are allowed to
putrefy. Sea water is added, and the putrid mass stirred; after several
days the water and the thoroughly disintegrated flesh tissues are
decanted, leaving the pearls at the bottom. The odor from a number of
these “poogie tubs” is said to almost rival that of the “washing
toddies” at Marichchikadde.

The Sharks Bay pearls are commonly yellowish or straw-colored, and
sometimes have a beautiful golden tinge. Although obtained from small
shells, they are sometimes of considerable size—twenty grains or more in
weight, and fine specimens sell for several hundred dollars each. China
and India furnish better markets for them than Europe or America.


PEARL FISHERIES OF THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO

My thoughts arise and fade in solitude;
The verse that would invest them melts away
Like moonlight in the heaven of spreading day.
How beautiful they were, how firm they stood,
Flecking the starry sky like woven pearl.

SHELLEY, _My Thoughts_.

For nearly four hundred years, pearls and pearl shells have been the
most beautiful objects which have reached the outside world from the
many islands of the Malay Archipelago. On his visit to this part of the
world in 1520, Pigopitta, a companion of Magalhães, reported pearls
among the prized possessions of the natives. The fisheries have never
been of great importance, although the reefs are widely scattered
throughout the archipelago, and the possibilities seem favorable for
very great development. Thomas de Comyn stated a century ago, that pearl
fisheries had been undertaken “from time to time about Mindanao, Zebu,
and some of the smaller islands, but with little success and less
regularity, not because of a scarcity of fine pearls, but on account of
a lack of skill of the divers and their well-established dread of
sharks.”[264]

Giacinto Gemmi,[265] writing of Philippine pearls, repeats a strange
tale from the “Storia de Mindanao” by the Jesuit father, Combes, to the
effect that in a certain spot, under many fathoms of water, there was a
pearl of inestimable value, as large as an egg; but, although the king’s
ministers had made every effort to have it secured, they had always been
unsuccessful.

During the last thirty years, pearls and pearl shells have been secured
from most of the inshore waters of Malaysia, but the output has not been
so regular or so extensive as the conditions seem to warrant. Our
observation leads to the conviction that this is not due so much to lack
of skill on the part of the divers, or to their dread of sharks,
mentioned by Comyn; but to the fact that foreign capital, attracted to
this part of the world, has found more security and profit in developing
plantations, and the natives have not had sufficient enterprise to
systematize and develop the fishery resources.

Throughout Malaysia, including the Philippine Islands, the pearl is
known as _mutya_, _mootara_, or a similar name, closely resembling the
Sanskrit _mukta_ or the Cingalese _mootoo_, indicating the source of the
influence originating the fishery and trade.

The most widely-known pearl fisheries of Malaysia are in the Sulu
Archipelago, a group of islands comprising about 1000 square miles in
area, and containing a population of 100,000. The beautiful yellow
pearls shared with the many acts of piracy in attracting attention to
this group previous to 1878, when the islands were brought under the
influence of Spanish rule; and since the Spanish-American War, pearl
fishing has been the leading industry, though it has received less
attention from outside sources, perhaps, than has the existence of
slavery and harems as part of the social system.

Writing in 1820, John Crawfurd stated that the annual export of pearls
from Sulu Islands to China approximated 25,000 Spanish dollars in value,
and the mother-of-pearl similarly exported was worth 70,000 dollars.
“Considering the turbulent and piratical habits of the natives of the
Sulu group, it is certain that a greater share of skill and industry
than can at present be applied to the fisheries, would greatly enhance
the value and amount of their produce.”[266]

In the Sulu Archipelago, the pearl-oyster reefs exist from Sibǔtu Pass
to Basilan Strait, and roughly cover an estimated area of 15,000 square
miles; that is, in the most favorable localities throughout this area,
pearl-oysters occur to a greater or less extent. The fisheries are
prosecuted by Malays and Chinese, and are largely centered at Sulu.

Pearl-oysters occur about many other islands. They exist at Maimbun and
Parong; and also off the island of Tapul and its neighbor Lagos, both
southwest of Maimbun. In the channels among these islands, on the rocky
gravelly bottom where there is a good current, oysters are commonly
found. They also occur off Laminusa, northeast of Tawi-Tawi, at Cuyo
Island, and in the waters about Malampaya and Bacuit.

The large mother-of-pearl oyster (_Margaritifera maxima_) known locally
as _concha de nacr_, is by far the most abundant. When full-grown in
this region it is ordinarily between ten and thirteen inches in
diameter. The young oyster attaches itself to the bottom by means of the
green byssus; but after attaining a weight of one pound, it is too heavy
to be easily moved by the tide, and the ligature gradually disappears.
The Australian “black lip” (_Margaritifera margaritifera_), known here
as _concha de nagra_, is also found. In these waters it attains a
diameter of about eight inches, but most specimens are considerably
smaller.

There is another pearly shell in the Philippines, a spiral gasteropod
known locally as _caracoles_, which is ordinarily five or six inches in
diameter, and has a beautiful pearly surface. This yields very few
pearls; it is sought for pearl-button manufacture, selling for about the
same as the _concha de nagra_.

Streeter states that it is declared by the natives of the Sulu
Archipelago that pearls of a yellowish hue have been found in the pearly
nautilus (_Nautilus pompilius_), one of the group of cephalopodous
mollusks. As, however, there is a superstition that they bring ill luck,
the natives say that they throw them away, believing that any one who
should fight while wearing one of these pearls in a ring, would
certainly be killed. If we consider the habits and organism of this
remarkable animal, and the splendid nacreous coating of its shell, the
assertion that pearls are found in it seems quite natural. Indeed, the
occurrence of pearls in the pearly nautilus is generally recognized.

For many years the successive sultans of Sulu exercised authority over
the fisheries and—in addition to exacting certain percentages and
presents from the fishermen—claimed as their perquisites all pearls
exceeding a designated weight. The fisheries were prosecuted by nude
divers, of whom there were a large number. A Chinese company had been
particularly fortunate in its relations with the Sulus, and had an
extensive equipment in the fishery, consisting of a number of small
vessels, each carrying a crew of seven men, who used diving-suits. In
addition to these, some of the native Moros owned boats from which
diving-suits were employed.

Following the Spanish-American War and the transfer of the Philippine
Islands to America, several vessels proceeded to engage in the fisheries
without previously consulting the representatives of the Sultan of Sulu.
This called forth from that official an appeal to the American
authorities for protection in his claims. He gave an account of the
pearl fishery in this interesting document, which we quote at
length—through the courtesy of the American Bureau of Insular
Affairs—because of the light it throws, not only on the industry, but
also on the characteristics of these people with whom the American
government is now dealing.


STATEMENT MADE BY THE SULTAN OF SULU RELATIVE TO THE PEARL FISHERIES

(Forwarded by the Governor of Moro Province.)

[Translation.]

(SEAL of the SULTAN.)
No date.

I beg to inform my father, the civil governor, Major Scott, as you
want to know about the mother-of-pearl shell, why it is the right of
all Sulu people, above all my own right, this is the reason:

The forefathers of the Sulu people used to take the mother-of-pearl
shell from the downs because the mother-of-pearl shell belonged to
the downs, and they took them to eat the oyster with other food; of
the shell they made plates and saucers to put the food on, and the
pearls they used to make a hole through and put them on a string as
necklaces for their children. This was at a time when no other
nation had come to Sulu to buy the mother-of-pearl shell.

Later, a big boat, called the _Sampang_, wandered from China to
Sulu; there were on board many people, all Chinese; it was loaded
with merchandise. The people came ashore and saw the mother-of-pearl
shell which the Sulu people were carrying. The captain of the boat
said: “Have you many more of these things?” and the people answered,
“Plenty; this is what we take from the downs to eat with other
food.” The Captain said. “Gather me plenty. I will buy them from
you.” The people went and gathered them and bartered them for plates
and saucers. When all the shells from the downs were finished they
looked into the deep, and that is how they found the pearling
grounds, and the people noted them, and remembered them. This is
what they agreed upon; whoever finds pearling grounds they belong to
him from generation to generation. That is what they agreed upon.
That is the reason why the Sulu people have the right, and that they
came to make the dredge (_badja_) to get the mother-of-pearl shell
from the deep, because they can not see them.

Later Salips came from Mecca of the Arab nation; they came to Sulu
to convert the people into Mohammedans, as they had no religion. And
when the Sulu people, including the islanders, adopted the faith,
then they agreed to have a sultan and they elected Saripul Hassim to
be sultan. Saripul Hassim said: “I don’t want you to make me your
sultan if I do not know what the rights of the sultan are, and who I
have to govern over, because this is not my country, this is your
country.”

And this is how everybody agreed to accept him as sultan over Sulu
and all the islands; this is how he became Sultan and governed over
all, and this is how Saripul Hassim accepted to be the sultan of
Sulu, to have full power over land and sea, and the people’s rights,
where they got their living from on land and sea, were left to them,
because they were the means of their getting their livelihood.

But a law was made, if they found valuables in the sea, such as
pearls, tortoise shell, ambal or anything extraordinary, they have
to show it to the sultan, and if the pearls weigh six chuchuk or
over they become the share of the sultan; if they do not have that
weight, the people can do with them as they please and sell them. If
the sultan wants them, he will buy them according to custom. As to
tortoise shell, if they weigh two ketties, they go to the sultan,
and as to the ambal, whether it is much or little, it falls to the
sultan. Whoever finds it must take it to the sultan. Whoever of his
subjects violates this law as agreed upon, the sultan can punish him
as he pleases.

They accepted this law as agreed upon, to be carried out by them
(sultan and people), and their descendants, and not to be changed;
but they asked of the sultan not to let any other nation take a
share in this industry; it is enough for them; and the sultan agreed
to this because they did not know how to earn their living
otherwise. This is what the sultan and his subjects agreed to
because the Sulu had no other treasures on land beyond the
cultivation; the treasures came from the sea only, therefore other
people are forbidden because this is the property of all my
subjects, and especially my own.

Recently, in my time and in the Spanish time, there came to me
Captain Tiana; he wanted to dive for pearl shells. I said “I cannot
give you my consent at once because since our forefathers (sultan
and people) we have an agreement, I will confer with my people.” I
sent for the chiefs and the dattos and I told them about it, that
Captain Tiana came to me and asked to dive for pearl shells. They
said it cannot be done, because there is an agreement between our
forefathers that other nations cannot join in this industry of the
Sulu seas, because there is no other means of earning a living for
your subjects.

I informed Captain Tiana of it. He said: “Allow me to dive for pearl
shells, I will give toll to you as sultan and I will also give toll
to the owners of the pearl grounds according to what we agree upon.”

So I informed all the owners of the pearling ground, and they said,
“If he is really in earnest to give toll to us owners of the ground
according to what we agree upon, if we don’t agree, we will not
allow him to fish.” Thereupon Captain Tiana and I went to the
Spanish governor to bear witness. The governor said: “All right;
anything you agree upon; I cannot change the law of the Moro people,
and I will not interfere.”

That is how I allowed Captain Tiana to fish, and I gave him a letter
of the truth according to agreement. Therefore if any person of
other nation wants to fish for mother-of-pearl shell, he will have
to do as Captain Tiana did, and ask me for a letter of truth, and if
he has no letter and does not pay toll to the owners of the ground,
and especially to me, he cannot dive, and if he violates this and if
anything befalls him, I am not responsible and do not want to be
held responsible, because the mother-of-pearl shells are like the
property in our boxes given to us by God. They do not go away from
the places where they are put, they are not like fish that go about.
Therefore, we forbid it. It is our heritage from our forefathers.

(Signed) HADJI MOHAMAD JAMAUL KIRAM,
Sultan of Sulu.

[SEAL OF THE SULTAN.]

Following these representations, the legislative council of the Moro
province, by authority of the Philippine Commission, interdicted all
fishing for pearl-oysters within three marine leagues of any land within
the territorial limits of the Moro province, without license first
obtained from the treasurer of the district within which the vessel
carries on the major part of its operations.[267] No license was to be
issued to any vessel not owned in the Philippine Islands or in the
United States, and not wholly owned by citizens of the United States, by
natives of the Philippine Islands, or by persons who have acquired the
political rights of natives,[268] except that foreign vessels which for
one year immediately preceding had actually engaged in pearl fishing
might secure license to continue therein for a period of five years
thereafter.

Licenses were of two kinds, according to the nature of the fishery. To
engage in fishing with the aid of diving-suits, the fee was five hundred
pesos annually, for each of the greatest number of divers beneath the
surface of the water at any one time. For fishing without submarine
armor, the fee was five pesos annually, for each of the greatest number
of nude divers to be employed by the vessel during any voyage, and the
same sum for each of the greatest number of dredges or rakes to be
employed beneath the surface at any one time; but this did not apply to
vessels under 15 tons, owned and operated wholly by native Moros, until
January 1, 1906.

It was also made unlawful to catch or to have in one’s possession within
the Moro province “any pearl shell or any bivalvular or lateral plate,
or any pearl shell of less than 4½ inches in diameter, measured with a
flat, rigid measuring rod along the line of the ligament which joins one
binocular or lateral plate to the other at the hinge, unless the lateral
plate of such shell be more than 7 inches in diameter measured with a
flat, rigid measuring rod from the outer edge of the horny lips to the
center of the hinge, the rod being so placed as to form a right angle
with the line of the hinge.”[269]

According to a report furnished by the Mining Bureau at Manila, there
were seven vessels fishing with diving-suits in the Sulu Archipelago in
1905, each representing an investment of about 6000 pesos. In 1906 there
were ten vessels engaged in this industry, and the collection on
licenses for that fiscal year amounted to 3375 pesos. These vessels are
mostly small Moro craft which cannot venture upon distant cruises in the
archipelago for prospecting purposes, and their operations are confined
for the most part to the immediate vicinity of Jolo. Each vessel carries
one diver, a tender, a cook, and four sailors. In addition to food
supplies, the sailors and the cook each receive twelve to fifteen pesos
per month, the tender thirty to forty pesos per month, and the diver the
same amount and in addition thereto a bonus of twenty cents for each
shell secured. Near Jolo the vessels work throughout the year, but
farther north very little fishing is done from December to April, when
monsoons prevail. The man in charge of each vessel is obliged by law to
keep an accurate record of the number and weight of shells found, and
his figures are checked up by a customs official at either Jolo or
Zamboanga, the ports of discharge.

To enable them to secure pearl-oysters at depths of from twenty to forty
fathoms, the Sulus have long made use of a dredge (_badja_) peculiarly
constructed of native materials, and admirably adapted to the purpose.
This consists of five or more long wooden teeth slightly curved and
spreading outward, with an expanse at the ends of twenty inches or more.
The dredge is properly balanced by two stones, and a bridle rope is so
attached to it that, when thrown overboard and towed behind a canoe
drifting with the current or the wind, the implement rests on the curve
of the teeth, which are in almost a horizontal position. As the teeth
enter the gaping shell of an oyster lying on the bottom, the animal
instantly closes tightly on the intruder and effects its own capture.
The principle is similar to that of the “crowfoot” dredge of the
Mississippi River, although the design of the implement is radically
different. A second rope is attached so as to raise and lower the
implement and to detach it from corals, rocks, and other objects against
which it may catch in its course on the bottom. This dredge is designed
for very deep areas, where the bottom is relatively smooth.

The Moros employ yet another method of fishing, using a _magtung-tung_
or three-pronged catcher, which is let down by a rattan rope and by
means of which individual shells sighted from the surface are obtained.
When the water is perfectly clear this implement can be operated where
the depth is fifteen or eighteen fathoms, but its use is impractical
where the water is clouded or there is even a slight ripple on the
surface.

However, the bulk of the catch is made by the nude divers, of which
there are hundreds at Maimbun, Tapul, Lugus and elsewhere. In their
small boats these Moro fishermen visit the reefs, where the boats are
anchored. Provided only with a short, heavy knife, with which to release
the shells from the bottom or, perchance, as a weapon of defense against
sharks and other fish, they enter the water feet first, but soon turn
and descend head downward, precisely as on the Australian coast,
swimming toward the bottom with bold strokes. The Sulu pearl-divers—and
especially those at Parang, Patian and Sicubun—are among the most expert
in the world. They easily penetrate to twelve fathoms and, if necessary,
to eighteen or twenty fathoms. But they are not very industrious, and
seldom descend more than twelve or fifteen times a day, preferring
rather to go with their wants half satisfied than to satiate them by
more active exertions.

Many descents may be necessary to locate and obtain a single oyster, but
when this is secured the shell alone may ordinarily be traded for
sufficient to supply the fisherman’s needs for several days, and there
is always the chance of a pearl. After a short day of labor, the
fishermen return, and the oysters which they have secured are opened and
examined for pearls. After the flesh has been carefully searched it is
placed in the sun to dry and, later, to be used for food, and the shells
are carefully cleaned and placed under cover until they may be bartered
or sold.

The Sulu shell is characterized by a peculiar yellowish tint around the
rim, by means of which it is readily distinguished. Its size and
beautiful iridescence make it very attractive, and for choice individual
specimens high prices are received. It is the largest of the
mother-of-pearl shells, single half-shells of “bold” size average one
and one half pounds in weight, while some attain a weight of six pounds.
The body of the shell furnishes the most beautiful of all
mother-of-pearl, yet the necessity for discarding the yellow rim, or,
rather, for using it separate from the rest, makes it unpopular with
manufacturers. The annual product is estimated at 200 tons, valued in
London and New York at $200,000, and of pearls about $30,000 worth.

The Sulu pearls are frequently large and of choice quality, but they are
far more inclined to a yellowish tint than those from Australian waters,
1300 miles southward. The sultans accumulated the finest collection of
them, and some of these found their way into the markets from time to
time as the condition of the exchequer ran low or royal emergency
required, as in 1882, for instance, when it was necessary to defray the
expense of Sultan Buderoodin’s pilgrimage to Mecca. During the last six
or seven years, much has been heard of the present sultan’s collection,
which he largely inherited, and some fairly good specimens have been
presented to prominent Americans.

Pearl-oysters are among the important resources of the inshore waters of
the Dutch East Indies, including the surrounding seas of Sumatra, Java,
Borneo, Celebes, the Aru Islands, the Moluccas or Spice Islands, and
Papua or New Guinea. For very many years the natives have gathered pearl
shell and pearls from these waters, and especially on the coast of the
Aru Islands, at Gilolo or Halmahera, and the islands thereabout, on the
east coast of Celebes, and about the Sunda group. The collections were
made in the shallow waters by beach-combing and by nude diving, and were
bartered with the Chinese and Arab traders sailing from Singapore,
Macassar, and other ports. Occasionally a pearling vessel from Singapore
or from Torres Straits would try its luck in these waters; but, except
for the work of the natives, the reefs were practically untouched
previous to 1883.

As the Australian fleet increased in size and the oysters became scarce
in Torres Straits and on the northwest coast, some of the vessels
occasionally visited the Aru Islands, the coast of Papua, etc. These met
with considerable success and the number of trips increased, especially
in 1893, when oysters were unusually scarce in Australia.

The following year, 1894, the government restricted the fishery to
inhabitants of the Netherlands and of Netherlands India, or to companies
established in those countries and operating under the Dutch flag. Owing
to the activity of Dutch capital in coffee, tobacco and other plantation
enterprises, the pearl resources received very little attention from
them. The success of the Australian fishery encouraged the formation in
1896 of an Amsterdam company to exploit the Aru grounds; but apparently
without financial success, for it liquidated in 1898.

In the meantime, residents of these islands paid more and more attention
to the pearl fishery; also Europeans, Chinamen and Arabs arranged with
the native chiefs for fishing in their territorial waters, paying
therefor a fixed sum in cash or a percentage of the catch, which was
permitted on approval by the governor-general of Dutch India. The fleet
continued to increase from year to year, and in 1905 there was a very
large influx of vessels from the Australian fisheries, 110 luggers and 7
tenders coming from Thursday Island alone.

The species are the same as occur on the northern coast of Australia,
the “silver edge” or “golden lip” (_Margaritifera maxima_) occurring in
greatest abundance, and the “black lip” (_M. margaritifera_) to a less
extent.

The shells are the principal object of the search, and the pearls found
incidentally form an additional source of revenue. These shells divide
with those of Australia the reputation of being the most valuable in the
world. They are commonly known in the trade by the name of the port from
which they are originally shipped, as Manila, Macassar, Banda, Ceram,
Penang, Mergui, etc. Before the exploitation of the Australian grounds,
they sold at very high prices, and $2000 or more per ton was sometimes
realized for those of the best quality. Singapore is the headquarters
for supplies for the industry in all this region, and it is from that
port that the shells and pearls are mostly distributed.

The pearls obtained in Netherlands India are of choice quality and of
relatively large size, a considerable percentage of them weighing over
eight grains, and fairly good pearls of fifty grains or more are
occasionally reported. Colored pearls are rarely met with, nearly all of
them being clear white, like the beautiful Macassar shell.

At Pados Bay, island of Borneo, one hundred or more persons find
employment fishing the Placuna oysters, selling the shells for about $2
per picul (139 pounds to the picul), the dried meats at $4 to $6 a
picul, and the seed-pearls (_seleesip_) at about $2 per mayam. Many of
these pearls are sold in the village of Batu Batu. When a fisherman buys
his few necessaries at the Chinese shops, he pulls out his little
package of seed-pearls and pays in that currency, the Chinaman making a
good profit by the transaction.

 


X

AMERICAN PEARLS

VENEZUELA, PANAMA, MEXICO, AMERICAN FRESH WATERS, MISCELLANEOUS

 


X
PEARL FISHERIES OF VENEZUELA


When I discovered the Indies, I said that they composed the richest
country in the world. I spake of gold and pearls and precious
stones, and the traffic that might be carried on in them.

Extract from Columbus’s Fourth Letter.

The Caribbean Sea furnishes one of the most interesting chapters in the
history of the pearl fisheries. In no region of the world have these
resources caused more rapid exploitation or affected the inhabitants to
a greater extent than on the shores of Venezuela.

Before the discovery of America, the natives of this region collected
pearls from the mollusks which they opened for food in times of
necessity, and also sought them for ornamental purposes. And although
they had large collections which they used for personal ornamentation
and for decorating their temples, it does not appear that they prized
them extravagantly, readily bartering them for small returns.

In Columbus’s account of his third and fourth voyages to America, he
repeatedly refers to pearls. On the third voyage, in 1498, after passing
the mouth of the Orinoco River, he entered the Gulf of Paria, where the
natives “came to the ship in their canoes in countless numbers, many of
them wearing pieces of gold on their breasts, and some with bracelets of
pearls on their arms; seeing this I was much delighted and made many
inquiries with the view of learning where they found them. They replied
that they were to be procured in their own neighborhood and also at a
spot to the northward of that place. I would have remained here, but the
provisions of corn, and wine, and meats, which I had brought out with so
much care for the people whom I had left behind, were nearly wasted, so
that all my anxiety was to get them into a place of safety, and not to
stop for anything. I wished, however, to get some of the pearls that I
had seen, and with that view sent the boats on shore. I inquired there
also where the pearls were obtained. And they likewise directed me to
the westward and also to the north behind the country they occupied. I
did not put this information to the test, on account of the provisions
and the weakness of my eyes and because the ship was not calculated for
such an undertaking.”

In his letter to one of the queen’s attendants, written in 1500,
Columbus says, in justification of his conduct toward his miserable
detractors: “I believed that the voyage to Paria would in some degree
pacify them because of the pearls and the discovery of gold in the
island of Española. I left orders for the people to fish for pearls, and
called them together and made an agreement that I should return for
them, and I was given to understand that the supply would be abundant.”

And again in the same letter, after speaking of a quantity of gold which
mysteriously disappeared when Governor Bobadilla sent him and his
brothers loaded with chains to Spain, he says: “I have been yet more
concerned respecting the affair of the pearls, that I have not brought
them to their Majesties…. Already the road is opened to gold and
pearls, and it may surely be hoped that precious stones, spices, and a
thousand other things will also be found.”

A more detailed account of Columbus’s pearling adventures, and of the
subsequent discoveries and explorations on the Caribbean coast is given
by Francisco Lopez de Gomara in his “Historia general de las Indias,”
published in 1554, of which the following is a literal translation
slightly abridged:

Since there are pearls on more than four hundred leagues of this
coast between Cape Vela and the Gulf of Paria, before we proceed
farther it is proper to say who discovered them. In the third voyage
made by Christopher Columbus to the Indies, in 1498, having reached
the island of Cubagua, which he called “Isle of Pearls,” he sent a
boat with certain sailors to seize a boat of fishermen, to learn
what people they were and for what they were fishing. The sailors
reached the shore where the Indians had landed and were watching. A
sailor broke a dish of Malaga ware and went to trade with them and
to look at their catch, because he saw a woman with a string of
rough pearls (_aljofar_) on her neck. He made an exchange of the
plate for some strings of rough pearls, white and large, with which
the sailors returned highly delighted to the ships. To assure
himself better, Columbus ordered others to go with buttons, needles,
scissors, and fragments of the same Valencian earthenware, since
they seemed to prize it. These sailors went and brought back more
than six marcs (forty-eight ounces) of rough pearls, large and
small, with many good pearls among them. Said Columbus then to the
Spaniards: “We are in the richest country of the world. Let us give
thanks to the Lord.” They wondered at seeing all those rough pearls
so large, for they had never seen so many, and could not contain
their delight. They understood that the Indians did not care much
for the small ones, either because they had plenty of large ones, or
because they did not know how to pierce them.

Columbus left the island and approached the land, where many people
had collected along the shore, to see if they also had pearls. The
shore was covered with men, women, and children, who came to look at
the ships, a strange thing for them. Many Indians presently visited
the ships, went on board and stood amazed at the dress, swords, and
beards of the Spaniards, and the cannon, tackle, and arms of the
ship. Our people crossed themselves, and were delighted to see that
all those Indians wore pearls on their necks and wrists. Columbus
asked by signs where they fished them, and they pointed to the coast
and island.

Columbus then sent to the shore two boats with many Spaniards, for
greater certainty of those new riches, and because they importuned
him. The chief took them to a place where there was a circular
building that resembled a temple, where presently much bread and
fruits of different kinds were brought. At the end of the feast he
gave them pearls for sweetmeats, and took them afterward to the
palace to see the women and the arrangement of the house. Of the
numerous women there, not one was without rings of gold and
necklaces of pearls. The Spaniards returned to the ships, wandering
at such pearls and gold, and requested Columbus to leave them there.
But he did not wish to do so, saying they were too few to settle. He
hoisted sail and ran along the coast as far as Cape Vela, and from
there came to Santo Domingo, with the intention of returning to
Cubagua after regulating the affairs of the government. He
suppressed the joy he felt at having found such treasures, and did
not write to the king regarding the discovery of pearls, or at all
events did not write it until it was already known in Castile. This
was largely the cause for the anger of the king, and the order to
bring Columbus a prisoner to Spain. They say that he did not so much
intend to conceal this discovery from the king, who has many eyes,
as that he thought by a new agreement to get this rich island for
himself.

Of the sailors who went with Christopher Columbus when he found the
pearls, the greater number were from Palos. As soon as these came to
Spain, they told about the country of pearls, displayed many, and
carried them to Seville to sell, whence they went to the court and
into the palace. Excited by this report, some persons there
hurriedly prepared a ship and made Pedro Alonso Niño its captain. He
had from the Catholic king license to go in search of pearls and
land, provided he should not go within fifty leagues of any
discovered by Columbus.

Niño embarked in August, 1499, with thirty-three companions, some of
whom had been with Columbus. He sailed as far as Paria, visited the
coast of Cumana, Maracapan, Port Plechado, and Curiana, which lies
united to Venezuela. There he landed, and a chief, who came to the
coast with fifty Indians, conducted him amicably to a large town to
take water, refreshments, and the barter he was in search of. He
bartered for and secured fifteen ounces of pearls in exchange for
pins, rings of horn and tin, glass beads, small bells, and similar
trifles. The Spaniards stayed in the town twenty days, trading for
pearls. The natives gave a pigeon for a needle, a turtledove for one
glass bead, a pheasant for two, and a turkey for four. For that
price they also gave rabbits and quarters of deer. The Indians asked
to be shown the use of needles, since they went naked and could not
sew, and were told to extract the thorns with them, for they went
barefooted: Niño brought to Galicia ninety-six pounds of rough
pearls, among which were many fine, round, lustrous ones of five and
six carats, and some of more. But they were not well pierced, which
was a great fault. On the route a quarrel arose over the division,
and certain sailors accused Niño before the governor in Galicia,
saying that he had stolen many pearls and cheated the king in his
fifth, and traded in Cumana and other places where Columbus had
been. The governor seized Niño, but did not keep him in prison very
long, where he consumed pearls enough.[270]


This expedition of Pedro Alonso Niño was the first financially
profitable voyage to America. After his return, the Cubagua pearl
fishery became the object of numerous speculations, and many other
Spaniards fitted out voyages, most of them sailing from Hispaniola or
Haiti, nine hundred miles distant. Owing to the ill-treatment of the
Indians and excessive cruelties toward them, much difficulty was
experienced in securing divers. This was relieved in 1508 by
transporting large numbers of Indians from the Lucayan or Bahama Islands
and impressing them into the service. These were so expert in the work
that individuals sold for upward of 150 ducats each.[271] With their aid
the fishery prospered so greatly that in 1515 a settlement, called New
Cadiz, was established on Cubagua Island by the governor of Hispaniola,
Diego Columbus, son of the discoverer. This small island was dry and
desolate, without water or wood, which were brought from the mainland
twenty miles distant, or from Margarita Island about three miles to the
northward.

An interesting description of the manner of securing the pearls by these
early adventurers was given by Gonzalo Fernandez de Oviedo y Valdes
(1478–1557) in his “Historia natural y general de las Indias,” written
less than thirty years after the discovery of the mainland of America. A
translation of this book was published in 1555 by Richard Eden in his
“Decades of the New World”; from which we extract the following account,
the retention of Eden’s quaint phraseology seeming permissible owing to
this being one of the very earliest books on America.


_Of the maner of fyshynge for perles_

The Indians exercise this kynde of fyschynge for the moste parte in
the coastes of the North in _Cubagua_ and _Cumana_. And manye of
theym which dwell in the houses of certeyne particular lordes in the
Ilandes of _San Dominico_ and _Sancti Iohannis_, resort to the
Ilande of _Cubagua_ for this purpose. Theyr custome is to go fyve,
syxe, or seven, or more in one of theyr _Canoas_ or barkes erly in
the mornynge to sume place in the sea there about where it appeareth
unto them that there shulde bee greate plentie of those shell fyshes
(which sume caule muscles and sume oysters) wherein perles are
engendered. And there they plonge them selves under the water, even
unto the bottome, savynge one that remaynethe in the Canoa or boate
which he keepeth styll in one place as neare as he can, lookynge for
theyr returne owte of the water. And when one of them hath byn a
good whyle under the water, he ryseth up and commeth swymmynge to
the boate, enterynge into the same, and leavynge there all the
oysters whiche he hath taken and brought with hym. For in these, are
the perles founde. And when he hathe there rested hym selfe a whyle,
and eaten parte of the oysters, he returneth ageyne to the water,
where he remaynethe as longe as he can endure, and then ryseth
ageyne, and swimmeth to the boate with his pray, where he resteth
hym as before, and thus continueth course by course, as doo all the
other in lyke maner, being all moste experte swymmers and dyvers.
And when the nyght draweth neare, they returne to the Ilande to
theyr houses, and presente all the oysters to the master or stewarde
of the house of theyr lorde who hath charge of the sayde Indians.
And when he hath gyven them sumwhat to eate, he layeth up the
oysters in safe custodie untyll he have a great quantitie thereof.
Then hee causeth the same fyssher men to open them. And they fynde
in every of them pearles other great or smaul, two or three or
foure, and sumtymes five and syxe, and many smaule graines accordyng
to the lyberalitie of nature. They save the pearles bothe smaule and
great whiche they have founde: And eyther eate the oysters if they
wyl, or caste them away, havynge so great quantitie thereof that
they in maner abhorre them. Those oysters are of hard fleshe, and
not so pleasant in eatyng as are owres of Spayne. This Ilande of
_Cubagua_ where this manner of fysching is exercised, is in the
Northe coaste, and is no bygger then the Iland of Zelande.
Oftentymes the sea encreaseth greatly, and muche more then the
fyshers for pearles wold, bycause where as the place is very depe, a
man can not naturally rest at the bottome by reason of the
aboundaunce of aery substannce whiche is in hym, as I have
oftentymes proved. For althoughe he may by vyolence and force
descende to the bottome, yet are his feete lyfted up ageyne so that
he can continue no tyme there. And therefore where the sea is verye
deepe, these Indian fyshers use to tye two great stoones aboute them
with a corde, on every side one, by the weyght whereof they descend
to the bottome and remayne there untyl them lysteth to ryse ageine:
At which tyme they unlose the stones, and ryse uppe at their
pleasure. But this their aptenesse and agilitie in swimming, is not
the thynge that causeth men moste to marvaile: But rather to
consyder how many of them can stande in the bottome of the water for
the space of one hole houre and summe more or lesse, accordynge as
one is more apte hereunto then an other. An other thynge there is
whiche seemeth to me very straunge. And this is, that where as I
have oftentymes demaunded of summe of these lordes of the Indians,
if the place where they accustomed to fysche for pearles beynge but
lyttle and narrowe wyll not in shorte tyme bee utterly without
oysters if they consume them so faste, they al answered me, that
although they be consumed in one parte, yet if they go a fyschynge
in an other parte or on another coaste of the Ilande, or at an other
contrary wynd, and continue fysshing there also untyll the oysters
be lykewyse consumed, and then returne ageyne to the fyrste place,
or any other place where they fysshed before and emptied the same in
lyke maner, they find them ageine as ful of oysters as though they
had never bin fysshed. Wherby we may judge that these oysters eyther
remove from one place to an other as do other fysshes, or elles that
they are engendered and encrease in certeyne ordinaire places. This
Iland of _Cumana_ and _Cubagua_ where they fyshe for these perles,
is in the twelfe degree of the part of the said coaste which
inclineth toward the North.

The cupidity of the proprietors of the fishery led to most cruel
treatment of the divers and, if the accounts of the time are to be
relied upon, a large percentage of them died under the harsh regime.
About 1515 the unfortunate natives obtained an earnest and influential
advocate in Bartolomé de las Casas, who, in 1516, prevailed upon the
youthful Charles V to decree that the fishery should be prosecuted only
in summer, that the divers should not be required to work more than four
hours a day where the depth exceeded six fathoms, that they should
receive good nourishment and half a quart of wine daily, should have
hammocks or beds in which to sleep, and should be provided with clothes
to put on as soon as they left the water.[272] And by later ordinances
it was stipulated that death should be inflicted on any one forcing a
free Indian to dive for pearls.

In 1528 the resources of Coche Island were exploited with so much
success that within six months “1500 marcs (12,000 ounces) of pearls”
were secured. Pearl banks were successively found at Porlamar,
Maracapana, Curiano, and at various places on the coast from the Gulf of
Paria to the Gulf of Coro, a distance of over five hundred miles, which
became designated the “Pearl Coast.” For a number of years previous to
1530, the output exceeded in value 800,000 piastres annually,
approximating one half the produce of the American mines at that
time.[273] It was largely these pearls that enriched the cargoes of many
of those famous caravels that crossed the Atlantic to Spain. Indeed, for
several decades, America was best known in continental Europe as the
land whence the pearls came.

An interesting account of an early effort to use dredges in the Cubagua
pearl fishery was given by Girolamo Benzoni, who had lived in America
from 1542 to 1555, and was familiar with the conditions. He states:

“At the time the pearl fishery flourished on this island there came
here one Louis de Lampugnan with an imperial license authorizing him
to fish such quantities of pearls as he pleased within all the
limits and bounds of Cubagua. This man set out from Spain with four
caravels loaded with all the necessary provisions and munitions for
such an enterprise, which some Spanish merchants furnished him. He
had made a kind of rake, the fashion of which was such that in
whatever part of the sea it was used, not an oyster would escape. At
the same time he would have raked and drawn out all that bore pearls
if he had not been disappointed. But the Spaniards in Cubagua all
banded against him in the execution of his privilege. They said the
emperor was too liberal with other people’s goods, and if he wished
to give he might give his own as he wished. As for themselves they
had conquered and kept that country with great labor and at the
peril of their lives, and there were far better reasons why they
should enjoy it than a stranger. Poor Lampugnan, seeing that his
patents did not avail him the value of a straw, and at the same time
not daring to return to Spain, partly through fear of being
ridiculed and partly on account of the money he owed, was ruined. In
fact, the business and its anxieties drove him crazy and he was
exposed to the mockery of all the world as a lunatic. In the end,
after dragging out five years in this miserable condition, he died
in this isle of Cubagua.”[274]

The average size of these pearls derived from the Venezuelan fisheries
was small, specimens rarely exceeding twenty grains. In 1577, Urbain
Chauveton wrote: “The pearls of Cubagua are mostly 2, 3, 4, and 5
carats. But the quantity of them is so great that the fifth part which
is paid to the king of Spain yields every year the value of more than
15,000 ducats; this besides the frauds committed and the pearls which
stick to the fingers of those who manage the business, and who pilfer
the most beautiful in great numbers, sending them here and there for
sale. They place themselves in great danger if the facts become known,
but they do it all the same.”[275]

The enormous demands made by the Spaniards soon had its effect on the
resources, for Chauveton adds: “It is apparent they decrease and not so
many are found as in the beginning. The reason for this is that the
Spaniards are so eager to gather large quantities of them quickly that
they are not content to use their divers to search for them in the
depths of the sea, but they have conceived and invented I know not how
many machines of rakes and drags to scrape up everything. In fact they
have at times collected them all so that another could not be found, and
have had to abandon their fishing for a considerable time to give the
oysters a chance to lay their eggs and grow their pearls.”[276]

The decrease noted by Chauveton was probably not very serious, for the
Spanish historian, Jose de Acosta, reports that in 1581 he saw “the note
of what came from the Indies for the king; there were 18 marcs of
pearles, besides 3 caskets; and for private persons there were 1265
marcs, and besides them, 7 caskets not pierced, which heretofore we
would have esteemed and helde for a lie.”[277] Also the records show
that in 1597 Spain received from the Venezuelan fisheries “350 pounds’
weight of pearls.” It is to be regretted that the Spaniards so
frequently reported the yield of pearls by pounds’ weight, for—owing to
the great variation in quality—this is about as unsatisfactory as to
report the wealth of an individual by the pounds’ weight of his
title-deeds or of his stock certificates. The value of “350 pounds of
pearls” might have been anywhere from twenty thousand dollars to as many
millions. Assuming that all were two grains each in weight and of good
quality, the total value would approximate $600,000 according to the
valuation of that period; and on a basis of eight grains each, it would
be $9,600,000, or sixteen times as much. But as original parcels of
pearls from the fisheries, these figures should be divided by three.

Following 1597, the productiveness of the Cubagua beds rapidly
decreased. By acts of cruelty and oppression the Spaniards had converted
the surviving Indians into deadly foes, ready to take advantage of any
opportunity to avenge themselves on their oppressors, and thus
terrifying the settlers into abandoning the enterprise. Early in the
seventeenth century the development of mining resources in Mexico, Peru,
etc., attracted the adventurous Spaniards. A considerable decrease in
the value of pearls, brought about by the skilful manufacture of
imitations at Venice, and elsewhere in southern Europe, also affected
the prosperity of the fisheries. As a result of these combined
influences, the output in Venezuela was greatly reduced, and it ceased
long before the close of the following century. Thus ended an enterprise
which, for a number of years, represented the greatest single industry
of the European people on the American continent.

According to General Manuel Laudecta Rosales, the Venezuela archives
contain no reference to any renewal of the fishery until early in the
nineteenth century. At the time of Humboldt’s visit in 1799, the fishery
was entirely neglected around the islands of Margarita, Cubagua, and
Coche, and the only evidence of pearls was a few very insignificant ones
picked up about Cumana and sold among the natives at a piaster per
dozen.[278]

After the overthrow of Spanish authority on this coast, Messrs. Rundell,
Bridge and Rundell, a firm of well-known goldsmiths of London, obtained,
in 1823, from the government of Colombia, a ten-year monopoly of the
fishery at several places on the coast of the new republic, in
consideration of one fifth of the pearls secured.[279] After the
independence of Venezuela in 1829, the taxes imposed were so heavy that
the industry languished, and about 1833 it was practically abandoned.

Owing to the improved physical condition of the reefs, the fishery
developed largely in 1845; and for several years an average of 1600
ounces of pearls were secured, an ounce of good quality selling for 150
to 500 bolivars (one bolivar = 19½ cents), and the inferior quality at
80 to 100 bolivars.[280] At that time there was a tax of sixteen
bolivars per boat monthly. In 1853 this was increased to forty-eight
bolivars per boat, and the use of dredges (_arrastras_) was interdicted,
soon reducing the fishery to a very low stage. Subjected to frequent
changes in regulations, and burdened by heavy taxes, the industry
remained in poor condition until about 1895. Since then the enhanced
value of pearls, and the increased industrial activity on the coast, has
resulted in a very large development of the fishery.

In recent years the government of Venezuela has granted concessions to
individuals and to companies for the exploitation of defined areas for a
limited period, exacting 10 per cent. royalty on the proceeds of the
enterprise. In granting these concessions, the government usually
reserves the right to examine the books, and to intervene when necessary
in any phase of the enterprise. For protecting its revenue, the
government requires that shipments of the pearls must be signed by its
agent, and bills of sale must be countersigned by the Venezuelan consul
in the place where the sales are consummated.

The Venezuelan pearl fishery now gives employment to about 350 boats,
manned by five or six men each, sailing from the ports of Juan Griego,
Cumana, and Carupano. These are sail craft, measuring from two to
fifteen tons each, and are licensed by the Venezuelan authorities at a
charge of 15 bolivars ($2.92) each. Most of the boats use dredges, but
some of them resort to nude diving, after the manner of the sixteenth
century. Attempts have been made to use the scaphander, or diving armor,
but without success, owing largely to the difficulty in obtaining
experienced workmen, and also to local prejudice against this form of
fishery. It is claimed that in using the scaphander, all oysters are
removed from the reefs, whereas the _arrastra_ or dredge spreads the
oysters and thereby enlarges the reefs. This is the principal and,
except those at Sharks Bay and the Sulu Islands, the only important
pearl fishery in which the oysters are secured by means of dredges.
These are made of iron and are similar to those implements used in the
scallop fisheries of New York and Rhode Island. They are dragged over
the beds, and when filled are lifted and their contents emptied into the
boat, the fishermen culling out the desirable oysters from the mass and
throwing the refuse material overboard.

The pearl-oyster (_Margaritifera radiata_) secured on the coast of
Venezuela is closely related to the Ceylon species. It averages slightly
larger in size, and there is a much greater range in coloration. The
pearls are of good quality. In color they range from white to bronze,
and occasionally a so-called black one is found. The total output is
valued locally at about 1,750,000 francs ($350,000) per year. Most of
them are sold in Paris.

Owing to their small size and lack of thickness, the shells of the
Venezuela pearl-oyster are of little or no value in the mother-of-pearl
trade. Thousands of tons of them, the accumulations of scores of
fisheries, lie in heaps and ridges along the coast, as though in years
long past vast armies of oysters, engaged in deadly combat, had left
their innumerable myriads of slain comrades to bleach on the shores.


THE PANAMA PEARL FISHERIES

The bordring Ilands, seated here in ken,
Whose Shores are sprinkled with rich Orient Pearle,
More bright of hew than were the Margarets
That Caesar found in wealthy Albion.

ROBERT GREENE, _Orlando Furioso_ (1594).

From the point of view of the Spaniards of his day, the greatest result
of Balboa’s immortal journey in 1513 across the Isthmus of Panama to the
broad waters of the Pacific, was the discovery of the pearl resources of
the Gulf of St. Michael, now known as the Gulf of Panama. Probably the
best description of this is given by Lopez de Gomara in his “Historia
general de las Indias,” published in 1554, from which we translate the
following account.

After Balboa had reached the Pacific in 1513, he proceeded a short
distance along the coast until he met with an Indian chief by the name
of Tomaco. Being questioned about the gold and pearls which some of his
people wore, Tomaco sent for some gold and 240 large pearls and a great
number of small ones—a rich present, which filled the Spaniards with
pleasure. Seeing the Spaniards so delighted, Tomaco ordered some of his
men to go and fish for pearls. These went and in a few days obtained 64
ounces, which also he gave them. The Spaniards were surprised to see
such pearls, and that their owners did not value them; they not only
gave them away, but their paddles were decorated therewith, for the
principal income and wealth of these chiefs was the pearl fishery.
Tomaco told Balboa that these riches were nothing in comparison with
those of Tararequi, which had pearls larger than a man’s eye, taken from
oysters the size of sombreros. The Spaniards wished to go there at once,
but fearing another tempest, left it for their return. They dismissed
Tomaco and rested in the country of Chiape, who, at the request of
Balboa, sent thirty of his men to fish. These did it in the presence of
seven Spaniards, who looked on and saw them take six loads of small
shells. As it was not the season for that fishery, they did not go into
very deep water where the shells were. Not only did they not fish in
September and the following months, but they did not even travel by
water, on account of the stormy weather which then prevails in that sea.
The pearls which they extracted from those shells were like peas, but
very fine and white. Of those received from Tomaco, some were black,
others green, blue, and yellow.

On the return of Balboa’s expedition to Darien in 1514, the sight of the
pearls and the wonderful reports made by the men, caused his successor,
Pedrarias, to fit out another expedition, an account of which we
likewise translate from Gomara.

By command of Pedrarias, Gaspar de Morales went in the year 1515 to
the Gulf of St. Michael, with 550 Spaniards, in quest of the island
of Tararequi, which was said by Balboa’s men to be so abundant in
pearls and so near the coast. The chief of that island sallied forth
with many people to prevent his entrance, and clamored and fought
three times with our people on equal terms, but the fourth time he
was defeated. He then made friends, carried the chief of the
Spaniards to his house, which was a large and good one, gave him
food to eat, and a basket of pearls which weighed 110 marcs [880
ounces]. The chief received for them some looking-glasses, stringed
beads, bells, scissors, axes, and small wares of barter, which he
valued more than he had the pearls. He promised to give as tribute
to the emperor, in whose guardianship he placed himself, 100 marcs
of pearls every year. With these the Spaniards returned to the Gulf
of St. Michael and from thence to Darien.

Tararequi is within five degrees of the equator. It possessed a
great fishery for pearls, which are the largest and best of the new
world. Many of the pearls which the cacique gave were like filberts,
others like nutmegs, and there was one of 26 and another of 31
carats, pear-shaped, very lustrous, and most perfect, which Peter of
the Port, a shop-keeper, bought of Gaspar de Morales for 12,000
castilians. The purchaser could not sleep that night for thinking on
the fact that he had given so much money for one stone, and so he
sold it the very next day to Pedrarias de Avila, for his wife Donna
Isabel de Bovadilla, at the same price, and afterwards the Bovadilla
sold it to Donna Isabella the Empress.

Pedrarias, who delighted in such fishery, requested the cacique to
make his men fish for pearls in the presence of the Spaniards. The
fishermen were great swimmers and divers, and seemed to have spent
all their lives in that employment. They went in small boats when
the sea was calm, and not in any other manner. They cast a stone for
an anchor from each canoe, tied by strong, flexible withes like
boughs of the hazel. They plunged to search for oysters each with a
sack or bag at the neck, and returned loaded with them. They entered
four, six, and even ten fathoms of water, for the shell is larger
the deeper they go, and if at times the larger ones come in shallow
water it is through storms, or because they go from one place to
another in search for food, and having found their pasture they stay
there until they have finished it. They perceive those who search
for them, and stick so close to the rocks or ground, or one to
another, that much strength is needed to detach them, and many times
the fishermen cannot raise them and leave them, thinking they are
stones. In this fishery many persons are drowned, either by
remaining too long at the bottom, or because they become entwined or
entangled in the cord, or such carnivorous fish as the shark devour
them. This is the manner of fishing pearls in all the Indies, and
many fishermen die from the dangers aforesaid, and from the
excessive and constant labor, the little food, and the maltreatment
they have. The emperor was led to enact a law among those whom
Blasco Nunez Vela brought, which imposed the penalty of death upon
him who should forcibly compel any free Indian to fish for pearls.
He thought more of the lives of the men than of his interest in
pearls, though they were of great value. The law was worthy of such
a prince and of perpetual memory.[281]

Gonzalo de Oviedo referred to the pearl resources of Panama in his
“Historia natural de las Indias,” Toledo, 1526, mentioned in the chapter
on pearl fisheries of Venezuela. After describing the resources of
Cubagua and Cumana on the Venezuelan coast, he states, according to
Eden’s quaint translation:

Lykewise pearles are founde and gathered in the South sea cauled
_mare del sur_. And the pearles of this sea [the Caribbean coast]
are verye bygge. Yet not so bigge as they of the Ilande of pearles
cauled _de las perlas_, or _Margaritea_, whiche the Indians caule
_Terarequi_, lying in the gulfe of saincte Michael, where greater
pearles are founde and of greater price then in any other coaste of
the Northe sea, in _Cumana_, or any other porte. I speake this as a
trewe testimonie of syght, havyng byn longe in that South sea, and
makynge curious inquisition to bee certenly informed of all that
perteyneth to the fysshvnge of perles. From this Ilande of
Tararequi, there was brought a pearle of the fasshyon of a peare,
wayinge xxxi carattes, which Petrus Arias had amonge a thousande and
soo many poundes weight of other pearles which hee had when
capitayne Gaspar Morales (before Petrus Arias) passed to the saide
Ilande in the yeare 1515, which pearle was of great prise. From the
saide Ilande also, came a great and verye rounde pearle, whiche I
brought owte of the sea. This was as bygge as a smaule pellet of a
stone bowe, and of the weight of xxvi carattes. I boughte it in the
citie of Panama in the sea of Sur: and paide for it syxe hundredth
and fyftie tymes the weyght therof of good gold,[282] and had it
thre yeares in my custodie: and after my returne into Spaine, soulde
it to the erle of Nansao, Marquisse of Zenete, great chamberleyne to
youre maiestie, who gave it to the Marquesse his wyfe, the ladye
Mentia of Mendozza. I thyncke verely that this pearle was the
greatest, fayrest, and roundest that hath byn seene in those partes.
For youre maiestie owght to understande that in the coaste of the
sea of Sur, there are founde a hundredth great pearles rounde after
the fasshyon of peare, to one that is perfectly rounde and greate.
This Iland of Terarequi which the Christians caule the Ilande of
pearles, and other caule it the Ilande of floures, is founde in the
eyght degree on the southe syde of the firme lande in the provynce
of golden Castyle or Beragua. (Arber, “The First Three English Books
on America,” Birmingham, 1885.)

In addition to the gems noted by Oviedo, these waters furnished many
other beautiful pearls in the sixteenth century, and added largely to
the collections of the Spanish court and of the cathedrals of Seville,
Toledo, etc. The Italian traveler, Gemelli-Careri, who visited the
Panama fisheries in 1697, reported that they yielded pearls equal to
those of Ceylon. He mentioned one weighing 60 grains, for which the
owner—a Jesuit priest—refused 70,000 pesos.[283]

In 1735, the Spanish admiral, Antonio de Ulloa visited the Panama pearl
fisheries and wrote an extended description of them.[284] According to
his account the pearls were then found in such plenty that there were
few slaveholders in the vicinity who did not employ at least a portion
of their Negroes in the fishery. These were selected for their dexterity
in diving, and were sent to the islands in gangs of from eight to twenty
men each, under the command of an overseer. They lived in temporary huts
on the shore, and visited the pearl reefs in small boats. Anchoring in
eight or ten fathoms of water, the Negroes would, dive in succession to
the bottom, returning with as many oysters as possible. It was laborious
work, attended with danger owing to the numerous sharks.

Every one of these Negro divers is obliged daily to deliver to his
master a fixed number of pearls; so that when they have got the
requisite number of oysters in their bag, they begin to open them,
and deliver the pearls to the officer, till they have made up the
number due to their master; and if the pearl be but formed, it is
sufficient, without any regard to its being small or faulty. The
remainder, however large or beautiful, are the Negro’s own property,
nor has the master the least claim to them, the slaves being allowed
to sell them to whom they please, though the master generally
purchases them at a very small price…. Some of these pearls,
though indeed but few, are sent to Europe, the greater part being
carried to Lima, where the demand for them is very great, being not
only universally worn there by all persons of rank, but also sent
from thence to the inland portions of Peru.[285]

During the hundred years following, the pearl reefs of Panama were not
very productive, and relatively little attention was paid to them. The
development of a market for the shells in the mother-of-pearl trade,
about 1840, enhanced the profits of the few natives engaged in pearling
in a desultory manner, and led to an increase in the number of
fishermen. During some years when industrial and market conditions were
favorable, large quantities of shells were exported. In 1855, for
instance, 650 tons of these shells were shipped to England alone, and in
1859 the reported quantity was 957 tons. Those from the Island of San
José, one of the Pearl Archipelago, were said to be the largest and
choicest in the bay. Many of them were used in decorating the twin
towers of the stately old cathedral at Panama.

Since then the industry has fluctuated greatly, depending on the market
for the shell. Many outsiders have experimented in the fishery, but most
of these attempts have resulted in financial loss, through
mismanagement, storms, sickness, or other causes. A story is told
locally of a party of thirty men, principally from Scotland, who arrived
at Panama equipped with a diving-bell and such necessary machinery as
air-pumps, windlasses, etc. Much was expected of their operations, but
soon yellow fever broke out among them, and within six weeks two thirds
of the members of the party had died. The remaining members, becoming
disheartened, and in fear of the dread disease, lost no time in leaving
the country. The diving-bell and machinery remained for several years as
a curiosity at Panama, for no one returned to claim them, nor has the
use of similar apparatus been attempted since then.

The scattered pearl reefs extend from the east side of the Bay of Panama
nearly to the Costa Rica boundary. However, this gives an exaggerated
idea of their area, as much of this territory yields no pearl-oysters
whatever. The principal reefs and the headquarters of the fishery are at
Archipelago de las Perlas or Pearl Islands, which are from thirty to
sixty miles southeast of the Pacific terminus of the projected Panama
Canal. This archipelago contains sixteen small islands, on which are
about twice that number of small settlements of Negro and Indian
descendants, with a total population of perhaps one thousand. About half
of these live on Isla del Rey, the largest island, about fifteen miles
long and half that in width. The chief village, San Miguel, is the
center of the pearling industry, and consists mostly of palm-thatched
huts and a handsome stone church, more costly than all the remaining
buildings of the town combined. While the soil is fertile and some
vegetables are raised, the inhabitants depend almost wholly on the
fisheries.

In 1901, the Republic of Colombia invited bids for the right to operate
the pearl and coral fisheries for a term of fifteen years, but nothing
seems to have come of it, and the establishment of the Panama Republic
in 1903 terminated the authority of Colombia in these resources.

The Panama fisheries differ widely in their character from those of
Venezuela. The mollusk is much larger, averaging about six inches in
diameter when fully grown, thus furnishing a valuable quality of
mother-of-pearl. The shell constitutes the principal object of the
fishery; the pearls themselves are of incidental importance, but are
always looked for and anxiously expected.

The season extends from May to November, with a rest during the
remaining five months of the year. The fishery is open to natives and to
foreigners alike. While the leading fishermen employ diving-suits, which
were introduced here about 1890, nude diving is yet practised to a
considerable extent, the men descending in eight or ten, and some even
in twelve fathoms of water. There is no restriction whatever on the nude
fishermen, but for each machine diver an annual license fee of $125
United States currency is exacted.

Owing to the low market price for Panama shell during recent years, the
fishery has not been vigorously prosecuted, and it has even dwindled to
low proportions. A letter from one of the leading pearling companies in
Panama states that the machine divers number about twenty, while there
are about four hundred nude fishermen; and another firm likewise
prominent, estimates these fishermen at twenty and three hundred
respectively.

Yet a third pearling company writes that there are fifteen machine
divers and two hundred head divers; and adds that the small demand for
this quality of mother-of-pearl has made the condition of the industry
about as bad as it could be; many who have capital invested are getting
out of the business, and unless the market improves, the industry may be
abandoned. Probably with the introduction of new capital and methods in
the infant republic, the pearl resources may receive greater attention
and a large development ensue.

The Panama pearls are of good quality and frequently of large size. In
color they range from white to green and lead-gray, and frequently
greenish black. Valuable pearls are not common, but occasionally the
fisherman is amply rewarded. A letter from the American consul at Panama
states that in 1899 a native boy, fifteen years old, fishing in shallow
water, as much for sport as for profit, found a pearl which he sold to a
local speculator for 4000 silver dollars ($1760); this speculator
delivered the same pearl to a dealer in Panama for 10,000 silver dollars
($4400), and an offer of 30,000 francs was refused for it later in
Paris. A pearl worth $2400 was reported as found within half a mile of
the steamship anchorage at Panama. A pearl from a giant oyster
resembling Tridacna, was an absolute egg-shape, pure cocoanut white, and
weighed 169 grains; it was 21 mm. at the longest and 16.5 mm. at the
narrowest part. The surface showed very distinctly a wavy structure,
occasionally with a tiny, brighter central point; the surface under the
glass resembling a honeycomb network. At the smallest point there was a
radiated center with quite a brilliant field. It was worth only $100.

Not always, however, does the poor, ignorant fisherman receive the full
value of his find; and many a story is told of some thoughtless
improvident native, who, for less than a mess of pottage, “like the base
Indian, threw a pearl away, richer than half his tribe.”

Most of the Panama pearls are sold in Paris, relatively few of them
coming to America direct. This is not because of any greater estimation
of them in Paris or higher prices obtained; but the trade relation has
been long continued and the credits are well established. From Paris
many of these pearls reach the American market.


THE PEARL FISHERIES OF MEXICO

Then, too, the pearl from out its shell,
Unsightly in the sunless sea,
(As ’twere a spirit, forced to dwell
In form unlovely) was set free,
And round the neck of woman threw
A light it lent and borrowed too.

THOMAS MOORE, _The Loves of the Angels_.

Pearl-bearing oysters are found at various places on the Pacific coast
of Mexico, and especially along the coast of Lower California, where
extensive fisheries are prosecuted. The pearls are noted for the great
variety of colors which they display. A large percentage are black,
others are white, brown, peacock green, etc. Generally they are small
and of irregular form, yet sometimes very large ones are secured,
weighing 100, 200, and even 300 grains.

European knowledge of the pearl resources of Mexico dates from the
conquest of that country by Hernando Cortés about 1522. The diary of his
lieutenant, Fortuno Ximines, tells of finding native chiefs living in
primitive huts along the sea-shore, with quantities of beautiful pearls
lying carelessly around. From a tribe near the present site of
Hermosillo, in the State of Sonora, Cortés secured great quantities of
the gems. It appeared that the fishery had been in existence for
centuries. The location of the pearl reefs was prominently noted on
Cortés’ map of this coast, made in 1535, a copy of which was procured by
the Rev. Edward E. Hale when in Spain in 1883.

Following Cortés’ explorations of the Pacific coast of Mexico
(1533–1538), a number of expeditions were fitted out for securing pearls
by trading with the natives, by forcing them to fish, and by even more
questionable means. Several of these expeditions found record in history
either by reason of their unusual success or through the extreme cruelty
with which they were conducted. The contact of the Spaniards with the
Indians resulted in very bitter feelings on the part of the latter, so
that it became risky for small traders to venture among them. From time
to time, successful expeditions were made, especially the one of 200 men
sent in 1596 by the viceroy of Mexico to “the rich Isles of California,”
mentioned by Teixeira.[286] Antonio de Castillo, a Spanish colonist,
with headquarters south of Mazatlan, was one of the most successful of
the early adventurers, and Iturbide Ortega and José Carborel were also
among the fortunate ones of that period.[287] Ortega marketed his pearls
in the city of Mexico, and the reported sale of one for 4500 dollars had
considerable effect in stimulating the industry.

The advent of the Jesuits to western Mexico in 1642, developed amicable
relations with the Indians; and although the missionaries were
agriculturists rather than fishermen, the restoration of harmony
resulted in a more favorable prosecution of the fisheries. The colonists
of Sinaloa and Nueva Galicia, who had formerly, in small vessels and
with great danger, made occasional visits to the pearl beds, built
larger vessels and made more frequent visits without apprehension. The
skilful Yaqui and Mayo Indians were employed or impressed as divers,
just as natives of the Bahamas had served in the fisheries of Venezuela.
Great profits resulted from the operations. Venegas wrote that “it was
certain that the fifth of every vessel was yearly farmed for 12,000
dollars.”[288]

So profitable was the fishery that the Spanish soldiers and sailors
stationed in the Gulf of Cortes—as the Gulf of California was then
called—were frequently charged with devoting more attention to pearling
than to their official duties. In order to put a stop to this evil, in
1704, Father Silva-Tierra, who was in authority in that part of the
country, ordered that no soldier or sailor should engage in the fishery.
With a view to removing the demoralizing influences of promiscuous
adventurers among the Indians, the industry was later restricted to
persons specially authorized.

Probably the most successful of the early pearlers was Manuel Osio, who
is credited with having marketed “127 pounds’ weight of pearls in 1743,”
and “275 pounds’ weight” in 1744.[289] He operated in the vicinity of
Mulege and northward, employing the Yaqui Indians; and through his
pearling interests is said to have become the richest man in Lower
California.

The revenue from the royal fifth, somewhat later, was reported by
Alvarado[290] at 12,000 dollars per year; but this was disputed by Jacob
Baegert, a Jesuit priest. Baegert spent seventeen years in Mexico and,
returning to Europe on the expulsion of his order from that country in
1767, published a report in 1772, containing rather an unfavorable view
of the fishery. He stated that each summer eight, ten, or twelve poor
Spaniards from Sonora, Sinaloa, and elsewhere on the mainland, crossed
the gulf in small boats to the California shore for the purpose of
obtaining pearls. They carried supplies of Indian corn and dried beef,
and also a number of Indians who served as divers, the Spaniards
themselves showing little inclination to engage in the work when native
fishermen could be employed so cheaply. Provided with a sack for
receiving the oysters which they removed from the bottom, the fishermen
dived head first into the sea, and when they could no longer hold their
breath they ascended with the gathered treasure. The oysters were
counted before opening; and, when the law was complied with, every fifth
one was put aside for the king’s revenue. Most of the oysters yielded no
pearls; some contained black pearls, others white ones, the latter
usually small and ill-shaped. If, after six or eight weeks of hard labor
and deducting all expenses, a Spaniard gained a hundred American pesos,
he thought he had made a little fortune, but this he could not do every
season. “God knows,” said Baegert, “whether a fifth of the pearls
secured in the California sea yields to the Catholic king an average of
150 or 200 pesos in a year, even without frauds in the transaction. I
heard of only two persons—with whom also I was personally acquainted—who
had accumulated some wealth, after spending 20 or more years in the
business. The others remained poor notwithstanding their pearl
fishing.”[291]

Father Baegert’s statement of the returns seems to be substantiated by
the reports of the royal fifth a few years later. For the period from
1792 to 1796 this was placed at “2 lbs. 2 ozs.” by some writers; and
according to others, from 1788 to 1797 it amounted to only “3 lbs. 9
ozs.,” which is the quantity assigned by some accounts to 1797
alone.[292] These returns apparently indicate that a great decrease had
occurred since the days of Osio; but it seems very doubtful whether,
under the conditions existing in Mexico at that time, the royal treasury
received its due share of the proceeds.

Shortly following the independence of Mexico in 1821, and after a period
of little activity, several attempts were made to exploit the pearl
resources. The great prosperity in England, ensuing upon the termination
of the Napoleonic Wars, resulted in much speculation and the promotion
of stock subscriptions in many visionary schemes. Among these was “The
General Pearl and Coral-Fishing Association of London,” which in 1825
equipped and sent out to Mexico, by way of Cape Horn, two vessels
prepared to exploit the pearl resources by the use of diving-bells
similar to those formerly employed in submarine construction. This
expedition was under the direction of Lieutenant R. W. H. Hardy, whose
report thereon presents an interesting exhibit of the condition of the
pearl fishery at that time.

Hardy found the fishery at a very low ebb, owing, largely, to the
scarcity of oysters and the uncertainty of depending on the native
divers. He adds with peculiar naïveté: “I had almost forgotten to
mention a very curious circumstance with respect to the pearl-oyster,
namely that on the coast of Sonora there are none at all, except at
Guaymas.” He states also that to the northward of 28° 30′ not the trace
of a shell could be discovered on either side of the gulf.

The center of the industry was then at Loreto, a village of 250
inhabitants; but another small station existed at La Paz. At Loreto six
or eight vessels of twenty-five tons each were employed, each having
three or four sailors and fifteen or twenty Yaqui Indians who served as
divers. Head-diving was in vogue, the work proceeding from 11 A.M. to 2
P.M., and the depth ranging from three to twelve fathoms. The annual
catch of pearls was “4 or 5 pounds’ weight, worth from $8000 to
$10,000.”[293] After the government’s claim of one fifth had been set
apart, the owner and captain of the vessel received one half and the
divers the other half.

It was found impossible to use diving-bells when the sea was at all
rough, and even during calm weather they were impracticable on account
of the unevenness of the ground and the strong undercurrents. An effort
was made to employ native divers, but owing to the disorganized state of
affairs only four could be secured. In the Gulf of Mulege a large number
of oysters were collected, but when these were opened “six very small
pearls” were all that could be found. After spending about three years
on the coast, Hardy returned to England, and the company abandoned the
enterprise.

In the early history of the Mexican pearl fishery, the shells were of no
market value; but about 1830 a French trader named Combier made
experimental shipments to France, securing cheap freight rates by using
the waste shells largely as ballast for the vessels.[294] The best
quality sold for about 600 francs per ton, and the market was found
sufficient for regular shipments. The value gradually increased, and in
1854 it approximated 2000 francs per ton in France, placing the industry
upon a very remunerative basis. This resulted in much activity in the
fishery, and an increase in the number of boats and divers.

In 1855, the fishery gave employment to 368 divers, and yielded $23,800
worth of pearls, and 350 tons of shells worth $13,500.[295] It was
estimated by Lassepas that from 1580 to 1857, inclusive, 95,000 tons of
oysters were removed from the Gulf of California, yielding 2770 pounds
of pearls, worth $5,540,000.[296]

For protection of the reefs, the Mexican government in 1857 divided the
Gulf of California into four pearling districts, and provided that only
one of them should be worked each year, and then only in areas leased
for the season to the highest bidders, thereby permitting the reefs
successively to remain undisturbed for three years.

The yield of pearls in 1868 approximated $55,000, and that of shells
$10,600 in value; while in 1869 these items were given as $62,000 and
$25,000, respectively.[297] The local prices ranged from $15 per ounce
for seed-pearls to $1500 for a choice gem.

At that period the fishery was carried on from shore camps or from large
vessels, each carrying twenty to fifty divers, who were mostly Yaqui
Indians from the eastern shore of the gulf. The camp or vessel was
located in the vicinity of the reefs or beds, and the fishing was
prosecuted from small boats, each carrying three or four nude divers.
Fastened to the waist or suspended from the neck was a net for the
reception of oysters, and each diver carried a short spud or stick with
which to detach them from the bottom, and to some extent for use as a
weapon of defense against sharks and similar enemies. The diving
progressed mostly in the morning, when the sea was unruffled by the
breeze which usually begins shortly after noon. The season lasted from
May to late in September, when the water became too cold for further
operations.

The divers were paid a definite share of the catch, and kept in
debt-bondage by means of advances and supplies. Little clothing was
necessary, and the provisions consisted principally of corn, beans, and
sun-dried beef. Luxuries were added in the form of tobacco, and of
mescal distilled from the maguey plant, indulgence in these constituting
the chief remuneration for the season’s labor. The finding of an
unusually choice pearl brought to the lucky fisherman a gratuity of a
few dollars, and shore leave for several days in which to spend it.
Dressing in his best calico garments, he hastened to the nearest town to
indulge in release from restraint, in drunkenness and debauchery—the
highest dreams of happiness of a Yaqui Indian—thoughts of which served
to bring him to the fishery each year from his home across the gulf.

From the Spanish conquest until 1874, the Mexican pearl fishery was
conducted exclusively by nude divers. The experiments with the
diving-bell in 1825 had been without favorable result, and also an
attempt by an American in 1854 to use a diving-suit with air-pump, etc.,
this failure being credited to imperfection of apparatus. In 1874,
through the influence of European pearl merchants, two schooners, each
of about 200 tons’ measurement, one from Australia and the other from
England, visited the Mexican grounds, with a dozen boats fully equipped
with scaphanders or diving armor, including helmets, rubber suits,
pumps, etc. Owing to their working in deeper water than the nude divers
were able to exploit, their success was remarkable, and they secured
upward of a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of pearls and shells during
the first season.

The hitherto somnolent inhabitants of Lower California were amazed at
seeing their resources thus easily removed, and were awakened to the
opportunities afforded them to acquire the wealth which nature had
scattered at their very doors. With this object-lesson before them,
companies were formed for raising sufficient capital for the business,
and the leading operators equipped their men with scaphanders, to the
great annoyance of the would-be independent fishermen, who had not
sufficient means to purchase the costly equipment. Many of these
continued to employ nude divers, but after 1880 this method of fishery
was subordinate to the use of diving apparatus. The change was
accompanied by many accidents, and rarely did a month pass without the
loss of a man, due in most cases to faulty apparatus or to inexperienced
management.

In 1884 President Gonzalez inaugurated the policy of granting exclusive
concessions to the pearl reefs. On February 28 of that year, five
concessions were granted to as many persons, giving them and their
associates and assigns the exclusive right to all shell fisheries in
their respective zones of large area, for a period of sixteen years, in
consideration of a royalty and export duty, amounting altogether to
about $10 per ton of shells exported in the first three years, and $15
per ton for the remaining thirteen years of the term. Immediately these
five grants were consolidated, forming the Lower California Pearl
Fishing Company (“Compañia Perlífera de la Baja California”),
incorporated under the laws of California with an invested capital of
$100,000.

Other concessions were given covering the ocean shore of Lower
California, the eastern side of the gulf within the States of Sonora and
Sinaloa, and the ocean shore of Mexico southward from Sinaloa. In
addition to these, certain territorial rights of fishing are claimed
through grants dating back very early in the history of the country. So
eagerly have these concessions been sought in recent years, that there
is now little pearling ground on the coast which is not under corporate
or private claim. And, owing to speculation in these concessions and in
the formation of companies to develop them, it is somewhat difficult to
obtain wholly reliable data relative to the condition and extent of the
industry.

Two species of pearl-bearing mollusks occur on the Mexican coast. The
principal one is the _M. margaritifera mazatlanica_, known locally as
the _concha de perla fina_. This species is closely related to the
“black lip shell” of the Australian coast. It is considerably larger
than the Venezuelan oyster, averaging four or five inches in diameter
and attaining an extreme diameter of seven or possibly eight inches. It
occurs to some extent all along the Pacific coast of Mexico, in detached
beds intercalated in places. The principal reefs, which have been
exploited for nearly four centuries, are in the shallow waters of the
Gulf of California and especially within the 300 miles between Cape San
Lucas and Mulege Bay. The fisheries have centered about the islands of
Cerralvo, Espiritu Santo, Carmen, and San José, and in the bays of
Mulege, Ventana, and San Lorenzo. The depth of water on the reefs ranges
from two to twenty-five fathoms, with an average of probably six or
eight fathoms. The species is generally isolated, and firmly attached by
the byssus to the bottom rocks or the stone corals, from which it may
remove in case of necessity, though it probably does not do so
frequently.

The second species is known locally under the name _concha nacar_, and
has been named _Margaritifera_ (_Avicula_) _vinesi_ (Rochebonne).[298]
It occurs only in the northern part of the gulf near the mouth of the
Colorado River. Formerly it was abundant in that region, occurring in
large areas, but it has become much reduced and is now little sought
after. It is claimed that this species is far more productive of pearls
than the _M. margaritifera_, and that it yielded the large quantities
obtained by Osio in the eighteenth century. Although iridescent, the
shell is so thin and convex that it is without commercial value.

The headquarters of the Mexican pearl fishery are at La Paz, the capital
of Lower California, 240 miles northwest of Mazatlan and 150 miles north
of Cape San Lucas. This “Mantle of Peace”—the literal translation of La
Paz—contains about 5000 inhabitants, nearly all of whom are more or less
dependent on the pearl fishery. It presents an attractive picture, with
the cocoanut-palms extending down almost to the water’s edge, and the
high mountains forming a background. The low, stone houses, the tile
roofs, the plaza with tropical trees, and the beautiful flower beds
under perennial sunny skies, give it a quaint appearance. The most
conspicuous objects from the harbor are the large old warehouses, with
thick walls and iron-barred windows, for the storage of the pearls and
the shells. During the season, from April to November, the arrival and
departure of the pearling vessels presents a scene of great animation.

The present methods of the fishery on the Mexican coast are quite
different from those of thirty years ago when nude diving was the only
method in vogue. Instead of the haphazard work, largely in shallow
water, the industry is conducted systematically, and the limit of depth
is increased, much of the diving being in depths of ten to fifteen
fathoms. The fishermen operate either from a large vessel making a
cruise two or three months in length, or from a camp on the shore near
the reefs. A vessel visits them frequently to furnish supplies and to
transport the catch to La Paz. The fishing boats are undecked craft,
each equipped with an air-pump and a crew of six men: a diver, a _cabo
de vida_ or life-line man, who is usually the captain, two _bomberos_ at
the air-pump, and two rowers.

The greatest depth at which armored diving is attempted in Mexico rarely
exceeds twenty fathoms; twenty-five fathoms is fully as deep as it is
practicable to go, and it is not advisable to remain at that depth more
than a very few minutes. At fifteen fathoms a diver may remain half an
hour or more, and at six or eight fathoms he may work uninterruptedly
for several hours. When the water is very cold, the diver comes up
frequently to restore his numbed circulation by vigorous rubbing. The
occupation is especially conducive to rheumatism, and paralysis is more
or less general, due, not only to the compressed atmosphere, but to the
abrupt changes of temperature. The work is very debilitating, with
particular effect on the nerves, and partial deafness is common. It is
important that the diver be careful about overeating before descending,
as heavy foods, and meats especially, make respiration difficult;
therefore, breakfast consists of little more than bread and coffee. The
risks and dangers from sharks, devil-fish, etc., have greatly diminished
since the introduction of scaphanders; for a stout diver in his
waterproof dress, with leads on the breast, shoulders, and shoes, and on
his head a massive helmet containing great gaping windows for eyes, is
enough to cause even a hungry shark to hesitate and to seek a more
digestible meal.

There are yet many nude divers in Mexico, who operate in shallow waters,
their cheap labor making them successful competitors of the armored
divers. In arranging with these, the pearling company commonly
grub-stakes a crew, pays a stipulated sum per hundredweight for the
shells, and bargains for the pearls. If the fishermen are not satisfied
with the price offered for these, they are at liberty to sell to other
buyers under certain restrictions.

Nude diving is confined to the warm months, beginning about the middle
of May and continuing until October. Owing to the cloudy or muddy
condition of the water in the gulf, the nude diver can not inspect the
bottom from the surface and select the best oysters before descending,
nor can he work satisfactorily at depths greater than seven or eight
fathoms. While the work is hard, it is more remunerative than the
average branch of labor in this region.

Each day the boats deliver their catch of oysters at the fishing-camps
or on board the receiving vessels. After they have been freed from
marine growths and refuse, the mollusks are opened and searched for
pearls. This operation is performed by trusted employees, usually
elderly men who have become physically disqualified for diving, and who,
seated together at a low table, work under the watchful eyes of
overseers. A knife is introduced between the valves of the oyster, the
adductor muscle is severed, and the valves are separated by breaking the
hinge. The animal is removed from the shell and carefully examined with
the eyes and the fingers, and then squeezed in the hands to locate any
pearl which may be concealed in the organs or tissues. The debris is
passed to other persons, who submit it to further examinations. A man
may work all day long and find only a few seed-pearls, but occasionally
there is the excitement of discovering a beautiful gem.

In some localities the flesh of the pearl-oyster is a source of profit
through its sale to Chinamen, who dry and otherwise prepare it for sale
among their countrymen in Mexico and America, as well as in the Orient.
Frequently the large adductor muscle is dried for food, making excellent
soup-stock, and, indeed, it is quite palatable when stewed.

It is difficult to approximate the output of the Mexican pearl
fisheries, other than the pearl shell, because the dealers place a
merely nominal value on the pearls in their invoices when sending them
to Europe, an invoice of $500 sometimes representing gems valued in
Paris at several thousand dollars. Furthermore, it is difficult to
obtain satisfactory information from the pearling companies, owing,
presumably, to the fear of developing greater competition. According to
the estimates at La Paz, the local value of the pearl yield now
approximates $250,000 annually, and the value of the same over the
counters in Europe and America probably exceeds one million dollars.

Some remarkably large pearls have been secured in the Mexican fisheries,
especially considering the small size of the oysters. In 1871 a pearl of
96 grains, pear-shaped and without a flaw, sold at La Paz for 3000
pesos. In March, 1907, a beautiful pinkish white one, found near the
lower end of the peninsula, sold for 28,000 pesos or $14,000. One of the
best years for choice finds was 1881, when the scaphanders were first
employed to their greatest efficiency. A black pearl was then secured
which weighed 112 grains, and which brought 40,000 francs in Paris. In
1882 two, weighing 124 and 180 grains respectively, sold for 11,000
pesos. In the following year a light brown pearl, flecked with dark
brown, and weighing 260 grains, sold for 7500 pesos. These are the
prices which the La Paz merchants received for these pearls, and not the
much greater amounts for which they were finally sold by the jewelers.

One of the finest pearls was found in 1884 near Mulege. This weighed 372
grains. The Indian fisherman is said to have sold it for $90; the
purchaser declined an offer of 1000 pesos, and also a second offer of
5000, and soon sold it to a La Paz dealer for 10,000 pesos. Its value in
Paris was estimated at 85,000 francs. Probably the most famous of all
pearls obtained from these grounds was “the 400–grain pearl” found near
Loreto, and “which is now among the royal jewels of Spain.” It is said
that this was offered by the lucky fisherman to the Mission of Loreto,
and by the Director of Missions in Lower California was presented to the
Queen of Spain.[299]

As in every other fishery, one hears in Mexico of fishermen who have
grasped a prize only to lose it through inexperience or improvidence.
The account given above of the sale of the 372–grain pearl found near
Mulege furnishes an instance of this. It is related in La Paz that in
1883 an Indian sold for ten pesos a gem weighing 128 grains, for which
the purchaser received 27,500 francs in Paris. On another occasion a
Mexican sold two pearls, easily worth $4000, for $16 worth of groceries.

In the eighteenth century, the Notre Dame de Loreto possessed a
remarkable collection of Mexican pearls, which had been presented from
time to time by the fishermen. During the régime of the Jesuits, it was
customary to devote the proceeds of the last day of the fishery to the
decoration of the altar of that mission. After the expulsion of this
religious order in 1767, the mission was pillaged and the collection
dissipated. From the old aristocracy of Mexico, family heirlooms of many
choice pearls were placed on the European market during the civil wars
in Mexico to contribute to the support of the contending armies. One
lady in Sonora is said to have disposed of her collection for 550,000
francs. A fine collection of these pearls, accumulated from 1760 to
1850, and showing them in a great variety of colors, shapes, and sizes,
was in Chihuahua until recently.


AMERICAN FRESH WATERS

And my pearls are pure as thy own fair neck,
With whose radiant light they vie.

WHITTIER, _The Vaudois Teacher_.

The most recently developed pearl fisheries are within the limits of the
United States, in the rivers and fresh-water lakes, and especially those
in the Mississippi Valley. As an important industrial enterprise, these
fisheries are less than two decades old, yet they are very productive,
yielding annually above half a million dollars’ worth of pearls, many of
which compare favorably in quality with those from oriental seas.

The prehistoric mounds in the Mississippi Valley present evidence of the
estimation in which pearls were held by a race of men who passed away
ages before America was first visited by Europeans. In some of these
mounds, erected by a long-forgotten race, pearls have been found not
only in hundreds and in thousands, but by gallons and even by bushels.
Some of these equal three quarters of an inch in diameter, and in
quantity exceed the richest individual collections of the present day.
Damaged and partly decomposed by heat and through centuries of burial,
they have lost their beauty, and are of value only to the archæologist
and to indicate the quantity of pearly treasures possessed by these
early people.

Owing to the great wealth of pearls which had been uncovered on the
Spanish Main, at Panama, and in the Gulf of California, Eldorado
explorers, in the sixteenth century, were particularly eager in
searching for them within the present limits of the United States; in
the reports of their wanderings, much space is given to these gems, and
these reports aided largely in inducing and encouraging other
expeditions. Some of these accounts read like the marvelous stories of
Sindbad the Sailor, quantities of pearls—hundreds of pounds in some
instances—being secured by the exchange of trinkets and by more
questionable means. It would be easy to bring together numerous accounts
of apparently reliable authorities to show that in the sixteenth century
pearls were obtained here in far greater quantities than were ever known
in any other part of the world; but this conclusion seems not wholly
correct.

The unfortunate wanderings of Hernando de Soto from 1539 to 1542 gave
rise to most of the reports of rich pearl finds within the limits of
this country. Of this voyage there are three principal accounts. The
first was by Luis Hernandez de Biedma, who had accompanied De Soto as
factor for Charles V of Spain. His brief report was presented to the
king in 1544, although it was not published until 1841, nearly three
centuries later, when it appeared in a French translation.[300] The
second, and in our opinion the most reliable account,[301] published at
Evora in 1577, was by an unnamed Portuguese (in English editions,
commonly spoken of as the Gentleman of Elvas), who was a member of the
expedition. The third account,[302] by far the longest and most widely
known, but which was not written until 1591, was by Garcilasso de la
Vega, who represented that his information was from a Spanish cavalier
who had accompanied De Soto.

The only reference made to pearls in Biedma’s report seems to be his
allusion to the large quantity secured at the village of Cofaciqui, on
the east bank of the Savannah River. He states: “When we arrived there,
the queen … presented the governor with a necklace of pearls of five
or six rows, procured for us canoes to pass the river, and assigned the
half of the village for our quarters. After having been in our company
three or four days, she escaped into the forest; the governor caused
search to be made after her, but without success; he then gave orders to
break open a temple erected in this village, wherein the chiefs of the
country were interred. We took out of it a vast quantity of pearls,
which might amount to six or seven arrobas,[303] but they were spoiled
by having been underground.”[304]

The Portuguese narrative alludes to the pearls at Cofaciqui, stating
that the queen “took from her own neck a great cordon of pearls, and
cast it about the neck of the governor…. And the lady, perceiving that
the Christians esteemed the pearls, advised the governor to search
certain graves in the town, where he would find many; and that if he
would send to the abandoned towns, he might load all his horses. He
sought the graves of that town and there found fourteen rows of pearls,
and little babies and birds made of them.”[305] This account makes no
further mention of pearls, except to state that at the battle of Mavilla
this great collection was burned, and that when the Queen of Cofaciqui
escaped from the Portuguese she carried with her a little chest full of
unbored pearls, which some of the Spaniards thought were of great
value;[306] and further, that on one or two other occasions a few pearls
were received from the Indians as presents.

The account of De Soto’s wanderings, given by Garcilasso, the Peruvian
historian, contains many references to pearls, which read more like
romance than reality. With his knowledge of the jewels, temples, etc.,
in Mexico and Peru, and recognizing some similarities in the manners of
the people of those countries and the ones with whom De Soto came in
contact, Garcilasso was easily led to statements which, though possibly
true in the one case, seem fictitious in the other.

He gives the story of the Queen of Cofaciqui, with some additional
particulars. The string of pearls which she presented to the governor
made three circuits of her neck and descended to her waist. In his
account, the graves in Cofaciqui became a temple containing, among other
riches, more than a thousand measures of pearls, of which they took only
two. Near Cofaciqui was the temple of Talomeco, over a hundred steps
long by forty broad, with the walls high in proportion. Upon the roof of
the temple were shells of different sizes, placed with the inside out,
to give more brilliancy, and with the intervals “filled with many
strings of pearls of divers sizes, in the form of festoons, from one
shell to the other, and extending from the top of the roof to the
bottom.” Within the temple, festoons of pearls hung from the ceiling and
from all other parts of the building. In the middle were three rows of
chests of graded sizes, arranged in pyramids of five or six chests each,
according to their sizes. “All these chests were filled with pearls, in
such a manner that the largest contain the largest pearls, and thus, in
succession, to the smallest, which were full of seed-pearls only. The
quantity of pearls was such, that the Spaniards avowed, that even if
there had been more than nine hundred men and three hundred horses, they
all together could not have carried off at one time all the pearls of
this temple. We ought not to be too much astonished at this, if we
consider that the Indians of the province conveyed into these chests,
during many ages, all the pearls which they found, without retaining a
single one of them.”[307] In the armory attached to this temple were
long pikes, maces, clubs, and other weapons mounted with links and
tassels of pearls.

Garcilasso has an interesting story of an incident said to have occurred
a few days after leaving Cofaciqui, when the troops were passing through
the wilderness.

Juan Terron, one of the stoutest soldiers of the army, toward noon,
drew from his saddle-bags about six pounds of pearls, and pressed a
cavalier, one of his friends, to take them. The cavalier thanked him
and told him that he ought to keep them, or rather, since the report
was current that the general would send to Havana, send them there
to buy horses and go no longer afoot. Offended at this answer,
Terron replied that “these pearls then shall not go any farther,”
and thereupon scattered them here and there upon the grass and
through the bushes. They were surprised at this folly, for the
pearls were as large as hazel-nuts, and of very fine water, and
because they were not pierced they were worth more than six thousand
ducats. They collected about thirty of these pearls, which were so
beautiful that it made them regret the loss of the others, and say,
in raillery, these words, which passed into a proverb with them,
“There are no pearls for Juan Terron.”[308]

At the capital of Iciaha, De Soto received from the cacique or chief, a
string, five feet in length, of beautiful and well-matched pearls as
large as filberts. Upon De Soto’s expressing a desire to learn how the
gems were extracted from the shells, the chief immediately ordered four
boats to fish all night and return in the morning.

In the meantime they burnt a great deal of wood upon the shore, in
order to make there a great bed of live coals, that at the return of
the boats they might put thereon the shells, which would open with
the heat. They found, at the opening of the first shells, ten or
twelve pearls of the size of a pea, which they took to the cacique,
and to the general who was present, and who found them very
beautiful, except that the fire had deprived them of a part of their
lustre. When the general had seen what he wished, he returned to
dine; and immediately after, a soldier entered, who instantly said
to him that, in eating oysters which the Indians had caught, his
teeth had encountered a very beautiful pearl of a very lively color,
and that he begged him to receive it to send to the governess of
Cuba. Soto politely refused this pearl, and assured the soldier that
he was as obliged to him as if he had accepted it; and that some day
he would try to acknowledge his kindness, and the honor which he did
his wife; and that he should preserve it to purchase horses at
Havana. The Spaniards valued it at four hundred ducats; and as they
had not made use of fire to extract it, it had not lost any of its
lustre.[309]

Notwithstanding the strong indorsement given to Garcilasso’s narrative
by Theodore Irving and some other writers, his tendency to exaggerate
depreciates greatly the historical value of his account, and it seems
wholly unreliable as an authority relative to early resources in
America. We may reasonably doubt whether De Soto’s expedition came in
contact with more pearls than those mentioned by Biedma and the
Portuguese writer.

The account of the first voyage along the coast of the United States,
that of the Italian, Juan Verrazano, in 1524, contains no reference to
pearls, although he penetrated into the interior a score or two of
miles, and was frequently in contact with the natives, who lived largely
by fishing, and who prized many ornaments of different colored stones,
copper rings, etc.

The first expedition which went far into the interior was the ill-fated
one under command of Pánfilo de Narvaez in 1528. A thrilling
account[310] of this journey was written by Cabeza de Vaca, who was one
of the four survivors, after eight years’ wandering through America to
Mexico. Cabeza had been controller and royal treasurer of the
expedition, and in that position it was his particular duty to acquaint
himself with all the pearls, gold, and similar riches found by the
party. Notwithstanding his tradings with the Indians and their efforts
to gain his friendship by means of presents, his account makes no
mention of pearls, except to refer to a statement made by some Indians
that on the coast of the South Sea there were pearls and great riches.

Hernando D’Escalante Fontaneda, who was shipwrecked on the Florida coast
about 1550, and was detained there a prisoner for seventeen years,
wrote:

“Between Abolachi [Appalachicola] and Olagale is a river which the
Indians call Guasaca-Esqui, which means Reed River. It is on the
sea-coast, and at the mouth of this river the pearls are found in
oysters and other shells; from thence they are carried into all the
provinces and villages of Florida.”[311]

The European narrators also reported great stores of pearls along the
Atlantic seaboard. Among the first of these may be mentioned David
Ingram, who is represented as traveling by land from the Gulf of Mexico
to the vicinity of Cape Breton in the years 1568 and 1569. As it
appeared in the first edition of Hakluyt’s Voyages, this relation
states:

“There is in some of those Countreys great abundance of Pearle, for
in every Cottage he founde Pearle, in some howse a quarte, in some a
pottel [half a gallon], in some a pecke, more or less, where he did
see some as great as an Acorn; and Richard Browne, one of his
Companyons, found one of these great Pearls in one of their Canoes,
or Boates, wch Pearls he gave to Mouns Campaine, whoe toke them
aboarde his shippe.”[312]

Estimation of Ingram’s wonderful relation is decreased by Purchas’s
comment:

As for David Ingram’s perambulations to the north parts, Master
Hakluyt, in his first edition printed the same; but it seemeth some
incredibilities of his reports caused him to leave him out in the
next impression; the reward of lying being, not to be believed in
truths.[313]

Even the members of Raleigh’s Roanoke Colony of 1585 reported pearls.
Hariot stated:

Sometimes in feeding on Muscles we found some Pearle: but it was our
happe to meet with ragges, or of a pide colour: not having yet
discovered those places where we heard of better and more plenty.
One of our company, a man of skill in such matters, had gathered
from among the Savage people about five thousand: of which number he
chooses so many as made a faire chaine, which for their likenesse
and uniformity in roundenesse, orientnesse, and piednesse of many
excellent colours, with equality in greatnesse, were very faire and
rare: and had therefore been presented to her Majesty, had we not by
casualty, and through extremity of a storme lost them, with many
things els in coming away from the countrey.[314]

So far as we can learn, there is no evidence to show that, during the
sixteenth or the seventeenth century, any pearls of value were received
in Europe from within the present limits of the United States, as was
the case with the resources of Venezuela, Panama and Mexico. Many of the
accounts quoted above seem wholly fictitious, some of them possibly
drawn up for the purpose of promoting exploring expeditions. It is also
probable that knowledge of the enormous collections at Venezuela and
Panama misled some of the narrators into recognizing as pearls the
spherical pieces of shell or even the cylindrical wampum which the
Indians made in large quantities and used as money.

However, it is unquestionable that pearls of value were in the
possession of some of the wealthier tribes. Biedma’s account of the 150
pounds or more of damaged pearls in the graves at Cofaciqui seems wholly
reliable, and likewise many other statements; and it is an interesting
problem to determine the source from which the Indians obtained them.

Most of the narratives refer to the pearls as coming from the coast of
the South Sea or Gulf of Mexico. The evidence of Fontaneda, who had
spent seventeen years in the country, throws some light on this. He
states that pearls were obtained at the mouth of Reed River near
Appalachicola, whence they were distributed throughout Florida. This
seems to indicate that on the west coast of Florida there might have
been extensive reefs of pearl-bearing mollusks, which have since become
extinct, although existing shell-heaps do not confirm this.

While it is possible and even probable that many of these pearls in the
possession of the Indians came from the Gulf of Mexico or even from the
Caribbean Sea, it seems much more likely that they came largely from the
Unios of the inland lakes and rivers.

The voyages of Narvaez, Ayllon, De Soto, Ribault, etc., had been so
unfortunate that for a century little exploration was made in the
territory of the southern part of the United States. When this territory
was again invaded, little was seen in the way of pearls.

Iberville, who established the French settlement near the mouth of the
Mississippi in 1699, was specially directed to look for them. His
instructions state: “Although the pearls presented to his Majesty are
not fine either in water or shape, they must nevertheless be carefully
sought, as better may be found, and his Majesty desires M. d’Iberville
to bring all he can; ascertain where the fishery is carried on, and see
it in operation.”[315] Pearls were found in the territory of the
Pascagoulas, but they were not worth the trouble of securing them. It
appears that from these the Pearl River in Mississippi derived its name.

The only reference to pearls in the seventy-one volumes of Travels and
Explorations of the Jesuit Missionaries in New France, from 1610 to
1791, is a note by Father Gravier stating that he saw no choice pearls:
“It is true the chief’s wife has some small pearls; but they are neither
round nor well pierced, with the exception of seven or eight, which are
as large as small peas, and have been bought for more than they are
worth.”[316]

Daniel Coxe’s description, in 1722, of pearl resources in America, is of
special interest because of the extended experience of his father as a
trader in the country. He states:

Pearls are found to be in great abundance in this country; the
Indians put some value upon them, but not so much as on the colored
beads we bring them. On the whole coast of this province, for two
hundred leagues, there are many vast beds of oysters which breed
pearls, as has been found in divers places. But, which is very
remarkable, far from the sea, in fresh water rivers and lakes, there
is a sort of shell-fish between a mussel and a , wherein are found
abundance of pearls, and many of an unusual magnitude. The Indians,
when they take the oysters, broil them over the fire till they are
fit to eat, keeping the large pearls they find in them, which by the
heat are tarnished and lose their native lustre; but, when we have
taught them the right method, doubtless it would be a very
profitable trade. There are two places we already know within land,
in each of which there is a great pearl fishery. One about
one hundred and twenty leagues up the River Meschacebe
[Mississippi], on the west side, in a lake made by the river of the
Naches, about forty miles from its mouth, where they are found in
great plenty and many very large. The other on the River Chiaha,
which runs into the Coza or Cussaw River (as our English call it),
and which comes from the northeast, and, after a course of some
hundred miles, disembogues into the Gulf of Florida, about one
hundred miles to the east of the Meschacebe.[317]

It is interesting to note that the first place mentioned by Coxe as the
location of a great pearl fishery is not far from one of the most
productive pearling regions of the last fifteen years, _viz._, the
eastern part of Arkansas. The second place noted by him appears to be
identical with the Iciaha, where, nearly two centuries before, the
Indians exhibited the methods of their fishing to De Soto and his
companions.

Excepting Coxe’s notice, for 250 years following 1600, little was heard
of the occurrence of pearls within this country. This does not indicate
necessarily that the gems were absent from the waters; but, not using
the Unios for food as did the aborigines, the residents had little
occasion to open them and in this way learn of their contents. And even
where pearls were occasionally found in mollusks opened for fish-bait,
the people were in few instances informed as to their market value, and
did not attempt to sell them, although the most attractive ones may have
been treasured as ornaments or as keepsakes. This was paralleled in the
diamond fields of South Africa, where gems worth thousands of dollars
were used as playthings by the farmers’ children. A jewel, like a
prophet, is frequently without honor in its own country until the
residents of that country learn of the great esteem in which it is held
elsewhere.

And yet, in some localities a few pearls were collected from time to
time. The Moravians—familiar with the pearls of their native streams in
Europe—gathered many from the Lehigh River near Bethlehem, Pennsylvania,
over a century ago;[318] and from Rhode Island and elsewhere a few were
obtained.

The first awakening to a realization of the value of fresh-water pearls
in America occurred fifty years ago, when several beautiful gems were
marketed from the northern part of New Jersey. The story of this find
has been frequently told. A shoemaker named David Howell, who lived on
the outskirts of Paterson, occasionally relieved the monotony of his
trade by a fishing excursion to some neighboring stream, where he would
usually collect a “mess” of mussels. Returning from one of these visits
to Notch Brook in the spring of 1857, the mussels were fried with the
usual abundance of grease and heat. After this preparation, one of them
was found to contain a large, round pearl weighing “nearly 400 grains,”
which possibly might have proven the finest of modern times, had not its
luster and beauty been destroyed by the heat and grease.[319] Had the
pearl been discovered in time, its value might have exceeded $25,000,
thus making poor Howell’s fried mussels one of the most expensive of
suppers.

Hoping to duplicate his wonderful find, Howell collected and searched
other mussels, and his example was followed by several of his neighbors.
Within a few days a magnificent pink pearl was found by a Paterson
carpenter named Jacob Quackenbush. This weighed ninety-three grains, and
was bought by the late Charles L. Tiffany for Messrs. Tiffany & Co., New
York City, for $1500. Mr. Tiffany later described with much interest the
feelings he experienced after making the purchase. Said he: “Here this
man finds a pearl within seventeen miles of our place of business! What
if thousands should be found, and many perhaps finer than this one!
However, we risked buying the pearl, and as no one in New York seemed
interested in it, we sent it to our Paris house for sale, and a French
gem dealer offered for it a very large advance on the original price,
paying 12,500 francs.” From this dealer it passed into the possession of
the young and beautiful Empress Eugénie, from whom and from its great
luster it derived the name “Queen Pearl.” Its present market value would
doubtless amount to $10,000 or more.

When news of the very large price received for Quackenbush’s find became
public, great excitement developed in the vicinity of Notch Brook.
Persons came from all directions to search in the shallow streams for
valuable pearls. Farmers of the neighborhood tried their luck, and also
mechanics and other residents of the adjacent villages and towns, and
even some from Newark, Jersey City, and New York. An old resident, who
was an eye-witness, describes the scene as one of great animation, the
crowds of people and the horses and wagons along the shore giving “an
appearance of camp-meeting time.” At least one schoolmaster in the
vicinity is said to have closed his school to give his pupils an
opportunity to engage in the hunt.

With trousers rolled up, the people waded into the shallow water and
sought for the mussels in the mud and sand on the bottom. Many pearls
were secured, but none approached in size or value the two above
noted.[320] During 1857, the New York City market received about $15,000
worth of pearls from these waters, and in addition many were sold
locally or retained as souvenirs of the hunt. At the low price of pearls
existing then, this figure would mean possibly ten times as much at
present, or $150,000.

The active search soon depleted the resources of the little stream, so
that in the following year the reported value of the yield was only a
few thousand dollars. The decrease continued until in a few years
practically every mussel was removed, and at present scarcely a single
Unio is to be found in these waters.

The interest in pearling extended far from the place of the original
find; and in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and even as far away as Texas, search
was made in the streams. In the Colorado and its tributaries, about
20,000 were found in a short while. Most of these were small and
unattractive, but a considerable number were reported “as large as
pepper-corns” and a few “the size of a small rifle ball,” the number
decreasing with the increase in size. A correspondent in the “Neue Zeit”
wrote:

Sometimes they are round, sometimes cylindrical, elliptical,
hemispherical, or of an altogether irregular shape. The finest have
a milk-white, silvery sheen; many, however, are reddish yellow,
bluish brown, or quite black; the last naturally have no value
whatever. As to their value, there is considerable uncertainty, and
it can easily be understood that those who have a great number of
them in their possession greatly overestimate them. So far they are
found principally in the Llano and the San Saba.[321]

After the resources in northern New Jersey were depleted and the
excitement had died out, little was heard of pearling in this country
until 1878, when many were found in Little Miami River in southwestern
Ohio. The fishing was carried on at low water, and principally by boys,
who would wade out in the water and feel for the mollusks with their
feet, and then bob under and pick them up with their hands. The senior
author spent a day in this fishery with a party of six boys with some
success. During 1878 about $25,000 worth of pearls were collected in the
vicinity of Waynesville on that stream. Mr. Israel H. Harris, a banker
of Waynesville, then began collecting these pearls; and by purchasing
during several years nearly every interesting specimen found in the
vicinity, he made his collection one of the largest and best known in
the country. When sold in 1888, it contained several thousand pearls,
mostly of small size, averaging in weight little more than one grain
each. A large portion of this collection was exhibited in the American
section of the Paris Exposition of 1889, and was awarded a gold medal.
Included in this exhibit was a series of ornaments in which the gems
were arranged according to color, so that in one the pearls were green,
in another purplish brown, in another pink, in another waxy white, and
in one a cream-white. It also contained a button-shaped pearl weighing
thirty-eight grains and several pink ones almost translucent. A pink
pearl of eight grains was admired by all who saw it; by reflected light
this had the color and translucency of a drop of molten silver. Many of
the pink pearls found in the Little Miami and its tributaries were of
the most beautiful rose-petal pink; pearls of this peculiar color have
never been found in any other waters.

From Ohio the industry gradually extended westward and southward, and
new fields were developed, pearls to the value of about $10,000 annually
coming on the market from such widely separated States as Vermont,
Kentucky, Tennessee, Florida, Texas, Washington, etc. However, little
general interest was taken in fresh-water pearls, and few choice ones
were found until the magnificent resources of the upper Mississippi
Valley were discovered. Owing to the ease with which the mollusks may be
collected by wading, it was in the relatively shallow tributaries that
the fishery first developed, rather than in the deep channels of the
main stream and of the large affluents.

The first region in the Mississippi Valley to attract attention was
southwestern Wisconsin. Early in the summer of 1889, many beautiful
pearls were found in Pecatonica River, a tributary of Rock River, which
in turn empties into the Mississippi. Within three months, $10,000 worth
of gems were sent from this region to New York City alone, including one
worth $500, which was a very considerable sum for a fresh-water pearl at
that time. The interest quickly spread to neighboring waters, and within
a short time pearls were found also in Sugar River, in Apple River, in
Rock River, in Wisconsin River, and in the Mississippi in the vicinity
of Prairie du Chien. The fact that little experience and no capital was
required for the business drew large numbers of persons to the
newly-found Klondike; and the finds were so numerous and of such high
quality that about $300,000 worth of pearls were collected before the
end of 1891, greatly exceeding all records for fresh waters.

The Wisconsin pearls are remarkable for their beauty, luster, and
diversified coloring, and some lovely shades of pink, purple, and
especially metallic green have been found. Several of them have weighed
in excess of fifty grains each, and some individual values ran well into
four figures. One shipment made from Sugar River to London in September,
1890, contained ninety-three pearls, weighing from four to twenty-eight
grains each, for which £11,700 was received in payment. In the limits of
one county in the following year, pearls to the value of nearly $100,000
were secured.

Shortly following the outbreak of pearling in Wisconsin came the
development of interest in certain parts of Tennessee. For many years
pearls had been secured from the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers and
their tributaries, especially Caney Fork, Duck, Calf Killer, and Elk
rivers, the headquarters of the fishery and the local markets being
Carthage, Smithville, Columbia, and Arlington. The search had been
conducted in a moderate way by pleasure parties in the summer, and by
farmers after the crops had been laid aside.

In 1901 pearling excitement developed in the mountain regions of eastern
Tennessee, especially in Clinch River. These newly-discovered resources
proved so valuable that the local interest became very great. Vivid and
picturesque accounts published in the local papers reported hundreds of
persons as camping at various points along the streams, some in tents
and some in rough shanties, and others going from shoal to shoal in
newly-built house-boats. They were described as easygoing,
pleasure-loving people, the men, women, and children working hard all
day, subsisting largely on fish caught in the same stream, and dancing
at night to the music of a banjo around the camp-fires. The center of
the new industry was Clinton, the county seat of Anderson County,
whither the successful hunters betook themselves each Saturday, the
preferred time for selling the catch.

The next outbreak of pearling excitement was in Arkansas, in the region
referred to by Daniel Coxe two centuries ago as the location of great
pearl resources.[322] Although in recent times little had been heard of
pearls in Arkansas previous to 1895, they were not unknown in that
State. For years they had been picked up by the fishermen, and used as
lucky stones or given to the children for playthings. Some had come into
the possession of persons acquainted with their value. About 1875, a few
pearls were collected by a party of men engaged in cutting cedar poles
on White River; in 1888, a brilliant pear-shaped pink pearl of
twenty-seven grains was secured from the same river, and sold to a
prominent resident. Little had been said about these finds, and in
general the people of Arkansas had slight idea of the occurrence or the
value of pearls in those waters.

In 1895, a surveying party on White River found pearls in the Unios of
that stream, and collected them to the value of about $5000. News of
this discovery attracted attention to the resource, and other persons
sought for the gems in the White River and its tributaries, in the St.
Francis and the Arkansas rivers. The unusually low water in 1896
facilitated the fishery, and resulted in the discovery of many large and
valuable gems. The interest developed rapidly, and within twelve months
nearly every stream of water in Arkansas yielded pearls, with the finds
most extensive and valuable in White River and its tributary the Black
River, which has proved to be the richest pearling region in America.
The industry centered at Black Rock, more than a thousand persons
fishing within twenty miles of that place. It is estimated that within
three years following the development of this fishery, this State
yielded pearls to the value of more than $500,000.

When the Arkansas fishery was at its height, it was reported that ten
thousand persons were employed therein. The fishermen were from nearly
every class and condition in the State. Women were not absent; even
children participated in the industry, and some proved more fortunate
than the older hunters. It was not uncommon to see several hundred
persons congregated at one bar or in one stretch of the river, all
intent on making a fortune, and all occupied in fishing or in opening
the shells. So complete was the absorption of the people in this
pursuit, and so many of the farm-hands were occupied in the eager search
for anticipated fortunes, that the local papers reported much
apprehension and difficulty in harvesting the cotton and other crops.

Within the main channel of the Mississippi, the relative scarcity of
pearls in the Unios, and the greater preparation required for collecting
the mollusks in the deep waters, retarded the fishery until the
establishment of button manufacture afforded a market for the shells,
this originating in 1891. The industry developed rapidly, and for
several years has consumed about 35,000 tons of shells annually,
obtained principally in the Mississippi between Quincy and La Crosse,
and to a much less extent in other streams in this valley. This is more
than twice the total product of mother-of-pearl shell in all parts of
the world. However, the value per ton is very much less than that of the
best grade of mother-of-pearl; that from Australia, for instance,
commonly selling for $1200 per ton, whereas the Mississippi shell
usually sells for less than $20, although the very choicest may bring
upward of $50 per ton.

The gathering of shells for manufacture has extended to many of the
large tributaries of the Mississippi, especially the Arkansas, the
White, the St. Francis, the Ohio and the Illinois rivers, and this
industry has added largely to the pearl yield in these waters.

In the last three years, the scenes of greatest activity have been the
Wabash River and its tributaries, where shell-collecting developed in
1903, and the Illinois River, where the industry was of little
importance previous to 1906. On the Wabash, camps were established at
almost every town, from the mouth up to St. Francis, Illinois, and about
one thousand persons found employment. Some of the most beautiful
American gems have come from this river. They are usually silvery white
in color and of the sweetest luster. A single pearl weighing only ten
grains has been sold at the river for $1000; but it is frequently the
case that a fine gem will sell for more at the place where found than in
the great markets. During the spring of 1907, three pearls were found in
the Wabash near Vincennes, which weighed forty-one, fifty-one, and
fifty-three grains respectively. One of these was white, one faint pink,
and the third was yellow. The finest pearls have been reported from the
vicinity of Mount Carmel near the lower end of the river. Very large
quantities of baroques or slugs are found in the Wabash and the
Illinois; 30,000 ounces were reported from those rivers and their
tributaries in 1907, for which the fishermen received a total of
$50,000. A large symmetrical pearl found during 1907 weighed a trifle
under 150 grains, and a slug was found which weighed fully one ounce, or
606 grains.

The pearl-hunting excitement has been felt even on the Atlantic
seaboard, as a result of the publication of the discoveries in the
Mississippi Valley. In Maine many pearls have been reported, especially
in the vicinity of Moosehead Lake. In 1901 over one hundred were found
in that vicinity; most of them were of little value, but more than a
dozen were worth $10 or $15 each. Three found by Kineo guides were sold
for an aggregate of $300. The choicest one reported in that year weighed
twelve and one half grains and sold for $150; had it been perfect in
form and luster its value would have been several times that amount.
Most of these pearls were found by Moosehead guides, who found
purchasers among the visiting fishermen and hunters.

Since 1901 many farm-boys as well as guides have devoted much attention
to the business, some of them deriving as large a revenue therefrom as
from the use of the rifle. Good finds have been made, during the last
year or two especially. In 1906, one choice pearl sold for $700, and
many have sold for $10 to $75 each. The search has proven so alluring
that returning visitors have complained that some of the guides care to
do little more than search every rill, brook, and creek they come across
looking for the mollusks. Just at present the principal attention seems
to be directed to the streams in the western part of Maine, where the
river-beds are more sandy and the shell-fish more abundant than in the
northern and eastern part of the State.

In Massachusetts pearls have been collected from many of the ponds and
brooks. In Nonesuch Pond in Weston, the _Unio complanata_ has yielded
many small ones of attractive appearance, but not of sufficient size or
luster to sell for more than $10 each. Ponds in the town of Greenwich
and also in Pelham in Hampshire County are among the best in
Massachusetts for pearls. The Sudbury River above Concord also yields
many. Relatively few of the Unios contain pearls, and the gem-bearing
individuals seem to be grouped in special localities. Outside of these
places, thousands of mussels may be opened without revealing a single
gem. A collection of small Massachusetts pearls was brought together a
few years ago by Mr. Sherman F. Denton of Wellesley Farms, who has
devoted much time to exploring the inland waters of Massachusetts.

Connecticut also has had a slight touch of the pearl fever. In 1897, Mr.
C. S. Carwell of Ledyard, explored the headwaters of Mystic River, and
in a few weeks collected a number of pearls, one of which he is reported
as having sold for $500, and two others were estimated at $400 each. And
from the other end of the State, along the Shepaug River, is reported a
similar account of the success of Mr. Arlo Kinney of Steep Rock.
Attracted by these reports, crowds of seekers have proceeded in the
usual reckless manner to make wholesale destruction of the mollusks. The
finds have been especially large and valuable in the lakes and streams
of Litchfield County, particularly in Bantam Lake.

In New York State, pearls have been found in the swift shallow streams
in the Adirondack region, and in several of those entering the St.
Lawrence, particularly the Grass River in St. Lawrence County. Pearls
were first reported from this region in 1894. In 1896 the Grass yielded
one pearl weighing fifty-eight grains, worth $600 locally; and in 1897
one weighing sixty-eight grains was found, the fisherman selling it for
$800. A resident of Russell township devoted most of his time to
pearling in Grass River during 1896 and 1897, from which he is said to
have realized $2000. In this region the mussels are found by wading in
the shallow water and scanning the bottom through a water-telescope.
Most of the pearls are of slight value, but many individuals are
reported as worth from $30 to $60 each.

Pearl River in Rockland County, New York, has furnished a number of
brown pearls. These are commonly small, weighing from one eighth to one
half grain each, although some weigh seven or eight grains each. Most of
these are not lustrous, but occasionally a bright brown or a bright
copper-brown specimen of from one to four grains is met with. At the
Paris Exposition, in 1900, were exhibited one hundred of these pearls,
with an aggregate weight of 281 grains; these now form part of the
Morgan-Tiffany Collection, in the American Museum of Natural History.

Even in the rich coal regions of Pennsylvania pearls are found. Possibly
the most productive section in that State has been the headwaters of the
Schuylkill River in the vicinity of Tamaqua, Quakake, and Mahony City.
Of the tributaries of the Schuylkill, those contributing largely to the
yield have been Lewiston, Nipert, Still, Locust, and Hecla. These rise
in the mountains and are rivulets of fair size by the time they reach
their common outlet.

The original pearl finds in the Schuylkill date from half a century ago,
when they were secured by farmers who used the mussel shells in removing
hair from the hides of slaughtered pigs. During the Mississippi pearling
excitement in 1897, several persons from New York, who were summering in
Schuylkill County, searched the small streams for pearl-bearing mussels
with such success that within a short while many farmers became
enthusiastic hunters during their spare time. Half a dozen or more men
did very well, their catch amounting to thousands of dollars’ worth. Mr.
Frank M. Ebert, of Quakake, has put most of his spare time in the
business in the last ten years, and has secured many good pearls. It is
estimated that the total catch in Schuylkill County alone approximates
$20,000 at local values. So actively has the search been conducted that
at present few adult mussels of the pearl-bearing species remain, and a
day’s work may result in finding less than a dozen.

The best price reported as received by a local fisherman was $200 for a
twenty-grain pearl in the year 1904. Many individual specimens have been
sold at prices ranging from $100 to $175. It is claimed that a pearl
sold by a fisherman in Schuylkill for fifty cents was later marketed in
Philadelphia for $125, and with slight mounting was ultimately sold for
$1600. The most attractive weigh from ten to twenty grains each; larger
ones have been found, weighing up to thirty-eight grains, but as a rule
the luster is not so good as that possessed by pearls of medium size.
The common colors are dark blue, pink, lavender, and white. A few are
black and some are brown. The brown pearls are seldom of value, owing to
deficiency in luster.

In Maryland pearls have been collected from the brooks near the head of
Chesapeake Bay, and especially in Kent and Cecil counties. These are of
almost every conceivable color, ranging from a clear white to a dainty
pink, and to very dark colors, especially bronze and copper. Most of
them are too small for commercial value, and only a few reach sufficient
size to command more than $5 or $10 each, but single specimens have sold
as high as $50.

Georgia has yielded some pearls, chiefly in the vicinity of Rome, at the
junction of the Etowah and Oostanaula rivers. This is believed to be the
site of the Indian town Cofaciqui, where, in his memorable expedition of
1540–1541, De Soto found the natives in possession of so many pearls.
The general news of finds in the Mississippi Valley stirred up local
interest in this region in 1897, and when the streams were low and clear
in the autumn many persons engaged in hunting the mussels. An ex-sheriff
of Rome is reported as having secured about fifty pearls, lustrous but
irregular. A few miles above Rome, a farmer made a trial on Johns Creek,
a tributary of the Oostanaula; and from a basketful of Unios he reports
finding several marketable pearls for which he received $180 from a
Baltimore jeweler. Others followed, and many fine specimens were
secured. Unios are especially abundant in the Flint, Ocmulgee, and
Oconee rivers, and it seems probable that many pearls might be found in
these streams.

Florida has not yet been actively exploited, but it may prove a
productive region ere long. The reports of De Soto’s expedition make
special reference to the size and beauty of the pearls found at a point
where he crossed the Ocklocknee River about thirty miles above its
mouth, near the present site of Langston, Wakulla County. And there
seems little doubt that pearls may be found in the Ocklocknee and also
in its affluent, the Sopchoppy River. The banks of these streams are
full of shells, and pearls of choice color have been sent from there.

It is unnecessary to refer in detail to the origin of pearling in each
of the States. The general interest in this industry from 1889 to the
present time has resulted in the examination of most of the rivers and
creeks, and in few has the search been entirely unrewarded, although the
finds have been relatively much greater in some waters than in others.
As a rule, pearl-bearing Unios are most numerous in clear, swift
streams, with sandy or gravelly bottoms and which flow through
calcareous rocks. With pearlers as with miners, there is a stampede to
the places where a good find is reported, since the rivers are free for
all; consequently, there is much variation from year to year in the
amount of attention which the individual streams and localities receive.

While many of the pearlers operating in the Mississippi River are
professional fishermen or rivermen, most of those in the smaller streams
have had no previous experience in similar work. Frequently whole
families come twenty or thirty miles, and even greater distances, and
camp on the river bank. In many instances farm-hands are there who have
abandoned their crops, mechanics who have left steady jobs, railway men
who have taken a lay-off, teachers, merchants, all eager and expecting
to find a fortune. In some localities, pearl fishing has been used as an
attraction in big picnic advertisements, and has drawn larger crowds
than a public orator.

The mollusks are removed from the river bottoms in various ways and by
many forms of apparatus. In the shallow streams the fishermen simply
wade out in the water and pick up the shells by hand. If not readily
visible from the surface, the shells may be located with the bare feet
or by the use of a water-telescope. Where the water is too deep for
wading, the fishermen work from small boats, and use garden rakes or
other convenient inplements.

Where pearling has developed into more of an industry, special forms of
rakes and drags are employed. A shoulder rake, with a handle twelve to
twenty feet in length, is used extensively under the ice in frozen
rivers, and in lakes and other places where the water is still and from
eight to fifteen feet in depth. This is simply an overgrown or enlarged
garden rake, armed with twelve or fifteen iron teeth about five inches
in length. A wire scoop or basket is attached to receive the catch as it
is pulled from the bottom by the teeth, and when this scoop is well
filled it is lifted and the contents dumped on the ice or into the
skiff. This method is laborious, and is employed only where the water is
shallow and the mollusks are abundant. Scissor tongs—similar to those
used by oystermen on the Atlantic coast—are also employed in some
localities, especially in Arkansas, where it is estimated that 1700
pairs were manufactured and sold in 1899 and 1900, at about $7 each.

In the large streams of the Mississippi Valley, with their slow and
steady currents, and where the Unios are taken largely for their shells
to be used in button manufacture, the most popular form of apparatus
since 1896 has been the crowfoot drag. This ingenious contrivance
consists of a cross-bar of hollow iron tubing or common gas-pipe, six or
eight feet long, to which are attached, at intervals of five or six
inches, stout twine or chain snoods or stagings, each about eighteen
inches in length. To each of these are attached three or four prongs or
“hooks,” about six inches apart. These “hooks” are four-pronged, and are
made of two pieces of stout wire bent at right angles to each other.
According to the depth of the water, from twenty-five to seventy-five
feet of three quarter inch rope is attached to the drag for the purpose
of towing it behind the boat, which is permitted to drift down the
stream with the current. This contrivance costs about $3, and each
fisherman generally has at least two of them, as well as a wide
flat-bottom boat costing $5 or $10.

Sometimes, when the current is light, the fisherman prepares a “mule” to
assist the boat in towing the resisting drag. This “mule” consists of a
wooden frame, hinged in V-shape, and is fastened several feet in advance
of the boat with the V end pointed down the stream. It sinks low in the
water, and the current pressing against the angle carries it along, and
thus tows the skiff and the resisting drag at a uniform rate of speed.
When there is not sufficient current even for this contrivance, as in
the wide reaches and in the lakes, oars, sails, and even power engines
may be used for propelling the boat.

As the crowfoot drag is slowly drawn along the bottom, it comes in
contact with the mollusks feeding with open shells. When a hook or other
part of the drag enters an open shell, the mollusk immediately closes
firmly upon the intruding object and clings thereto long enough to be
drawn up into the boat. In this way, where the Unios are thick, nearly
every hook becomes freighted, and some may have two or three shells
clinging thereto. It is easy to collect fifty mollusks in passing over a
length of two hundred feet. Two drags are carried by each fisherman, and
the second one is put overboard as soon as the first one is ready to be
raised. This is suspended with the bar across two upright forks on
either side of the boat with the prongs swinging freely, and the mussels
are removed therefrom. When this operation is completed, the drag is put
overboard and the other one is ready for lifting. This apparatus is very
effective, and as much as a ton of shells has been taken by one man in
twelve hours, but the average is very much less, probably not over four
or five hundred pounds. Objection is made to this manner of fishing,
since many mollusks not brought to the surface are so injured that they
die.

A cruder implement of similar type has long been employed on many
logging streams. The weighted branch of a tree is dragged on the bottom
behind a raft of logs, and the mussels attach themselves to the twigs in
the same manner as on the crowfoot hooks.

During the pearling excitement in Arkansas, a considerable portion of
the choice pearls were found, not in the mussels, but lying loosely in
the mud of the shores, indicating that under some circumstances, as
agitation by freshets or floods, the loose pearls are shaken out from
the Unios. In some instances, indeed, the pearls were found upon or in
the soil at some distance from streams or lakes. It is reported that in
October, 1897, Mr. J. W. McIntosh, of the northern part of Lonoke
County, while digging post-holes in the old bed of Cypress Bayou, found
a number of pearls, some “as large as a 44–caliber Winchester ball,”
lying within the shells at a depth of a foot and a half below the
surface. This peculiar occurrence is partly explained by the wide
extension of the waters in flood times over the low region, and by the
shifting of streams and the isolation of cut-offs.

Stray pearls have been found in many other odd places, as in the viscera
of chickens and ducks, in the stomachs of fish, and even within a pig’s
mouth. It is not an uncommon scene in the pearling region to see men
raking over the muck in hog-pens along the river banks, hoping there to
find a stray pearl lost from the mussels with which the animals had been
fed by persons who had indeed “cast pearls before swine.” It is related
that a Negro near Marley, Illinois, in this way secured a pearl weighing
118 grains, for which he received $2000 from a St. Louis buyer, and
which was ultimately sold to a New York dealer for $5000.

During the height of the Arkansas pearling excitement in 1897, the
speculative spirit was so rife that many persons—unwilling to engage in
the labor of fishing—purchased unopened mussels from the fishermen in
the venture for aleatory profits. The price for these ranged from
twenty-five cents to $2 per hundred, and fluctuated rapidly, according
to the immediate results, increasing several hundred per cent. in a few
minutes under the influence of a valuable find. One fisherman sold
mussels to the value of $28 in one day, and thought he had made an
excellent bargain until over $1000 worth of pearls were revealed when
the shells were opened.

While some pearlers work in southern streams throughout the year,
generally the season is coincident with warm weather, when the water is
low and the work may be conducted with comfort. In the vicinity of
Muscatine and Rock Island about twelve years ago, large quantities of
Unios were taken during the winter when the river was frozen over, the
men working with long rakes from the surface of the ice.

When only a few mollusks are taken, they are readily opened with a knife
to permit a search for the pearls. But where there are many, as in the
Mississippi River, the opening is facilitated by heating. After a
sufficient catch has been obtained, they are subjected to the action of
steam in a box, or they are heated in an ordinary kettle; a few minutes
of steaming or cooking are sufficient to cause the shells to spring
open. The fleshy parts are removed and thoroughly searched, the interior
surfaces of the shells are likewise examined for attached pearls, and
the liquid at the bottom of the vessel is strained so that nothing of
value may escape.

This cooking is a convenient method of opening the shells, but
unquestionably it injures the quality of many pearls. In some instances
when the shells open, the pearls fall out and descend to the heated iron
bottom, where they are quickly injured. The surface of one exposed too
long to the heat shows numerous minute cracks, which increase in number
and size when subjected to changes of temperature. Some choice gems have
in this manner been rendered almost valueless. If a jacket boiler, or
one with a double bottom, were used, there would be less danger of
injuring the pearls; or a similar result could be accomplished by
placing a wire screen a few inches above the bottom.

Several fishermen have endeavored to devise mechanical methods for
removing the pearls and thus avoid the painstaking search among the
flesh tissues now necessary; but these contrivances have not proved
satisfactory, and have not been employed except experimentally.

In the Mississippi and its tributaries, where the fishery is very
extensive, after the pearls have been secured, the shells are sold to
button manufacturers and to exporters at prices ranging from $4 to $40
per ton, according to species, quality, and market conditions. This
provides a fairly remunerative income to the fishermen even if no pearls
whatever are found. But in the small tributaries and where the mollusks
are less numerous, the shells are of little value owing to the expense
of bringing them together and conveying them to market.

Not every mollusk contains a pearl, and the village belle, intent on her
evening toilet, need not buy a bushel of clams with the pleasant
anticipation of finding a sufficient number of gems for a necklace.
Small and irregular pearls are not at all uncommon, but choice ones are
decidedly scarce, and each one represents the destruction of tens of
thousands of mollusks. Quantities of irregular and imperfect nodules
known as slugs are collected, which sell for only a few dollars per
ounce. In some sections of the Mississippi, the slugs are so very
numerous that their aggregate value exceeds that of the choice pearls.

In the Mississippi, the percentage of pearls found in a definite
quantity of mollusks is less than in the tributary streams, yet the much
greater quantity of shells collected raises the total yield to a very
considerable amount. Pearling is subordinate and incidental to gathering
the shells for manufacture. In that length of the river from St. Paul to
St. Louis, a fair average yield to the fishermen is about fourteen
dollars’ worth of pearls and slugs to each ton of shells. Of course,
this is not the individual experience, for a single Unio may contain a
gem worth $5000, and on the other hand several tons of shells may yield
only a few cents’ worth of baroques. The market for the shells places
the Mississippi fishing upon an industrial basis, and guarantees a
substantial income to every fisherman even when no pearls whatever are
found.

Unios from the upper part of the Mississippi yield a much greater
percentage than those from below Davenport. In 1904, for instance, from
the 4331 tons of shells taken in Wisconsin the fishermen secured pearls
which they sold for $91,345, an average of $21 per ton; from the 822
tons in Minnesota the average was $16 per ton; in Iowa the average was
$12 for each of the 7846 tons; in Illinois, $5 per ton for the 2364
tons, and in Missouri less than $1 worth of pearls was secured by the
fishermen for each ton of shells which they took in the year named. A
large number of choice pearls weighing over thirty grains each were
found in the vicinity of Prairie du Chien and McGregor. Within a river
length of one hundred miles in that region, the fishermen in 1904
gathered pearls which ultimately sold for $300,000. It is therefore
apparent that the returns vary greatly in the different regions;
nevertheless, even in the less productive localities fine pearls are
sometimes found, which contribute to make the industry a profitable one.

Success in pearling is like that in mining. In the White River in
Arkansas, for instance, one man found $4200 worth in one month. Another
discovered a $50 pearl in the first shell he opened. A Negro found an
$85 pearl the first day he worked, while another fisherman worked seven
months and secured less than $10 worth. It is a question of finding or
not finding; the finding brings riches sometimes, and though the
failures reduce the average profits as low as in other local ventures,
the big prizes affect the mind, and the average is lost to sight. Taking
the country as a whole, it is probable that the total find has been
sufficient to pay the average fisherman little if any more than $1 for
each day’s work.

The fresh-water pearls range in size from that of the smallest seed to
that of a pearl weighing several hundred grains. There is relatively
only a small quantity of seed-pearls, especially when compared with the
output in the fisheries of Ceylon and Persia. Possibly this is due
largely to a scarcity of the parasites which seem to perform so
important a function in the regions noted. A further reason may be found
in the manner in which the mollusks are opened and searched. Were the
Ceylon method of opening employed here—which, however, is not at all
practicable—it seems probable that the quantity of seed-pearls found in
this country would be greatly increased.

The pearls from the tributaries of the Mississippi are noted for their
great range of coloration. From a dead white, the color is gradually
enhanced to faint shades of pink, yellow, or salmon tints, then to a
more decided form of these. From the light shades, the range extends to
purple and to bright copper red, closely resembling a drop of molten
copper. Some are very light green; others rose, steel blue, or russet
brown, while purplish and very dark brown are not uncommon. White pearls
are probably the most numerous; but pink, bronze, and lavender are by no
means rare.

A large percentage of the Mississippi River pearls are very irregular in
form, many of them resembling dogs’ teeth, birds’ wings, the heads or
bodies of different animals, etc.

As a rule the fresh-water pearls do not rank so high in value as those
from oriental seas, since ordinarily they are not so lustrous. However,
some of them have sold at very high figures. A round pearl weighing 103
grains, found in Black River, Arkansas, in 1904, was eventually sold for
$25,000; and one of 68 grains, found, in 1907, on the Wisconsin side of
the Mississippi River, was recently marketed at $15,000.

One of the largest American pearl necklaces, brought together in 1904,
consisted of thirty-eight pearls weighing 1710 grains in the aggregate,
an average of 45 grains for each pearl. The central gem weighed 98½
grains and those on the left of it respectively 85¾, 79⅝, 65¼, 59⅝, 49⅜,
46¼, 45⅛, 43¾, 41½, 40½, 40⅝, 35⅛, 37⅝, 30, 25⅛, 22¼, 20¼, and 19
grains. The pearls on the right were graduated as follows: 85¼, 76⅛,
64⅞, 59½, 47¼, 46, 45⅛, 44½, 42½, 41¾, 38, 37⅞, 36, 35, 34⅝, 29½, 25¼,
21, and 20⅜, grains. This necklace was exhibited at the St. Louis
World’s Fair. It was sold to a London merchant, who in turn sold it to a
Parisian dealer, and it was finally purchased by a Spanish nobleman at a
price said to be about 500,000 francs.

Another necklace shown at the St. Louis World’s Fair, was of American
fresh-water pearls from the rivers of Arkansas. The total weight of
these pearls, sixteen in number, was 861⅝ grains, an average of 61½
grains for each pearl. Of these one drop pearl weighed 77 grains, and
two others each 65½ grains. A round pearl of 70 grains completed the
adornment of the pendant. The circlet consisted of ten round pearls
alternating with precious stones. The central pearl weighed 98½ grains
and on each side were two of 61 grains, then two of 56 grains, two of
54⅞, and two of 48 grains, one of 45⅜ grains being at the back of the
necklace.

In the early days of pearl hunting in American streams, the fishermen
had little idea of their value, and sold choice gems for insignificant
sums. In 1887, a fisherman on Rock River, Illinois, found a 40–grain
pearl which he carried in his pocket for several months. Showing it one
day in Davenport, he was offered $20 for it. He quickly accepted the
offer, and on his return home told his friends about “the sucker who
gave $20 for the shell slug.” At present this “shell slug” is worth more
than one hundred times that amount. Numerous instances of a similar
nature occurred until the average fisherman lost all confidence in his
judgment as to the values, and extravagant ideas prevailed regarding
even almost worthless nacreous concretions. Thus, when a choice pearl is
found, an exorbitant price is set upon it and the seller feels for the
market value by repeated dickerings with several buyers. And unless one
is an expert, he is quite likely to pay two or three times as much for a
pearl at the river bank as in a metropolitan market. Some of the
fishermen collect everything in the shape of nacreous concretions, and
very often pearl buyers in New York and elsewhere receive packages which
are not worth the postage; in many other packages nine tenths of the lot
is worthless; and the practical joker and the swindler have solicited
bids on bright marbles, rounded pieces of pearl shell, and even
sugar-coated pills.

While many pearls of fine luster and beautiful and regular form have
been derived from these fisheries, it occasionally happens, in the case
of pearls consigned to the city pearl dealer, that cracks, breaks or
marks, which might detract from their value, are closed or removed,
either by means of water or oil, the pearls having been kept in one or
the other until a few moments before they were shown to the merchant.
Pearls worth hundreds of dollars have sometimes shown breaks, and in one
instance a pearl valued at $7000 showed these cracks even a very short
time after the sale.

In many of the pearling regions of the Mississippi Valley, inquiry of
almost any fisherman will result in his bringing forth from an inside
pocket a small box padded with raw cotton and containing an assortment
of pearls and slugs. Most of the slugs he will sell at prices ranging
from fifty cents to $5 per ounce, for several of the small pearls he
will likely ask from $2 to $20 each, and one or two of the largest he
may value at $50 or more. At very rare intervals, a choice pearl will be
found, for which he may expect anywhere from $200 to $5000.

While the highest prices are not received by the fishermen, there are
many who have been so fortunate as to obtain $1000 or more for a single
pearl, and several have received double that amount. Probably the
highest figure obtained by the original finder was $3800,
notwithstanding exaggerated stories of enormous five-figure prices.
Recently the press credited a lad sixteen years of age with securing
$20,000 for a pearl he had found.

A particularly striking yarn relative to a so-called “Queen Mary” pearl
went the rounds of the press some time ago. According to the newspaper
report, this pearl was found by the wife of a fisherman who was a
cripple or something equally pathetic, and, fortunately, when the family
resources were at the lowest. With tears of joy, the fisherman embraced
his wife and told her it was her very own and she should wear it.
However, by means of a check for $17,500, he was induced to part with
it, but only on condition that it be named Queen Mary in honor of the
hard-working wife. The report continues that the original buyer sold it
for $25,000, and at last accounts it was held by a Chicago dealer who
had “refused $40,000 and probably would not accept $50,000 for it.” The
facts seem to be that this pearl, which was found near Prairie du Chien
in 1901 and weighed 103 grains, was originally sold for $250, and the
local buyer sold it in Chicago for $550, where for many months it was
offered at $1000.

All sorts of stories of valuable finds are told in the pearling regions:
stories of mortgages that have been released, of homes bought, of
college educations secured from the proceeds of a single gem; but these
tales are offset by the untold stories of the undermining of fine,
strong character in awaiting the turn of fortune which never comes. The
public is quickly apprised of the valuable finds, but it does not hear
of the time and labor lost by the hundreds who are unsuccessful.
Pearling excitement has many of the features of a mining craze. While a
few are benefited, hundreds are made poorer, and in many instances
reduced to absolute want. Persons have given up their established
business to devote their time to pearling, staking all on the aleatory
profits, and have squandered days and months in the hope that one great,
immense, all-rewarding find will be made. The monotony of continued
disappointment is occasionally brightened by the news that some
one—possibly a near neighbor—has made a lucky find, and then the work is
continued with renewed enthusiasm. A spirit akin to that which dominates
the gambler takes possession of the fisherman, and the days go on and
the seasons go by while the gem that is to bring the fortune still
eludes him. In many localities the pursuit yields far less profit than
pleasure, and many a man who spends a summer in pearling is in a fair
way to spend the winter at the expense of some one else.

The pearls are collected for the trade by a score or more of buyers, who
visit the fisheries at intervals and purchase of the individual
fishermen by personal dickering and bargaining. The buyers endeavor to
keep informed of all choice pearls discovered, and when an especially
valuable find is reported each one endeavors to have the first chance to
secure it. The principal local centers of the pearling industry and
marketing are Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin; McGregor, Clinton, and
Muscatine, Iowa; Newport, Black Rock, and Bald Knob, Arkansas; Clinton,
Carthage, and Smithville, Tennessee; St. Francisville, Illinois; and
Vincennes and Leavenworth, Indiana.

However, a large number of the pearls from American rivers are consigned
by the finders to well-known gem dealers, the owners depending for fair
treatment on the integrity and high standing of these experts. An
interesting story is told of the pearl and the accompanying shell in
which it was found, which was sent to a New York dealer by a poor woman.
The price she received pleased her immensely; and in writing her
appreciation, she added that she was especially gratified at receiving
so good a price because it enabled her to send her boy to school. The
dealer sent another check as a gift, and a few days before the next
Thanksgiving Day a thirty-five-pound turkey was received by the
four-score-year-old jeweler as an evidence of the mother’s gratitude.

The outbreak of pearl hunting in various parts of the country is
frequently chronicled by the newspapers. These despatches are much
alike, usually telling how some fisherman discovered a beautiful pearl
which he sold to some responsible jeweler for an amount varying from
$100 to $2000. The despatches generally state further that the effect of
the find has been remarkable; the whole region is seized with the fever,
and into the rivers and creeks swarm the hunters of both sexes, of all
ages, and from all classes of the community. Factory-men leave their
mills, farmers their crops, and merchants their stores, and with the
members of their families join in searching for the gems. The mussels
are secured by whatever means is most convenient. If valuable finds
continue, thousands and thousands of mollusks are destroyed in the
search, and when the efforts begin to prove futile the excitement
subsides almost as quickly as it began. In very many localities the
industry has run the whole gamut of the feverish excitement of its
beginning, the humor and romance of its existence, and the pathos of its
ending.

If disturbed labor conditions at the height of the excitement were the
only disagreeable attendant, these pearling furors could be viewed more
favorably. But, unfortunately, in many localities, especially in shoal
waters of restricted area, the fishery has been prosecuted so vigorously
that it appears probable the resources will be very materially
impoverished if not ruined in a few years, unless prompt and decisive
protective measures are adopted. In some waters the crowds engaged in
the search have removed practically every mussel without regard not only
to protecting the immature mussels, but even to the necessity for
preserving breeding mollusks. Many ponds and small river basins have
been so denuded that not for many years, if ever, can they recover their
former wealth of pearl-bearers.

This state of affairs has not come about without opposition on the part
of those interested in the industry and the general welfare of the
localities. Intelligent and well-directed efforts have been made to
provide a system of regulations for protecting the mussels so that the
maximum yield of pearls may be secured. But this is a very difficult
problem to deal with. It involves not only the methods of fishery, but
the question of sewage disposal by the cities and the large factories,
through which great quantities of mussels have been destroyed.

Undoubtedly it will be difficult to devise regulations that will be
satisfactory alike to the fishermen, the button manufacturers and the
farmers. The great desideratum in the pearl fisheries—of the seas as
well as in the fresh-water streams—is a restriction of the gathering to
such mollusks and to such seasons and periods of years as produce the
largest results with the least injury to the permanency of the
resources.

It is generally agreed that the young or immature mollusks should be
protected; but it is not easy to determine what is an immature Unio, as
some species never grow large. Likewise, the beds should not be
disturbed when the mollusks are loaded with young, but it is difficult
to select particular months which would be better for close season than
any others. The propositions which seem to be most actively advocated
impose restrictions on the number and size of the mussels to be taken, a
cessation of fishing from January 1 to May 31, closing certain areas
when partly depleted, and prohibiting the use of especially injurious
forms of apparatus. But whatever is done should be done without delay,
before the pearl hunters and the button manufacturers kill the goose
which for some years has been laying the golden eggs.[323]


MISCELLANEOUS PEARL FISHERIES OF AMERICA

The deep’s wealth, coral, and pearl, and sand
Like spangling gold, and purple shells engraven
With mystic legends by no mortal hand.

SHELLEY, _The Revolt of Islam_.

The beautiful pearls of the conch (_Strombus gigas_) are sought for in
the West Indies and on the neighboring continental coasts. They are
found most abundantly about the Bahamas, a group of more than four
hundred islands off the Florida coast, where many of the fishermen
devote a considerable portion of their time to collecting them. It is
from this industry that the beach-combers of this group of islands, as
well as those of the Florida reefs, have received the designation
“Conchs.”

Near the shores, where they formerly abounded, a few conchs are yet
picked up by wading fishermen. In waters of medium depth they are
secured either by diving or by means of a long pole with a hook at the
end. In great depths, the mollusks are located by means of a waterglass
similar to the type employed in the Red Sea or among the South Sea
Islands.

The animal is readily removed from the shell after crushing the tip end
of the spire where the large muscle is attached. The flesh forms an
important article of food to the fishermen and to the residents of the
outlying islands. It is said that a “Conch” can make a visit to Nassau
of a week or ten days, and subsist almost entirely on this dried meat,
with which he fills his pockets on starting. A large demand exists for
the beautiful shells for ornamenting flower-beds, garden-walks, etc.
Many of them are burned into lime for building purposes. Formerly
several hundred thousand shells were exported annually to England for
use in porcelain manufacture.

The pearls are generally found embedded in the flesh of the mollusk;
quite often they are in a sac or cyst with an external opening, from
which they are sometimes dislodged by the muscular movement of the
animal. The yield is small, a thousand shells in many cases yielding
only a very small number of seed-pearls or perhaps none at all. Most of
them are oval, commonly somewhat elongated. The usual size is about one
grain in weight, but some of them weigh over twenty, and a very few
exceed fifty grains each. These pearls are generally of a deep pink
color, shading toward whitish pink at each end. While this is the usual
color, yellow, white, red, and even brown conch pearls are occasionally
obtained; these are not so highly prized as the pink ones. Conch pearls
present a peculiar wavy appearance and a sheen somewhat like watered
silk, a result of the reflections produced by the fibrous stellated
structure. While many are beautifully lustrous, they are commonly
deficient in orient, and the color is somewhat evanescent.

Most of the Bahama conch fishermen sell their catch of pearls at Nassau.
According to the late Mr. Frederick E. Stearns, there are in Nassau four
dealers who have an arrangement with Paris and London houses, to whom
they can ship pearls in any number and draw against them with a bill of
lading. In addition to these, there are a dozen dealers in Nassau who
buy what pearls they can secure and offer them for sale.

The value of conch pearls is as variable as their form, color, and size,
and they are sold by the fishermen at prices ranging from twenty-five
cents to one dollar or more each. Those weighing from three to ten
grains, and of good color and luster, but not quite regular in form,
sell for about $10 per grain; those of exceptional perfection in color
and form, and of about the same weights, sell for from $15 to $30 per
grain. In other and exceptional cases, where the size is very large, the
form perfect, and the color and luster choice, the value is enhanced to
several hundred and even several thousand dollars each. A perfect conch
pearl is among the most rare and most valuable of gems. An unusually
choice one has sold in New York City for more than $5000. The yield
fluctuates considerably, but perhaps averages about $85,000 in value
annually. One of the finest conch pearls ever found is shown on the
plate with the conch shell.

There are two important materials that have occasionally been sold and
mistaken for the conch pearl. First, the pale Italian, Japanese, or West
Indian coral, with a color very closely approaching that of the pearl.
By means of a lens it can readily be seen that the coral is in layers,
and does not possess the concentric structure of the pearl, or the
peculiar interwoven structure, with its characteristic sheen, so
frequent in conch pearls. Secondly, the pink conch shell in which the
pearl itself is found; this is frequently cut to imitate the pearl and
sold as such in the West Indies and elsewhere. This can also be detected
by the fact that the layers are almost horizontal and the structure is
not concentric or interwoven, as it is in the conch pearl, while the
luster is more like that of the shell than that of the pearly nacre.

Streeter relates that many years ago an ingenious American turned out
some bits of conch shell into the shape of pearls and placed them in the
conch shells. A slight secretion formed over them, but it was not the
true pearly secretion, and the layer was very thin, so that the
deception was easily detected.

Not the least interesting of the American pearl fisheries is that which
has the abalones (Haliotis) for its object. These occur in many inshore
tropical and semi-tropical waters, and particularly in the marginal
waters of the Pacific. They attach themselves to the rocks by means of
their large muscular disk-shaped foot, which acts like a sucker or an
exhaust-cup.

On the California coast the abalones are gathered in large quantities
for the pearls, for the shells, and especially for the flesh, which is
dried and used for food. The principal fishing grounds are at Point
Lobos in Monterey County, and along the shores of Catalina and Santa
Rosa islands in Santa Barbara County, with smaller quantities from
Halfmoon Bay and from the rocks along the shores of Mendocino County. At
low tide the fishermen wade out in shallow water, and, by means of a
knife, separate the mollusk from its resting-place. Unless this is done
quickly and before the mollusk has time to prepare itself for the
attack, it closes down on the rock by means of its sucker-like foot,
from which it cannot be removed without breaking the shell. A story is
told at Santa Barbara of a Chinese fisherman having been drowned off one
of the outer islands by having his hand caught underneath the shell of
an abalone.

A few years ago, Japanese fishermen introduced the use of diving-suits
in taking these mollusks in three fathoms of water; but in March, 1907,
the California legislature interdicted this form of fishery. That
legislature also interdicted the capture of black abalones measuring
“less than twelve inches around the outer edge of the shell, or any
other abalone, the shell of which shall measure less than fifteen inches
around the outer edge.”

The animal is removed from the shell by thrusting a thin blade of soft
steel between the flesh and the shell, and thus loosening the great
muscle. The flesh is salted and boiled, and then strung on long rods to
dry in the open air. When properly cured, the pieces are almost as hard
and stiff as sole leather. Most of it is packed in sacks and exported to
China, but large quantities are sold on the Pacific coast at from five
to ten cents per pound. The catch is much less than it was forty years
ago.

Many pearly masses are obtained from the abalones, and a few of these
are of considerable beauty. Some are very large, measuring two inches in
length and half an inch or more in width; but they are rarely of good
form, and their value is commonly far less than that of choice Oriental
pearls. Owing to their irregularity in form, they are scarcely suitable
for necklaces. One of the best necklaces of these pearls ever brought
together sold a few years ago for $2000; but individual specimens have
exceeded $1000 in market value. While abalone pearls are not on the
market in any great quantities, one resident of Santa Barbara has a
collection of more than a thousand specimens, ranging in value from
several hundred dollars to less than one dollar each. Most of the
objects sold in curio and jewelry stores on the Pacific coast as abalone
pearls are simply irregular knots or protuberances cut from the surface
of the shell. The California fishermen are credited with having received
$3000 for the abalone pearls in 1904; but it is safe to say that this
represents only a small fraction of their final sale value.

In the river mussels of Canada, and especially in those from the
Province of Quebec, and the Ungava Region, pearls are occasionally
found. These are usually white and of good luster. They are not the
object of systematic search, but in the aggregate many are secured by
Indians and Eskimos, and some by the trappers and fishermen who operate
from Quebec and Montreal. A number, weighing from one to sixty-five
grains each, were shown at the Colonial Exhibition in London in 1886,
and received favorable notice. Recently, two beautifully matched pink
pearls, weighing about fourteen grains each, were obtained from one
mussel. A single pearl found in Canada has sold for $1000, but as a
general rule they are of relatively little value. The Hudson Bay traders
are represented as having secured a fair share of these pearls.

During the last few years, many pearls have been found in the streams of
Prince Edward Island and of New Brunswick Province, and also in those of
Nova Scotia. Most of them are well formed, but their color is generally
inferior and their luster deficient. Many of them are buff or brown in
color, some are bright and fairly good, a few are rose-tinted, and
others are slate-colored and even almost black. Toronto jewelers report
that many Canadian pearls are in the possession of farmers and others in
the lower provinces, held by them for higher prices than the jewelers
are willing to pay. The Nova Scotia pearls are from a bivalve which has
been identified as _Alasmodon margaritifera_. They are especially
abundant in Annapolis and King counties.

Even in the streams of northern Labrador and of the Caniapuscaw
watershed, pearls are obtained by the natives, and by the hunters and
fishermen who resort to that desolate country. These closely resemble
the pearls of Scotland in color, size, and luster. A story is told of a
fisherman who by chance found in one shell two well-matched pearls,
which he later sold for $150; so pleased was he with his success that he
spent a fortnight in diligent search, but secured only half a dozen
small ones, worth perhaps $3 for the lot. Most of these pearls are
silvery white, but beautiful pink ones are not rare. An unusually choice
20–grain pearl from this region sold in 1905 for $1000.

On the coast of Ecuador, pearl fisheries of minor importance have been
prosecuted from time to time. Dr. H. M. Saville, of the American Museum
of Natural History, states that in his explorations in that country he
frequently came across evidence of pearls and the information that
fisheries had existed on the coast centuries ago.

An interesting letter from that world-wide traveler and interesting
writer, William E. Curtis, states that formerly there was a pearl
fishery on the coast of Ecuador at the little town known as Manta, in
the Province of Manabi; but it had to be abandoned on account of a
particularly voracious species of fish called _el manti_, which abounds
in that locality and gives the place its name. Pearls are said to be
even more abundant at Manta than in Panama Bay. It is reported that this
is the place where the Incas obtained those splendid gems which the
Spaniards found in the palaces and temples of Peru.

In the waters of Costa Rica, pearl-oysters are found, and at times the
fishery has been of considerable local importance. Owing to fear of
injury to the reefs, the use of diving machinery was interdicted there a
few years ago; but in 1906 its employment was authorized under certain
restrictions. Licenses good for six months were authorized for a maximum
of thirty machines, which may work at a minimum depth of thirty-seven
feet.

On the coast of Colombia, South America, scattered reefs of
pearl-oysters occur. A lease of the pearl fisheries and those for corals
and sponges was granted July 2, 1906, but it is unknown what results
have followed. This lease lasts five years, beginning August 1, 1906.

There is almost an absolute paucity of information in regard to the
occurrence of fresh-water pearls in other parts of South America. The
only data we have obtained are from Prof. Eugene Hussak of the Mining
School of Sao Paulo, Brazil, who writes us that some pearls have been
obtained from one of the Bahia rivers. Possibly, when the resources of
the interior of that continent are better known, many pearls may be
found.

 


XI

PEARL-CULTURE AND PEARL-FARMING

 


XI
PEARL-CULTURE AND PEARL-FARMING


Some asked how pearls did grow, and where.
Then spoke I to my girl,
To part her lips, and show them there
The quarelets of pearl.

HERRICK, _The Quarrie of Pearls_.

The great profit that would accrue from an increased output of pearls
has long directed attention to the problem of bringing this about by
artificial means.

In his life of Apollonius of Tyana, Philostratus, a Greek writer of the
third century, repeats a story afloat at the time, which credited the
Arabs of the Red Sea with possessing some method of growing pearls
artificially. The story as it reached Greece was that they first poured
oil upon the sea for the purpose of calming the waves, and then dived
down and caused the oysters to open their shells. Having effected this,
they pricked the flesh with a sharp instrument and received the liquor
which flowed from the wounds into suitable molds, and this liquor there
hardened into the shape, color, and consistence of the natural
gems.[324]

While the description given by Philostratus is charged with many
improbable details, and could scarcely develop belief, even in the most
credulous, as to the exact method of procedure, it seems that the story
may not have been wholly without foundation, and that attempts were made
at that remote date to stimulate the growth of pearls.

In more modern times, the possibility of aiding or starting pearly
formations in mollusks seems first to have been conceived by the Chinese
about the fourteenth century. In 1736 there appeared in that storehouse
of Oriental information, “Lettres édifiantes et curieuses écrites des
missions étrangères,”[325] a communication from F. X. de Entrecolles,
dated Pekin, 4th November, 1734, which set forth that there were people
in China who busied themselves with growing pearls, and the product was
not only vastly superior to the imitations manufactured in Europe, but
were scarcely to be distinguished from the genuine. From Father
Entrecolles’s very detailed quotation of his unnamed Chinese authority,
we condense this account. In a basin one half full of fresh water, place
the largest mussels obtainable, set this basin in a secluded place where
the dew may fall thereon, but where no female approaches, and neither
the barking of dogs nor the crowing of chickens is to be heard.
Pulverize some seed-pearls (_Yo tchu_), such as are commonly used in
medicine, moisten this powder with juice expressed from leaves of a
species of holly (_Che ta-kong lao_), and then roll the moistened powder
into perfectly round pellets the size of a pea. These are permitted to
dry under a moderate sunlight, and then are carefully inserted within
the open shells of the mollusks. Each day for one hundred days the
mussels are nourished with equal parts of powdered ginseng, china root,
_peki_, which is a root more glutinous than isinglass, and of _pecho_,
another medicinal root, all combined with honey and molded in the form
of rice grains.

Although extremely detailed in some particulars, the Chinese account
omits much to be desired as to the method in which the shells were
opened to receive the pellets and the nourishment, and as to the
importance of seclusion from females and loud noises. Admitting that it
is “inaccurate and misleading,” this letter seems to indicate very
clearly that the Chinese had some method of assisting nature in growing
pearls in river mussels.

The first person in Europe whose suggestion of the possibility of
pearl-culture attracted general attention was Linnæus, the Swedish
naturalist (1707–1778). In a letter to Von Haller, the Swiss anatomist,
dated 13th September, 1748, he wrote: “At length I have ascertained the
manner in which pearls originate and grow in shells; and in the course
of five or six years I am able to produce, in any mother-of-pearl shell
the size of one’s hand, a pearl as large as the seed of the common
vetch.”[326] There was much secrecy about Linnæus’s discovery, and even
yet there is uncertainty as to the details of the method.

The Linnean Society of London apparently possesses some of the very
pearls grown by Linnæus, as well as several manuscripts which throw much
light on this subject. It appears from the latter that, under date of
6th February, 1761, Linnæus wrote that he “possessed the art” of
impregnating mussels for pearl production, and offered for a suitable
reward from the state to publish the “secret” for the public use and
benefit. A select committee of the state council of Sweden was appointed
to confer with him, and on 27th July, 1761, the naturalist appeared and
verbally explained his discovery. After various meetings, the select
committee approved the “art” and recommended a compensation of 12,000
dalars (about $4800). It does not appear that the award was paid, and
the following year the secret was purchased by Peter Bagge, a Gothenberg
merchant, for the sum of 6000 dalars. On 7th September, 1762, King
Adolph Frederick issued a grant to this merchant “to practice the art
without interference or competition.”[327]

Peter Bagge was unable to exercise the rights which he had acquired, nor
was he able to dispose of them to advantage. On his death the memorandum
of the secret became lost, and it was not found until about 1821, when
it was discovered by a grandson, J. P. Bagge. Under the date of 27th
February, 1822, the King of Sweden confirmed to this grandson the
privileges which his ancestor had purchased in 1762. Fruitless efforts
were again made to dispose profitably of the rights either to
individuals or to the Swedish government.

The details of Linnæus’s “secret” have never been published
authoritatively. In his “History of Inventions,” Beckmann states that
before the naturalist thought of the profits that might accrue from his
discovery, he intimated the process in the sixth edition of his “Systema
naturæ,” wherein he states: “Margarita testæ excrescentia latere
interiore, dum exterius latus perforatur.”[328] “I once told him,” says
Beckmann, “that I had discovered his secret in his own writings; he
seemed to be displeased, made no inquiry as to the passage, and changed
the discourse.”[329]

In the second volume of his edition of “Linnæus’s Correspondence,”[330]
Sir J. E. Smith remarks: “Specimens of pearls so produced by art in the
_Mya margaritifera_ are in the Linnean cabinet. The shell appears to
have been pierced by flexible wires, the ends of which perhaps remain
therein.” Referring to this remark, J. P. Bagge comments: “This is the
nearest I have seen any one come to truth, but still it will be remarked
by reading the ‘secret’ that more information is required to enable
persons to practice the art.”

After a thorough examination of the manuscripts and other material,
Professor Herdman concludes that the essential points of Linnæus’s
process are to make a very small hole in the shell and insert a round
pellet of limestone fixed at the end of a fine silver wire, the hole
being near the end of the shell so as to interfere only slightly with
the mollusk, and the nucleus being kept free from the interior of the
shell so that the resulting pearl may not become adherent to it by a
deposit of nacre.[331]

Shortly after Linnæus communicated with the Swedish government and
before his death, it was learned in Europe that the art of producing
“culture pearls” by a somewhat similar process had been practised by the
Chinese for centuries.[332] They used several forms of matrices or
nuclei, but principally spheres of nacre and bits of flat metal or
molded lead, which were not infrequently in conventional outline of
Buddha. In the spring or early summer, these were introduced under the
mantle of the living mollusk after the shell had been carefully opened a
fraction of an inch, and the animal was then returned to the pond, or
lake. The mollusk did its work in a leisurely way, like some people who
have little to do, and many months elapsed before it was ready for
opening and the removal of the pearly objects.

The most satisfactory description we have seen of this process appears
to be that communicated nearly a century later to the London Society of
Arts by Dr. D. T. Macgowan,[333] through H. B. M. plenipotentiary in
China, from which this account is abridged and modified.

The industry is prosecuted in two villages near the city of Titsin, in
the northern part of the province of Che-kiang, a silk-producing region.
In May or June large specimens of the fresh-water mussels, _Dipsas
plicatus_, are brought in baskets from Lake Tai-hu, about thirty miles
distant. For recuperation from the journey, they are immersed in fresh
water for a few days in bamboo cages, and are then ready to receive the
matrices.

These nuclei are of various forms and materials, the most common being
spherical beads of nacre, pellets of mud moistened with juice of camphor
seeds, and especially thin leaden images, generally of Buddha in the
usual sitting posture. In introducing these objects, the shell is gently
opened with a spatula of bamboo or of pearl shell, and the mantle of the
mollusk is carefully separated from one surface of the shell with a
metal probe. The foreign bodies are then successively introduced at the
point of a bifurcated bamboo stick, and placed, commonly in two parallel
rows, upon the inner surface of the shell; a sufficient number having
been placed on one valve, the operation is repeated on the other. As
soon as released, the animal closes its shell, thus keeping the matrices
in place. The mussels are then deposited one by one in canals or
streams, or in ponds connected therewith, five or six inches apart, and
where the depth is from two to five feet under water.

If taken up within a few days and examined, the nuclei will be found
attached to the shell by a membranous secretion; later this appears to
be impregnated with calcareous matter, and finally layers of nacre are
deposited around each nucleus, the process being analagous to the
formation of calculary concretions in animals of higher development. A
ridge generally extends from one pearly tumor to another, connecting
them all together. Each month several tubs of night soil are thrown into
the reservoir for the nourishment of the animals. Great care is taken to
keep goat excretia from the water, as it is highly detrimental to the
mussels, preventing the secretion of good nacre or even killing them if
the quantity be sufficient. Persons inexperienced in the management lose
ten or fifteen per cent. by deaths; others lose virtually none in a
whole season.

In November, the mussels are removed from the water and opened, and the
pearly masses are detached by means of a knife. If the matrix be of
nacre, this is not removed; but the earthen and the metallic matrices
are cut away, melted resin or white sealing-wax poured into the cavity,
and the orifice covered with a piece of shell. These pearly formations
have some of the luster and beauty of true pearls, and are furnished at
a rate so cheap as to be procurable by almost any one. Most of them are
purchased by jewelers, who set them in various personal ornaments, and
especially in decorations for the hair. Those formed in the image of
Buddha are used largely for amulets as well as for ornaments. They are
about half an inch long, and while in the shell have a bluish tint,
which disappears with removal of the matrix. Quantities of them are sold
as talismans to pilgrims at the Buddhist shrines about Pooto and
Hang-chau.

In some shells the culture pearls are permitted to remain by the Chinese
growers, for sale as curios or souvenirs; specimens of these have found
their way into many public and private collections of Europe and
America. These shells are generally about seven inches long and four or
five inches broad, and contain a double or triple row of pearls or
images, as many as twenty-five of the former and sixteen of the latter
to each valve. That the animal should survive the introduction of so
many irritating bodies, and in such a brief period secrete a covering of
nacre over them all, is certainly a striking physiological fact. Indeed,
some naturalists have expressed strong doubts as to its possibility,
supposing the forms were made to adhere to the shell by some
composition; but the examination of living specimens in different stages
of growth, with both valves studded with them, has fully demonstrated
its truth.

It is represented that in the northern part of the Che-kiang province
about five thousand families are employed in this work in connection
with rice-growing and silk-culture. To some of them it is the chief
source of income, single families realizing as much as 300 silver
dollars annually therefrom. In the village of Chung-kwan-o, the
headquarters for culture pearls in China, a temple has been erected to
the memory of the originator of this industry, Yu Shun Yang, who lived
late in the thirteenth century, and was an ancestor of many persons now
employed thereby.

The method in vogue in China for so many centuries has been the
starting-point for similar attempts in various other countries. During
the New Jersey pearling excitement in 1857, there were found several
spherical pieces of nacre which had been introduced into Unios
apparently for experimental pearl-culture; and in the collection of
shells bequeathed to the United States National Museum by the late Dr.
Isaac Lea, is a hemispherical piece of candle grease partly coated with
pinkish nacre. Kelaart applied the Chinese method to the Ceylon
pearl-oysters with much success in 1858. At the Berlin Fisheries
Exhibition, in 1880, appeared the results of experiments in growing
culture pearls in the river mussels in Saxony. Small foreign bodies had
been introduced in the mantle, and others had been inserted between the
mantle and the shell. These nuclei consisted of shell beads, unsightly
pearls from other mussels, etc.; but unfortunately the shape of these
was such that the mantle could not fit closely around them, consequently
the result was so irregular as to be of no value except to show that
German Unios as well as those of China could be made to cover foreign
objects with pearly material.

Professor Herdman notes that, between 1751 and 1754, an inspector named
Frederick Hedenberg received an annual salary “to inoculate the
pearl-mussels of Lulea (in the northern part of Sweden) with
‘pearl-seeds’ which he manufactured, and then to replant the mussels.
Certain pearls were produced by the inspector, which it is recorded were
sold for some 300 silver dollars.”[334]

As noted by Broussonnet, in Finland artificial pearls were produced by
inserting a round piece of nacre between the inner face of the shell and
the mantle. The owner of the pearl fisheries at Vilshofen has succeeded
in producing pearly figures by introducing into the mollusk flat figures
of pewter, most of them representing fish in form.

In 1884, Bouchon-Brandely made experiments in pearl production at
Tahiti. Gimlet holes about half an inch in diameter were drilled through
different places in the shells of pearl-oysters, and through each of
these holes a pellet of nacre or of glass was inserted and held by brass
wire passing through a stopper of cork or burao wood, by means of which
each opening was hermetically closed, so that the pellet was the only
foreign substance protruding on the inside of the shell.[335] The
oysters were returned to the sea without further injury, and after the
lapse of a month the pellets were found covered with thin layers of
nacre.

Experiments in growing pearls in the abalone or Haliotis were made in
1897 by Louis Bouton, an account of which was given at the meeting of
the Paris Académie des Sciences in 1898.[336] The tenacity of life in
this mollusk makes it especially desirable for experiments of this
nature. Through small holes bored into the shell, pellets of
mother-of-pearl were inserted and placed within the mantle, the small
holes being afterward closed up. Other nacreous pellets were introduced
directly into the bronchial cavity. The objects were soon covered with
thin, pearly layers, resulting in a few months in spheres of much
beauty, resembling somewhat the pearls naturally produced by this
mollusk. In six months, according to M. Bouton, the layers became of
sufficient thickness to be attractive. Within limitations, the size of
the pearl produced is in proportion to the length of time it is allowed
to remain within the mollusk. The results of the experiments seem to
encourage further efforts in this line, and possibly in course of time
there may be a profitable business in growing pearls in abalones on the
Pacific coast of the United States. Indeed, the experiments in
transplanting and cultivating the pearl-oyster in Australia leads one to
fancy that the culture of that species in the warm coastal waters of
America is by no means an impossibility.

Many other experiments along similar lines have been made more recently.
An interesting feature of attempts made by Mr. Vane Simmonds of Cedar
Rapids, Iowa, in 1896–1898, is that in order to avoid straining the
adductor muscles by forcibly opening the shell while the mollusk
resisted the intrusion, each selected Unio was exposed in the open air
and sunshine until the valves opened; then a wooden wedge was carefully
inserted in the opening, and the mollusk immediately immersed in water
to revive it or to sustain life. After a few moments of immersion, the
operator carefully raised the mantle from the shell, inserted the pellet
of wax or other small article to be covered with nacre, drew the mantle
to its normal position, removed the wedge, and returned the mollusk to a
selected place in the stream at sufficient depth to avoid danger of
freezing in winter.

Probably it would be more satisfactory to stupefy the mollusks by means
of some chemical in order to insert the pellets. Marine mollusks have
been successfully stupefied by slowly adding magnesium sulphate crystals
to the sea water until the animals no longer respond to contact. If
treatment is not too prolonged, they may be returned to normal sea water
with good prospects of recovery. To stupefy fresh-water mollusks, either
chloral hydrate or chlorosone may be employed, although the latter is
expensive to use in great quantity. Dr. Charles B. Davenport, of the
Carnegie Institution, suggests that it might be well to experiment with
pouring ether or chloroform over them.

In Japan the production of these pearly formations in _Margaritifera
martensi_, which is closely related to the Ceylon oyster, has developed
into some prominence since 1890, and the results have been well
advertised. The industry is located in Ago Bay, near the celebrated
temple of Ise in the province of Shima, and gives employment to about
one hundred persons. It is stated that the proprietor, Kokichi Mikimoto,
has leased about one thousand acres of sea bottom, on which are a
million oysters of this species, which yield from 30,000 to 50,000
culture pearls annually.

As described by Dr. K. Mitsukuri, the shoal portions of this area are
used for breeding the oysters and raising them to maturity, and in the
deeper parts—covered by several fathoms of water—the oysters are
specially treated for producing the culture pearls. In the former, the
spat is collected on small stones, weighing six or eight pounds each,
placed during May or June. The following November these stones, with the
attached spat or young, are removed, for protection from cold, to depths
greater than five or six feet, where they remain for about three years.
At the end of that period, the growing oysters are taken from the water,
the shells opened slightly, and rounded bits of pearl shell or nacre are
introduced under the mantle without injury to the mollusks. About
300,000 are thus treated annually, and placed in the deeper water at the
rate of about one to each square foot of bottom area. After the lapse of
about four years more, the oysters are removed from the water and
opened, when a large percentage of the pellets are found covered on the
upper or exposed surface with nacre of good luster.

Most of these culture pearls are button-shaped and weigh two or three
grains each. Although somewhat attractive and superior to the culture
pearls of China and other fresh waters, they by no means compare
favorably with choice pearls. They are rarely, if ever, spherical, and
only the upper surface is lustrous; consequently they serve only the
purpose of half-pearls. A cross section shows the nacreous growth in a
thin concentric layer, forming a fragile hemispherical cap, the concave
wall of which is covered with a brownish granular secretion which
prevents perfect adhesion. Compared with choice pearls, they are not
only deficient in luster, but are fragile, and are beautiful only on the
upper surface, and not available for necklaces. Good specimens sell for
several dollars each, and some individuals reach $50 or more. Specimens
exhibited at the Paris Exposition in 1900 were awarded a silver medal;
at the St. Petersburg Exhibition in 1902 they were awarded a gold medal;
at the Tokio Exhibition a grand prize, and a medal at the St. Louis
Exposition in 1904. The awards were given in the fisheries, and not the
gem divisions.

The work of Mikimoto is not the only attempt now being made in Japan to
produce pearls. A letter from Dr. T. Nishikawa, of the Tokio Imperial
University, states: “It is a great pleasure for me to tell you that I am
studying pearl formation and pearl-oyster culture in the university
laboratory, and recently I have got my pearl laboratory at Fukura, on
the Island of Awaji, where I began the pearl-culture work this summer
(1907). Fortunately, I found the cause of Japanese pearl formation,
_i.e._, the reason why and how the pearl is produced in the tissue of an
oyster. I made practical application of this theory with great prospects
for producing the natural and true pearls at will.”

Among the most interesting of the pearl-culture enterprises are those of
the Compañia Criadora de Concha y Perla, under the direction of Sr.
Gaston J. Vives, in the Gulf of California. This company has an
extensive station at San Gabriel, near La Paz, where breeding oysters
are placed in prepared chests or cages for collecting the spat on trays.
After remaining there for several weeks or months, the young mollusks
are removed to prepared places (_viveros_) for further growth.
Experiments are now made in depositing them between a series of parallel
dams alternately touching each shore of a lagoon, thus developing a
current of water over the oysters for conveying food to them, and thus
hastening their growth.

In efforts to increase the output of pearls, attention has been given to
the possibilities for extending the area and production of the reefs,
and for stocking new areas and replenishing exhausted ones, thus
bringing the pearl-bearing mollusks to maturity in greater abundance.

Although theoretically it does not seem a very difficult undertaking to
cultivate the pearl-oysters by methods somewhat similar to the
cultivation of edible oysters and clams, in no part of the world has
this been successfully done on an extensive scale. While in certain
minor cases, the areas of some species of pearl mollusks have been
extended indirectly through man’s agency—as the range of the Red Sea
pearl-oyster into the Mediterranean since the Suez Canal was
opened—there is no well-known instance in which new areas have been
abundantly populated through direct efforts.

In the chapter on the pearl fisheries of Asia are noted the hitherto
unsuccessful efforts made in Ceylon and India to preserve the young and
immature oysters on the storm-swept reefs by removing them to less
exposed areas. This has received close attention from the Ceylon
authorities during the last two years. Other practical measures which
are recommended for that region include “cultching,” or the deposit of
suitable solid material, such as shells or broken stone, to which the
young oysters can attach themselves; thinning out overcrowded reefs, and
cleaning the beds by means of a dredge, thereby removing starfish and
other injurious animals. The attempts made by individuals and
associations to extend the range of the reefs on the coast of Australia,
among the Tuamotu Islands, in the Gulf of California, and some other
localities, are noted in the appropriate chapters. But it may be stated
that in most instances lack of adequate police protection has been not
the least of the difficulties with which these experiments have had to
contend.

Nor has much greater success followed upon efforts to prevent the
exhaustion of the reefs and productive grounds through overfishing,
except in those instances in which the government exercises a
proprietory interest and determines the season, the area to be fished,
and the quantity of mollusks to be removed. The most prominent instance
of this is in Ceylon, where the fishery has been restricted to such
seasons and periods as appeared to insure the maximum yield of pearls.
Without restriction upon the fishery, the pearl-oyster in that populous
region would doubtless become almost extinct in a few years. Another
instance of proprietory interest on the part of the government is in
some of the German States, where pearl fishing has been regulated and
restricted for centuries. But there the sewage from cities and factories
has accomplished almost as effectively, if less rapidly, what
unrestricted fishing would have done.

Much attention has been given to the subject of pearl-culture in
Bavaria, where the government has granted a small subsidy to encourage
this industry, and a model pearl-mussel bank has been established in one
of the brooks for the rational culture of the mussels.

On the Australian coast, the only theoretical protection of consequence
is the restriction on taking small or immature oysters; but, owing to
the great area over which the fisheries are prosecuted there, it has not
been possible to enforce the regulations. At some of the Pacific islands
and elsewhere, interdictions exist as to use of certain apparatus of
capture, but this is intended for the purpose of reserving the industry
to dependent natives rather than for protecting the reefs. Several
efforts have been made to insure adequate protection for the Unios in
our American rivers, but nothing in this direction has yet been
accomplished by legislative enactment, except in Illinois.

Reference has already been made to the parasitic stage of Unios.[337]
The attachment of the newly-hatched mollusks to the gills or fins of a
fish is entirely a matter of chance, and unless this takes place they
die within a few days. Under natural conditions the fish thus infected
will rarely be found carrying as many of the parasitic Unios as they can
without serious injury. If the fish are placed in a tank or a pond
containing large numbers of newly-hatched Unios, it is possible to bring
about the attachment of hundreds of them for every one that would be
found there by chance of nature. A fish six inches in length may thus be
made to carry several hundred parasitic Unios, and thus a thousand fish
artificially infected may do the work of several hundred thousand in a
state of nature. Experiments with small numbers of fish under
observation in the laboratory indicate that their infection on a large
scale is entirely possible, and the experiment by Messrs. Lefevre and
Curtis now in progress at La Crosse, Wisconsin, in which over 25,000
young fish have been infected, gives every indication that such work may
be begun even with the scanty knowledge now possessed.

Since it has already been shown that the production of pearls is an
abnormal condition, it does not follow that an increase in the quantity
of mollusks would necessarily result in a corresponding increase in the
yield of pearls. Indeed, it might even be that the artificial conditions
bringing about an enhanced prosperity and abundance of the mollusks
would result in a corresponding decrease in the product of gems, the
improved surroundings impairing if not destroying the conditions to
which the pearls owe their origin. This has resulted in directing
efforts toward abnormally increasing the abundance of pearls in a
definite number of mollusks.

The development of the parasitic theory of pearl formation has naturally
invited attention to the possibilities of increasing the yield of pearls
by inoculating healthy mollusks with distomid parasites. It does not
appear that this has yet advanced beyond the experimental stage, and
virtually all that has been accomplished has been set forth in the
chapter on the origin of pearls. It seems that there are great
possibilities in the artificial production along these lines; and that
under skilful management it could be made a profitable industry,
especially if carried on concurrently with the systematic cultivation of
mother-of-pearl shells.

Although there is scientific basis for the belief that it may be
possible in time to bring about pearl growth in this manner, the public
should not be too hasty in financing companies soliciting capital for
establishing so-called “pearl farms.” Every once in a while announcement
is made in the public press of wonderful success which has been attained
by some investigator, who surrounds his discovery with as much mystery
as enveloped the Keeley motor, and who is as anxious to sell stock as
was the owner of that mythical invention. A prospectus of one of these
“pearl syndicates,” which is now before us, claims to “increase and
hasten pearl production by forcing the oyster, through doctoring the
water in which it is immersed and also by irritating the mollusk
itself.” So far as the writers are aware, aside from the inexpensive but
somewhat attractive culture pearls, no commercial success has yet
followed the many attempts at artificial production.

This chapter should not close without reference to the so-called
“breeding pearls,” probably the most curious of all theories of pearl
growth, regarding which many inquiries have been made. Throughout the
Malay Archipelago there exists a generally accepted belief that if
several selected pearls of good size are sealed in a box with a few
grains of rice for nourishment they will increase in number as well as
in size. If examined at the expiration of one year, small pearls may be
found strewn about the bottom of the box, according to the theory; and
in some instances the original pearls themselves will be found to have
increased in size. If again inclosed for a further period of a year or
more, the adherents of the theory say, the seed-pearls will further
increase in size, and additional seed-pearls will form. Furthermore, the
grains of rice will present the appearance of having been nibbled or as
though a rodent had taken a bite in the end of each.

It is claimed that the breeding pearls are obtained from several species
of mollusks, mostly from the Margaritifera, but also from the Tridacna
(giant clam) and the Placuna (window shell). While cotton is the usual
medium in which the pearls and rice are retained, some collectors
substitute fresh water and yet others prefer salt water. It seems that
rice is considered essential to success.

The earliest account we have seen of this extraordinary belief was given
by Dr. Engelbert Kæmpfer,[338] who was connected with the Dutch embassy
to Japan from 1690 to 1696, and since that time it has been referred to
by many travelers in the Malay Archipelago.

A correspondent in the time-honored “Notes and Queries,” 20th September,
1862, writes:

Nearly five years ago, while staying with friends in Pulo Penang
(Straits of Malacca), I was shown by the wife of a prominent
merchant five small pearls, which had increased and multiplied in
her possession. She had set them aside for about 12 months in a
small wooden box, packed in soft cotton and with half a dozen grains
of common rice. On opening the box at the expiration of that time,
she found four additional pearls, about the size of a small pinhead
and of much beauty, which I saw and examined not long after the lady
made the discovery. While my story may be received with laughter, I
can most solemnly assure you of the truth of my having seen these
pearls, and I have not the slightest doubt of the perfect
truthfulness of the lady who possessed them. I questioned an eminent
Malay merchant of Penang on this subject, and he assured me that one
of his daughters had once possessed a similar growth of pearls.[339]

Notwithstanding the apparent absurdity of this pearl-breeding theory,
belief in it appears to be not only sincere but wide-spread, as can be
attested by any one familiar with affairs in the archipelago. A critical
examination into the matter was made in 1877 by Dr. N. B. Dennys,
curator of the Raffles Museum at Singapore, the result of which was
communicated to the Straits branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, 28th
February, 1878.[340] From his numerous quotations of persons who gave
the results of their experiences we extract two instances. One gentleman
had 120 small pearls in addition to the five breeding ones with which
the experiment had started twenty years before, and during the entire
period the box had not been molested except that it was opened
occasionally for inspection by interested persons. Another experimentor
inclosed three breeding pearls with a few grains of rice on 17th July,
1874; on opening the box on 14th July, 1875, nine additional pearls were
discovered, and the three original ones appeared larger.

The belief has many curious variations. It is stated that in Borneo and
the adjacent islands, many of the fishermen reserve every ninth pearl
regardless of its size, and put the collection in a small bottle which
is kept corked with a dead man’s finger. According to Professor
Kimmerly, nearly every burial-place along the Borneo coast has been
desecrated in searching for “corks” for these bottles, and almost every
hut has its dead-finger bottle, with from ten to fifty “breeding pearls”
and twice that number of rice grains.[341] A correspondent at Sandakan,
North Borneo, writes that at the time of his death at Hongkong in 1901,
Dr. Dennys had in his possession a small box containing “breeding
pearls”; but these disappeared after his death, and his brother, the
crown solicitor, was unable to find them. This correspondent also states
that the Ranee of Sarawak, a British protectorate in western Borneo, has
a collection of “breeding pearls” numbering about two hundred, and that
this is the only large collection known at present.

As contrasted with abundant and unquestionably sincere testimony that
pearls do “breed,” it may be stated that absolutely no result has
followed one or two native experiments made under supervision. While it
must be admitted that negative evidence is always weaker than positive,
and twenty failures would be outweighed by one successful experiment,
yet the scientific objections to the possibility of pearls “breeding”
cannot be overcome. The phenomenon is doubtless one of those curiosities
of natural history in which some important factor has been overlooked.

Another curious theory is that peculiar pearls continue to grow after
removal from the mollusk in which they originate. Quite recently it was
reported from New Durham, North Carolina, that a pearl found there in
1896 had been growing continually since it was found and removed from
the water. Unfortunately, it was weighed only when the last observation
was made, and its increased size doubtless existed only in the
imagination of its possessor.

 


XII

MYSTICAL AND MEDICINAL PROPERTIES OF PEARLS

 


XII
MYSTICAL AND MEDICINAL PROPERTIES OF PEARLS


Divers are the virtues of gems; some give favor in the sight of
lords; some protect against fire; others make people beloved; others
give wisdom; some render men invisible; others repel lightning; some
baffle poisons; some protect and augment treasures, and others cause
that husbands should love their wives.

Arabic version of Solomon’s writings.

While no special gems are mentioned in the tribute which the Arabs
credit to Solomon, it seems that pearls must certainly have been
included, for in nearly all countries where these gems have been prized
and from the earliest period, they have been credited with mystic
properties and healing virtues.

In the first chapter of this book, reference was made to the
Atharvaveda, dating from at least 2400 years ago, and its allusion to
the use of an amulet of pearl shell and of pearls among the Hindus in
bestowing long life and prosperity upon young Brahmanical disciples. As
this amulet is fastened upon the youth, the following hymn is recited,
according to this ancient Veda of the Atharvans:

Born of the wind, the atmosphere, the lightning, and the light, may
this pearl shell, born of gold, protect us from straits!

With the shell which was born in the sea, at the head of bright
substances, we slay the Rakshas and conquer the Atrins [devouring
demons].

With the shell [we conquer] disease and poverty; with the shell,
too, the Sadanvas. The shell is our universal remedy; the pearl
shall protect us from straits!

Born in the heavens, born in the sea, brought on from the river
[Sindhu], this shell, born of gold, is our life-prolonging amulet.

The amulet, born from the sea, a sun, born from Vritra [the cloud],
shall on all sides protect us from the missiles of the gods and the
Asuras!

Thou art one of the golden substances, thou art born from Soma [the
moon]. Thou art sightly on the chariot, thou art brilliant on the
quiver.

(May it prolong our lives!) The bone of the gods turned into pearl;
that, animated, dwells in the waters. That do I fasten upon thee
unto life, luster, strength, longevity, unto a life lasting a
hundred autumns. May the amulet of pearl protect thee![342]

The mystical Taoists, in their pursuit of immortality, made much of
pearls as an important ingredient in formulæ for perpetuating youth.
According to an old Taoist authority, in preparing one of these elixirs,
an extra long pearl which has been worn for many years is steeped in
some infusion of malt, or a preparation of serpents’ gall, honeycomb,
and pumice-stone. When the pearl becomes plastic, it is drawn out to the
length of two or three feet, cut into suitable lengths, and formed into
pills, the taking of which renders food thenceforth unnecessary.[343]

The myth of the dragon and the pearl has been a far-reaching theme of
the artists in Japan and China, whether in color, metal, or stone. There
has been much written as to how the myth became so fixed in the minds of
the Orientals, and Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria, who has made an
exhaustive study of the myth of the dragon in all its phases, has very
courteously communicated to us the following facts. Personally he had
never been able to learn of a true or clear description of the origin of
the myth other than the well-recorded legend given by Legge in the
“Sacred Books of the East” (Vol. XL, p. 211), in which there is a
quotation from Shuangtze, a writer of the fourth century before Christ,
who says: “Near the Ho river there was a poor man, who supported his
family by weaving rushes. His son, when diving in a deep pool, found a
pearl worth a thousand ounces of silver. The father said: ‘Bring a stone
and beat it in pieces. A pearl of this value must have been in a pool
nine khung deep and under the chin of the black dragon. That you were
able to get it must have been owing to your having found him asleep. Let
him awake, and the consequences will not be small.’” Prince Rupprecht
says:

This legend has nothing to do with the illustration to which you
refer; it belongs to a cycle of myths concerning a stone in the head
of a serpent, or the crown of the king of the serpents or dragons;
myths which also exist in Germany since the days of old. I should
rather be inclined to think that the commonly accepted pearl between
the two dragons is not a pearl at all. At least this pearl is always
surrounded by ornaments in the shape of flames or claws, and
Professor Hirth discovered on such a representation in woodcut, an
explanation of the flames by the sign for Yangsui, a very ancient
kind of metallic mirrors, of concave form, that were used to produce
the heavenly fire.

This explanation is probably erroneous and due to a misunderstanding
of the signs for flames. In my opinion, another explanation, that
the pearl is not really a pearl but a spider, is nearer to the
truth. As an argument in favor of this theory the following sentence
may be quoted from an encyclopedia of the eleventh century
(“Pieu-tzi-lei,” chap. 223): “The pearl of a fish is its eye, the
pearl of a tortoise is its foot, the pearl of the spider is its
belly.” Pearl, as well as spider, are both called in Chinese by the
same word but are written in a different way.

I, for my part, believe that the pearl is the belly not indeed of a
spider, but of Garuda, the eagle of Vishnu, known in the old Hindu
mythology as the foe of the Vagas, beings with human bodies and the
tails of serpents. At least, I found on an old Chinese gateway,
dating back to the times of the Mongol emperors, a sculpture showing
the contest between Garuda and the Vagas. On another sculpture of
the late King epoch the Vagas are already changed into dragons, and
the wings, the limbs and the head of Garuda have become quite
insignificant, while his belly is prominent like a ball.

A beautiful metaphor occurs in ancient Chinese writings, in the Book of
the Later Han,[344] for instance, which regards this gem as the hidden
soul of the oyster.

There is no end of legends and myths regarding the pearl in oriental
literature. One fable credits it with a peculiar magical power: by
speaking the right word, a spirit can be called therefrom which makes
the owner a possessor of all the happiness of the earth. Browning notes
this in two exquisite stanzas, “A Pearl, a Girl,” published on the day
of his death in 1889, in which he compares this characteristic with a
woman’s love called forth by the mystic word.

A simple ring with a single stone.
To the vulgar eye no stone of price;
Whisper the right word, that alone—
Forth starts a sprite, like fire from ice,
And lo, you are lord (says an Eastern scroll)
Of heaven and earth, lord whole and sole,
Through the power in a pearl.

A woman (’tis I this time that say)
With little the world counts worthy praise;
Utter the true word—out and away
Escapes her soul: I am wrapt in blaze,
Creation’s lord, of heaven and earth,
Lord whole and sole—by a minute’s birth—
Through the love in a girl.

In the folk-song of Servia is a pretty little poem which testifies to
the love they bear to pearls:

A youth unmated prays to God,
To turn him to pearls in the sea,
Where the maidens come to fill their urns;
That so they might gather him into their laps,
And string him on a fine green thread,
And wear him pendant from the neck;
That he might hear what each one said,
And whether his loved one spoke of him.

His prayer was granted and he lay
Turned to pearls in the dark blue sea,
Where the maidens come to fill their urns;
Then quickly they gather him into their laps,
And string him on a green silk thread,
And wear him pendant from the neck;
So he hears what each one says of her own
And what his loved one says of him.[345]

In the days when romance and chivalry held sway in Europe, pearls and
other favors were presented by ladies for the brave knights to wear at
tournaments. And we are told in the Arthurian legends how Elaine, “the
lily maid of Astolat,” gave to Sir Lancelot “a red sleeve of scarlet,
embroidered with great pearls,” for him to wear on his helmet: and “then
to her tower she climbed and took the shield, there kept it and so lived
in fantasy”; while he fought and won at the tilt, “wearing her scarlet
sleeve, tho’ carved and cut, and half the pearls away.”[346]

The sweet sentiment of purity associated with the pearl ennobles it
above all other gems. Rabanus Maurus, archbishop of Mainz, wrote, about
850, that “mystically, the pearl signifies the hope of the Kingdom of
Heaven, or charity and the sweetness of celestial life.”[347] True, it
was not among the twelve gems which adorned the breastplate of the high
priest of the Temple, symbolical of the twelve apostles. A Father of the
Church—St. Augustine, we believe—explains this by saying that it was
reserved for a more sacred office, that of representing Christ himself.

Pearl signifies purity, innocence, humility, and a retiring spirit. All
stones of the gray color of the pearl have the significances which are
given to this beautiful gem.[348]

Unlike other gems, the pearl comes to us perfect and beautiful, direct
from the hand of nature. Other precious stones receive careful treatment
from the lapidary, and owe much to his art. The pearl, however, owes
nothing to man. Perhaps this has much to do with the sentiments we
cherish for it. It touches us with the same sense of simplicity and
sweetness as the mountain daisy or the wild rose. It is absolutely a
gift of nature, on which man cannot improve. We turn from the brilliant,
dazzling ornament of diamonds or emeralds to a necklace of pearls with a
sense of relief, and the eye rests upon it with quiet, satisfied repose
and is delighted with its modest splendor, its soft gleam, borrowed from
its home in the depths of the sea. It seems truly to typify steady and
abiding affection, which needs no accessory or adornment to make it more
attractive. And there is a purity and sweetness about it which makes it
especially suitable for the maiden.

The idea of pearly purity is inseparably linked with the name Margaret,
derived from the Persian _Murwari_ (pearl, or child of light) through
the Greek μαργαρίτης. This name—beautiful in sound as well as in
origin—is popular in all European countries, and likewise are its
abbreviations and diminutives: in Italian, Margherita and Rita; in
French, Marguerite, Margot, and Groten; in German, Margarethe, Gretchen,
and Grethel; and in English, Margaret, Marjorie, Madge, Maggie, Peggy,
etc.

The use of the word as a proper name among the early Christians was
doubtless suggested by the sweet simplicity and loveliness of the pearl,
and by the beautiful symbolical references to this gem in the
Scriptures; and the meaning of the name has been strengthened by the
pure lives and the good deeds of the many beautiful Margarets in all
lands, including the virgin martyr, St. Margaret of Antioch, “the mild
maid of God” referred to in the Liturgy, who, before the fifth century,
was the embodiment of feminine innocence and faith overcoming evil, and
who is often represented wearing a string of pearls; also St. Margaret
Ætheling of the eleventh century, who endeared the name in Scotland, was
canonized in 1215, and was adopted as the patron saint of Scotland in
1673; and Margaret, “Pearl of Bohemia,” so beloved by the Danes.

Especially among the Germans has the name a tender significance; with
them it is symbolical of maidenly sweetness and purity associated with
richness of womanhood, such as was typified by Goethe in the heroine of
his “Faust.” This idea may have impelled Wordsworth in the selection of
a name for the lovely, girlish character in his “Excursion”; and
Tennyson for his “Sweet pale Margaret,” and likewise Scott for “Ladye
Margaret, the flower of Teviot.” With the memory of these lives and
characters before her, many a loving mother has crystallized the hope
entertained for a baby daughter by enriching her with this beautiful
name.

Poets seem never to tire of using the pearl as a symbol of perfection in
form, in purity, in luster, and in sweetness. But probably none has made
a more lovely comparison than Owen Meredith:

As pure as a pearl,
And as perfect: a noble and innocent girl.[349]

The Oriental poets unite with those of the West in their love for this
gem, and those gifted writers are lavish in its use. Let us but add the
lament of Shabl Abdullah on the death of Nozami:

Nozami’s gone, our fairest pearl is lost.
From purest dew, kind Heaven had given her birth,
And then had fashioned her the pearl supreme.
She softly shone, but hidden from mankind,
So God has now restored her to her shell.

Far more crude, but possibly equally pathetic, is that old epitaph from
Yorkshire, England:

In shells and gold pearls are not kept alone,
A Margaret here lies beneath a stone.

In the seventeenth century, Pierre de Rosnel wrote in a burst of
enthusiasm:

The pearl is a jewel so perfect that its excellent beauty demands
the love and esteem of the whole universe. Suidas expresses himself
in regard to it thus: “The possession of the pearl is one of love’s
greatest delights; the delight of possessing it suffices to feed
love.” In a painting, Philostratus, who had the same ideas, has
represented cupids with bows enriched with pearls; and the ancients
were all agreed to dedicate the pearl to Venus. Now, to my thinking,
the reason for their so doing was, that inasmuch as this goddess of
love, the fairest of all divinities, is descended from heaven and is
formed of the sea, so in like manner the pearl—the loveliest of all
gems—is formed in the sea and is the offspring of the dew of heaven.
But he that would learn more of the excellence of the pearl, let him
inquire of the ladies, who will relate much more in its praise than
I can write, and who will doubtless confess that nothing else so
well adorns them.[350]

Emblematic as the pearl is of maidenly purity and sweetness, it is
deemed especially appropriate as a wedding gift. This use dates from the
earliest dawn of Hindu civilization, when the beloved Krishna drew it
from the sea to decorate his beautiful daughter on her nuptial day. And
among the Hindus not uncommonly the presentation of a virgin pearl and
its piercing forms part of the marriage ceremony. In most of the
European royal weddings in recent years, pearls have been prominent
among the bridal gifts; nor have they been overlooked among the presents
to American brides, including one much in the public print about 1906,
for whom a necklace of them was selected by a neighboring republic as an
appropriate present.

The dedication of the pearl to love and marriage appears to have been
recognized by the artistic Greeks. One of the choicest engravings
preserved from classic times is a magnificent sardonyx showing the
marriage of Cupid and Psyche, in which the lovers are united by what
some authorities consider a string of pearls—emblematic of conjugal
bonds—by means of which the god Hymen leads them to the nuptial
couch.[351] This engraved gem now forms one of the choicest objects in
the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, having been purchased at the sale of the
Marlborough gems, London, 1898, at a cost of about $10,000.

And yet in Western countries the ill omen of pearls as bridal ornaments
has been widely recognized, these determining the tears that will be
shed in the married life. As Milton says, referring to the Marchioness
of Winchester:

And those pearls of dew she wears,
Prove to be presaging tears.

It was told that when the Empress Eugénie of France was finishing her
toilet preparatory to her wedding in Notre Dame in 1853, a personal
attendant reminded her of the omen, and begged that she refrain from
wearing her pearl necklace on that occasion. Eugenie paid no heed to the
warning and wore the beautiful jewels just the same; and, as all the
world knows, her life has been one long tragedy. Since that necklace was
a lengthy one, containing very many pearls, the bride who wears only a
few on her wedding day need not dread the adage so much, for,
unfortunately, no woman’s life is wholly free from grief; and most
brides would doubtless risk a few tears rather than refuse to wear a
wedding gift of pearls.

It was a very old idea that to dream of pearls betokens tears. A
suggestion of this occurs in John Webster’s “Duchess of Malfi” (1623),
Act III, sc. 5:

_Duchess_: I had a very strange dream to-night;
Methought I wore my coronet of state,
And on a sudaine all the diamonds
Were chang’d to pearles.

_Antonio_: My interpretation
Is, you’ll weepe shortly;
For to me the pearles
Doe signifie your teares.

And we quote also from “The Parson’s Wedding” (1663), Act II, sc. 5,
where Jolly exclaims: “What! in thy dumps, brother? The captain sad!
’Tis prophetic. I’d as lieve have dreamt of pearl, or the loss of my
teeth.”

Tradition relates that Queen Margaret Tudor, wife of James IV of
Scotland, just before the battle of Flodden Field (1513), had many fears
as to the disastrous issue of that conflict, owing to having dreamed on
three nights in succession that all her jewels were suddenly turned into
pearls. This was interpreted as a sign of coming widowhood and sorrow,
which was soon verified; and a similar story is told of Marie de’ Medici
shortly before the murder of Henry IV of France in 1610.

The employment of pearls medicinally dates from an ancient period. This
use is mentioned in the oldest existing Sanskrit medical work, the
“Charaka-Samhita,”[352] composed early in the Christian era; and
likewise in the somewhat more modern “Susruta,”[353] which probably
originated before the eighth century.

It is particularly in Oriental countries that therapeutic properties
have been credited to pearls. The powder of these gems has been rated
very highly there, and is still used to some extent. It was considered
beneficial in cases of ague, indigestion, and hemorrhages, and was
regarded as possessing stimulative qualities. Medical literature of the
Orient contains many accounts of the uses of pearls and of the methods
of forming them into pills, ointments, etc.

According to a treatise written by Narahari, a physician of Kashmir,
about 1240 A.D., the pearl cures diseases of the eyes, is an antidote to
poisons, cures consumption and morbid disturbances, and increases
strength and general health.[354]

In China, as well as in other Asiatic countries, a distinction was made
in the therapeutic effects of so-called “virgin” pearls and of those
pierced or bored for stringing. The Chinese natural history of Li Shi
Chin, completed about 1596, states that bored pearls will not serve for
medicine, for which unpierced ones should be used. It further adds that
the taste is saltish, sweetish, and cold; and that they benefit the
liver, clear the eyes, and cure deafness. Dr. T. Nishikawa informs us
that at the present time many Mytilus seed-pearls are exported from
Japan to China for medicinal purposes.

Quoting principally from Ahmed Teifashi, Whitelow Ainslie wrote in 1825
that Arabian physicians suppose the powder of the pearl to have virtues
in weak eyes; and they credit it with efficacy in palpitations, nervous
tremors, melancholia, and hemorrhage. Also they have this strange
notion, that when applied externally and while in the shell, it cures
leprosy.[355]

Statements of the curative properties of pearls come also from Japan at
a somewhat recent date. The catalogue of the National Exhibition at Yedo
in 1877, Part V, page 78, notes that they soothe the heart, lessen
phlegm, are an antidote to poison, and cure fever, smallpox, and
blear-eyedness.

The popular modern idea in India as to the therapeutic value was thus
expressed by a native prince, Sourindro Mohun Tagore, Mus. Doc., the
Maharajah of Tagore, in 1881:

The use of pearls conduces to contentment of mind and to strength of
body and soul. The burnt powder of this gem, if taken with water as
sherbet, cures vomiting of blood of all kinds. It prevents evil
spirits working mischief in the minds of men, takes off bad smell
from the mouth, cures lunacy of all descriptions and all mental
diseases, jaundice and all diseases of the heart, intestines and
stomach. Burnt pearl mixed with water and taken into the nostrils,
as a powder, takes away headsickness, cures cataract, lachryma and
swelling of the eyes, the painful sensation such as is caused by the
entry of sand into them, and ulcers. Used as a dentifrice, it
strengthens the gums and cleanses the teeth. Rubbed on the body with
other medicines, it cures all skin diseases. It stops bleeding from
cuts and ultimately heals them up. Whether taken internally or
externally, it is a sure antidote to poison. It drives away all
imaginary fears and removes all bodily pain. To prevent its tendency
to affect the brain, it should always be used with the burnt powder
of basud, and in its absence with that of white mother-of-pearl. The
dose of pearl-powder should not exceed 2¼ mashas [19.68 grs.].[356]

The Hindus credited specific virtues to pearls of different colors: the
yellow brought wealth, the honey shade fostered understanding, the white
attracted fame, and the blue, good luck. Defective pearls caused
leprosy, loss of fortune, disgrace, insanity, and death, according to
the degree of defect. The “Mani-málá,” previously quoted, states that
“pearls possessed of every valuable quality shield their master from
every evil, and suffer nothing harmful to come near him. The house which
contains a perfect pearl the ever-restless Lakshmi (goddess of wealth)
chooses to make her dwelling for ever and a day.”[357]

A similar idea is expressed in an old Hindu treatise on gems by
Buddhabhatta, where we read: “The pearl from the shell ought always to
be worn as an amulet by those who desire prosperity.”[358]

Pearls still find a place in the pharmacopœia of India. One of the
latest standard works, that of R. N. Khory and N. N. Katrak,[359]
credits the powder as a stimulant, tonic, and aphrodisiac. It is one of
the ingredients in numerous Indian prescriptions used in curing
impotence, heart-disease, consumption, etc. According to these
authorities, the dose is from one fourth to one half grain of the
powdered pearl.

Owing to the high cost of sea pearls, even those of the smallest size, a
substitute for medicinal and similar purposes is found in the Placuna
pearls of Ceylon, Borneo, etc. These are of such slight luster that only
the choicest are of ornamental value, consequently they are sold at
relatively small prices. A considerable demand exists for them to be
placed in the mouths of deceased Hindus of the middle class, instead of
the sea pearls which are used by the wealthy, or the rice which is
employed in a similar manner by persons of poorer rank. This custom
seems to be analogous to that of the ancient Britons, and also to that
of the American Indians, in depositing food and other requisites for a
journey in burial graves. The practice is an old one in India and was
noted by Marco Polo more than six hundred years ago.

Most of the Placuna pearls are calcined and are used with areca-nuts and
betel-pepper leaves in a very popular masticatory, one of the “seven
sisters of sleep,” which is to the Hindu what opium is to the Chinaman,
or tobacco to the American or European. The hard white areca-nut (_Areca
Catechu_) is about the size and shape of a hen’s egg. Three or four
thousand tons of the small, tender nuts are annually shipped from Ceylon
to India for this masticatory, which is chewed by a hundred million
persons. After boiling in water, pellets of them are placed in a leaf of
the betel-pepper (_Piper betle_) with a small quantity of lime made from
pearls or shells, according to the desired quality and value of product.
It is credited with hardening the gums, sweetening the breath, aiding
digestion, and stimulating the nervous system like coffee or tobacco;
its most visible effect is tingeing the saliva and blackening the teeth,
which is far from attractive, especially in an otherwise beautiful
woman. A more recent use for these Placuna pearls is as an ingredient in
a proprietary face powder and enamel, which is marketed in Europe.

It is not alone the Orientals that have found medicinal virtues in
pearls. Even in Europe they have occupied a prominent place in materia
medica, especially during the Middle Ages when a knowledge of the occult
properties of gems was an important branch of learning. Indeed, they
could scarcely have been overlooked by people who at one time or another
swallowed pretty much everything, from dried snake’s eyes to the filings
of a murderer’s irons, in their quest for the unusual and costly with
which to relieve and comfort themselves. During the Middle Ages in
Europe, writers who gave attention to pearls, as well as to other gems,
treated almost exclusively of their reputed efficacy in magic and in
medicine; and most of the accounts from the ninth to the fourteenth
century seem wholly without scientific value, and at times reach the
climax of extravagance and absurdity in their claims for the wonderful
potency of the gem.

Albertus Magnus, the Dominican scholar born in Germany in the twelfth
century, wrote that pearls were used in mental diseases, in affections
of the heart, in hemorrhages, and dysentery.[360]

The “Lapidario” of Alfonso X of Castile (1221–1284), called “The Wise,”
the father of the Spanish language, states:

The pearl is most excellent in the medicinal art, for it is of great
help in palpitation of the heart, and for those who are sad or
timid, and in every sickness which is caused by melancholia, because
it purifies the blood, clears it and removes all its impurities.
Therefore, the physicians put them in their medicine and lectuaries,
with which they cure these infirmities, and give them to be
swallowed. They also make powders of them, which are applied to the
eyes; because they clear the sight wonderfully, strengthen the
nerves and dry up the moisture which enters the eyes.[361]

Anselmus de Boot, physician to Emperor Rudolph II, and one of the great
authorities at the beginning of the seventeenth century, gave the
following directions for making “_aqua perlata_, which is most excellent
for restoring the strength and almost for resuscitating the dead.
Dissolve the pearls in strong vinegar, or better in lemon juice, or in
spirits of vitriol or sulphur, until they become liquified; fresh juice
is then added and the first decanted. Then, to the milky and turbid
solution, add enough sugar to sweeten it. If there be four ounces of
this solution, add an ounce each of rose-water, of tincture of
strawberries, of borage flowers and of balm and two ounces of cinnamon
water. When you wish to give the medicine, shake the mixture so that the
sediment may be swallowed at the same time. From one ounce to an ounce
and a half may be taken, and nothing more excellent can be had. In
pernicious and pestilential fevers, the ordinary _aqua perlata_ cannot
be compared to this. Care must be taken to cover the glass carefully
while the pearls are dissolving, lest the essence should escape.”[362]

A curious book on the medicinal use of pearls was written in 1637 by
Malachias Geiger,[363] in which he especially praises the efficacy of
Bavarian pearls. It was true that their material value was less than
that of oriental pearls, but this was compensated by their therapeutic
qualities. He had accomplished many cures of a very serious disease and
had used these pearls successfully in cases of epilepsy, insanity, and
melancholia.

Quotations might be given from a hundred medieval writers as to the
therapeutics of pearls. The diseases for which they were recommended, as
noted by Robert Lovell’s “Panmineralogicon, or Summe of all Authors,”
published at Oxford in 1661, seems to have included a large portion of
the entire list known at that period. This summary states:

Pearls strengthen and confirme the heart; they cherish the spirits
and principall parts of the body; being put into collyries, they
cleanse weafts of the eyes, and dry up the water thereof, help their
filth, and strengthen the nerves by which moisture floweth into
them; they are very good against melancholick griefes; they helpe
those that are subject to cardiack passions; they defend against
pestilent diseases, and are mixed with cordiall remedies; they are
good against the lienterie, that is, the flux of the belly,
proceeding from the sliperiness of the intestines, insomuch that
they cannot retaine the meat, but let it passe undigested; they are
good against swounings; they help the trembling of the heart and
giddinesse of the head; they are mixed with the _Manus Christi_
against fainting (called _Manus Christi perlata_ in the London
_Pharmacopaea_); they are put into antidotes or corroborating
powders; they help the flux of bloud; they stop the terms, and
cleanse the teeth; they are put into antidotes for the bowels, and
increase their vertue, make the bloud more thin, and clarify that
which is more thick and feculent; they help feavers. The _oile of
Pearles_ or unions helpeth the resolution of the nerves, convulsion,
decay of old age, phrensie, keepeth the body sound, and recovereth
it when out of order, it rectifieth womens milk, and increaseth it,
corrects the vices of the natural parts and seed. It cureth
absesses, eating ulcers, the cancer and hemorrhoides…. The best
are an excellent cordial, by which the oppressed balsame of life and
decayed strength are recreated and strengthened, therefore they
resist poyson, the plague, and putrefaction, and exhilarate, and
therefore they are used as the last remedie in sick persons.[364]

So powerful and mysterious were their alleged virtues, that in some
instances it was necessary only that the pearls be worn to make
effective their prophylaxis against disease. This belief was by no means
confined to the ignorant and inexperienced, for we are told that even
Pope Adrian was never without his amulet made of the extraordinary
combination of oriental pearls, a dried toad, etc.[365] Leonardo, in the
fifteenth century, wrote that pearls render true and virtuous all who
wear them.[366] Although we wonder at what we call the superstitions of
the Middle Ages, perchance future generations will smile at many of our
mistaken follies.

A prominent historical instance of administering pearls medicinally was
in the treatment of Charles VI of France (1368–1422), to whom pearl
powder mixed with distilled water was given for the cure of insanity.

A far more illustrious patient was Lorenzo de’ Medici, “The Magnificent”
(1448–1492), the celebrated ruler of Florence. When this plebeian prince
lay dying of a fever at Careggi, just after that famous interview with
Savonarola, his friends called in Lazaro da Ticino, a physician of
reputation, who administered pulverized pearls. Politian, who was
present, is credited with the statement that when the medicine was
administered, to the inquiry as to how it tasted, Lorenzo replied: “As
pleasant as anything can be to a dying man.”[367]

Even the English philosopher, Francis Bacon (1561–1626), mentioned
pearls among medicines for the prolongation of life. He adds: “Pearls
are taken, either in a fine powder or in a kind of paste or solution
made by the juice of very sour and fresh lemons. Sometimes they are
given in aromatic confections, sometimes in a fluid form. Pearls no
doubt have some affinity with the shells wherein they grow; perhaps may
have nearly the same qualities as the shells of crawfish.”[368]

Powdered pearl or mother-of-pearl mixed with lemon juice was used as a
wash for the face, and was considered “the best in the world.”[369] The
pearl powder and lemon juice were permitted to stand for a day or two
and the combination was then filtered before using. Another method of
preparing this was:

Dissolve two or three ounces of fine seed-pearl in distilled
vinegar, and when it is perfectly dissolved, pour the vinegar into a
clean basin; then drop some oil of tartar upon it, and it will cast
down the pearl into fine powder; then pour the vinegar clean off
softly; put to the pearl clear conduit or spring water; pour that
off, and do so often until the taste of the vinegar and tartar be
clean gone; then dry the powder of pearl upon warm embers, and keep
it for your use.[370]

Through their composition of carbonate of lime, pearls possibly possess
some slight therapeutic value, which, however, can easily be supplied by
other materials—as the shell, for instance—and is entirely out of
proportion to their market value as ornaments.

Although pearls have lost their therapeutic prestige and no longer have
a recognized place in materia medica, their healing qualities are not to
be denied, for there are few ills to which women are subject that cannot
be bettered or at least endured with greater patience when the sufferer
receives a gift of pearls; the truth of which any doubting Thomas may
easily verify in his own household to the limit of his purse-strings.

Owing to their beauty and great value, pearls have been deemed
particularly appropriate as a sacrifice in enriching a drink for a toast
or tribute. Shakspere alludes to this in the words of King Claudius, the
pearl being frequently designated _union_ in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries:

The king shall drink to Hamlet’s better breath;
And in the cup an union shall he throw,
Richer than that which four successive kings
In Denmark’s crown have worn.[371]

It is stated that a pearl worth £15,000 was reduced to powder and drunk
by Sir Thomas Gresham, the English merchant, in the presence of the
Spanish ambassador, as a tribute to Queen Elizabeth, by whom he had been
knighted.[372]

The most celebrated instance of enriching a drink with a pearl was
doubtless Cleopatra’s tribute to Antony, Pliny’s account of which we
give in the words of old Philemon Holland:

This princesse, when _M. Antonius_ had strained himselfe to doe her
all the pleasure he possibly could, and had feasted her day by day
most sumptuously, and spared for no cost: in the hight of her pride
and wanton braverie (as being a noble courtezan, and a queene
withall) began to debase the expense and provision of Antonie, and
made no reckoning of all his costly fare. When he thereat demanded
againe how it was possible to goe beyond this magnificence of his,
she answered againe, that she would spend upon him at one supper ten
million Sestertij. _Antonie_ laid a great wager with her about it,
and shee bound it againe, and made it good. The morrow after,
_Cleopatra_ made _Antonie_ a supper which was sumptuous and roiall
ynough: howbeit, there was no extraordinarie service seene upon the
board: whereat _Antonius_ laughed her to scorne, and by way of
mockerie required to see a bill with the account of the particulars.
She again said, that whatsoever had been served up alreadie was but
the overplus above the rate and proportion in question, affirming
still that she would yet in that supper make up the full summe that
she was seazed at: yea, herselfe alone would eat above that
reckoning, and her owne supper should cost 60 million Sestertij: and
with that commanded the second service to be brought in. The
servitors set before her one only crewet of sharpe vineger, the
strength whereof is able to resolve pearles. Now she had at her
eares hanging these two most precious pearles, the singular and only
jewels of the world, and even Natures wonder. As _Antonie_ looked
wistly upon her, shee tooke one of them from her eare, steeped it in
the vineger, and so soon as it was liquified, dranke it off. And as
she was about to doe the like by the other, _L. Plancius_ the judge
of that wager, laid fast hold upon it with his hand, and pronounced
withal, that _Antonie_ had lost the wager.[373]

Elsewhere has been set forth the impracticability of dissolving a pearl
in a glass of vinegar without first pulverizing it.[374] It seems
probable that if Pliny’s interesting story has any foundation, Cleopatra
might have swallowed a solid pearl in a glass of wine—certainly a more
pleasing draught as well as a more graphic sacrifice; and we should
accept its reported value with a grain of salt, for it would scarcely
have been safe for the court gossip to belittle the value of this
tribute of love.

Pliny, and other Roman writers, mention another instance, that of
Clodius “the sonne of Aesope the Tragedian Poet,” who took two pearls of
great price “in a braverie, and to know what tast pearles had, mortified
them in venegre, and drunke them up. And finding them to content his
palat wondrous well, because he would not have all the pleasure by
himselfe, and know the goodnesse thereof alone, he gave to every guest
at his table one pearle apeece to drinke in like manner.”[375] The
chronicler fails to tell what the guests thought of the flavor of
pearls, or whether some would not have preferred them for a more
appropriate use.

 


XIII

VALUES AND COMMERCE OF PEARLS

 


XIII
VALUES AND COMMERCE OF PEARLS


A pearl,
Whose price hath launch’d above a thousand ships,
And turn’d crown’d kings to merchants.

_Troilus and Cressida_, Act II, sc. 2.

To trace the markets of the pearl is to trace the routes of commerce
from early times. The first routes from the Far East seem to have been
two: one by the Persian Gulf and the Euphrates to Babylonia and Assyria,
and thence by caravan through Damascus to Tyre and Sidon; the other by
the Red Sea and Suez to Egypt. As regards the former route, Sir George
Birdwood furnishes positive evidence that the Phenicians visited India
as early as 2200 B.C. It seems highly probable that pearls were
introduced by this route at an early period, although it is difficult to
find material proof of the fact.

By means of this commerce, the great ancient civilizations of Phenicia,
Mesapotamia and the Nile valley doubtless became familiar with the gem
treasures of eastern Asia. Then came the opening of the Mediterranean
with first “the great Sidon,” and later Tyre, as the starting-points of
commerce, exploration, and colonial settlement among the islands and on
the shores of what, to the Asiatic peoples, was the great western sea.
However, as the Greek islands and their colonies developed, the
Phenicians were more strictly confined to the coasts of Africa and
Spain. Gades, Tartessus, and Carthage were their great colonies and
trading-ports, and their adventurous sailors passed on through the
Straits of Gibraltar and directed their course northward to the British
Isles, where they very probably obtained the pearls of the Scotch
rivers.

Meanwhile, the campaigns of Alexander had carried Greek influence and
authority over all western Asia, reaching even to India itself, and had
led to a widely increased intercourse. Although he died at the age of
thirty-two, Alexander the Great did more than any single individual in
the world’s history to bring the nations of the Eastern and the Western
worlds into contact with each other, and it is certainly due to this
circumstance that we find much greater evidences of the use of pearls in
the western countries after his time. Besides this, the founding of
Alexandria provided a mart, in whose bazaars the traders of India,
Persia, and Arabia bartered their treasured gems, just as their
descendants do in the same place at the present day.

It was not, however, until the establishment of the Roman empire that
this commercial intercourse reached its highest development. The Romans,
with their marvelous capacity for organization, were the first to build
a great system of permanent and well-kept roads to facilitate land
travel and land traffic. These great roads, starting from the Forum,
reached out in every direction, even to the limits of the empire; and,
as a result of increased commercial activity, more gems were engraved,
mounted, and set during the five hundred years of Rome’s commercial
supremacy than during any other early epoch of the world’s history.

In Rome, the trade in pearls was so important that there was a
corporation of “margaritarii.” The _officinæ margaritariorum_ were
installed in the Forum, in the neighborhood of the _tabernae
argentariæ_; some were also on the Via Sacra.[376] However, the name
_margaritarius_ did not only apply to the jewelers, merchants, and
setters of pearls, but also to those who fished for them and to the
guardians of the gems and jewels wherein pearls were used.

With the fall of the Western empire, the Dark Ages settled down like a
cloud over Europe for five hundred years. Only among the Saracens and at
Byzantium did the culture of the old civilization survive, and
eventually the light of knowledge and of progress was rekindled from
these sources. The Crusades were the chief factors in this new
development; they gave a mighty stimulus, by means of which Europe was
aroused from her lethargy and once more brought into contact with the
Orient. Venice and Genoa now became the great carriers, and from this
time, and to this source, may be traced many of the oriental gems in
Europe. The Venetian fleet of three hundred merchant ships brought the
products of the East and distributed them over Europe, by way of the
German cities of Augsburg and Nuremberg, where the great jewelers and
silversmiths made world-famed ornaments.

When Constantinople fell into the hands of the Turks, the treasures of
the Eastern empire were scattered throughout Europe; but, at the same
time, the establishment of the Turkish empire served to close the way to
India and the far East for the merchants and travelers of Europe, and,
hence, new means of access had to be sought by sea. This, as is well
known, was the cause of the voyages of De Gama and Columbus. The
unexpected result of these voyages—the discovery of a new
continent—ushered in the wonderful period of Spanish and Portuguese
development and their colonization of both the East and the West Indies;
and to this epoch belongs the introduction of American pearls to the
markets of Europe. The gradual decline of the power of Spain and
Portugal—largely owing to bigotry and to the reckless exploitation of
the regions under their control—brings us to the beginning of the
present phase of commercial intercourse in which all the nations of the
civilized world are engaged in varying proportion, according to their
power and aptitude. Never before have the different regions of the earth
been more closely in touch with each other, and we may safely say that
nothing is likely to occur which can permanently interrupt the
progressive development of the world’s commerce.

With the various means of transportation and locomotion that have
existed in the past twenty-three or twenty-four centuries, there is no
doubt that the commerce of pearls has varied more or less, but there has
ever been, in some part of the world, a great potentate, a great
collector or dealer who has influenced the finest gems to gravitate his
way. Never has there been a time when some person was not prepared to
encourage—and to richly encourage—the sale of fine jewels to him. The
history of the commerce of precious stones is a history of travel and
exploration, of hardship, pleasure, reward, and sometimes of serious
disappointment.

The lesson we derive from these decorative objects of natural beauty and
softness—treasured alike by savage, barbarian, ancient warrior,
statesman, king, emperor, peasant, bourgeois, magyar, lady, and
queen—always carries with it the moral that the gifts of creation are
ever prized by some one in every age or place.

The necessary qualifications affecting the value of a pearl are: first,
that it should be perfectly round, pear-shaped, drop-shaped, egg-shaped,
or button-shaped, and as even in form as though it were turned on a
lathe. It must have a perfectly clear skin, and a decided color or tint,
whether white, pink, creamy, gray, brown or black. If white, it must not
have a cloud or a blur or haze, nor should the skin have the slightest
appearance of being opaque or dead. It must be absolutely free from all
cracks, scratches, spots, flaws, indentations, shadowy reflections or
blemishes of any kind. It must possess the peculiar luster or orient
characteristic of the gem. The skin must be unbroken, and not show any
evidence of having been polished.

Diamonds and the more valuable precious stones generally are bought and
sold by the weight called a carat. This carat, whatever its precise
value, is always considered as divisible into four diamond or pearl
grains, but the subdivisions of the carat are usually expressed by the
vulgar fractions, one fourth, one eighth, one twelfth, one sixteenth,
one twenty-fourth, one thirty-second, and one sixty-fourth. The origin
of the carat is to be sought in certain small, hard, leguminous seeds,
which, when dried, remain constant in weight. The brilliant, glossy,
scarlet-and-black seed of _Abrus precatorius_ constitutes the Indian
rati, about three grains; the _Adenanthera pavonina_ seed weighs about
four grains. The seed of the locust-tree, _Ceratonia siliqua_, weighs on
the average three and one sixth grains, and constitutes, no doubt, the
true origin of the carat.

Another[377] of the more notable of these weight-units used for precious
stones and precious metals is the _candarin_, _condorine_, or
_cantarai_, also termed by the Chinese _fun_ or _fan_, and by the south
Indians a _fanam_, and used all over the Indo-Chinese archipelago. This
is by origin a large lentil or pea of a pinkish color dotted with black,
about double the size of the _gonj_, and possessing the same quality of
very slight variability of weight when dried. It is probably a variety
of the same botanic genus or species as the _Abrus precatorius_. The
value when reduced to absolute standard became a subsidiary part or
submultiple of the weight of some local coin, rupee, or pagoda, or a
decimal fraction of some local tchen, as in China and Japan.

The following derivation of the word carat is given by Grimm: “Carat.
Italian: _carato_; French: _carat_; Spanish and Portuguese: _quilate_;
Old Portuguese: _quirate_, from Arabic _qirat_, and this from the Greek,
κεράτιον.”[378]

The carat is not absolutely of the same value in all countries. Its
weight, as used for weighing the diamond, pearl, and other gemstones in
different parts of the world, is given in decimals of a gram, by the
majority of the authorities, as follows:

Grams In Grains Troy
Indian (Madras) .2073533 3.199948
Austrian (Vienna) .20613+ 3.18107+
German (Frankfort) .20577+ 3.175514
Brazil and Portugal .20575+ 3.175206
France .2055+ 3.171347
England .205409 3.169943
Spain .205393 3.169696
Holland .205044 3.16431+

Pearl Grains in Grams In Grains Troy
Indian (Madras) .0518383 .799987
Austrian (Vienna) .05153+ .79526+
German (Frankfort) .05144+ .793878
Brazil and Portugal .05143+ .793801
France .051375 .792836
England .051352 .792485
Spain .051348 .792424
Holland .051261 .791077

Assuming that the gram corresponds to 15.43235 English grains, an
English diamond carat will nearly equal 3.17 grains. It is, however,
spoken of as being equal to four grains, the grains meant being
“diamond” or “pearl” grains, and not ordinary troy or avoirdupois
grains. Thus a diamond or pearl grain is but .7925 of a true grain. In
an English troy ounce of 480 grains there are 151½ carats; and so it
will be seen that a carat is not indeed quite 3.17 grains, but something
like 3.1683168 grains, or less exactly, 3.168 grains. Further, if we
accept the equivalent in grains of one gram to be, as stated above,
15.43235, and if there be 151½ carats in a troy ounce of 480 grains, it
will follow that an English diamond carat is .205304 of a gram,
not .205409, as commonly affirmed. The following exact equivalents, in
metric grams and grains troy, of the diamond carat as used in different
parts of the world in 1882, are given by Mr. Lowis d’A. Jackson:

DIAMOND CARATS

Grams Grains Troy
Turin .2135 3.29480
Persia .2095 3.23307
Venice .2071 3.19603
Austro-Hungary .2061 3.18060
France (old) .2059 3.17752
France (later) .2055 3.17135
France (modern) .2050 3.16363
Portugal .2058 3.17597
Frankfort and Hamburg .2058 3.17597
Germany .2055 3.17135
East Indies .2055 3.17135
England and British India .2053 3.16826
Belgium (Antwerp) .2053 3.16826
Russia .2051 3.16517
Holland .2051 3.16517
Turkey .2005 3.09418
Spain .1999 3.08492
Java and Borneo .1969 3.03862
Florence .1965 3.03245
Arabia .1944 3.00004
Brazil .1922 2.96610
Egypt .1917 2.95838
Bologna .1886 2.91054
International carat .2050 3.16363
Proposed new international carat .2000 3.08647

Recalculating the above figures into pearl grains we have:

PEARL GRAINS

Grams Grains Troy
Turin .053375 .823700
Persia .052375 .808267
Venice .051775 .799007
Austro-Hungary .051525 .795150
France (old) .051475 .794380
France (later) .051375 .792837
France (modern) .051250 .790907
Portugal .051450 .793902
Frankfort and Hamburg .051450 .793992
Germany .051375 .792837
East Indies .051375 .792837
England and British India .051325 .792065
Belgium (Antwerp) .051325 .792065
Russia .051275 .791292
Holland .051275 .791292
Turkey .050125 .773545
Spain .049975 .771230
Java and Borneo .049225 .759655
Florence .049125 .758112
Arabia .048600 .750010
Brazil .048050 .741522
Egypt .047925 .739595
Bologna .047150 .727635
International .051250 .790907
Proposed International .050000 .771617

With the present system of diamond carats and pearl grains it is
necessary to keep two entirely different sets of weights or to resort to
troublesome calculations. The stock-book of a jeweler, at the present
time, will contain the following fractions, expressing the weight of a
single pearl: ½, ¼, ⅛, 1⁄16, 1⁄32, 1⁄64, when the weight could be much
better stated as 63⁄64 of a carat. It requires but a glance to see how
much easier this would be. Certain dealers have therefore proposed the
use of sets of fractions arranged in a similar way. In this manner a
stock-book can be kept much more easily and with greater precision.
Others, again, have adopted a decimal notation of the fractions of a
carat, which is even more simple and feasible, since the common
fractions ½, ¼, ⅛, etc. can be expressed as .5, .25, .125, etc., of a
carat, this being either a carat of .2053 of a gram or the English carat
of .20534 of a gram.

On the other hand, an agreement was arrived at, as the result of a
conference between the diamond merchants of London, Paris, and
Amsterdam, by which the uniform weight of a diamond carat was fixed
at .205 of a gram, making the pearl grain .05125 of a gram. This
standard, which was suggested in 1871, by a syndicate of Parisian
jewelers, goldsmiths, and others dealing in precious stones, was
subsequently (1877) confirmed. But there is still a lack of uniformity
in the standard by which diamonds and pearls are bought and sold, and
very serious discrepancies exist in the sets of carat weights turned out
by different makers, although the international carat is almost
universally used.

At the International Congress of Weights and Measures held at the
World’s Fair at Chicago in 1893, the writer suggested that the carat
should consist of 200 milligrams, so that ½ of a carat would be 100
milligrams and ¼ of a grain would be 12.5 milligrams. This would mean 5
carats or 20 grains to a French gram, and 5000 carats or 20,000 pearl
grains to a French kilogram. This would depreciate the present diamond
carat or pearl grain only about one per cent., and it would do away with
the needless series of carats and grains of the many nationalities. It
could be simply explained to any private individual in any country,
especially as there are only two countries which do not use the metric
system.

This carat has been earnestly indorsed, its introduction advocated, and
its merits clearly shown, by M. Guilliame, of the French Bureau des Arts
et Metiers, whose energetic work has found a reasonable cooperation, in
this country as well as in Europe, in introducing what will be a
scientific, logical, comprehensive, and possibly the final and
international carat; and any ancient, obsolete, or foreign carat can be
readily reduced to this carat once the metric value of the former is
computed.

The Association of Diamond Merchants of Amsterdam has already, to avoid
confusion, fixed the value of the carat (17th October, 1890) at 1
kilogram = 4875 carats, or 1 carat = 3.16561 grains troy = 205.128 mg.
One pearl grain = .7914 grains troy = 51.282 mg.; but the association
has decided that, in case of litigation, these values shall be
determined by appointed bureaus, which would express them in grams and
milligrams, a most important and valuable decision, as the gram and the
milligram will always be known as weights of constant value.

In view of the difficulty of inducing the abolition of the carat in
different countries, the German Federation of Jewelers decided to
petition the imperial government for authority to use the carat, in
order that it might be legally recognized. Such a proposition not being
in accord with the German laws in force on the subject of the metric
system, it was proposed to substitute for the carats then in use one
carat only, weighing two hundred milligrams. This proposal was very
favorably received in trade circles and may be taken into consideration
by the International Committee of Weights and Measures. The Commission
des Instruments et Travaux, to which this proposition was referred,
recommended its adoption to the committee in the following terms:

“The Commission recognizes that it would be very desirable that the unit
of weight of precious stones (the carat) which varies in different
countries, should be made uniform, and should be reduced to the nearest
metric equivalent. The weight of 200 mg., which is very close to the
carat most in use (205.5 mg.), would seem to be the best for this
purpose. The Commission believes that there can be no objection to this
standard of 200 mg. being called ‘the metric carat’ in order to
facilitate the abolition of the old carat.”

This proposition, adopted at the meeting of the International Committee
on the 13th of April, was communicated to the more important
associations. The Chambre Syndicale de la Bijouterie, Joaillerie et
Orfèvrerie de Paris, and the Chambre Syndicale des Négotiants en
Diamants, Perles, Pierres Précieuses et des Lapidaires de Paris assured
the committee of their support of this measure.

The following is the text of the resolution which was passed by both the
above associations in January, 1906:

“The Council, recognizing the advantages which would result to the
international trade in precious stones from the use of a unit based on
the metric system, desires that the metric carat of 200 mg. be
universally adopted.”

The German Federation of Jewelers passed the following resolution in
August, 1906:

“The German Federation considers that it is both necessary and
advantageous to replace the old carat by the metric carat of 200 mg.; it
authorizes its president to approach the imperial government and the
International Bureau of Weights and Measures, and the foreign
associations in order that the metric carat may be introduced as soon as
possible in all countries.”

The Chamber of Commerce of Antwerp promised, in a letter dated the 7th
of December, 1906, to rescind a decision of 29th of April, 1895,
approving the adoption of a carat of 205.3 mg., when the metric carat of
200 mg. should come into universal use in the markets.

The Association of Jewelers and Goldsmiths of Prague formally authorized
the German Federation to act in its name, in order that the reform
should come about as soon as possible by international agreement, and
the Association of Goldsmiths of Copenhagen has declared its willingness
to support the reform. The Committee of Weights and Measures in Belgium
prepared a law for the adoption of the metric carat in December, 1906.

Mr. Larking, president of the Chamber of Commerce of Melbourne,
Australia, has transmitted by letter of September 16, 1907, the
following resolution of the Association of Manufacturing Jewelers of the
Colony of Victoria:

“It is desirable that the carat weight should be the same in all
countries, and our association approves a metric carat of 200
milligrams.”

On October 16, 1907, the Association of Societies for the Protection of
Commerce in the United Kingdom passed the following resolution:

“The Committee of the Association approves the attempt to urge the
adoption in all countries of an international carat of 200 milligrams,
and hopes that, in the interest of the unification of weights, it will
prove successful.”

The fourth General Conference of Weights and Measures, held in Paris in
October, 1907, passed this resolution:

“The Conference approves the proposition of the International Committee
and declares that it sees no infringement of the integrity of the metric
system in the adoption of the appellation ‘metric carat’ to designate a
weight of 200 milligrams for the commerce in diamonds, pearls, and
precious stones.”[379]

The following resolution was passed by The Birmingham Jewelers’ and
Silversmiths’ Association, January 23, 1908: “That the best thanks of
this Committee be conveyed to the Decimal Association for the good work
they are doing, and this Committee expresses the hope that all countries
will adopt an International Carat of 200 milligrams in weight.” Finally,
on March 11, 1908, the metric carat of 200 milligrams was adopted in
Spain as the official carat for diamonds, pearls, and precious stones.

Pearls have become of so much importance to so many dealers that a
special form of weight has been proposed for them. This would have a
diamond form and not a square form, and it would be stamped “Grain”
instead of “Carat.” Another set would be stamped in milligrams, the
regular milligram weight with the pearl fraction above it, and they
could even be made round so as better to designate the pearl.

The great value of pearls has suggested the making of a gage, called the
Kunz gage, by means of which round pearls can be very accurately
measured. Pearls of a given weight and perfectly spherical form have
been weighed and then measured by this gage, and the theoretical
diameters as computed from the measurement of a single pearl are in the
majority of instances in exact accord with these actual measurements,
the occasional variations in the smaller pearls barely exceeding the
thousandth part of an inch. These discrepancies may be due to
imperceptible divergencies in sphericity or, possibly, to trifling
differences in specific gravity.

The following table gives the diameters of round pearls by measurement,
from 1⁄16 to 500 grains, in millimeters and inches:

Weight Grains Diameter Millimeters Inches
1⁄16 1.3 .0512
⅛ 1.66 .0653
¼ 2.09 .0823
½ 2.65 .1043
¾ 2.99 .1187
1 3.32 .1307
1¼ 3.60 .1417
1½ 3.80 .1496
1¾ 3.98 .1567
2 4.18 .1645
2¼ 4.32 .1701
2½ 4.47 .1759
2¾ 4.63 .1823
3 4.80 .1889
3¼ 4.88 .1921
3½ 5.01 .1972
3¾ 5.17 .2035
4 5.23 .2058
4¼ 5.44 .2141
5 5.65 .2224
5½ 5.86 .2283
6 6.03 .2374
6½ 6.20 .2442
7 6.36 .2504
8 6.64 .2614
9 6.90 .2716
10 7.15 .2815
11 7.38 .2905
12 7.60 .2992
13 7.81 .3074
14 8.00 .3149
15 8.18 .3220
16 8.36 .3291
17 8.53 .3358
18 8.70 .3425
19 8.86 .3488
20 9.01 .3547
25 9.71 .3823
30 10.31 .4059
35 10.86 .4275
40 11.35 .4468
45 11.82 .4653
50 12.23 .4815
60 13.00 .5118
70 13.38 .5386
80 14.30 .5630
90 14.89 .5862
100 15.42 .6071
125 16.60 .6535
150 17.63 .6941
200 19.41 .7641
300 22.22 .8748
400 24.46 .9630
500 26.35 1.0374

The new and finer analytical balances weigh to the tenth part of a
milligram, the two thousandth part of a carat, the five hundredth part
of a grain; but this is not necessary. If the 200–milligram carat were
used, the two hundredth part of a carat could readily be ascertained,
and then a short-beam, rapid-weighing balance would answer every purpose
and save much time for the dealer who must make many weighings in the
course of a day. In an office where thousands of weighings were made in
a month, the task was accomplished with such minute accuracy that the
margin of error did not exceed one carat during that time.

The _mina_, the sixtieth part of the lesser Alexandrian talent of
silver, was divided by the Romans, when they occupied Egypt, into twelve
ounces (_unciae_), and, weighing as it did 5460 grains, it became the
predecessor of the European pounds of which the troy pound is a type. If
we may believe a Syrian authority, Anania of Shiraz, who wrote in the
sixth century, the carat or diamond weight was originally formed from
one of these ounces by taking the 1⁄144 part.[380]

We find in Murray[381] that the Greek κεράτιον was originally identical
with the Latin siliqua, and was called the _siliqua Graeca_. As a
measure of weight and fineness the carat represents the Roman siliqua as
1⁄24 of the golden solidus of Constantine, which was ⅙ of an ounce,
hence the various values into which 1⁄24 and 1⁄144 enter, or originally
entered. As a measure of weight for diamonds and precious stones, it was
originally 1⁄144 of an ounce or 3⅓ grains. It is stated in Hakluyt (Voy.
II, pp. 1, 225, 1598): “Those pearls are praised according to the
caracts which they weigh; every caract is four graines.”

There have been at all times men who possessed a delicate touch or a
fine sense of feeling, but probably few men are living to-day who would
be able to accomplish the feat attributed to Julius Cæsar, namely, that
of estimating the weight of a pearl by simply holding it in his hand.
There are very few who can tell the weight of a pearl in this way, and
while the story may be historically interesting, it is rather dubious.

To attempt to formulate a list of prices, comparative or otherwise, of
pearls, is almost an impossibility, as probably no two authors of the
past three centuries have ever seen the same lot of pearls, nor have
their estimates always been the same as to quality, rarity and value.

As interesting statistics from an historical point of view, there will
be presented here a list of the values of pearls dating back some ten
centuries. That there always has existed a higher valuation for the
larger pearls, which are the rarest, will readily be apparent, but that
the correct value of a pearl of one, ten, twenty or fifty grains be
definitely given for the years 1602, 1702, 1802, or 1902 is an
impossibility. However, we believe this to be the first attempt to
present so large a body of carefully selected quotations, and they are
given to the reader, whether he be layman or professional, for what they
are worth.

In regard to the smaller pearls, as is the case with the smaller
diamonds, prices have been dependent upon the changes of fashion; that
is, whether the prevailing style of jewelry was such that the smaller
pearl or diamond was in demand. In other words, if they were used as a
decoration forming a border, a flower, a scroll ornament, or a pave
requiring many small gems, the demand naturally increased and the prices
were higher or lower as the occasion required.

It is not the project of this book to fix the prices of pearls at the
present time, for any such attempt would prove misleading, owing to the
fact that pearls vary in the estimation of the different dealers, and a
figure given here for the highest standard, if applied to an inferior
grade, would necessarily mislead the buyer to his positive injury. This
much, however, can be said: during the year 1907 pearls from five grains
upward have been sold according to their quality, at a base of five,
eight, ten, fifteen, or even twenty dollars in very exceptional cases;
that is to say, twenty, thirty-two, forty, sixty, or eighty shillings,
or twenty-five, forty, fifty, seventy-five or one hundred francs.
Nevertheless, it would be impossible, without considerable experience,
for a layman to apply these valuations to objects that require much
practice in determining their quality and perfection.

With diamonds, rubies, and emeralds there may be a stated price per
carat for stones of a certain size, but a gem of unusual perfection or
brilliancy, or of exceptionally fine color, will often command a price
far beyond that generally quoted. It is the same with the pearl. Sums
which may seem exorbitant in comparison with those that are paid for
ordinary pearls, are often given for specimens remarkable for their
beauty, size, or luster.

Pearls of one hundred grains are even more rare at the present time than
are diamonds of one hundred carats. Until the middle of the nineteenth
century, the diamonds of the world weighing one hundred carats or over
could be counted on the fingers, but since the opening of the African
mines in 1870, the number of large diamonds has increased at a much
greater ratio than have the pearls of one quarter of their weight. It
would thus seem that pearls of great size are worth four times as much
as diamonds of equal weight. For instance, a 100–carat diamond of the
finest quality would be worth at least from $1000 to $1500 a carat,
making a total value of $100,000 to $150,000; and a pearl of 100 grains
at a base of $10 would be worth $100,000. But no such high price has
ever been paid.

The usual method of estimating the value of pearls is by establishing a
base value for those weighing one grain and then multiplying this amount
by the square of the number of grains that the pearl weighs. For
instance, if the base value of a one-grain pearl should be fixed at $1,
a pearl weighing two grains would be worth $4 (2 × 2 = 4), or $2 per
grain; one weighing five grains would be worth $25, or $5 per grain,
etc. Naturally, these values increase in proportion to the increase in
the value of the base. A base of $3 would give a value of $75 for a
five-grain pearl, or $15 per grain, while a $10 base would make the
value $50 per grain, or $250.

This method of estimating pearls by squaring their weights has been
credited by many authors to David Jeffries, who published an interesting
treatise on diamonds and pearls in 1750–1753. It has also been credited
to Tavernier, the oriental traveler of the middle of the seventeenth
century. We have, however, traced this method back to Anselmus de Boot,
in his treatise on precious stones, dated 1609. Before this date we have
not been able to find any mention of the computation of the value of
diamonds and pearls by squaring their weight and multiplying the product
by a base of a franc, guilder, crown, dollar, or of many dollars, as
would be necessary at present. It is probable, however, that this system
is of oriental origin and it may have come to Europe through some of the
oriental traders, with the precious stones, as did the use of the carat.

De Boot makes the carat (four grains) his unit of comparison, increasing
his base value by one third for pearls weighing eleven carats
(forty-four grains) or over. In Pio Naldi’s treatise, published in
Bologna in 1791, the unit is the grain, the base being the fourth part
of the value of four pearls weighing together one carat. Naldi, also,
increases his base value making it 1½ lire ($.30) for pearls weighing
less than ten grains, and 2½ lire ($.50) for those weighing twenty
grains and upward.

A curious method of valuing pearls by their weight is shown in a
treatise by Buteo, published in 1554.[382] The writer states that a
pearl weighing two carats was valued at 5 gold crowns; one of four
carats at 25 crowns; and so on, the price increasing fivefold when the
weight was doubled. The intermediate figures were obtained by computing
the proportional mean of any two known weights and values. For example:
8 × 4 = 32, the square root of which is 5.656. Now, the value of a
four-carat pearl is 25 and that of an eight-carat pearl 125 crowns, and
125 × 25 = 3125, the square root being 55.9; hence a pearl weighing
5.656 carats was worth 55.9 crowns.

The base value of a necklace can be determined in the following way.
Should the center pearl weigh 25 grains, multiply 25 by 25; the result
is 625; then, take the next two, three, or four pearls, as many as are
of approximately the same weight, add their weights together, multiply
the resulting figure by itself and divide the product by the number of
pearls in the group. Proceed in exactly the same way with the remainder
of the necklace, always grouping the pearls so that there shall not be a
considerable difference in weight between the smallest and the largest
pearl, and then add together the figures obtained for the center pearl
and for the various groups and divide the price of the necklace by this
total; the quotient will represent the multiple or base.

As may be seen by comparison of the first with the second and third of
the accompanying tables, the result arrived at in this way will, if
there is any difference in the weight of the pearls in the various
groups, vary slightly from that obtained by calculating the weight of
each pearl separately, but it represents a satisfactory approximation.

NECKLACE OF 41 GRADUATED PEARLS ON A $10 BASE

1 pearl, weighing 25 grs. 25 × 25 = 625.000
2 pearls, each of 22 grs. 44 × 44 = 1936 ÷ 2 = 968.000
2 pearls, each of 20 grs. 40 × 40 = 1600 ÷ 2 = 800.000
2 pearls, each of 19 grs. 38 × 38 = 1444 ÷ 2 = 722.000
2 pearls, each of 18 grs. 36 × 36 = 1296 ÷ 2 = 648.000
2 pearls, each of 17½ grs. 35 × 35 = 1225 ÷ 2 = 612.500
2 pearls, each of 17 grs. 34 × 34 = 1156 ÷ 2 = 578.000
2 pearls, each of 16½ grs. 33 × 33 = 1089 ÷ 2 = 544.500
2 pearls, each of 16 grs. 32 × 32 = 1024 ÷ 2 = 512.000
2 pearls, each of 15½ grs. 31 × 31 = 961 ÷ 2 = 480.500
2 pearls, each of 15 grs. 30 × 30 = 900 ÷ 2 = 450.000
2 pearls, each of 14½ grs. 29 × 29 = 841 ÷ 2 = 420.500
2 pearls, each of 14 grs. 28 × 28 = 784 ÷ 2 = 392.000
2 pearls, each of 13½ grs. 27 × 27 = 729 ÷ 2 = 364.500
2 pearls, each of 13 grs. 26 × 26 = 676 ÷ 2 = 338.000
2 pearls, each of 12½ grs. 25 × 25 = 625 ÷ 2 = 312.500
2 pearls, each of 12 grs. 24 × 24 = 576 ÷ 2 = 288.000
2 pearls, each of 11½ grs. 23 × 23 = 529 ÷ 2 = 264.500
2 pearls, each of 11 grs. 22 × 22 = 484 ÷ 2 = 242.000
2 pearls, each of 10¾ grs. 21½ × 21½ = 462¼ ÷ 2 = 231.125
2 pearls, each of 10¼ grs. 20½ × 20½ = 420¼ ÷ 2 = 210.125
—— ——— ——————————
41 624 10,003.750
$10 × 10,003.75 = $100,037.50

THE SAME NECKLACE FIGURED IN GROUPS

1 pearl, weighing 25 grs. 25 × 25 = 625.00
2 pearls, total weight 44 grs. 44 × 44 = 1936 ÷ 2 = 968.00
4 pearls, total weight 78 grs. 78 × 78 = 6084 ÷ 4 = 1521.00
4 pearls, total weight 71 grs. 71 × 71 = 5041 ÷ 4 = 1260.25
6 pearls, total weight 99 grs. 99 × 99 = 9801 ÷ 6 = 1633.50
6 pearls, total weight 90 grs. 90 × 90 = 8100 ÷ 6 = 1350.00
6 pearls, total weight 81 grs. 81 × 81 = 6561 ÷ 6 = 1093.50
6 pearls, total weight 72 grs. 72 × 72 = 5184 ÷ 6 = 864.00
6 pearls, total weight 64 grs. 64 × 64 = 4096 ÷ 6 = 682.67
——— ———————
624 9997.92
$10 × 9997.92 = $99,979.20

 

On a $5 base this necklace would be worth $50,018.75 according to the
first reckoning, and $49,989.60 according to the second; on a base of
$2.50 the figures would be $25,009.37 and $24,994.80 respectively.

THE SAME NECKLACE FIGURED IN OTHER GROUPS

1 pearl, weighing 25 grs. 25 × 25 = 625.00
4 pearls, total weight 84 grs. 84 × 84 = 7056 ÷ 4 = 1764.00
6 pearls, total weight 109 grs. 109 × 109 = 11881 ÷ 6 = 1980.16
6 pearls, total weight 99 grs. 99 × 99 = 9801 ÷ 6 = 1633.50
6 pearls, total weight 90 grs. 90 × 90 = 8100 ÷ 6 = 1350.00
8 pearls, total weight 106 grs. 106 × 106 = 11236 ÷ 8 = 1404.50
10 pearls, total weight 111 grs. 111 × 111 = 12321 ÷ 10 = 1232.10
——— ———————
624 9989.26

$10 × 9989.26 = $99,892.60

On a $5 base this would represent a value of $49,946.30 and one of
$24,973.15 on a base of $2.50. The different grouping of the pearls
accounts for the slight reduction in value.

A system of estimating the value of pearls which has recently been
introduced into Germany, is an adaptation of the ordinary method of
squaring the number of grains and then multiplying the result by a
certain base figure. The pearls are first grouped according to quality
and size, and a figure is agreed upon as the multiplicator of each
class. In Germany the carat is employed as the weight unit for pearls as
well as for diamonds, and in this new system the total weight of a given
number of pearls of the same class is first reduced to grains; the
number of grains is then multiplied by four and the quotient is
multiplied by the figure agreed upon. The resulting sum, after being
divided by the number of pearls, gives the carat value of such pearls.
For example, if the base figure agreed upon is 5, and we wish to find
the carat worth of 4 pearls of similar size, weighing together 3–14⁄64
carats, the sum would be as follows:

206 × 4 × 4 × 5
——————————————— = 64.37
64 × 4

At this rate per carat, reckoning in marks, the value of the 3–14⁄64
carats would be 207.20 marks. This result is identical with that
obtained by the ordinary method, but the calculation is perhaps a trifle
simplified.[383]

A curious Hindu treatise on gems has been preserved for us in the
Brhatsamhitâ of Varâhamihira (505–587 A.D.). It is the earliest work of
this kind that we have in Sanskrit, and M. Louis Finot,[384] who has
published it, together with several other similar treatises, believes
that it was based upon an original composed at a much earlier period. In
his introduction M. Finot says: “It would be an error to regard the
ratnaçastra [treatise on gems] as a simple manual for the use of
jewelers. Without doubt this subject formed one of the principal
branches of commercial instruction, … but it was also taught to
princes and it is for their use that the ratnaçastras we publish seem to
have been composed.”

This treatise only describes four gems, although a larger number are
enumerated. These gems are the diamond, the pearl, the ruby, and the
emerald. One of the most interesting portions is that treating of the
valuation of pearls. The system described is peculiar, and,
unfortunately, there is some difficulty in finding an absolutely correct
equivalent for the values expressed.

A price is first placed upon a pearl weighing 4 mâsakas (about 45
grains). This is estimated at 5300 kârsâpanas (about $1600). As the
weight diminishes the valuation decreases as follows:

4 mâsakas 5300 kârsâpanas
3½ mâsakas 3200 kârsâpanas
3 mâsakas 2000 kârsâpanas
2½ mâsakas 1300 kârsâpanas
2 mâsakas 800 kârsâpanas
1½ mâsakas 353 kârsâpanas
1 mâsakas 135 kârsâpanas
4 guñjas[385] 90 kârsâpanas
3 guñjas 50 kârsâpanas
2½ guñjas 35 kârsâpanas

Smaller pearls were grouped together in dharanas (one dharana = about 72
grains). If there were thirteen fine pearls in a dharana, they were
valued at 325 rûpakas (about $100); the other values were as follows:

16 pearls in a dharana were worth 200 rûpakas
20 pearls in a dharana were worth 170 rûpakas
25 pearls in a dharana were worth 130 rûpakas
30 pearls in a dharana were worth 70 rûpakas
40 pearls in a dharana were worth 50 rûpakas
55–60 pearls in a dharana were worth 40 rûpakas
80 pearls in a dharana were worth 30 rûpakas
100 pearls in a dharana were worth 25 rûpakas
200 pearls in a dharana were worth 12 rûpakas
300 pearls in a dharana were worth 6 rûpakas
400 pearls in a dharana were worth 5 rûpakas
500 pearls in a dharana were worth 3 rûpakas

It would be extremely interesting if we could find at this early date
(sixth century A.D.) an indication of the use of the system of computing
the value of pearls by the square of their weight as expressed in some
weight unit, and it is singular that the three valuations given for the
weight in guñjas are graduated in accordance with this system. A pearl
weighing 2½ guñjas and valued at 35 kârṣapâṇas would have a base value
of 5.6 kârṣâpaṇas. Estimated at this ratio we would have the following
figures:

3 guñjas 50.4 kârṣâpaṇas
4 guñjas 89.6 kârṣâpaṇas

Now, the values actually given are 50 and 90 kârṣâpaṇas, respectively,
and these figures are easily obtained by rejecting the fraction that is
less than one half and counting the fraction that is in excess of one
half as a unit. After this, however, the progression becomes irregular.
A pearl weighing 1 mâṣaka (5 guñjas) is valued at 135 kârṣâpaṇas, while
the equivalent according to the system would be 140. However, it is
possible that the writer may have changed this figure intentionally so
as to add exactly one half to the preceding valuation (90 + 45 = 135).
The succeeding values bear no relation to the system and appear to be
entirely arbitrary. Still, it can scarcely be due to hazard that the
first three figures are practically in exact accord with the system and
the fourth in close approximation. As the change seems to come when the
weight is expressed in mâṣakas instead of guñjas, we are tempted to
think that the system may have been used for single pearls weighing less
than twelve grains (1 mâṣaka = 11¼ grains), while the value of those
over that weight was estimated in a different way.

In a much later Hindu treatise, by Buddhabhatta, after certain values
have been given for pearls of the best quality, a pearl of this class is
described as follows:

White, round, heavy, smooth, luminous, spotless, the pearl gifted
with these qualities is called qualified (_guṇavat_). If it be
yellow, it is worth half this price; if it be not round, a third; if
flat or triangular, a sixth.[386]

One of the earliest records we have of a system of prices for pearls is
the treatise on precious stones written in the year 1265, by Ahmed ibn
Yusuf al Teifashi, who was probably a native jeweler of Egypt. In his
time pearls were sold in Bagdad in bunches of ten strings, each string
comprising thirty-six pearls. If one of these strings weighed one sixth
of a miskal (four carats or sixteen grains), the ten strings were valued
at four dinars (about ten dollars). The values increased progressively
as follows:[387]

Average weight 10 strings of 36 pearls, Value
of each pearl weight of each string

Grains Carats Grains Dinars U. S. money

½ 4 16 4 $10.00

⅔ 6 24 5 12.50

1⅓ 12 48 6 15.00

2 18 72 10 25.00

3⅓ 30 120 15 37.50

4 36 144 20 50.00

4⅓ 42 168 25 62.50

5⅓ 48 192 35 87.50

6 54 216 40 100.00

7⅓ 66 264 70 175.00

8 72 288 80 200.00

9⅓ 84 336 110 275.00

10 90 360 150 375.00

10⅔ 96 384 200 500.00

12 108 432 400 1000.00

12⅔ 114 456 550 1375.00

13⅓ 120 480 650 1625.00

14 126 504 750 1875.00

14⅔ 132 528 800 2000.00

16 144 576 1000 2500.00

18⅔ 168 672 1500 3750.00

Al Teifashi then proceeds to describe a pearl of the first quality; it
must be “perfectly round in all its parts, colorless and gifted with a
fine water. When a pearl possesses these requisites and weighs one
miskal [24 carats or 96 grains] it is worth 300 dinars [$750]. If,
however, a match is found for this pearl and each one weighs one miskal
and has the same form, the two pearls together cost 700 dinars [$1750].”
This writer also mentions that in the shops of the Arab jewelers, the
pearl which exceeded the weight of a drachma (12 carats or 48 grains)
even by one grain, was called _dorra_, while the name _johar_ was used
for that which did not reach the above weight.

In 1838, Feuchtwanger gave the price of a one-carat pearl as five
dollars, and used this amount as the multiplier of the square of the
weight; therefore, a four-carat pearl would cost four times four
multiplied by five dollars, the value of the first carat; that is to
say, a sixteen-grain (four-carat) pearl would have been worth eighty
dollars in 1838, according to this computation.

In 1858, Barbot[388] gave the value of pearls under ordinary conditions,
but very indefinitely, as follows:

Grains Carats Francs per carat U. S. currency

1 ¼ 4 $0.80
2 ½ 10 2.00
3 ¾ 25 5.00
4 1 50 10.00

Above four grains they sold by the piece, and below, by the ounce.
Baroque pearls sold for 300 to 1000 francs per ounce. Seed-pearls, if
quite round, were worth about 120 francs per ounce.

Emanuel[389] gave the following table of prices for the pearl, reduced
to United States currency:

Grains 1865 1867

3 $2.88— $3.84 $4.32— $4.80
4 5.28— 6.72 6.72— 8.40
5 8.40— 10.80 9.60— 12.00
6 13.20— 15.60 16.80— 19.20
8 21.60— 26.40 24.00— 28.80
10 38.40— 43.20 48.00— 52.80
12 57.60— 72.00 67.20— 76.80
14 72.00— 86.40 86.40— 96.00
16 96.00—144.00 96.00—144.00
18 144.00—192.00 144.00—192.00
20 192.00—240.00 192.00—240.00
24 288.00—345.60 288.00—345.60
30 384.00—480.00 384.00—480.00

The following values appear in the “Encyclopedia Hispano-Americana,”
Barcelona, 1894, Vol. XV, p. 180 (Louis Dieulafait):

Grains Value, 1865 Value, 1867
Pesetas U. S. currency Pesetas U. S. currency

3 17— 18 $3.40— $3.60 21— 23 $4.20— $4.60
4 25— 32 5.00— 6.40 32— 40 6.40— 8.00
5 41— 52 8.20— 10.40 46— 58 9.20— 11.60
6 64— 75 12.80— 15.00 81— 93 16.20— 18.60
8 104— 128 20.80— 25.60 116— 139 23.20— 27.80
10 202— 227 40.40— 45.40 252— 277 50.40— 55.40
12 302— 378 60.40— 75.60 352— 403 70.40— 80.60
14 378— 453 75.60— 90.60 455— 504 91.00—100.80
16 504— 756 100.80—151.20 504— 756 100.80—151.20
18 756—1005 151.20—201.00 756—1005 151.20—201.00
20 1005—1260 201.00—252.00 1005—1260 201.00—252.00
24 1512—1815 302.40—363.00 1512—1815 302.40—363.00
30 2117—2521 423.40—504.20 2117—2521 423.40—504.20

COMPARATIVE STATEMENT SHOWING THE VALUES OF PEARLS AT STATED TIMES

Weight 1609[390] 1672[391] 1675[392] 1751[393] 1774[394] 1791[395]
Grains Thal. Kreutz. Livres £ s £ s £ s Lire

1 0 13 0 ½ 0 1 0 ⅓ 1½
2 0 52 2 0 2 0 4 0 2 6
3 1 47 5 0 6 0 9 0 7½ 13½
4 3 0 10 0 12 0 16 0 18 24
5 4 48 18 1 5 1 5 1 10 37½
6 6 52 28 2 10 1 16 2 5 54
7 9 13 38 4 10 2 9 3 1 73½
8 12 0 55 6 0 3 4 4 10 96
9 15 23 75 8 0 4 1 6 0 121½
10 18 52 100 10 0 5 0 8 5 150
11 22 48 130 12 0 6 1 9 15 242
12 27 175 14 0 7 4 288
13 31 48 16 0 8 9 13 15 338
14 36 52 270 18 0 9 16 392
15 42 13 21 10 11 5 21 0 450
16 48 380 25 0 12 16 512
17 54 13 30 0 14 9 27 10 578
18 60 52 500 35 0 16 4 648
19 67 48 37 10 18 1 722
20 75 650 40 0 20 0 37 10 800
22 90 52 50 0 24 4 52 10 1210
24 108 60 0 28 16 82 10 1440
26 126 52 33 16 99 0 1690
28 147 39 14 150 0 1960
32 192 51 4 225 0 2560
36 243 64 16 262 10 3240
40 300 80 0 300 0 4000
45 506 17 101 5 5062½
50 625 125 0 6250
60 900 180 0 9000
70 1225 245 0 12250
80 1600 320 0 16000
90 2025 405 0 20250
100 2500 500 0 25000

COMPARATIVE STATEMENT SHOWING THE VALUES OF PEARLS AT
STATED TIMES, REDUCED TO UNITED STATES CURRENCY

Weight Grains 1609 1672 1675 1751 1774 1791

1 $0.20 $0.12 $0.24 $0.09 $0.30
2 0.81 $0.80 0.48 0.96 0.50 1.20
3 1.82 1.90 1.44 2.16 1.87 2.70
4 3.24 3.80 2.88 3.84 4.50 4.80
5 5.06 6.84 6.00 6.00 7.50 7.50
6 7.28 10.64 12.00 8.64 11.25 10.80
7 10.92 14.44 21.60 11.76 15.25 14.70
8 12.96 20.90 28.80 15.36 22.50 19.20
9 16.40 28.50 38.40 19.44 30.00 24.30
10 20.25 38.00 48.00 24.00 41.25 30.00
11 24.50 49.40 57.60 29.04 48.75 48.40
12 29.16 66.50 67.20 34.56 57.60
13 34.22 76.80 40.56 68.75 67.60
14 39.69 102.60 86.40 47.04 78.40
15 45.56 103.20 54.00 105.00 90.00
16 51.84 144.40 120.00 61.44 102.40
17 58.52 144.00 60.36 137.50 115.60
18 65.61 190.00 168.00 77.76 129.60
19 73.10 180.00 86.64 144.40
20 81.00 247.00 192.00 96.00 187.50 160.00
22 98.01 240.00 116.16 262.50 242.00
24 116.64 288.00 138.24 412.50 288.00
26 136.89 162.24 495.00 338.00
28 158.76 188.16 750.00 392.00
32 207.36 245.76 1125.00 512.00
36 262.44 311.04 1312.50 648.00
40 324.00 384.00 1500.00 800.00
45 546.75 486.00 1012.50
50 675.00 600.00 1250.00
60 972.00 864.00 1800.00
70 1323.00 1176.00 2450.00
80 1728.00 1536.00 3200.00
90 2187.00 1944.00 4050.00
100 2700.00 2400.00 5000.00

Giving the pearl values in 1867, Emanuel[396] says: “It would be almost
useless to give any value for drop pearls, as when of large size and
fine quality they are of so rare occurrence as to command fancy prices;
still, as a slight guide, it may be mentioned that perfect white drop
pearls, of 80 to 100 grains, may be estimated at from £7 to £11
[$35–$55] per grain; those of 50 to 80 grains at from £4 to £7 [$20–$35]
per grain, and those of 30 to 50 grains at from £3–£5 [$15–$25] per
grain; smaller sizes bring from 20s. to 60s. [$5–$15] per grain.”

Emanuel also states that misshapen pieces called “baroque pearls”
(_perles baroques_), are sold by the ounce, the price varying from £10
to £200 ($50–$1000) per ounce, depending on quality, color, and size.

PRICES IN NEW YORK CITY IN 1878

Grains Value per grain Total value

1 $1.00 $1.00
2 1.83 3.66
3 2.75 8.25
4 3.60 14.40
5 4.03 20.15
6 4.69 28.14
7 6.32 44.24
8 6.87 54.96
9 7.42 66.78
10 8.25 82.50
11 9.62 105.82
12 10.45 125.40
13 11.68 151.84
14 12.55 175.70
15 14.20 213.00
20 19.70 394.00
24 24.75 594.00

HALF-PEARLS
I QUALITY. PER HUNDRED

Diameter
Size No. Millimeters Inches 1873 1876 1878 1885 1908
4 $1.10 $0.85 $0.50 $1.55
5 1.20 .047 1.35 $0.70 1.00 .60 1.95
6 1.22 .048 1.80 .90 1.35 .70 2.90
7 1.24 .049 2.25 1.10 1.70 1.12 3.88
8 1.26 .049 2.70 1.35 2.00 1.80 5.27
9 1.28 .050 3.35 1.80 2.50 2.00 6.65
10 1.80 .071 4.50 2.25 3.40 3.00 9.15
11 1.83 .072 5.60 2.70 4.20 4.00 11.36
12 1.86 .073 8.00 3.35 5.90 5.00 13.86
13 1.90 .075 9.00 4.50 6.75 5.75 15.51
14 2.00 .078 11.00 5.60 8.40 6.75 17.50
15 2.10 .082 14.00 8.00 10.00 8.25 20.80
16 2.25 .088 17.00 9.00 12.50 10.50 25.00
17 2.40 .094 19.00 11.00 14.00 12.00 30.50
18 2.60 .102 23.00 14.00 17.00 14.50 37.40
19 2.75 .108 28.00 17.00 21.00 16.25 48.50
20 2.90 .114 33.00 19.00 24.00 18.25 61.00
22 3.05 .120 42.00 28.00 31.00 33.00
24 3.15 .124 53.00 38.00 39.00 48.00
26 3.30 .130 67.00 45.00 50.00 69.00
28 3.55 .140 101.00 56.00 75.00 98.00
30 3.90 .153 124.00 79.00 92.00 150.00

HALF PEARLS
II QUALITY. PER HUNDRED

Size No. 1873 1876 1878 1885 1908
4 $0.55 $0.45 $0.30 $0.84
5 .70 $0.35 .50 .35 1.22
6 .90 .45 .70 .50 1.87
7 1.10 .55 .85 .80 3.05
8 1.35 .70 1.00 1.05 4.43
9 1.80 .90 1.35 1.45 5.82
10 2.25 1.10 1.70 1.80 8.32
11 3.35 1.35 2.50 2.60 10.53
12 4.00 1.80 3.00 3.00 12.75
13 4.50 2.25 3.40 3.75 14.41
14 5.60 3.35 4.20 4.25 15.51
15 6.75 4.00 5.00 4.75 18.00
16 9.00 4.50 6.75 5.25 20.80
17 10.00 5.60 7.50 6.00 26.35
18 11.00 6.75 8.40 7.00 31.90
19 14.00 9.00 10.00 7.75 41.60
20 17.00 10.00 12.50 8.75 52.70
22 20.00 14.00 15.00
24 27.00 19.00 20.00
26 34.00 23.00 25.00
28 51.00 28.00 38.00
30 62.00 40.00 46.00

HALF PEARLS
III QUALITY. PER HUNDRED

Size No. 1876 1907 Size No. 1876 1908
4 $0.47 15 2.70 8.93
5 $0.25 .70 16 3.35 11.20
6 .35 1.11 17 4.00 13.90
7 .40 1.94 18 4.50 18.00
8 .45 2.77 19 5.60 22.20
9 .70 3.86 20 6.75 27.75
10 .80 4.99 22 9.00 40.00
11 .90 5.82 24 14.00 75.00
12 1.10 6.65 26 17.00 85.00
13 1.60 7.48 28 19.00 100.00
14 2.25 8.32 30 28.00 200.00

VALUE OF IRREGULAR PEARLS IN 1774[397]

Pearls to the Value in English money Equivalent in Average for
ounce U. S. currency each pearl

£ s.

500 3 0 $15.00 $0.03

300 6 0 30.00 .10

150 11 2 55.50 .37

100 18 0 90.00 .90

60 33 15 168.75 2.81

30 75 0 375.00 12.50

The following values for the smaller oriental pearls are given in the
“Museum Brittanicum” of John and Andrew van Rymsdyck, 1778, p. 9.

No. to the ounce Rix dollars Equivalent in U. Average for each
S. currency pearl

200 70 $75.60 $0.378

300 50 54.00 .18

900 10 10.80 .012

2000 3 4.24 .00212

4000 2½ 2.70 .006755

8000 } 2 2.16 { .00027
10,000 } { .000216

Pio Naldi’s treatise of 1791 gives the following rule for estimating the
value of small, round pearls, weighing less than one carat or four
grains. As the carat value of four such pearls is given as five lire and
576 one-grain pearls were counted as one ounce, these two numbers were
used to determine the value of an ounce of small pearls. The product of
576 multiplied by 5 is 2880, and this number was then divided by 2000,
1000, 500, or whatever might be the number of pearls in a given ounce.
If there were 2000 pearls, the carat value would be 1.44 lire or $.29;
if there were 1000, the carat would be worth 2.88 lire or $.57; if 500,
5.76 lire or $1.15, etc.

The same author[398] gives tables expressing the values of pearls not
perfectly spherical in form, which he designates as “perle dolce.” These
pearls he considers to be worth half the price of good round pearls;
that is to say, 2½ lire (about $.50) per carat for four weighing
together one carat. Where there are as many as three thousand of these
“perle dolce” in an ounce, the 2½ lire base is multiplied by 576, the
number of grains given to the ounce; this makes the value of an ounce of
one-grain pearls $288. This amount is then divided by 3000, and the
quotient, $.096, represents the value of one carat of these small
pearls. Multiplying this by 144 we obtain, as the value of an ounce of
such pearls, $13.82. An ounce consisting of two thousand would be worth
$20.73, while if there were but one hundred to the ounce it would be
valued at $414.72, or $4.15 for each pearl and $.72 per grain of weight.
In this latter case the pearls would average 5¾ grains. Another class of
pearls denominated by this author as “scaramazzi,” pearls of an
irregular form and with protuberances, are estimated in a similar way,
but at exactly half of the above values. The baroque pearls were not
considered to be worth even half as much as the “scaramazzi.”

Scotch pearls (fresh-water) are mentioned by De Boot (1609, p. 88 _sq._)
among the other western pearls—Bohemian, etc. He remarks that they were
valued much less than the oriental pearls, but if they were of
especially pure color their value was greater, although they lacked the
silvery hue characteristic of the eastern pearl. Fine pearls of this
sort were valued on a carat base of one fourth of a thaler ($.27), so
that a forty-grain pearl was worth $27, and one of eighty grains, $108.
The author of the Bologna treatise, “Delle Gemme,” 1791, attributes the
lack of luster in the Scotch pearls to the presence of a dark mass in
the interior which interfered with the passage of light. He estimates
Scotch pearls to be worth one half the value of oriental pearls of
mediocre quality, provided the former are fairly good.

A Scotch writer of the seventeenth century is more enthusiastic in
regard to these pearls; he mentions having paid one hundred rix dollars
for an exceptionally fine one, but he does not specify its weight. This
is the value given by De Boot for a pearl of this class weighing eighty
grains, as we have just mentioned. The Scotch writer asserts that he
could never sell a necklace of fine Scotch pearls in Scotland itself, as
every one wanted oriental pearls; he continues: “At this very day I can
show some of our own Scots Pearls as fine, more hard and transparent
than any Oriental. It is true that the Oriental can be easier matched,
because they are all of a yellow water, yet foreigners covet Scots
Pearls.”

In Ceylon[399] and India, pearl-grading and valuing has received close
attention, and an elaborate system has been evolved by the pearl
merchants. This system has been in use for generations and possibly for
centuries. Although apparently very complicated, it is in reality quite
simple, if we only remember that the value of inferior pearls is
determined by their weight, whereas the value of superior pearls is
computed from the square of their weight.

The pearls are first grouped according to the size, of which ten grades
are made. This is done by passing them successively through ten brass
saucer-like sieves or baskets (_peddi_), each about three and a half
inches in diameter and one inch deep. The holes in the bottom of each
sieve are of uniform size, but they are graduated in size for the
different baskets. The pearls are sifted in the basket with the largest
holes, and those which will not pass through are of the first size. The
pearls which pass through are then sifted in the second basket, and
those retained are of the second size; and so on through the entire
series of ten sieves or baskets. Those which pass through the tenth
sieve are known as _masi-túl_, or powder pearls; they are of little
value owing to their very small size, and are not subject to further
classification. Of course, the attached pearls or very irregular
baroques—the _oddumuttu_—are not subject to the sifting process, and are
valued independently of this.

Sometimes in India, as well as in western countries, false measures are
used, and an oriental pearl merchant may have one set of sieves for use
in buying and another for selling. The rule for determining the proper
size of the holes in the first sieve is that they may pass pearls
weighing 20 to the _kalan̄chǔ_, whence this sieve is commonly known as
the “20 _peddi_.” The second sieve is the “30 _peddi_,” since it passes
pearls weighing 30 to the _kalan̄chǔ_. In the proper order the other
sieves respectively pass pearls requiring 50, 80, 100, 200, 400, 600,
800, and 1000 to the _kalan̄chǔ_.

This use of sieves for grading the Ceylon pearls was mentioned by
Cleandro Arnobio, a writer of the latter part of the sixteenth century,
in his “Tesoro delle Gioie,” and he took his description from an older
writer, Garzia dell’ Horto.

After the sifting, each of the ten graded lots of pearls are placed on
pieces of cloth for classification as to quality, shape, and luster.
This classification requires much skill and judgment on the part of the
valuer. Not only will two persons commonly fail to class a large lot of
pearls exactly alike, but one person is not likely to class the same lot
twice in precisely the same manner.

From long established custom, recognition is made of twelve classes into
which the ten grades or sizes of pearls are divided with respect to
shape and luster, the local names of these classes giving a fair
indication of their respective characteristics. These names are:

1 _Ani_, “best”: perfect in sphericity and luster, the true orient
pearl.

2 _Anatári_, “follower”: failing slightly in sphericity and luster.

3 _Masanku_ or _Masaku_: badly colored pearls, usually gray,
symmetrical, and with luster.

4 _Kaiyéral_, “the clasp of a necklace”: a dark-colored treble pearl,
not quite round.

5 _Machchakai._

6 _Vadivu_, “beauty,” also “decreasing”: that which is strained or
sifted; found in the 100, 200, and 400 sieves. These small
pearls, regular in shape, and of good luster, are especially
favored in the East.

7 _Madanku_, “folded,” or “bent”: all pearls of _vadivu_ size that
are imperfect in form or color.

8 _Kǔrǔval_, “short”: deformed and double pearls; they may, however,
be of excellent luster. _Ani Kǔrǔval_: where two _áni_ are fused
together, but so formed that if separate they would be perfectly
spherical. _Písal Kǔrǔval_: where several pearls of good luster
and color are fused partially and irregularly together. _Pampara
Kǔrǔval_: a pearl grooved regularly, like a top.

9 _Kalippu_, “abundance,” or “rejected”: inferior to _Anatári_; a
good pearl, may be lens-shaped or elongated; usually flattened.

10 _Písal_, “torn”: a deformed pearl or cluster of small misshapen
pearls; of poor color and of little value.

11 _Kurál_: very misshapen and small.

12 _Túl_, “powder”: the seed-pearls, those retained by the 600, 800,
and 1000 sieves.

In addition to the above designations, the following are also used:

_Samadiam_: a pearl of a reddish hue; pear-shaped but of dull color.

_Nimelai_: a nose-pearl, perfect skinned, and pear- or egg-shaped.

_Sirippu_: a pearl grooved with irregular wrinkle-like furrows.

_Kodai_, “brown”: like a nut, with no nacreous luster; formed of
prismatic shell; may be large, is usually spherical, and includes
pearls of various colors. This name is also used for white pearls
with black or brown marks. _Van Kodai_: a _kodai_ pearl with one
side nacreous. _Karunk Kodai_: a black or blue-black slag-like
pearl.

_Masi-túl_, “ink-dust,” or “chalk-powder”: smaller than the 1000
sieve. Generally used for medicinal purposes, or burnt and eaten
with areca-nut and betel by the natives.

_Oddu_—or _Ottumuttu_, “shell-pearl”: an attached pearl or nacreous
excrescence on the outside of the shell.

Of the twelve classes named above, the first four are known as the
_chevvǔ_, or superior classes; the next three as the _vadivu_, or
beautiful classes; and the last five as the _kalan̄chǔ_, or inferior
classes. The _chevvǔ_ pearls are found only in the first four sieves or
baskets; and for this reason these are known as the _chevvǔ peddi_ or
“chevvǔ baskets,” although they may also retain inferior pearls. A name
used to indicate the class of pearls found in the first four sieves is
_mel_ or _melmuttu_, “upper” or “superior pearl,” while _vadivu_
designates those retained by the next three and _túl_ those of the last
three.

After the pearls have been graded according to size and classified
according to quality, they are weighed. The unit of weight is the
_manchádi_, the seed of _Abrus precatorius_, a small, red berry of
practically uniform weight when ripe. H. W. Gillman of the Ceylon Civil
Service reports the weight of the _man̄chádi_ to be 3.35 grains troy.
Fractional parts of a unit are obtained by using a berry called
_kundumani_, grains of rice, etc., whose weights have been determined
beforehand. A brass weight—the _kalan̄chǔ_—is also employed; it equals
67 grains or 20 _man̄chádi_.

However, choice pearls—those of the superior classes—are not valued in
this manner, but at so much per _chevvǔ_ of their weight, which is three
fourths of the square of the weight in _man̄chádi_. Thus, to find the
value of an _anatári_ pearl in the second sieve, if the weight be found
to be three _man̄chádi_, three fourths of the square of three, or 6¾, is
multiplied by the base value of the _anatári_ class.

The actual process of the calculation of value is as follows: owing to
the small size of the pearls, many fractions enter into the
computations; to preserve uniformity it is customary to increase all
fractions so that each may have 320 as a denominator, this being a
common multiple of those that ordinarily arise in _chevvǔ_ calculations.
The weight in _man̄chádi_ of the pearls is increased to a fractional
figure having 320 as a denominator. Three fourths of the square of the
numerator of this fraction is divided by the number of pearls, and this
quotient is divided twice consecutively by 320, giving the _chevvǔ_ of
the weight. The market value then follows from the quoted price of the
pearls per _chevvǔ_ at the time.

In actual practice, these computations are not made; but each merchant
provides himself with sets of tables showing the calculations for
different weights, analogous to the use of interest tables by bankers,
or of tables of logarithms by surveyors. Some of the merchants commit
these tables to memory, and at times may be heard reciting them quietly
to themselves to refresh the memory.

If a pearl of a particular grade and class is of exceptional merit, the
merchant adds somewhat to the money value computed by the above process.
This applies especially to double pearls of the _kǔrǔval_ class, which
sometimes consist of two fine bouton pearls suitable for setting, but
not for stringing.

Pearls of one of the inferior or _kalan̄chǔ_ classes are valued by
simple weight, at so much per _kalan̄chǔ_, the market price, of course,
differing for pearls of the various classes. The weight having been
ascertained, each in its class as before noted, the value is determined
by multiplying that weight by the current market price per unit of such
pearls, at so many rupees per _kalan̄chǔ_.

The star pagoda is used in calculating the values. This small gold coin
was current in south India in the early part of the last century. In the
computations it is considered to be worth three and a half rupees,
although its intrinsic value as a gold coin is about six rupees.

It is considered probable that the London syndicate,[400] which has
lately leased the Ceylon pearl fisheries for a period of twenty years,
will do away with the complicated calculations employed for so many
generations, surviving all changes of administration, Portuguese, Dutch,
and British. This is only one of the many instances showing the tendency
of the British Government to abolish time-honored usages in India,
without regard to the wishes of its population; and, unimportant as many
of these changes may seem to us, they all serve to foster a spirit of
discontent that may lead to serious trouble. This conduct on the part of
Great Britain is all the stranger in view of the stubborn opposition of
that country to the adoption of the scientific and logical metric
system.

In Bombay, the weight of pearls in tanks is made the basis of their
valuation; the tank equals 24 ratti or about 72 grains troy. The square
of the number of tanks is multiplied by 330 and the quotient divided by
the number of pearls; this gives the number of _chevvǔs_, or _chows_, as
they are sometimes called, and the market price of the _chevvǔs_ for a
given class of pearls shows their value. If, for instance, we have 56
pearls of a certain quality, weighing 5 tanks, and the _chevvǔs_ of
these pearls is worth 14 rupees, the sum would be as follows:

5 × 5 × 330 × 14
———————————————— = 2062.5 rupees, or about $825.
56

In this case, as in the other system of weighing which we have
mentioned, the _chevvǔs_ is only a nominal weight; but there is in India
a real weight unit which bears this name.[401]

The high esteem in which the pearl was held by the Hindus is well
illustrated by the following statement from an old treatise on gems: “A
pearl weighing two kalan̄jas (about 180 grains) should not be worn even
by kings. It is for the gods, it is without equal.”[402]

An interesting account of a great savant’s experience, in the early part
of the sixteenth century, regarding the value of pearls, is given by
Guillaume Budé[403] (1467–1540), the celebrated French Hellenist who
lived during the reign of Francis I and who is regarded as the founder
of the College de France. In his work entitled “De Asse,” he states that
he once inquired of a gem dealer in Paris whether the latter could
recall the weight of some remarkable pearl which had passed through his
hands. The dealer replied that he had seen one weighing 30 carats (120
grains), whereupon another gem dealer, who was present, remarked that he
had in his possession one of 40 carats (160 grains). This pearl was sold
a few days later for 3000 gold crowns ($6750). On another occasion Budé
was told that a pearl of exquisite beauty weighing 30 carats, had been
sold to the Duchesse de Bourbon, daughter of Louis XI of France, for the
sum of 4000 gold crowns ($9000).

In regard to the manner of computing the value of pearls Budé writes: “I
think the ratio of these prices can be calculated. When I asked a gem
dealer what was the value of a pearl of four carats [sixteen grains],
according to the formula, he replied: ‘I have seen such a pearl sell for
thirty gold crowns [$67.50].’ Whereupon I asked: ‘How much would you
estimate one weighing eight carats [thirty-two grains]?’ ‘At least two
hundred gold crowns [$450],’ he answered; and as I continued to ply him
with questions, gradually increasing the weight, he responded in such a
way that I could understand that the increase of the price bore not a
numerical, but a proportional relation to the weight; so that the above
mentioned eight-carat pearl, having double the weight of a four-carat
pearl, was valued at seven times as much. The same was true of a pearl
weighing twelve carats, twenty carats, and so on; the price augmenting
by a greater and greater increment as the weight increased.”

In the “Coronae Gemma Noblissima” of Wilhelmus Eo (1621, pp. 32, 33), an
instance is given of the rapid changes that are possible in the worth of
a pearl. A large and beautiful pearl was brought to Nuremberg by a
merchant who had paid 500 florins for it; he soon found a purchaser
among the merchants there, who was willing to pay him 800 florins. This
latter merchant in his turn disposed of his gem for 1000 florins, and
shortly after it again changed hands twice, the first time at an advance
of 200 florins and the second at an advance of 300 florins. All this
happened within a few days. The writer tells us that the last purchaser,
who paid 1500 florins for the pearl, took it with him to Venice “where
the wealthy dames wear a great treasure of beautiful pearls as necklaces
upon their bare skin, and he will not have lost anything on his pearl
there.”

In 1884, Mr. Edwin Streeter was asked by a member of a London syndicate
to proceed to the East, to value a large quantity of jewels, as a heavy
sum of money was about to be advanced to a certain Power, to provide the
sinews of war. On his way he was requested to stop at one of the
principal towns in Germany to purchase some jewels which had been valued
for probate but were not easy of sale in that market. The valuation
paper was shown to him, and after examining the ornaments, he agreed to
take them at the prices named. Among them was an old gold brooch of
Russian manufacture, valued at £4; in the center of this brooch was what
appeared to be a piece of hematite, but was in reality a fine, round,
black pearl, weighing 77 grains. The color had faded from exposure to
the sun. This pearl was brought to London, and the outer layer was taken
off, when a perfect black pearl of 67 grains was uncovered. This was
sold to a manufacturing jeweler in London for £400; but, having heard
that in Paris there was a pearl that would exactly match it, Mr.
Streeter bought it back again for £600, and then sold it at a large
profit to one of the Paris crown jewelers, who, in his turn, sold the
pair to a rich iron merchant for 50,000 francs (£2000 or $10,000). Since
then the sum of 100,000 francs (£4000 or $20,000) has been refused for
this pair of matchless black pearls. At present values they may be worth
double this sum.

At different times the values assigned to the different forms and colors
of pearls have varied. For instance, in the French Encyclopédie of 1774
(Vol. XII, p. 385), it is stated that pear-shaped pearls, although they
might be equally perfect and of the same weight as round pearls, were
valued much less than these. Even in the case of well-matched pairs,
their price was a third less than that of round pearls.

As early as the sixteenth century it was not uncommon that jewelers who
had in their possession a fine pear-shaped pearl would have a replica of
it molded in lead, and then send the casts to the large cities of Europe
and the East. If a mate was found for it, the respective owners soon
came to terms, for such pearls command a much higher price together than
they do separately.

An interesting story is told of no less a collector than the Duke of
Brunswick, who was so generous to the city of Geneva. For many years
every pear-shaped pearl from every land had been submitted to him for
examination. He always claimed the privilege of examining it alone for a
moment or two and in every instance he returned it. At last a new
pear-shaped pearl of marvelous size and beauty was heard of in a distant
country. It was sent to Germany, where the duke was visiting at that
time, to a local dealer who acted as agent for the owner. The price
demanded for it seemed excessive, but the duke took the pearl, stepped
aside for a moment, and said, quick as a flash, “The pearl is mine.” The
next day he showed it with a mate he had owned for many years and that
was a most faultless match. Through all the years of his search he had
never informed any one of his intention to match the pearl he already
owned.

In 1879, at the time of the death of the father of Sultan Buderuddin of
the Sulu Islands, a box of large and fine pearls was among the treasures
he left behind him. Many of these disappeared, but some of them came
into the hands of Sultan Buderuddin and his mother. The former sold
those which he had inherited, in order to defray the expenses of a
pilgrimage to Mecca, in 1882. His mother, who exerted a great influence
over the conduct of affairs, retained a number of the pearls, and it was
always difficult to induce her to part with any of them. When, as very
rarely happened, she was persuaded to do so, she invariably got a higher
price for them than they would have commanded in London, because she was
never anxious to sell, and always said: “Why should I sell my pearls? If
the Spaniards come to attack us, I can put them in a handkerchief and go
into the hills; but if I had dollars I should need a number of men to
carry them.” We do not yet know what became of the stolen pearls.

Many times has a dealer put nearly all that he possessed into a fine
pearl or necklace, frequently without a reward; often gradually buying
more and more, hoping for some great patron to relieve him. When the
client appears, there is happiness, but when he does not, there is woe.
This instance is well illustrated when Philip IV of Spain asked of the
merchant Gogibus: “How have you ventured to put all your fortune into
such a small object?” “Because I knew there was a king of Spain to buy
it of me,” was the quick reply. And Philip rewarded the faith of the
jeweler by purchasing the pearl.

Caire and Dufie[404] state:

We need have no fear that either the price or the use of pearls will
diminish when we consider the great demand for them both on account
of luxury and superstition. There is no Hindu who does not regard it
as a matter of religion that he should pierce at least one pearl on
the occasion of his marriage. This must be a new pearl which has
never been perforated. Whatever may be the mysterious signification,
this very ancient usage is, at least, very useful for the commerce
of pearls.

In 1898, one of the writers had a long talk with his late chief, who
had, at that time, devoted sixty years of his life to the jewelry
profession. In the course of the conversation the latter remarked: “It
seems to me that pearls are too dear”; to which the writer rejoined:
“Have pearls ever gone down in price during your entire connection with
the jewelry profession?” The answer was: “No, they have always
advanced.” Whereupon the writer said: “I can give you statistics for two
hundred years preceding your earliest experience, which prove that
pearls constantly advanced in value during that period.”

The following are the names given to the different kinds of pearls,
according to their origin.

The term “oriental” designates those pearls that are found in the true
pearl-oyster, and have a marine or salt-water origin, being found either
in the ocean or one of its adjacent tributaries, and belonging to one of
the numerous species of the Margaritiferæ.

The term “fresh-water” is given to those pearls that are found in the
fresh-water brooks, rivulets, rivers, or fresh-water lakes, and not in
salt water, and which belong to the Unionidæ.

The term “conch” is applied to that variety of pearl which is usually
pink, or yellow, in color, and that is either found in the univalve
shell, known as the common conch (_Strombus gigas_), or in the yellow
shell (_Cassis madagascarensis_).

The word “clam pearl” is used to designate those pearls that are found
in the common clam of the Atlantic coast, and are either black, dark
purple, purple, or mixed with white, more especially if they are boiled.

“Placuna pearl” designates those pearls that are found in the Placuna,
or window-glass shell, in the East. They have a micaceous luster, are
rarely of much value, and are sold entirely in the Orient, almost
exclusively for medicinal purposes.

“Oyster pearl” signifies those concretions that are found in the common
edible oyster (Ostrea). They are generally black, purple, or with a
mixture of black and white, or purple and white. They are devoid of
nacreous luster and possess neither beauty nor value.

“Coque de perle” designates the globuse walls of the nautilus and
possibly other shells that have a pearly nacre; they are almost
hemispherical and are either round or long, having a pearly effect.

“Abalone”: a name applied to those pearls that are found in the univalve
“ear-shell” or _awabi_, as it is called in Japan. They are generally
green, blue-green, or fawn-yellow, and have an intense red, flame-like
iridescence. They are rarely round, generally flat, or irregular, and
are occasionally worth several hundreds of dollars each.

“Pinna pearls”: those pearls that are found in the Pinna, or wing-shells
of the Mediterranean and adjacent seas. These possess no orient, but are
more highly crystalline than any other pearls. They are almost
translucent and have a peculiar red or yellow color, and are of little
value except locally.

“Cocoanut pearl”: this name is given to those pearls that are found in
the giant oyster or clam of the vicinity of Singapore; they are
erroneously called cocoanut pearls because they have the appearance of
the meat of the cocoanut. They are often of great size, but have no
commercial value.

The following are special designations of the different varieties of
pearls according to their forms and appearance:

Paragon: this term was formerly used to designate large and
exceptionally perfect or beautiful pearls, usually weighing over one
hundred grains.

Round: when the pearl is absolutely spherical, as if turned on a lathe,
without any flattening or any indentations on the sides.

Button or Bouton: if the pearl is domed on top and has either a flat or
slightly convex back.

Pear-shaped: when the pearl is formed like a pear, terminating in a
point, and is either flat at the lower end or rounded.

Drop-shaped: when the pearl is elongated like a pear, but is larger at
the lower end than a pear-shaped pearl.

Egg-shaped: when ovate in form, rounded more or less at each end, or
formed like an egg.

Cone-shaped: applied to pearls that are elongated and rounded with one
flat end, and have the form of a cone.

Top-shaped: a name given to those pearls that are broad, flattened at
the top and rounded on the sides, terminating in a point, like a top.

Seed-pearls is a name given to pearls that are round or irregular, and
weigh one fourth grain or even less. They are frequently so small that
18,000 are contained in a single ounce, and they are often sent from the
East in bunches of about a dozen or so of strings.

Dust-pearls. When seed-pearls are very small they are known as
“dust-pearls”; they are really as fine as dust and have very little
value; still, their form is in many cases wonderfully perfect.

Petal pearls are those which are somewhat flat, frequently more pointed
at one end than at the other, and have the appearance of a petal or
leaf.

Hinge pearls are those pearls that are long, generally pointed at either
or both ends, and are found near the hinge part of the shell. They are
divided into two distinct forms, namely dog-tooth, and wing-shaped.

Wing pearls: those that are elongated or irregular, resembling a wing or
part of a wing.

Dog-tooth: applied to pearls with pointed ears, elongated, and which are
narrower than the wing pearls.

Slugs: a name used for the very irregular, distorted pearls, frequently
made up of masses or groups of small pearls; usually without luster or
form, and of little value except for medicinal purposes.

Nuggets: when the pearls are somewhat round, but are indented or
slightly irregular.

Haystacks: when the pearls are either round or oval, with the top
considerably elevated.

Turtlebacks: when the pearls are a trifle longer than they are wide,
with a domed surface not much elevated. This form is quite prevalent
among American pearls.

Strawberry pearls: those that are round or elongated and entirely
covered with prickly points, somewhat resembling a strawberry or pickle.
It is believed that these irregular marks are frequently produced by
minute pearls.

“Blister” and “Chicot” are names applied to those pearls that are found
embedded within a nacreous coating, often containing mud, water, or
imperfect mother-of-pearl. After these “blisters,” as they are termed,
are broken, and layer after layer has been removed from the contents,
very fine pearls have frequently been found.

Peelers: a term applied to pearls having imperfect surfaces or skins
that may have some inner layers which are perfect. Pearls having opaque
bands or rings are rarely peeled with much success as this opaque layer
frequently extends to some depth.

Cylindrical pearls: for pearls that have the form of a cylinder, being
elongated and flattened at each end.

Hammer pearls: when pearls are long and somewhat rounded and assume the
shape of a hammer or barrel. These are rounded or domed at the side and
flattened at the ends.

Baroque (Wart pearls in German): when pearls are not of any perfect form
such as round, pear, ovate, or any regular form, they are termed
baroque, and this term covers a large class of varieties, such as all
that follow (except seed- and half-pearls).

Double, triple, or twin pearls are those that are made up of two or more
pearls united together in a single nacreous coating, showing, however,
that they are still separate pearls.

Monster pearls: this name was formerly applied to very large, irregular,
pearly masses which either resembled some animal or were adapted to form
the head, trunk, or other part of an animal: these are also occasionally
called “Paragons.”

Bird’s-eye: a name used for a pearl that has dull spots, giving it the
appearance of a bird’s-eye.

“Ring-a-round” is a term applied to such pearls as are black, brown,
pink, or white, and have a circle running around the pearl itself of
some distinctive contrasting color, as white on black, pink on brown or
black on white.

Embedded pearls are those that are partly or entirely surrounded by
mother-of-pearl, having been enveloped and passed outward from the
interior of the shell by the mollusk so that in time the pearl would
have been lost on the outside of the shell. These embedded pearls are
occasionally found in the manufacture of mother-of-pearl articles. When
the mother-of-pearl is split, the pearl will fall out from between the
layers.

Half-pearls is the name given to such pearls as are round and
spherically domed, and are either somewhat flat or almost the shape of
one half of a whole pearl of the same diameter. They are usually made by
cutting off the best part of a hemispherical bright spot from a large
irregular pearl; frequently two to four cuttings are made from the
bright spots of a single pearl, each of the cuttings having the
appearance of half a pearl.

The so-called Indian pearls have a faint rosy tint with much orient.
These are generally pearls from the Ceylonese fisheries that are sold
from the Bombay side. The term “Madras white” describes the whiter
varieties, there being a preference for these in Madras, while the rosy,
yellow, and darker shades are favored in Bombay.

Australian pearls are generally a pure waxy white and lustrous, often
with a silver-white sheen, extremely brilliant and beautiful.

Nearly all the Venezuela and Panama pearls have a faint golden-yellow
tint, very often extremely lustrous, and are especially desired by the
darker skinned people and brunettes.

The preference at various times has varied with different peoples: in
China and India, golden-yellow and satin-yellow pearls are preferred;
from Panama we have the very white; in Bombay the yellow pearls from the
Persian Gulf are highly appreciated.

Yellow pearls from other shells than the pearl-oyster are frequently
offered for sale in the East, where they are greatly appreciated,
although they find little favor in England. Some of these pearls are
attributed to the pearly nautilus (_Nautilus pompilius_). This may be
the case with those that have a pearly luster, but those that have the
appearance of porcelain, and are as bright as polished china, are
certainly not from this shell, but evidently from the large Melo or
other shells of that character. Some may come from the large conch
(_Cassis madagascarensis_). A yellow pearl, very perfect in form and
color, and weighing more than one hundred grains, was shown at the Paris
Exposition of 1889 and was valued at 50,000 francs.

Wonderful golden-yellow pearls with a saffron tint are unusually
lustrous and beautiful. One of the most remarkable pearls of this
character is of a brilliant golden-yellow color which belongs to an
American lady, and weighs 30½ grains. These pearls are from Shark’s Bay,
West Australia, and only a limited number of them are found annually.

Black pearls do not seem to have been regarded with any favor by the
ancients, and we find no mention of them by medieval writers. Only fifty
years ago a perfectly round, black pearl, weighing 8 grains, was sold
for £4 ($20); to-day this pearl would easily bring £100 ($500). Empress
Eugenie, the wife of Napoleon III, may be said to have brought them into
favor; she owned a splendid necklace of black pearls which was sold at
Christie’s, after the fall of Napoleon, for the sum of £4000 ($20,000).
Some time later, the Marquis of Bath bought, at Christie’s, the pearl
which formed the clasp of the necklace, paying £1000 ($5000) for it; he
destined it for the center of a bracelet.

Greenish-black pearls are perhaps valued higher than any other colored
pearls, if they have the proper orient; this is probably partly owing to
their rarity. A bluish-black pearl possessing a fine orient commands
almost the same price as a pure black pearl. Those which are found in
the _Placuna placenta_ are often of a dull gray hue, while those
produced by the _Pinna squamosa_ are generally brown in color.

Baroque pearls were formerly much worn and appreciated in Spain and
Poland. Their price varies greatly, according to their size, their
beauty, and also to their scarcity in any particular place. The pieces
of pearl detached from the shells—often half-pearl and half
mother-of-pearl, and called “de fantaisie”—are always very irregular in
form, and sometimes offer a certain resemblance to a part of the human
or animal form.[405]

How is it that such quantities of jewels are continually brought from
the East, and such a wealth of them continues to exist there, when there
are now no very extensive mines that maintain a constant supply? The
reason is that from time immemorial, precious stones have been the form
in which wealth, in those lands, has been hoarded and preserved. Until
very recently, in the Orient, interest-bearing securities have been
unknown; and hence jewels have been sought and kept as an investment,
and sold only when money was needed for special purposes, as in times of
war, famine, or other emergency.

Their small bulk made them easy to conceal and to transport, and hence
they were well adapted for such use. How long this condition will last,
is perhaps dependent only upon the introduction of interest-paying
investments, and of the new forms of Western civilization that involve
greater expenses and require means of income in excess of the older and
simpler conditions.

The wealth of jewels possessed by Oriental monarchs, notables, and
dealers, has been the theme of story and tradition, time out of mind. We
of the West have been disposed to regard these tales as largely
exaggerated, and to some extent they may be; yet any one who has
witnessed an important social function or state occasion where East
Indian rajahs and nabobs are present, knows that the profusion of jewels
which they wear is simply astounding to our Western eyes. These objects
represent, moreover, the gatherings of generations and centuries; they
are heirlooms and ancestral treasures, priceless to their owners as the
pride of their houses; handed down from fathers to sons in long
succession; and they have also the investment feature already noted, in
that whenever necessity arises they can be turned into available funds.

The manner of keeping and of selling such objects is also different from
ours. If it be a question of buying gems from an Eastern owner, the best
are never shown first, but on the contrary, the most inferior. The
purchaser must either be content with these, or else must prove clearly
that he is a substantial buyer or evince a knowledge and appreciation
that mark him as a judge of such objects. The order in which they are
produced is, first the poorest, then successively, poor, medium, fair,
good, fine, and at last the rare and wonderful prizes.

In visiting an Oriental dignitary, his jewel-treasures are not all shown
at once, as at an American reception or an Indian durbar, or even as a
collector or connoisseur among us exhibits his cabinet, arranged for
choice display. The method is far different. The visitor may be shown a
few objects in the first day or hour; perhaps a few more later in the
day; some on the next day or the one following, and so on; and he may
remain a guest for weeks, and never see all, or the finest of the jewels
belonging to his host. When they are produced, moreover, they are not in
iron caskets or in gold or silver jewel-cases, covered or lined with
fine leather or with silk or satin. On the contrary, they are often in
old ginger jars, shabby boxes, tin cans, and all sorts of unsightly or
unpromising receptacles, which, when placed between the owner and his
guest, may well cause the latter to wonder. Nor is his surprise lessened
as the wrappings are unfolded, one after another, perhaps a dozen old
cloths, until the piece of jewelry or the splendid pearl is at last
brought to view, after having been hidden from sight in its manifold
wrappings for months or perhaps for years.

But this method of keeping such treasures is not in reality so strange
as it appears. There are none of the provisions that we have for the
responsible safe-guarding of investments or valuable objects,—no
fire-proof safes, no banks, no deposit-vaults. Security is best attained
by concealment in unattractive and improbable receptacles, and by
dividing and distributing the treasured objects. The owner, too, must
learn to know his visitor quite well before he exhibits to him all, or
the best, that he possesses. Hence the oriental method, though so
peculiar to us, has been the best adapted to the conditions among those
peoples.

As an illustration of the interest taken by Oriental potentates in the
collection of jewels, we quote an instance from Marco Polo, who,
centuries ago, wrote the following:[406] “Several times every year the
King of Maabar sends his proclamation through the realm that if any one
who possesses a pearl or stone of great value will bring it to him, he
will pay for it twice as much as it cost. Everybody is glad to do this,
and thus the King gets all into his own hands, giving every man his
price.”

Great quantities of pearls, the result of centuries of accumulation, and
exceeding in splendor the collections of the present day, must have been
garnered up in many cities of the Orient during the period of their
prosperity. But these cities have disappeared, wrecked and ruined by
fire and sword, and no vestige of their former wealth remains with them.
Their treasures have been looted, hoarded, buried, or scattered to the
four ends of the Orient, frequently finding their way in former times to
Europe, but now more often to America, where fine gems always find a
generous buyer.

In Syria, and some of the Oriental countries, until recently, and
perhaps at the present time, it has been the custom, when a native
wished to embark in the pearl business, for him to allow himself to
drift gradually into a state of vagrancy, becoming a veritable tramp for
fully a year. Then, with the money that he had himself or that which was
supplied by his backer, he would visit the pearl fisheries and shrewdly
acquire the gems to the best advantage, returning again as a vagrant;
for if it were known at any point along the route that he carried with
him sums of money his life would be in jeopardy, and he would probably
never reach the fisheries; or, if he did, the chances are that he would
never return. This may remind us of Marco Polo’s old coat, in which he
had concealed some valuable gems, the gift of the Grand Khan. His wife
heedlessly gave the coat to a beggar and it was only regained by a
clever stratagem.

The product of the pearl fisheries, either that of entire fisheries
where they are managed by a company, or the gatherings of merchants, or
even the single gems which may be acquired by the smaller merchants, all
these usually find their way to the great markets, although occasionally
they change hands at once. In the East they are sent either to Bombay,
Calcutta, Madras or Colombo; frequently they are intended for a higher
market. Many of them remain in the East, for in the East to-day a fine
pearl is as much prized as ever, and there are those who love pearls as
much as did the King of Maabar in the time of Marco Polo. However, the
world over, there is a feeling that if things are sent to the greatest
market there will be an opportunity for disposing of them at the
greatest price. Therefore, the larger number of parcels of exceptionally
fine pearls are sent to the London market, a few of them going to Paris,
the cable, often within a few days after their arrival, informing the
sender of the acceptance or rejection of a parcel, or of a new offer
which is often accepted. In this market they are acquired by the
dealers, who frequently exhibit many times before the lot is purchased.

Pearls from a fishery are in many cases of mixed quality; that is to
say, they are of different sizes and varying grades of perfection as
regards skin, color, and orient. These parcels are often sold directly
on offers to dealers, but generally they are sold by brokers who show
the various parcels to the dealers, each of the latter in turn making
his offer on that portion of the parcel which is of most value to him.
Thus a single dealer may want one pearl, a dozen, or even twenty or
more, to complete a great necklace, or else to add to, or improve the
necklace, by better graduation or by increasing the evenness of the
color. When the broker receives enough offers to give him the desired
price for the entire parcel, the sale is consummated, and each one who
has made an offer and who has sealed his particular parcel until his
offer is accepted or rejected, receives his portion. Pearls do not grow
in the form of necklaces, although they are frequently seen in this form
only, and to create a large necklace means not only the use of the
pearls of one fishery alone, but it often requires a selection from
pearls of various sizes, the product of many fisheries.

It is needless to say that even the shrewdest dealers do not always
succeed in their purchases of lots which are to be broken up when the
proper number of bids are obtained.

When the pearl revival came in 1898 there was a sudden and rapid upward
tendency in the prices, because at that time, in England, money could be
borrowed upon a very low rate of interest—as low as 3 per cent.,—and it
was a temptation to a number of young men to enter as dealers into the
pearl trade. The result was that a number of new stocks were created,
not for a regular, but for a speculative demand, and this tended to
advance the price spasmodically, rather than gradually, as it would have
risen by regular consumption. However, when the foreign market became
higher, the demand for pearls was not as great as had been anticipated,
and there was a sudden adjustment of prices and a readjustment of the
pearl stocks, resulting in the elimination of a certain number of
speculative dealers; and, notwithstanding the state of the fisheries,
pearls have not advanced so rapidly in the past two years as they did
from 1898 to 1905.

More than go per cent. of the pearls of commerce, whether they are
round, perfect, half- or seed-pearls, are of oriental origin; that is,
pearls from the true pearl-oyster. About 8 per cent. are probably from
the fresh-water mussels, three fourths of which are from the United
States.

American fresh-water pearls have had many prejudices to overcome, often
because of the natural indifference in regard to anything that is found
at home or is easily obtainable. It has been said that, in comparison
with foreign pearls, they had less specific gravity; that they were not
so hard, and that their luster was not as good. It is certain, however,
that the skin is generally smooth, and although they may not have so
peculiar an orient, their brilliancy equals that of any known pearls.
Sometimes they are translucent and either pink or of a faintly bluish
tint, like molten silver. More frequently their hue is white, rose, pale
yellow, or pale copper, deepening to copper red until they resemble the
most intense and highly polished copper button.

According to the estimates of the value of European fresh-water pearls
given by seventeenth and eighteenth century writers, their worth was
considered to be one half that of oriental pearls of approximately the
same quality. Few European pearls, we feel sure, were ever found that
possessed the wonderful beauty and brilliancy of the pearls found either
in the Miami or the Mississippi and its many tributaries.

So great a quantity of the poorer quality of pearls have been found,
principally in the Mississippi Valley, that a foreign dealer has bought
30,000 ounces of baroque pearls at $1 an ounce, and of the slightly
better grades fully 100,000 dollars’ worth were obtained in the year
1906. The exportation was strictly limited to the poorer qualities. When
pearls are worth from $1 to $6 a grain and upward, they are rarely sent
abroad, as the regular pearls of this quality are much appreciated by
Americans, and find a ready sale in the United States. The poor pearls
above mentioned were principally sent to New York, either from the local
fishermen, or else through the dealers in sweet-water shells, in lots of
a fraction of an ounce, or in bags weighing a number of pounds. Thirty
thousand ounces would equal 18,180,000 grains.

After all the fine pearls have been selected—buttons, baroques,
turtle-backs, haystacks, wings, petals and other pearls that can be used
in any way as a jewel on this side of the water—the balance of the
material is sold by the ounce, varying in price from $1 to $5. These are
shipped to Germany, France, and Austria, where they are again selected
for cheaper forms of jewelry than are made in the United States. Of
these pearls the baroques and slugs go mainly to Germany, while the
somewhat finer ones are sent to France, where they are used in artistic
but inexpensive work, such as flowers and other imitative forms, and in
_art nouveau_ jewelry. Some, again, are shipped to Algiers, Morocco, and
Egypt, for the decoration of saddles, garments, etc., and quantities go
to India to be used for medicinal purposes. In this way all the material
is utilized and even the poorest is not wasted. No better proof can be
required of the wide-spread appreciation of the pearl among all the
races of mankind.

So extensive has become the finding of American pearls that great
quantities have been gathered together of all varieties. At the time of
this writing there are many large single lots of these pearls, slightly
irregular, and not of fine quality, but yet of sufficient regularity of
size to be termed baroques. At one time such quantities were gotten
together that single papers of pearls, weighing one fourth, one half,
one, two or three grains each, contained more than 10,000 grains, and
quantities of the wing and dog-tooth varieties weighing as much as
20,000 grains were inclosed in a single paper.

So prolific has been the yield of these common American pearls that the
markets of Europe and Asia have almost been flooded with them. In 1906,
a single shipment of 3500 ounces, troy (equaling over 2,100,000 grains),
were sent abroad, at prices varying from $1 to $15 per ounce, according
to the quality. This alone would represent a worth of $30,000 at one
time.

The turtleback is a form quite prevalent among American pearls, and they
are often matched in pairs slightly resembling each other and weighing
from 10 to 100 or more grains for each pair. Some of them are lustrous
and many are of very good color and regular in form. Although differing
but little in shape, they naturally are much less expensive than a finer
formed pearl, and many of them have been sold for link buttons, and more
especially for earscrews. Although they formerly sold for 50 cents a
grain, they are now held at from $1 to $8 per grain.

In regard to the prices of some of the finer American pearls, one of 15
grains, of wonderful brilliancy, luster, and perfection, was sold for
more than $2500–$166 a grain, or a base value of over $11 a grain. Two
extraordinarily well-matched button pearls, weighing a trifle over 30
grains, were held at about $3500, or $115 a grain, a base value of about
$8 a grain.

At the time of this writing there are for sale in the United States a
pair of button earrings, almost round, not of absolutely perfect color,
weighing about 140 grains, the price being $6000; a round, slightly
ovate pearl, not of the finest color, weighing 85 grains, held at $3500;
and a wonderful pearl with a rich, faintly pink luster, round, but
slightly button on each side, weighing about 44 grains, and beautiful as
are American pearls, is held at a fanciful valuation of over $6000.

The cupidity of many of the American pearl finders and pearl dealers
cannot be exceeded even by that of the foreign pearl finder in any other
land, and this is shown by the variety of materials that from time to
time are sold to the unsuspecting public, or that are sent to pearl
dealers in the large cities. This is surprising and suggests either that
the sender believes the pearl dealers are not familiar with these
deceptions, or else that he himself has been imposed upon, and is
innocent in his commercial deceit. Among the notable examples are,
first, spheres made out of the various shells, either from a good part
of the material or from hinge-material, or else from the spot where the
mussel is attached, these pieces of the shell being rounded and
polished; such spheres vary in color from white to pink or yellow, just
as the shell itself may have been colored. Second, the pupils of
fish-eyes. Third, imitation pearls. Fourth, yellow or brown translucent
or transparent masses of hinge-binding material having no greater
hardness than horn, and about the same appearance. The most interesting,
however, are the absolutely beautiful, smooth spheres of anthracite
coal, which admits of a rich polish and has a peculiar luster; these
they attempt to pass off as black pearls.

It is interesting to note that in Arkansas a negro sold a very valuable
pearl for a few dollars, under the persuasion of a white man, who, it is
said, resold the pearl for nearly a hundred times more than what he paid
for it. The local authorities investigated the matter; the case was
brought to court, and the negro received a large advance on the price
that had originally been paid him.

If a list were kept of the thousand and one different methods of
wrapping American pearls for shipment to the larger cities, it would
show how much ingenuity is displayed in environments that frequently
differ very much from each other. A box that has contained the pills
that relieved him of fever, ague, and other ills due to swamps and damp
climates, serves a secondary purpose for the fortunate finder of a pearl
in forming a receptacle in which he can ship it to the greater market.
Sometimes they are sewed in leather cut from gloves and shoes, or in
strips of cloth, generally of the humbler varieties, such as calico or
blue jean; in other cases they are wrapped in tissue-paper and
newspaper; and occasionally they are packed in boxes made by hollowing
out a bit of wood, a cover being nailed over the opening. In almost
every instance they have been treated with a certain degree of care.

The majority of conch pearls which are carried by individuals to New
York, London, or Paris, are generally brought in small papers or bits of
cloth, each pearl being wrapped separately. Usually, there are a few
white ones, a few yellow, a few pale pink, occasionally a few of a very
beautiful rich pink, and once in a great while a fine, large pearl
appears. Many of these pearls, commonly the inferior ones, are sold in
the West Indies directly to the tourists who wish to purchase something
in the country through which they are traveling, with the result that
better prices are generally obtained than would have been secured if the
pearls had been sent to the great markets.

The tariff on pearls at present operative in the United States is so
indefinite as to have led to much serious misinterpretation and
misunderstanding, as well as to an endless chain of lawsuits, often
resulting in serious loss to the dealer or client who imports. As a
consequence of the enforced outlay of large sums for unexpected and
additional duties, the importer, who was both ready and willing to pay
what seemed to him a just duty, often found that, where he had quoted a
price to a customer, he was a loser by the transaction; and if, to
escape this loss, he endeavors to dispute the payment of the duty, he
becomes involved in an expensive and occasionally unsuccessful lawsuit.
On the other hand, a private buyer who has paid all that he feels he can
afford at the time for a necklace, expecting to pay a duty of 10 per
cent. and interpreting the law to mean a duty of 10 per cent., may be
called upon to pay a duty of 60 per cent., or have the notoriety of a
public lawsuit, because the pearls have been strung, or because it is
held that they had recently or at some former time been assembled as a
necklace. In other words, if the pearls constituting such a necklace are
bought at various times from various people, either here or in Europe,
and not as a necklace, the duty is held to be 10 per cent., but if they
are sent in one shipment, a duty of 60 per cent. is levied. As it is
held that pearls assembled in the form of a necklace have a greater
value than before they were so assembled, the purchaser might naturally
expect to pay the 10 per cent. duty on this higher value, but instead of
this a 60 per cent. duty is demanded on the higher assembled value.

The ambiguity of this clause of the tariff is such that a logical ruling
should be made by some superior official such as the Secretary of the
Treasury. As the law is now interpreted, a pearl worth $20,000 can be
brought in with a duty of 10 per cent.; the addition of a simple gold
wire makes it a piece of jewelry, with a duty of 60 per cent. It would
seem that an amendment might be made to the tariff by which an importer,
whether a private buyer or dealer, could be called upon to pay a 60 per
cent. duty on a high valuation of the setting of the ring, brooch, or
jewel, such as $20, $25 or $50; while the contents of the ring or
ornament, whether a pearl, diamond, emerald, or a collection of stones,
should pay a duty of only 10 per cent. This duty would sufficiently
protect the jewelry industry, and would at the same time prevent the
levying of an unjust and unexpected impost upon a fine pearl or gem of
any kind.

It is eminently desirable that those residing in the United States who
purchase pearls in foreign countries, should, if possible, consult with
the United States consul in the city where they make their purchase, in
case they wish to bring the pearls into the United States. In this way a
proper declaration can be made, they will be correctly instructed as to
the duties upon the pearls, whether unstrung, strung, or set, and they
will thus avoid all complications when they reach the United States. Of
course, this may not be necessary should the firm with which they are
dealing be able to attend to the matter for them.

It must not be forgotten that the duty of 25 per cent. on precious
stones, which was imposed during Cleveland’s administration, was enacted
for the purpose of obtaining an increased revenue for the government,
and there is no doubt but that the time was one of great financial
stress. Yet even with the duty two and a half times as high as in the
previous years, only a small fraction was added to the income of the
Government. But one adequate explanation can be given of this remarkable
decrease in the recorded imports, more especially when we consider that
legitimate dealers could, at that time, buy precious stones in New York
City for less than it cost them to purchase them abroad and pay the
duty. It seems, therefore, that a 10 per cent. rate is calculated to
produce the best and most satisfactory results in every way.

As examples of the difficulties encountered in the attempt to arrive at
a proper classification of pearls we cite the following cases which have
been the subjects of recent litigation: In 1901, two very valuable
collections of pearls were brought to this country. One of these
consisted of 45 drilled pearls weighing in all 672⅛ grains and entered
at $60,734; the other, of 39 pearls, having an aggregate weight of 678¾
grains and entered at $63,070. At first a duty of 20 per cent. ad
valorem was imposed upon these pearls under Section 6 of the Tariff Act,
treating them as “unenumerated articles partly manufactured,” according
to the rule that had been followed since the enactment of the present
tariff. This was protested, and the case was brought before the Board of
Appraisers.[407] Subsequent to the protest, however, the collector
reliquidated the entry of the 45 pearls and imposed upon them a duty of
60 per cent. ad valorem, as pearls set or strung. This was done in view
of Judge Lacombe’s decision in another notable case which had been taken
shortly before to the Circuit Court of Appeals.[408] This decision was
to the effect that pearls in any form not especially covered by
paragraphs 434 or 436 of the Tariff Act should be referred to one or the
other of those paragraphs, by similitude, according to the provisions of
Section 7 of the Act.

The testimony taken before the Board of Appraisers revealed the fact
that each of the collections of pearls had been inclosed in a handsome
silk-lined morocco case, with a groove running through the center; in
this groove the pearls were laid, the largest one in the middle and the
others disposed on either side, graduated according to their size; the
row or series having the effect of a necklace, although the pearls were
unstrung. The importer testified that this arrangement was only made in
order to enable him to judge of the size and quality of the pearls, and
evidence was given showing that it was necessary to rebore some of them
and to ream out the holes before any use could be made of the pearls in
jewelry. Nevertheless, the appraisers adhered to their opinion that
these gems had been selected especially to form a necklace, and that the
time and labor requisite for the assembling of a carefully matched and
graduated series of pearls suitable for a necklace constituted the main
factor in its production, since the cost of stringing it was trifling;
they, therefore, considered that such a series of pearls was dutiable,
by similitude, under paragraph 434 of the Tariff Act as jewelry. An
application was made to the Circuit Court of the Southern District of
New York for a review of the appraisers’ ruling,[409] the judge decided
against the petitioner,[410] and an appeal was then taken from his
decision. On December 12, 1904, the Circuit Court of Appeals decided
that the pearls were dutiable, by similitude, at 10 per cent. ad
valorem, under Section 7, paragraph 436, and the excess of duty
collected was refunded.

Another case has to do with a collection of 37 pearls, entered at
$220,000, brought to New York in January, 1906. Duty to the amount of
$22,000 (10 per cent. ad valorem) was paid by the importer, but the
entry was liquidated at 60 per cent. and $110,000 additional duty
demanded. This was paid and a protest was made to the Board of General
Appraisers, who decided in favor of the petitioner. The Government
appealed and the case[411] was tried in the United States Circuit Court
on February 24 of this year (1908). It was shown that the pearls had
been worn several times in Paris as a necklace, but the defense held
that, as they were loose when imported and were not worth more
collectively than separately, this was not material. The judge decided
for the Government and an appeal has been taken in June, 1908.

The proper classification of half-pearls has also been a matter of
controversy. This question was brought before the Board of General
Appraisers in New York on a protest[412] entered in 1897 against the
imposition of a duty of 20 per cent. on several lots of so-called
half-pearls imported during that year. This duty was imposed under
Section 6 of the Tariff Act, providing for a duty of 20 per cent. on
“unenumerated partly manufactured articles.” The petitioner claimed that
half-pearls were dutiable at 10 per cent. ad valorem, “either directly
or by similitude or component of chief value, under paragraph 436, or as
precious stones, under paragraph 435 of the Tariff Act.” After hearing
the testimony of a number of competent and reliable experts connected
with some of the leading houses dealing in precious stones and pearls,
the appraisers decided that the evidence showed that pearls, being the
product of animal secretion, could not properly be denominated stones,
and that they were not in fact so designated commercially. At the same
time, half-pearls could not be looked upon as “pearls in their natural
state,” since time and labor had been expended in their production; it
was, therefore, evident that paragraph 436 did not apply to them. For
this reason the original ruling was reaffirmed.

In 1902 a duty of 60 per cent. was levied on an assorted lot of
half-pearls under a new ruling which brought them by similitude under
the provisions of paragraph 434 of the Tariff Act, providing a duty of
60 per cent. on “jewelry … including … pearls set or strung.” A
protest was entered against this ruling also.[413] In the meanwhile
Judge Lacombe had given the opinion to which we have alluded above, and
the Board of Appraisers upheld the duty of 60 per cent., basing their
decision upon the fact that the material of half-pearls was similar to
that of pearls in their natural state or of pearls set or strung, thus
satisfying the requirements as to similitude of Section 7 of the Tariff
Act. The same section provides that, in case two or more rates of duty
shall be applicable to any imported article, it shall pay duty at the
highest rate, and therefore the 60–per cent. rate applying to pearls set
or strung was imposed, instead of the 10–per cent. rate on pearls in
their natural state. In both of these cases an application for a review
was made to the United States Circuit Court.[414]

DUTIES ON PEARLS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES, MARCH, 1908

Amount in
money of the U. S.
Basis. country. currency.

Great Britain Free

British India Free

Australia Free

New Zealand Free

Canada, precious stones (pearls),
polished but not set, pierced, or
otherwise manufactured ad val. 10%

Austro-Hungary, unset 100
kilogr. 60 kr. $24.00

Belgium, unenumerated.

Bulgaria, precious stones (pearls) in
the natural state, polished, cut, or 75 lev
engraved, but not mounted kilogr. (francs) 14.25

Denmark, unenumerated.

France Free

Germany, wrought (smoothed, polished, 100
perforated), unset kilogr. 60 marks 14.40

Unset, but strung on textile threads
or tape for the purpose of packing 100
and transportation kilogr. 100 marks 24.00

Greece Free

Holland, unenumerated.

Italy, precious stones (pearls)
wrought hectogr. 14 lire 2.66

Montenegro, precious stones (pearls) {min. 10%
ad val. {max. 15%

Norway, precious stones (pearls) {min. 2^{50}
kilogr. krone .66

{max. 3
„ .80

Portugal, unenumerated.

Portuguese S. E. Africa (Quilimane,
Chinde and Zambesia) Export Duty ad val. 6%

Portuguese India, real pearls or
seed-pearls ad val. ½%

Rumania kilogr. 20 lei 3.80

Russia, loose or threaded funt 10 rubles 5.00

Finland Free

Servia, threaded for facilitating
their preservation or sale kilogr. 50 dinars 9.50

Threaded for special uses kilogr. 70 dinars 15.30

Spain, loose or mounted hectogr. 25 pesetas 4.75

Sweden, not set Free

Switzerland, not mounted 100
kilogr. 50 francs 9.75

Turkey, unset 3 piasters
gramme (gold)

Egypt (on all imports) ad val. 8%

China (on all unenumerated imports) ad val. 5%

Japan ad val. 60%

Persia, Export Duty ad val. 5%

Import Duty, precious stones, rough
or cut, including fine pearls ad val. 25%

Morocco (on all imports) ad val. 2½%

Guatemala, unenumerated.

Salvador, precious stones (pearls) 10 pesos,
unmounted kilogr. nom. val. 9.60

Nicaragua, precious stones (pearls) 100 pesos,
kilogr. „ „ 96.00

Honduras 5 pesos,
½ kilogr. „ „ 4.80

Costa Rica, unset 100 colones,
kilogr. „ „ 96.00

Panama ad val. 15%

Mexico, unset 100 pesos,
kilogr. „ „ 96.00

United States, not strung, not set ad val. 10%

Strung, set, or not, and split
pearls sorted as to either size,
quality, or shape ad val. 60%

Philippine, unset ad val. 15%

Argentine Republic, precious stones
(pearls) ad val. 5%

Bolivia appraisal 3%

Brazil (natural) ad val. 2%

Chili ad val. 5%

Colombia, precious stones (pearls) set
in jewelry ad val. 10%

Ecuador, precious stones (pearls), set 50 sucres,
or not set kilogr. nom. val. 48.00

Paraguay, unset ad val. 2%

Peru, unset appraisal 3%

Uruguay 13% on eval
gramme of 1 peso .12

Venezuela kilogr. 10 bolivars 1.90

Cuba, not set hectogr. $7.50

surtax of 25%

Dominican Republic 6 pesos,
ounce nom. val. 5.76

The only changes from the customs lists as they existed in the tariffs
of 1896 are as follows:

1896 1908
Portugal 3% ad val. unenumerated
Mexico 50 pesos per carat 100 pesos per kilogram
Nicaragua 5 pesos per libra 100 pesos per kilogram
Haiti 20% ad val. unenumerated
San Domingo 3.60 pesos per ounce 6 pesos per ounce
Argentina 36 pesos per gram precious stones 5% ad val.
Austro-Hungary 24 florins per 100 kilogr. 60 kroner per 100 kilogr.

In the Parliament of 1727–1732, the duty on pearls and precious stones
was abolished in England. We give facsimiles of the title-page and last
leaf of the report of this enactment.

The total value of diamonds and precious stones imported into the United
States during the period from 1867 to 1906 inclusive, was as follows:

Glaziers’ (except 1873–83) $2,215,972

Dust 6,407,599

Rough or uncut (included with diamonds and other stones,
1891–96) 74,045,291

Set (not specified before 1897) 36,170

Unset (not specified before 1897) 124,615,662

Diamonds and other stones, not set 207,138,629

Set in gold or other metal 17,799

Pearls (from 1903) 7,809,261

————————————

Total $422,286,383

CLASSIFIED STATEMENT OF THE IMPORTS OF PEARLS INTO THE UNITED STATES
FROM 1891 TO 1907 INCLUSIVE

Pearls Pearls, Pearls in Pearls split
including pearls natural state, etc.
strung but not not strung or
set set

Year 10% 10% 10% 20%

1891 $11,711

1892 32,023

1893 6,926

1894 12,978

1895 $283,018

1896 583,214

1897 392,867

1898 $491,060 $205,998

1899 1,412,952 389,899

1900 1,163,382 432,528

1901 929,247 1,173,339

1902 1,896,322 1,314,368

1903 2,835,936 7,220

1904 1,680,615 2,908

1905 1,626,476

1906 2,072,561 218

1907 1,593,498

——————— —————————— ——————————— ——————————

$63,638 $1,259,099 $15,702,049 $3,526,478

NOTE. Previous to 1891 pearls were classified with “jewelry and
precious stones,” and it was not until 1895 that most of them were
reported separately.

There are several things that are essential in pearl buying, and one of
the most important of these is that the light in which the pearls are
selected shall be absolutely pure daylight, with no reflections from the
side or from above that can enhance or detract from the color of the
pearl. This must be carefully considered, as it is not uncommon—more
especially in certain parts of Europe—that jewelers have for their
selling-offices rooms sumptuously fitted up with hangings of different
colors, and sometimes with ground glass windows, provided with heavy
silk hangings, so that artificial light becomes a necessity to make the
article sold plainly visible. In absolutely pure daylight, more
especially with an unclouded sky—on such days as are probably more
frequent in the United States than in some of the European countries—it
is possible to see the exact tint or color of the pearls; that is,
whether it is really a pure white with a tinge of pink or an orient
tending to cream-white, or whether it is more or less tinted with what
is considered a crude or red color in a pearl. Besides this, in a pure
light it is possible to see whether the pearl is brilliant, and to
estimate the exact degree of its brilliancy; whether there are any
cracks, scratches, or mars on the surface; and, lastly, whether the form
is entirely regular. If one should select two necklaces, one absolutely
perfect and the other having slight blemishes as to color or brilliancy,
or with breaks, marks, or irregularities, these two necklaces would be
scarcely distinguishable from each other in artificial light, or in
daylight which had been partly confused with artificial light; although
the differences between the two would signify that the former was worth
two or three times as much as the latter.

At great receptions, large, and apparently magnificent pearls are
frequently seen, which are really of inferior quality, and yet, owing to
the absence of pure daylight, they can easily be mistaken for perfect
specimens by any one not especially familiar with pearls. Indeed, if the
royalties of Europe should wear all the pearls belonging to the crown
jewels at the same time, in a palace or hall lighted with candles, gas,
or even with some types of electric light, they would frequently seem to
have a quality which many of them do not and never did possess. It is,
therefore, essential for the buyer to use every precaution in reference
to the light in which he examines his purchase. And we may add that it
is just as essential that he should know the dealer from whom he buys;
for, sometimes, after a few weeks or months, cracks or blemishes develop
that were not apparent at first, more especially when the pearls have
been “improved” for a prospective purchaser.

A test to ascertain the quality of pearls is quaintly expressed in a
work published in 1778, as follows:

How to know good pearls. To discover the hidden Defects and Faults
of a Pearl and to know whether she is speckled or broken or has any
other imperfections, the best way is to make trial of it by the
Reverberation of the Sun-beams; for by this means your eye will
penetrate into the very Centre of the Pearl and discover the least
defect it has; you will then see whether it be pure, or has any
spots or not, and consequently you may the better guess its
value.[415]

If you can cause a ray of sunlight or of electric light to fall on a
pearl, the light will penetrate it and show any specks, inclosed
blemishes or impurities. This can probably best be done by wrapping
about the pearl a dark cloth of velvet or other material and having the
ray fall slantingly, whereby the defects are much more clearly shown
than if the ray be allowed to fall directly upon the gem.

A pearl necklace valued at $200,000, shown at one of our recent great
expositions, was to all appearances a remarkably beautiful collection,
and it was only when the intending purchaser took them from their velvet
bed and held them in his hands that he realized that there was not a
perfect pearl in the entire collection. It must have taken more than a
week of study for the clever dealer to arrange them so that the best
part, sometimes the only good part of each pearl, should be where the
eye would fall upon it. After they had been turned in the hands a few
seconds, not one perfect specimen was visible.

The demand for pearls has been so great, and the enhancement of value so
rapid, that the greatest ingenuity has been employed in presenting the
best part of the gems to view, as well as in many other ways. The result
is that when pearls are to be used as borders or as a gallery on a comb
or brooch, they are pierced in such a way that only the best side shall
be outward, so that the general effect produced is that of a perfect row
of pearls; but a careful examination may show that two thirds or three
fourths of them are irregular, and bear abrasion marks, indentations, or
other imperfections.

Following the analogy of the well-known precious stones—the diamond, the
ruby, the sapphire, the emerald and those of less importance—the pearl
is equally potent in creating great and permanent values for itself in
catering to the human love of adornment; and though these large values
may be greatly in excess of the original price that it commanded in the
native oriental market, yet the increased valuation gives profitable
livelihood to hundreds of thousands of persons. These embrace the
dealers who sell the original pearls in lots, those who clean and treat
them, others who drill and string them, and others again who handle them
in setting jewelry of all kinds, and also the large number of dealers
throughout the entire world who sell either the jewelry or the unmounted
pearls. Directly connected with the industry in localities where the
fisheries are pursued are a sufficient number of persons to populate a
city the size of Boston, and to these we may safely add an equal number
as herein noted, aggregating about 1,000,000 people whose livelihood is
directly dependent upon the production and traffic of the pearl
industry, and who for lack of it would be forced to seek some other
employment. Brought thus to a concrete form, one may readily grasp the
important bearing which the pearl has in a comprehensive estimate of the
complexity of the world’s civilization as we know it to-day.

 


XIV

TREATMENT AND CARE OF PEARLS

 


XIV
TREATMENT AND CARE OF PEARLS


The pearl is at the height of its perfection when taken from the shell;
from that moment it never improves. When it is drawn from the depths of
the ocean by the hand of man and given to the charmed gaze of the world,
it is as complete and perfect in its way as the most beautiful work of
art, and, whether as tiny as the point of a pin or as large as a marble,
it is always a perfect, fully formed individual; it is always in its
maturity.

Who found the first pearl? When did he discover it, and what were his
emotions? Was it found by primitive man? Very likely it was discovered
by chance in a mother-of-pearl shell cast up by the sea, or perhaps in a
mussel in a brook. If this happened in an oriental country, the native
must have already seen many equally remarkable objects, endowed with
life, while the pearl could charm him only by its luster and purity.
But, besides the impression produced by its beauty, it must have aroused
in the soul of the discoverer the sensation of wonder which every new
and lovely object excites when seen for the first time. That primitive
man appreciated the pearl is evidenced by the fact that it is found in
the mounds and graves of the American continent, from the State of Ohio
to Peru in South America.

Almost all pearls are in perfect condition for setting when they are
found; all that needs to be done is to rub them with a damp or moist
cloth or with a powder of finely pulverized small or broken pearls, and
they are then ready for the succeeding processes. If there are any
blemishes, these can be removed by peeling or “faking,” although few
fine pearls require any such treatment; and then the gems may be
drilled, strung, and set, and all that is necessary for their
preservation is due care and attention.

Pearls are frequently injured in opening the shells or in removal of the
outer layers around the true pearly nacre. Both the Chinese and the Sulu
fishermen are very clever in the art of pearl peeling and pearl
improving. This method is called “faking,” although it is a perfectly
legitimate operation. All it requires is a very sharp knife, a set of
files, and a powder obtained by grinding pearls or pearl shells. This
powder is placed upon a buffer of leather or cloth to polish such parts
of a layer as may not have been entirely removed. The Chinese are
unusual adepts in pearl peeling and have been frequently known to sell
as true pearls scales that they have removed, after filling these scales
or peelings with wax or shellac, and strengthening them by cementing
them on a piece of mother-of-pearl. They are then set with the convex
side up and the edges carefully covered so as to conceal the deception.
The Chinese are also very expert in removing layers of mother-of-pearl
from an encysted or buried pearl, taking off layer after layer with the
greatest care, and with a delicacy of touch that enables them to realize
the moment when the pearl itself has been reached, rarely injuring the
latter, although the coating is almost as hard as the inclosed pearl.

Peeling is employed to remove a protuberance or acid stain, to smooth a
surface broken by abrasion, or to take off a dead spot produced by
careless wearing of the pearls and allowing them to rub against one
another. There are many instances where, by careful peeling, a perfect
layer and skin have been brought to light, and where irregular or broken
pearls, or those with a blemish, have been rendered much more valuable
by a good peeler. But in many other cases the pearl has not only been
reduced in value, but even rendered altogether worthless, when it had a
dead center or was pitted with clay or other impurities.

If a pearl has been injured by coming in contact with the acids
frequently used in medicine, the surface may become roughened; or it may
be scratched by being rubbed against a stone in case of a fall or other
accident. If the surface only is injured, it can be restored to its
original beauty with only a slight loss of weight by carefully peeling
off the outer layers.

In skinning or peeling a pearl, a magnifying glass, or preferably a
fixed lens, such as is used by engravers, is of great assistance, and a
sharp knife, or, better still, the sharpened edge of a steel file, is a
very essential instrument. Gloves are often worn by the peeler so that
no perspiration shall reach the pearl and cause it to slip in the hand
while it is being manipulated, and thus have a layer or more injured by
the knife.

PEARL DRILLING

Streeter mentions a very interesting incident in regard to a genuine
black pearl. This pearl, set with diamonds, was shown in a jeweler’s
window; but after exposure in this way for some time to the sun’s rays,
the brilliant black luster disappeared and gave place to a dull, grayish
hue. When the pearl was removed from its setting, it was seen that the
part which had not been exposed to the light was of as good color as
when first removed from the shell. It was finally determined to skin off
the outer layer, an operation which was performed with so much success
that the original brilliant black hue was fully restored, proving that
the action of the sunlight had only changed the color of the surface. We
may add that the pearl, although it was shown in the sun, may never have
had a good “skin” or layer exposed; or the layer which was not perfect
may have been affected by an exudation of the wearer produced by illness
or medicine.

When pearls are of a poor yellow or dull brown tint, unscrupulous
dealers sometimes intrust them to an operator who drills them almost
entirely through, cracks the skin slightly and impregnates them with a
solution of nitrate of silver; this affects the outer layers of the
pearls, and, after its decomposition, the metallic silver is deposited,
and they become absolutely black. The effect is sometimes hastened by
exposing them to the fumes of nitrate of silver. These pearls are then
rubbed up or slightly polished and may retain a good appearance for a
number of years. The upper layers, however, which have been injured by
the chemicals used in the coloring, often scale off, and the poor and
unattractive color beneath appears. This is sometimes not detected until
years after and when the dealer from whom they were purchased has been
forgotten. The breaks or cracks which have been made can readily be
detected by means of a pocket lens, if the observer is at all
experienced. In many cases the outer layer of the pearl has been colored
a good black, although scarcely any crack is visible.

Frequently, when a small knob or protuberance appears in the pearl, or
when it has adhered to another pearl or to the shell itself, this
protuberance is polished off, and the pearl is drilled at this point.
This portion of the surface, however carefully polished, will never have
the true orient, but it is placed in the necklace in such a way that it
is completely hidden. Often pearls become scratched through rough usage,
or by the knife used in opening the shells. These are occasionally
polished by means of pearl-powder, or else the entire outer layer is
removed, the new skin beneath appearing absolutely bright and perfect.
It sometimes happens that a pearl will have a good luster, but a
slightly roughened skin. This is at times polished down; but an
experienced eye easily detects that it has been tampered with. Yellowish
pearls are sometimes bleached by means of strong bleaching substances
such as chlorine or other powerful reagents, which, although they may
whiten the pearl, cause it to become very friable, as the animal
substance becomes more brittle. Pearls treated in this way frequently
wear off, layer by layer, until fully one half of the pearl is worn out
of the setting. When pearls are stained yellowish from the exudations of
the skin, grease, or other impurities, they can be cleaned by putting
them in moist caustic magnesia and allowing it to dry on them. When this
is removed, the pearls will often be found much purer in color than
before.

In various parts of the world certain dubious methods have been used for
restoring the beauty of pearls which have grown dim. In India they are
rubbed in boiled rice. Some persons have even fed them to a chicken
fastened in a coop; after the lapse of an hour or two the chicken is
killed, and the pearls rescued from their temporary lodging-place, where
they have been somewhat restored by the digestive juices of the fowl.

Some curious tests applied to pearls are given us in a Hindu treatise on
gems by Buddhabhatta. For instance, we read: “If the purchaser conceives
a doubt as to the genuineness of a pearl, let him place it during one
night in a mixture of water and oil with salt, and heat it. Or let him
wrap it in a dry cloth and rub it with grains of rice; if it do not
become discolored, it should be regarded as genuine.”[416] It is
needless to state that these tests would be either useless or injurious.

If the reader is the owner of a pearl or of a pearl necklace and feels
that the pearls need treatment, any attempt to follow the directions
given by many ancient writers would infallibly result in their injury or
destruction.

Pearl drilling is a most delicate operation. It is necessary that the
drill points should have the proper shape,—that is, should not be too
tapering, but slightly blunt at the end, and turning somewhat in a
V-shape,—it is also important that the drill should be revolved with
perfect regularity, so as not to jar or jolt the pearl, as this is
likely to lead to the cracking of the pearl or to the breaking of the
drill. This latter happens not infrequently, and is due either to the
structure of the pearl, the clogging of the drill, or to encountering a
hard grain of sand inclosed in the pearl. Should the drill break in the
pearl, it can best be removed by drilling from a point directly
opposite, and slowly forcing the broken drill outward. This process
requires great care in the regulation of the speed, and great exactness
of direction in order to meet the broken drill accurately.

Pearl drilling was formerly a laborious process, and it was scarcely
possible for a driller to perforate more than from forty to fifty pearls
per day by means of the bow-drill operated by hand. Now, by the use of a
modern machine, 1500 pearls of average size can be drilled without any
difficulty in the same time.

Some of the most successful drilling of fine pearls is done by means of
the bow- or fiddle-drill. The arm of this is made either of steel or of
wood, with a strong cord stretched across it in the style of an archer’s
bow. The drill is inserted in the end of a brass circular disk with a
V-shaped groove on its edge, to admit of the string being passed
entirely around it like a pulley, so that when the drill is placed on
anything and held at the other side, and the bow is moved up and down,
the wheel with the drill-end rotates rapidly.

If the pearl is not properly secured, if the drill point is too
irregular, if it is not properly centered, or if it is too rapidly
rotated at the start, one or more layers of the pearl are likely to be
broken, giving an irregular, ragged appearance. If, again, the drill is
rotated too rapidly as it is leaving the other side of the pearl, one or
more layers are occasionally forced off, and this in turn will produce a
break on the pearl. It happens not infrequently that pearls are broken
away on the surfaces at both drill holes if the workman is careless.

As pearls have become more valuable, only the most efficient workmen are
employed in drilling them. Whereas formerly a drill hole would be half a
millimeter in diameter, at present it is much smaller, and such drilling
requires the greatest skill in manipulation. The use of these very fine
drill holes is due principally to the fact that pearls have become so
valuable that the slightest loss, even the fraction of a grain, would
amount to a considerable sum in a necklace of large pearls.

When a pearl has been perforated with a very fine drill hole, the hole
may be enlarged somewhat by using a slender copper wire, the fineness of
the drill hole itself, charged with either diamond-dust, emery, or sand.
When the wire thus charged is drawn in and out, the drill hole can be
enlarged to any desired size.

A large pearl is held in the hand or secured in a wooden block, or else
it is held in a small pair of forceps with a rounded, cup-shaped
receptacle at the end, which is usually lined with chamois leather and
is pierced with a hole through the center. This hole serves as a guide
for the drill, directing it while the pearl is being perforated.
Adjustable cups or forceps with cup-like ends of every size are
necessary, according to the size of the pearl; and in order that it may
be properly seen, it is requisite that the pearl should always be larger
than the cup in which it is placed.

The poorest part or spot is selected to form the beginning of the drill
hole. The pearl is placed in a pair of calipers with a circular disk,
one end of the caliper being placed on the spot to be pierced, the other
end naturally touching exactly opposite, the pearl absolutely centering
it. As these caliper ends have been rubbed with either rouge, lampblack,
or some colored substance that will readily rub off, these two spots of
color remain on the pearl and serve as a guide for the driller. The
drill end is then placed on the pearl, and the bow moved up and down;
and so rapid is this work that five pearls weighing fifteen grains each
can be drilled with the greatest care in less than one hour’s time. Of
small pearls, weighing about one grain, as many as fifty have been
drilled in less than one hour by the hand-drill method.

Many of the thinnest and best drills are made out of thin steel needles.
These are ground flat by means of a small carborundum wheel, so as to
have two flat sides. They are then thin pointed, and with a V-shaped
edge. These prevent the drill from clogging up, allowing the fine dust
to pass upward and outward readily, and the hard steel almost invariably
penetrates the central core of the pearl, no matter how hard or tough
this may be. The needle-drill is then secured in a small chuck attached
to the brass revolving wheel. Some recommend lubricating a drill with
milk when it is employed for piercing a pearl, but a well-made drill,
that allows the dust to escape as it is formed, does not require this
treatment. The drill should always be made to revolve quite slowly so
that no unnecessary heat may be generated by friction to injure the
color of the pearl and also to avoid the possibility of the drill
becoming clogged by the pearl-dust.

By means of centering calipers or markers, the driller, especially in
the drilling of a large pearl, will generally drill first from one end,
and then reverse the pearl and drill from the other end, meeting
absolutely in the center. This prevents the breaking of the outer layer
of the pearl. A skilful workman can, by turning the pearl, so operate
the calipers that the true center can be obtained, even if the pearl is
not absolutely round, and the drill holes so centered that the
irregularity of the pearl is less apparent.

When the pearl has been half drilled through from one side, considerable
caution is necessary in drilling from the other, that when the two drill
holes are about meeting the drill be not revolved too rapidly, as the
clogging is likely to crack the pearl or break the drill. If the pearl
is only to be drilled one fourth or one half through, the depth can
always be gaged by watching the drill-end, first, by measuring the
drill-end itself, and, secondly, by noting to what part of it
pearl-powder adheres.

Pearls are more easily manipulated than any other gems. They are also
more easily damaged. Still, when properly treated by the workman, there
is no material that offers him more satisfactory results than the pearl,
if good judgment be used.

Drillers occasionally find that when the drill reaches the center of the
pearl, there is a sharp click, the pearl often breaking at this point.
This is evidently due to the fact that a harder kernel may exist in the
center, such as a tiny grain of sand, which can turn the drill point; or
else the resistance may cause the tiny drill to break.

When a pearl is cracked by a blow or by some accident, it is customary
to drill it at the end of the largest crack; this method prevents the
crack from extending in that direction. These fissures are sometimes
partly filled by means of a solution, and may not be visible at the time
when the pearl is bought, but they are liable to appear later.

To illustrate the difference in the care used in drilling, we have
selected eight pearls from a paper of poor ones, and reproduce two views
of them, one to show the irregularity of the pearls, and the other to
show the varying size of the drill holes. Those on the left were drilled
by an artist, while those on the right show the work of an inexperienced
driller.

At present pendant pearls are never drilled entirely through, and rarely
more than half way. But in the Orient, and even in Europe from the
fourteenth to the sixteenth century, they were often entirely pierced;
even pear-shaped pearls were entirely drilled through, with a metal edge
projected below for safety. Frequently old pearls, and more especially
oriental pearls, have been entirely drilled through, as are often large
oriental rubies, diamonds, and sapphires. When these are set, the holes
are either plugged with pearl shell and polished smooth, or a tiny ruby
or diamond is set in a metal rim fitting entirely into the drill hole or
only slightly projecting. This is well instanced in the portrait of
Marguerite of France (1553–1615), in which the artist Delpech shows all
the pear-shaped pearls worn by the French queen entirely pierced.

Frequently, where pearls have been drilled by oriental workmen, the
drill holes are exceedingly large, five or six times the width of the
silk string; in fact often from one to two millimeters in diameter. In
the search to supply the great demand, many oriental pearls have been
secured which formerly were strung to an oriental jewel by means of a
thick wire; it is necessary to close this aperture, as the pearl would
lie unevenly on the string. This is done by introducing a
mother-of-pearl plug, through which a new drill hole is made. Unless the
pearls are unstrung, this is rarely visible; but not infrequently the
plug drops out. In other cases the pearl has been drilled not only from
end to end, but also from the side, and this third hole is filled with a
plug of mother-of-pearl and polished over so as to hide the blemish from
the buyer. It is also no uncommon thing for a purchaser to find, after a
year, that cracks begin to develop where none apparently existed at the
time of his purchase, or they were so minute as to be considered of no
consequence.

One of the earliest references to drilling pearls was made by Rugerus, a
monk who lived in the eleventh century. He says:

Pearls are found in the sea-shell and shells of other waters; these
are perforated with a fine steeled instrument which is fixed in
wood, having a small wheel of lead, also another wood in which it
may be turned, to which a strap must be placed by which it may be
revolved. But should it be necessary that the aperture of any pearl
be made larger, a wire may be placed in the opening with a little
fine sand, one end of which may be held in the teeth, the other in
the left hand, and by the right the pearl is conducted upwards and
downwards, and in the meantime sand is applied, that the apertures
may become wider. Sea-shells are also cut into pieces and are filed
as pearls, sufficiently useful upon gold, and they are polished as
above.[417]

In “The Toy Cart,” a Hindu drama by Sudrake, who lived about the
beginning of the Christian era, there is a description of a jeweler’s
workshop attached to the house of a courtezan. He says: “Some set rubies
in gold, some string gold beads on colored thread, some string pearls,
some grind lapis lazuli, some cut shells and some grind and pierce
coral.”[418]

The Chinese and Korean method of drilling pearls differs materially from
that of the Occident. A pear-shaped pearl is frequently drilled
horizontally and secured by wire or silk, and not drilled
perpendicularly, as with us, to have a metal wire or peg fastened into
it. If the orientals drill a pearl perpendicularly, the hole is
generally carried entirely through it, and a gold knot, which is used as
a bead, is placed at the lower end, and sometimes a tiny gem is set in
this peg, or else the pearl is secured either by some projection below,
or by means of a bit of enamel, or some other object may be attached to
the gold or wire below it. Button pearls, especially those of the
abalone, are drilled horizontally through the base and secured to the
ornament, or to the silk or other material on which they are sewed, by
means of a thread or wire; or else they may be drilled from below by
means of two sloping holes forming a V, the thread or wire being passed
upward until it strikes the angle, and then passed outward again through
the other branch of the hole. Many fine, round, and pear-shaped pearls
of oriental origin may be seen with this end closed either with a speck
of pearl, a diamond, or a ruby.

A most interesting and careful description of the methods of drilling
pearls was given by James Cordiner in his valuable volume, “A
Description of Ceylon,” published in London in 1807, pages 64–66.

PEARL STRINGING

The next operation which claims attention is the drilling of the
pearls. I neglected to inspect this part of the business; but have
been informed that much admiration is excited, both by the dexterity
of the artist, and the rude simplicity of the machinery which he
employs. A block of wood, of the form of an inverted cone, is raised
upon three feet about twelve inches from the ground. Small holes or
pits of various sizes are cut in the upper flat surface, for the
reception of the pearls. The driller sits on his haunches close to
this machine, which is called a vadeagrum. The pearls are driven
steady into their sockets by a piece of iron with flat sides, about
one inch and a half in length. A well tempered needle is fixed in a
reed five inches long, with an iron point at the other end, formed
to play in the socket of a cocoanut shell, which presses on the
forehead of the driller. A bow is formed of a piece of bamboo and a
string. The workman brings his right knee in a line with the
vadeagrum, and places on it a small cup, formed of part of a
cocoanut shell, which is filled with water to moderate the heat of
friction. He bends his head over the machine, and applying the point
of the needle to a pearl sunk in one of the pits, drills with great
facility, every now and then dexterously dipping the little finger
of his right hand in the water, and applying it to the needle,
without impeding the operation. In this manner he bores a pearl in
the space of two or three minutes; and in the course of a day
perforates three hundred small or six hundred large pearls. The
needle is frequently sharpened with oil on a stone slab, and
sometimes, before the operation is performed, is heated in the flame
of a lamp.

The large pearls are generally drilled first, in order to bring the
hand in to work with more ease on those of a smaller size; and
pearls less than a grain of mustard-seed are pierced with little
difficulty.

After the pearls have been drilled, they must be immediately washed
in salt and water, to prevent the stains which would otherwise be
occasioned by the perforating instrument.

A quaint description of pearl drilling was given by Anselmus de Boot in
1609.[419]

Since all are not aware of the manner in which pearls are
perforated, I wish here to give an account of the method. The
handle. A, is held with the left hand, and then the handle, B, of
the bow is pushed back and forth with the right hand, so that there
is a reciprocal movement of the lance AC. The extreme end, C, has a
needle, not so sharp as to come to a point, but slightly blunted.
The needle is placed on the pearl which is to be perforated. If the
pearls are too small to be held, they are fastened in the case, D,
with a small hammer of soft wood, lest they should slip. The board
is inclosed on every side by strips of wood so that the water which
comes from the pearls shall not flow off. The bow being moved, the
needle penetrates and pierces the pearl and it is not corroded by
the water.

A mythical story, but a pleasant one, is told of a great pearl collector
who had owned a wonderful pear-shaped pearl for many years and had
absolutely failed to find any match for it. After years of fruitless
search he was at last rewarded by finding an absolutely perfect mate. He
took this to his favorite jeweler in one of the great capitals of
Europe, and ordered the new gem to be pierced to match the other so that
both could be set. The jeweler called a small German boy from an
adjoining workshop, simply saying, “Jakey, drill this pearl to match the
other.” The collector was dumfounded that no caution should be given to
the boy when so important a piece of work was intrusted to his care.
Scarcely had the boy left the room when the collector inquired of the
jeweler, almost in consternation, “How can you trust so valuable a pearl
to so small a boy without a word of caution?” To this the dealer
replied: “Jakey is the most careful pearl driller I have ever known. I
know that there will be no failure in the drilling. I have never
cautioned him about such work. He never has drilled a pearl wrong. Had I
warned him of the value of the gem or told him how important a piece of
work he was doing, he probably would have become nervous and, as a
result, your pearl would have been cracked.” The conversation had
scarcely been completed before Jakey returned with the pearl as
beautifully drilled as the original one which it matched.

In the Orient and elsewhere, when it is considered desirable to mount a
pearl so that it shall not turn, especially when only one part of the
pearl is perfect and that is to remain outside, the drill hole is
sometimes made square, that is to say, drilled round and then reamed out
with a small saw until it becomes square, when a square wire is
inserted; or else the pearl is first drilled with a tiny round hole and
this is then reamed out until it is triangular, when a triangular wire
is introduced. This method is sometimes used for studs or ring-settings.

In setting pearls with points or claws on the wire or band of a ring,
the pearls are drilled only half way through. A gold pin is then
inserted, and sometimes a thread is cut into the pearl itself; it is
secured by means of gum mastic or some other strong gum. Occasionally,
to add greater strength, a side pin is put in, so that the pearl is
drilled with two bits of metal, which penetrate the one side in a
perfectly straight line and the other at an angle of about twenty-five
or thirty degrees (this is called side-pegging). This gives more
strength and firmness to the pearl itself, and prevents it from twisting
or twining and becoming loose. Sometimes the pearl hole is drilled so
that the opening is that of a screw-thread, in order to hold it to the
earring, the stud, or the ring. The gold pin which is inserted to attach
the pearl to the ring or stud has a screw-thread also, and the peg or
pin is screwed on as well as secured.

An ingenious method, termed “keying,” for securing the peg in pearls to
be set on rings or studs, consists in drilling a hole half through the
pearl and then two smaller holes or grooves on each side of the first.
Cutting tools of a T-shape are now introduced into the aperture and
worked about until the pearl is undercut all around, so that when a peg
with a cross-piece is inserted, the latter can be turned within the
pearl until it sets at right angles with the widest part of the
aperture. In this way the peg is permanently secured and cannot slip
out.

The fact that in recent years more pearls have appeared in necklaces
that are irregularly bored, that the bore holes are so large that they
are plugged with mother-of-pearl, or that one meets with pearls in which
a plug has been placed in the side immediately in the center between the
two drill holes, is due to the fact that the great demand has resulted
in the destruction of many oriental ornaments in which the pearls were
drilled in various ways, as well as in the destruction of the different
Magyar and other semi-official jewels of eastern Europe.

The most primitive known drills were the flint drills, made by the North
American Indians by chipping chert or flint-like minerals to a fine
point. With these rude instruments a large, irregular hole was made,
which generally measured several times the diameter of the fine drill
hole made by a modern pearl driller with an improved drill. The Indians
are also said to have used hot copper drills for boring holes.

The earliest, and still a very general and perhaps the best way of
drilling pearls, is by means of the bow- or fiddle-drill. This method
has been used in a more or less perfected form by all the aboriginal
peoples of the New World from Iceland to Tierra del Fuego. But as none
of these peoples were familiar with fine, hard steel, they scarcely ever
succeeded in making drill holes as fine as those that can be produced by
the use of tempered steel. By the latter means, pearls half an inch in
diameter are often drilled entirely through with an aperture no larger
than a thin bit of straw.

The largest and finest pearls are frequently drilled with the smallest
holes, as the slightest loss in weight means a diminution in value.
Then, too, a pearl with a small drill hole is not so liable to shift on
the string, and thus is less likely to cut the silk thread which holds
the pearls together.

It would be difficult to enumerate all the tricks to which some jewelers
now resort in order to utilize every fragment of a pearl they can lay
their hands on. Some of them are wonderfully clever at reconstruction,
but to the woman who loves pearls, nothing can take the place of the
soft, beautiful, round gem, with its natural surface.

In sorting pearls for the smaller necklaces, it is customary to open up
a number of dozen bunches of the East Indian pearls as they are sent
from the East, strung, the ends fastened together in bunches, and then
sealed. These pearls are placed on a table and are first arranged
according to color and luster on the sorting board. They are then
grouped according to size and graduation, the greatest care being
exercised in the selection for color, luster, and form. In this way ten
necklaces may be re-strung into ten others, the necklaces probably being
improved as regards selection, or else better arranged for the uses to
which the jeweler wishes to put them.

In the case of the larger necklaces, it frequently requires many years
of selection and arrangement before one becomes perfect enough to pass
the criticism or suit the fancy of the jeweler.

We have no record as to when the first pearl necklace was strung, nor
have we a definite record of the first use of silk for stringing a
necklace. The earliest illustration that we have been able to obtain of
the use of pearls in the form of a necklace is the one from Susa, in
which the pearls were secured with gold. A Syrian necklace, dating about
one or two centuries before Christ, was strung by means of a bronze
wire. We will endeavor to give a few facts on the interesting process of
preparing pearls for wearing.

Pearl stringing is an art, easy as the process may seem, and it is
interesting to note the precision, care, and delicacy with which the
pearl stringer performs his task. The first step is to grade the pearls
according to their size and color, so that they may produce the best
possible effect. The largest and finest pearl is placed in the center;
alongside of this, on each side, are laid the two pearls next in size
which are the most nearly alike in form and hue; and so on to the end of
the necklace. This grouping requires both experience and judgment, and
is of great importance, since the value of the pearls is often
considerably enhanced by a proper arrangement. A skilful stringer is
able to grade them so cleverly that only a trifling difference will be
found in the weight of the two halves of a necklace.

The stringing process consists in securing the end pearl by a knot to
the diamond, pearl, or other clasp which may be used. When a necklace is
being strung, the thread is passed through the metal eye, or pearl, or
other object that serves as a clasp. It is then tied with one knot,
passed through the next pearl, and knotted between that and the second
pearl, and sometimes between the second and the third, thus making the
joint doubly secure. The other pearls are then strung in their order, a
knot being placed after each fifth, fourth, third, or second pearl, or,
should there not be enough to give a proper length to the necklace,
between each single pearl. The deftness with which the knot is tied so
as not to hold the pearl too tightly, and risk the breaking of the
thread, and the precision with which forty, fifty, and even sometimes
several hundred knots are made on a single string, is a pleasing
operation to witness, and requires the greatest care and nicety of
touch. If knots are made frequently between the pearls, there is less
danger of losing them should the thread break, as only one or two can
fall off; sometimes, indeed, when the drill holes are very small, the
silk thread, waxed or unwaxed, fits so closely that the pearl does not
become detached even when the thread breaks.

The thread used is invariably of silk of the highest standard of purity,
strength, and texture, undyed, and not containing any chemicals. Two or
three of these threads are held together, then with a knife the edges
are very carefully scraped till the combined material of the three
threads is less than the thickness of one. Some use a needle to scrape
or fray to a sharp point. Then this point is stiffened by means of
“white glue,” the best material of this kind being pure gum arabic
dissolved in water. A little of this is rubbed on the pointed threads.
It stiffens in a moment, then the pearls are passed on, one after the
other. If the pearls to be strung are already on a necklace, this
process is simplified by the unknotting of the end of the necklace to be
re-strung; two or three of the pearls are slid on to the new string, the
ends or points of the new necklace thread are twisted together with the
old ends and the pearls are simply transferred.

Frequently the holes have been drilled so as to leave the rims rather
sharp; in this way the thread may be frayed out or even cut. This sharp
edge can easily be removed by careful reaming. Silk of pure quality is
the best material known for stringing pearls. A series of experiments
were made with every available fiber of sufficient durability from every
quarter of the globe, but silk alone was found to possess the strength,
the flexibility, and the smoothness necessary to permit a very fine set
of threads to pass through an opening as small as the drill hole of a
pearl. In the case of a long chain or sautoire, more than three hundred
pearls will be strung on a single row, one of over eighty inches in
length containing over three hundred pearls, and it requires a degree of
neatness and patience that few possess to do this in exactly the right
way, so that the thread may not be cut, that the pearls may not be too
tightly strung, and that the ends shall be carefully attached at the
clasp, so that the necklace may hang well and there may be no danger of
the ends breaking loose.

According to the frequency with which it is worn, a necklace should be
re-strung every three, six, or twelve months. The proper time for
re-stringing can generally be determined by the stretching of the thread
so that it can be seen either between the pearls or at either end,
giving the impression that one or more pearls are missing. A newly
strung necklace is taut.

Where a collar is from thirteen to fourteen inches in length, there are
frequently twenty-three rows of pearls, kept straight by four jeweled
bars, and sometimes from ten to twenty-five pearls in a section between
a bar. This would mean that there are more than two thousand pearls in a
collar of small pearls. When one considers that at each bar and at the
catch and clasp of the collar it is necessary to make a knotting, it is
not surprising that it requires from three to four days’ time of a very
expert pearl stringer to string or re-string such a pearl collar. A
splendid example of such a twenty-three-row collar is that belonging to
Señora Diaz, wife of the President of the Republic of Mexico.[420]

Frequent stringing may sometimes serve as a protection for pearls, as,
if wax is used, the drill hole is likely to become coated with wax from
the thread, and this prevents the absorption by the pearl of
perspiration or moisture of any kind through the thread. Indeed, the
thread itself, when waxed, does not readily absorb moisture, and as the
interior of the pearl also becomes waxed, this serves to protect it from
the absorption of humidity of any kind.

In making pearl necklets or muff-chains, a piece of gold wire of the
proper strength and pliability is taken. This wire is passed through the
hole of the pearl and then cleverly bent into a loop on each side and
firmly soldered. It is important that the wire should be very slightly
smaller than the dimension of the hole in the pearl so that it may fit
closely. Sometimes, instead of this method, a ring is soldered to one
end of the wire before this is passed through the pearl, the other end
being then secured in the manner described above. Still another method
is occasionally employed; in this a piece of the wire is bent into a
ring, but not quite closed, the aperture being just large enough to
admit the wire that has traversed the pearl; in this way the wire can be
introduced into the opening in the ring, which grips it tightly, and is
then soldered to it. In many cases two small rings are strung on the
wire on each side of the pearl before the loops are made, so that they
interpose between the latter and the pearl itself. This serves to
protect the sides of the pearl, as there is otherwise some danger that
the hole may become chipped or ragged; the same result can be obtained
if small caps, closely fitting the pearl, are used instead of the rings.
This is, however, only possible when the pearl is quite round, and in
this case the effect produced is often very attractive.

Many of the pearls set as rings and studs are no longer set in points,
but are set upon a peg, or are “pegged,” as it is termed. Setting a
pearl in claws generally hides more than one half of the entire sphere.
But if the pearl is not properly secured upon the peg, it will
occasionally fall off. However, this can be obviated to a great extent
by attaching the pearl to a double peg which keeps it from turning and
also prevents its falling off. Pearls have occasionally been damaged
with the shellac used, or when the gold peg on which the pearl is placed
was too hot.

In mounting very small pearls as link chains so as to form a continuous
pearly rope without any break in the way of gold links, occasionally
V-shaped cavities are drilled into each end of the pearl, and the
setting itself is hidden in this V-shaped cavity. This is only done
where the pearls are small and not of great value.

The jeweler, in setting pearls, must use the greatest possible care,
first, in cutting away the settings, as they are fastened to the pearl,
not to scratch or mar it; and then, when he files the settings, not to
allow the file to touch the pearl, as both the steel tool and the file
would injure it. He must particularly avoid placing the pearl too close
to a diamond, ruby, or other precious stone; for, even if the pearl only
slightly touches the gem against which it is set, a knock of the hand
may mar the pearl’s surface. More especially, as pearls are set at
present, “pegged” and without points, it is of the greatest importance
that they be worn in such a way that they may not touch the unexposed
edges of any precious stones, as this also would injure the pearls. For
lack of this precaution fine pearls have frequently been harmed.

A large jewelry firm has under consideration the following pearl order:
Any workman who in any way mutilates a pearl by filing, imperfect
drilling or shaping, or in any way affects the shape of a pearl, without
the authority of the foreman, will be called upon to pay for the same.

As pearls are natural objects, any change of the same to fit the
setting, or for attachment to any gold object, mutilates the gem and
greatly affects its value. If belonging to a customer, this frequently
means its replacement, often at a great cost to the jeweler.

Pearl “blisters” frequently have the appearance of being empty; they are
generally filled with a fluid, either water or the product of animal and
vegetable decomposition. These contents usually emit a peculiar and
unpleasant odor. As the exterior of the inclosure gradually wears away
and disappears, the contents of the blister are slowly absorbed by the
shell itself, and any organic or insoluble substances are deposited on
its inner surface.

Thus, when a shell shows any protuberance on this surface, the peeler
will cut or scrape away a portion of the decaying shell behind the spot.
Should he discover the hole of a borer, he lays the shell aside; but if
he finds it to be perfect at this spot, it is evident that the inclusion
came from within, and frequently it turns out to be an included pearl.
This is removed by breaking the shell, or by cutting around the
protuberance very near to its edge, and then breaking away the shell.
The pearl is often visible, and layer after layer of the covering mass
is removed with the greatest care by the peeler, who is rewarded by
bringing to light pearls of various qualities, and frequently those of
great value.

An instance in which, by opening a pearl blister, the speculator
received a good reward is given by Streeter, who says: “The _Harriet_
had the good luck to find, in 1882, a pearl 103 grains in weight, which
was inclosed in a huge blister. It was a fine _bouton_, of splendid
color in the upper portion, but a trifle chalky below. This was
attributed to the admission of salt water into the shell through a hole
made by a borer which happened to pierce the shell just where the pearl
lay, and had penetrated the latter for almost a quarter of an inch.”

Sometimes pearl masses are hollow. Barbot[421] mentions that a French
merchant residing in Mexico, having bought one of these pieces from a
fisherman at a low price, resolved to satisfy his curiosity by finding
out what was inside. He split it in two parts and was agreeably
surprised to find a pearl weighing 14¼ carats (57 grains), so round, of
such good water, and such fine orient, that he sold it in Paris for
nearly 5000 francs ($1000) in 1850.

Seed-pearl work was introduced into the United States, about seventy
years ago, by Henry Dubosq, who had studied the methods employed in
Europe and has been succeeded in this industry by his son, Augustus
Dubosq. The father bought a large quantity of English seed-pearl
jewelry, brought it to this country, and hired a number of girls to take
it apart carefully and re-string it with white horsehair, to learn how
it was made. With no more teaching, he established an industry that has
already lasted for three score and ten years.

Seed-pearl jewelry was most in vogue from the year 1840 to 1860. It was
generally sold in sets, in a case consisting of a collar, two bracelets,
two earrings, a small brooch, and a large spray or corsage ornament. If
the object was almost round, occasionally there was a larger central
pearl, weighing from one to five grains, usually a button pearl; or, if
the ornament was elongated, there were generally three larger pearls.
These sometimes possessed a fairly good luster. Seed-pearl jewelry was
at one time so popular, and the values were so small in this country,
that a $1000 seed-pearl set formed a principal feature of the Tiffany
exhibit at the International Exposition held at the Crystal Palace, New
York, in 1855.

Seed-pearl tiaras sell for from $75 to $200 or $300 each. The work is
almost entirely done by girls, either German or of German origin. As
labor is higher and pearls have advanced in price, none of the old work
could now be duplicated for the amount it cost twenty or thirty years
ago. The stringing of the pearls on the English scroll means probably
twelve hours of continuous work. An efficient pearl worker receives
$3.50 a day, which consists of not more than eight hours, as, owing to
the very trying character of the work, clear daylight is necessary to
see the holes in the small pearls and in the mother-of-pearl shell.

The foundation of all seed-pearl work is mother-of-pearl. The shell is
brought in thin plates, measuring from one and one half to two and one
half inches square. One of the most popular and attractive patterns is
the English scroll. If a design is to be repeated, a brass figure is
made. For the fabrication of a brooch, for instance, a design is first
made by drawing on a paper or cardboard; then a brass plate or pattern
is cut out, leaving spaces wherever there are to be no pearls. After
this a slab of stock mother-of-pearl, nearest the size of the brass
plate, is selected, and is sawn out, using the brass plate as a guide
for the outlines. The mother-of-pearl is then pierced wherever a pearl
is to be secured, and the pearls for its embellishment are chosen, and
are strung onto the mother-of-pearl outlines with a special horsehair
thread. All the work that remains for the jeweler is the addition of a
pin or catch on the back. A representation is given of the designs, the
brass plate, the mother-of-pearl, the horsehair, the pearls, and the
completed brooch made by this model.

Fine horsehair is used for stringing seed-pearls, because the holes
drilled in them are usually too small to admit of the use of silk, and
it is very important that what is known as pulled hair, taken from a
living horse, should be used, as otherwise the hair is too brittle. This
hair, in bunches of from eight to fourteen inches in length, is sold at
an average price of $1.50 a pound, and frequently only one ounce is
selected for use from the entire pound.

All the pearls used by the seed-pearl workers are purchased in strings
and bunches; the finest are those known as the Chinese seed-pearls; they
are drilled and strung in bunches, weighing three ounces, and are worth
$40 an ounce. They are drilled with so fine an aperture that silk will
not pass through the pearl, and only horsehair can be used. The Indian
Madras pearls, however, have a larger drill hole and can be strung with
silk; they are at present worth from eight to fifteen cents a grain,
that is, $48 to $90 per ounce.

Immense quantities of these very minute pearls are also used in bunches
or strings, sometimes as many as twenty or thirty strings being grouped
together and either bound straight or else twisted into veritable ropes
of pearls.

Seed-pearls are sold by the ounce, a single ounce frequently containing
as many as 9000,—that is, fifteen pearls to the pearl grain or sixty to
the carat,—selling for from $48 to $60 an ounce. Naturally, some of
these pearls are even smaller than this, but the average is maintained
by those that are a little larger.

Pearls as small as 100 to a diamond carat are drilled and used in
seed-pearl work. Diamonds, rubies, and even sapphires, however, are cut
in brilliant form when they are as small as 250 to 300 to the carat, or
45,000 to the ounce. The price of these small pearls, however, is only
from eight to fifteen cents per carat, whereas diamonds of this size are
worth from $200 to $300, their value being three times that of those
weighing one sixteenth to one eighth carat each. This is due to the fact
that the labor expended in cutting the smaller diamonds is much greater
than that bestowed upon the pearls, which simply require drilling and
not cutting.

“Half-pearl,” as we have mentioned, is the name given to such pearls as
are round and spherically domed and are either somewhat flat or almost
the shape of one half of a whole pearl of the same diameter. They are
produced in two ways: some are cut away as hemispheres from the inner
surface of the shell of the pearl-mussel, but more usually they are the
better portions of defective whole pearls which are sawn or split by
hand into two “halves” with a minute saw, the defective part being
rejected altogether or classified as inferior half-pearl, while the
better half is classified as a I or II quality half-pearl. Frequently a
fine specimen is obtained from an elongated pearl, and sometimes two,
three, or even four half-pearls are secured from the various bright
parts of a round pearl. In splitting half-pearls, the pearl to be
operated upon is held by hand in a kind of grooved vice or pincers and
sawn through with a very fine saw; this process is at once simple,
rapid, and of insignificant cost.

Only pearls which cannot be cut are filed. In this process the poorer
side of the pearl in question is laid upon the file, and the operator
takes a piece of ordinary hard wood, so formed that he can grasp it
firmly in his hand, presses it down upon the pearl, and rubs the latter
on the file, removing all but the good side. In this way a half-pearl is
produced.

The smaller half-pearls are from .5 to .75 millimeters in diameter, and
an ordinary ounce of half-pearl material will number 18,000. Of the
manufactured half-pearls there are, on an average, 20,528 to an ounce.

The half-pearl industry is largely carried on in Idar, on the Nahe
River, and in Oberstein, in the Duchy of Oldenburg, Germany. The pearls
are usually purchased from London or Paris houses in lots valued up to
$12,000 or more, although some of the firms buy directly from India. In
Idar about one hundred people are employed in this industry. Frequently
it is pursued m the home of the manufacturer, who may employ from one to
a dozen or more workers. These generally include a sorter or arranger,
and a marker to indicate the part of the pearl which should be sawn off.
There is also a trimmer or one who finally adjusts the pearls.

An unusually clever bit of deception was practised by an American pearl
fisher who had found two pearl blisters of almost identical size. Both
of these blisters were hollow, and were alike in form. The pearl dealer
very cleverly polished down both sides, rounded off the edges, cemented
the two backs together, and except for a tiny edge they had all the
appearance of a drop pearl that was fairly perfect on both sides. It
required but a little heating to separate the parts and show the
deception.

In setting half-pearls, they are generally selected from large lots with
great care as to their being of uniform size. A circular place for the
setting is often drilled with a steel drill, either for several or for a
single one. The half-pearl is frequently placed on one or more tiny
disks of paper, to give it the exact height in the setting, and the edge
of gold is rubbed up against the pearl, which is thus secured in its
place; or else tiny edges of gold are left projecting between each
pearl. These are pressed down after the pearl is in place. This process
requires great delicacy and skill and is frequently employed in the
decoration of pearl lockets and watches. In some of the cheaper work,
the half-pearls are cemented into the shallow disks that were drilled
for them, but frequently they are secured by metal points skilfully
raised out of the disks in which the pearls are set, and then pressed
down to hold the latter in place. Although apparently frailly set, it is
surprising that half-pearl ornaments have been owned for more than a
century, scarcely a pearl dropping out; and even if one or two pearls
should be lost from the piece of jewelry, the expense of replacing them
is not very great. They are often not as safely set when they are
mounted with diamonds, rubies, or other stones, more especially in
rounded rings or bracelets.

In drilling gold for the setting of half-pearls, where the hole must not
be carried right through the metal, a so-called “pearl drill” is used.
This is designed to cut a hole with a flat base in comparatively thin
layers of metal without disfiguring the opposite side, a task that can
easily be accomplished if care be taken not to drill deeper than is
strictly necessary for the safe adjustment of the pearl. For the
construction of this drill a piece of round steel wire of suitable size
is chosen; this is hammered flat at one end and then filed away at each
side, leaving a small spike standing in the center, which projects a
little beyond the cutting edges and acts as a pivot on which the drill
revolves. The steel on both sides of this spike is filed down to a fine
edge, care being taken to preserve the horizontal line, so that when the
spike is embedded in the metal both cutting edges come into play
simultaneously. If the drill is in good condition, it does its work very
rapidly, since it is used in an upright drill-stock, whose weight gives
a uniform and constant pressure. A good range of sizes of this drill
should be kept ready for use, so that one may be found to suit the
dimensions of any given pearl. This is essential in order to make an
opening just large enough to hold the gem, so that it may fit tightly,
without the necessity of reaming out the hole.

Half-pearls were frequently used with the most pleasing effect in the
decoration of antique watches. A number of remarkable examples of this
type are among the collection of antique watches of Henry Walters of
Baltimore. This collection had been acquired by Tiffany & Co. after the
sale of the San Donato Palace, the watches having been withdrawn from
the prince’s collection by his sister sometime before the sale.

In mounting pearls on gold, a white paste is sometimes employed in
half-pearl mounting, which is called by the French jewelers _gouache_.
This substance contains white lead, and its use is liable to be
injurious to the workmen, cases of lead colic having been recently
recognized as thus produced. This subject has lately (1907) been brought
forward at the Société Médicale des Hôpitaux in Paris. The cases were at
first mistaken for appendicitis, but proved to be well-marked cases of
lead poisoning. They had not been reported previously, and are evidently
not frequent, those noted being confined to instances in which the
employees had carelessly been in the habit of removing an excess of the
paste with the tongue.

Pearls that are constantly worn with judicious care do not seem to
deteriorate in any way. By judicious care we mean that pearls should not
be dropped or thrown down violently or placed on any substance which is
likely to act injuriously on the surface of the pearl itself.

Strings of pearls should never be dipped into water or solutions of any
kind, because the string which passes through them is likely to absorb
and to draw the liquid into the pearl, and as the pearl is made up of
many concentric layers, it is quite possible that, through capillary
action, some liquid, either pure, or stained with a foreign substance,
might be brought into the pearl, which would in this way eventually
become discolored. Rings and brooches containing half-pearls frequently
change color from this cause; but contact with the skin, or with lace,
or with fabrics which are not stained with certain chemical solutions,
seems to have no injurious effect upon pearls.

It is quite possible that in some instances where pearls which have been
inherited are thought to have changed and lost their beauty, this belief
has been owing to an exaggerated opinion of their quality on the part of
those who expected to inherit them and who never had the opportunity to
examine them carefully. In other words, in many cases where pearls are
believed to have lost their luster, to have died, or partly died, there
seems, from the personal observation of the writer, to be little doubt
that they never were really fine pearls, and that no change had actually
taken place in them. That pearls change but slightly is evidenced by the
fact that a splendid necklace belonging to the Empress Eugenie, which
was purchased about the year 1860, is in as good condition to-day as
when it first passed into the hands of the unfortunate empress of the
Second Empire. Many of the pearls in the royal treasury in Vienna that
belonged to Maria Theresa, and those that were disposed of at the sale
of the French crown jewels in 1886, as well as the pearls that are in
the imperial collection at St. Petersburg, do not seem to show any
appreciable evidence of age.

The pearl is of a lower hardness than any of the precious or
semiprecious stones, and almost as soft as malachite, though not so
friable or liable to break as is that mineral; nevertheless, it is in
many ways one of the most indestructible of natural objects of the low
hardness. Still, pearls, and especially fine pearls, require some care;
but, if the same attention is accorded them as would be given to a fine
piece of lace, velvet, or other fabric, or to a fine jewel, they will
last for a number of generations. If, however, pearls are worn at all
times without removal, if they are worn in the bath, if they are thrown
on a dressing-table, dropped on the floor, or otherwise ill-treated, if
they are worn on dusty automobile rides, in bicycle riding, or during
other gymnastic or violent exercise, it is inevitable that their sides
will rub together and wear one another away. If they are worn in the
bath or in swimming, the silk string which holds them, should it become
soaked, may draw some of the water, accompanied perhaps with dust and
perspiration, through the drill hole into the center of the pearl, and
this is likely to be absorbed in turn by the various layers of the
pearl, in some instances undoubtedly affecting the color, changing it to
a yellow or a gray. It would be well not to wear pearls under the
exceptional conditions above mentioned; and, if they are carefully wiped
at times, so as to remove any perspiration or dust, their color is not
likely to be affected for a long period of time.

Dr. George Harley writes in the “Proceedings of the Royal Society,”
March 1, 1888, p. 463:

On one occasion being desirous to crush into powder a split-pea
sized pearl, we folded it between two plies of note-paper, turned up
the corner of the carpet, and placing it on the hard, bare floor,
stood upon it with all our weight. Yet, notwithstanding that we
weigh over twelve stone, we failed to make any impression whatever
upon the pearl, and even stamping upon it with the heel of our boot
did not suffice so much as to fracture it. It was accordingly given
to the servant to break with a hammer, and on his return he informed
us that on attempting to break it with the hammer against the pantry
table, all he succeeded in doing was to make the pearl pierce
through the paper and sink into the wooden table, just as if it had
been the top part of an iron nail, and that it was not until he had
given it a hard blow with the hammer against the bottom of a
flat-iron that he succeeded in breaking it.

As the foregoing and other notes had appeared on this subject, the
author was led to observe that pearls are possessed of greater
durability than is generally supposed. In order to demonstrate this
satisfactorily, he took a number of American pearls and placed them upon
different kinds of woods, such as white and yellow pine, white oak,
teak, ash, cherry, chestnut, and rosewood. He then stood upon them, thus
bringing a weight of more than two hundred pounds to bear upon them by
means of his heel. The pearls were driven into the different woods, with
the single exception of the rosewood, which offered greater resistance
so that the pearl only entered partly. In but one instance did a pearl
suffer by a slight scaling off. This shows the strength of the many
concentric layers, both mineral and vegetable.

This does not signify that pearls should be stepped upon, trodden upon,
or thrown about, as it is not unlikely that a pearl would crack if it
should fall from some height upon a hardwood or stone floor.

It is believed by many that wrapping pearls in dyed velvets or in fatty
woolen materials, and locking them up in safe-deposit vaults, may
slightly change them. On the other hand, there is no doubt that sunlight
will bleach a pearl, and hence it is that wearing them in the light and
air cannot injuriously affect them.

For cleaning pearls, first rub them with a cloth dipped in alcohol
diluted with warm (not hot) water, or in a weak solution of soap and
water, then dip another cloth in clean water and rub the pearls until
they are dry. Be careful not to leave them wet. Either salt, rice,
pearl-powder, or some exceedingly soft substance may aid in cleaning
them, but no abrasive such as ground pumice, electro-silicon, or any
powder that is sold as a polishing powder, should be used.

There are many things that will cause injury to pearls. Occasionally
they are affected by the wearer having exudations from the skin induced
by some disease or else by acids which pass out through the pores with
the perspiration. A smoky atmosphere in which a sulphuric acid is
present owing to sulphur in the coal, violent usage such as knocking
severely, or dropping—all of these will in time cause more or less
injury to a pearl, more especially to one of the whiter varieties; but
it is believed that those of a yellowish cast are not so susceptible.
Diderot mentioned this as early as 1765.

The “life” of a pearl is said to be fifty, one hundred, and perhaps even
one hundred and fifty years; they certainly last for several
generations. It has been asserted, without any particular authority,
that pearls from the Pacific Ocean and those from Mexico do not last as
long as those from the Orient, but this statement is questionable.

If there be any foundation for the belief that it is not well to lock
pearls in a safe-deposit box, this is probably owing to the fact that
the absolute exclusion from the air may cause the drying out of the
organic constituent of the pearl. This may be obviated by putting the
pearls in a piece of linen absolutely free from any chemical, at the
same time placing with them a bit of blotting-paper or fiber-paper
saturated with water; the whole should then be wrapped up in paraffin
paper, which will prevent the evaporation of the moisture.

Many sentimental recitals have appeared in the press during the last ten
years in regard to the dying of pearls. In connection with this there is
a beautiful though mythical story to the effect that Carlotta, wife of
the ill-fated Maximilian, Emperor of Mexico, was the possessor of a
large collection of pearls which had died, and that these pearls had
been placed in a casket and sunk in the depths of the Adriatic, opposite
the beautiful but unhappy palace home, Miramar, in the hope that the
salt water would revive and restore their original luster. When,
however, the time came to bring up the pearls from the sea, it was found
that the casket had, in some way, broken loose from the chains, and all
trace of it was lost. It is needless to state that there was absolutely
no foundation for this romantic tale; indeed, these very pearls were
afterward sold. Furthermore, pearls have never lived, and hence they can
never die. They do, however, decay, if exposed to influences which
destroy either the calcareous or the animal layer of the pearl itself.
This is due to many causes: first, overheating, sometimes through the
inexperience of a pearl driller; secondly, undue exposure to heat in the
washing of a pearl necklace; thirdly, exposure to acids or acid fumes.
Apparently there seems to be some foundation for the belief that if they
are confined in safe-deposit boxes, probably in contact with wool or
with the colored velvets of jewel-cases, the skin of the pearl may be
more or less affected. There is no question that in the oriental
fisheries so-called dead pearls have been found in the shell itself,
probably owing to some disease of the pearl-oyster; and they have also
appeared in the fresh-water pearl fisheries of the United States, where
the pearls have been too long boiled in the opening of the shell, or
where they have been swallowed and have passed through the body of some
ruminant, such as a hog, etc.

Probably about no necklace has more been printed than about the famous
necklace of Madame Thiers, now in the Louvre Museum of Paris. Article
after article has gone over the face of the earth, stating that the
pearls in this necklace were dying, and that a record was being kept of
the slow death that was overtaking them. Through the courtesy of the
director of the museum, M. Gaston Mogeaud, we are permitted to reproduce
the following statement from a letter, showing very clearly that there
is absolutely no truth in the assertion, and that this necklace has in
no way suffered, or is likely to suffer, for many years to come.

“The necklace of Madame Thiers has caused much ink to flow, to such an
extent that, a few months ago, the minister ordered an examination to be
made by three expert jewelers, who have found that the pearls are in
perfect condition, and have never been in better health.”

For assuring the safety of jewels there are the primitive methods such
as are used in the East Indies, of hiding pearls in out-of-the-way
places, where they often escape detection; or else they may be protected
by means of an armored room, like the gem-room that contained the
wonderful collection of the Duke of Brunswick when he resided in Paris.
Decoy necklaces have even been made to represent the original, and so
placed that they were taken away by the highwayman or stolen by the
burglar under the belief that he was stealing the jewels; while in other
cases the pearls have been carried in receptacles that would not be
taken for jewel-caskets, a device resorted to by some travelers.

A word in regard to the former system of strong boxes or small safes for
the home. These protect from fire and from the ordinary thief, but they
have sometimes not proved so invulnerable to the expert cracksman. Quite
recently a jewel chest has been devised which can be placed in a trunk
and carried from city to city by the owner. It is provided with an
exceedingly sensitive electrical apparatus, by means of which a loud
burglar alarm is set off should the chest be lifted even one
thirty-second of an inch or jarred ever so slightly. This alarm is set
automatically when the owner turns the key, and if once started, it will
ring for a couple of hours, stopping only when the box is unlocked, thus
preventing the carrying away of what is otherwise a portable box.

Lastly, there are the more advanced methods, in use during the past two
centuries, such as taking the jewels to a banker and allowing him to
place them in his vault, where they are guarded as well as are his own
belongings, but not always with the security of the modern safe-deposit
vaults, where the gems are absolutely under the control of the owner,
and can frequently be obtained at any hour of the day; or as safely kept
as they are when deposited in the safe deposit of the jeweler, in whose
establishment they can be cleaned, repaired, added to, or changed
without risking their removal to another building.

 


XV

PEARLS AS USED IN ORNAMENTS AND DECORATION

 


XV
PEARLS AS USED IN ORNAMENTS AND DECORATION


And the necklace,
An India in itself, yet dazzling not.

BYRON, _Marino Faliero_.

The brilliant diamond and the love of its possession has captivated many
to such a degree that it has often been the cause of intrigue and
bloodshed; and national history has been influenced by its acquisition
or retention. The pearl, however, though the most quiet of gems, has, in
its own way, found favor in the sight of emperors and empresses, kings
and queens, generals, nobles, and priests; and even savages have admired
its quiet, stately dignity.

The following pages are devoted to a description of the various
ornamental uses of the pearl in different times and countries.
Naturally, many of the famous pearls in the following chapter, if
considered purely as ornaments, might have found a place here.

The Egyptians of olden times do not appear to have used fine pearls,
although they probably knew of them on account of the proximity of the
Red Sea. M. J. de Morgan, the explorer, says: “In the tombs of Dashour I
have never seen any; the only ones that I know of in Egyptian jewelry
belong to the Ptolemaic period and are mounted in Greek style.”[422]

This statement is confirmed by Dr. William F. Petrie, the well-known
Egyptologist, who writes under date of July 26, 1907: “The pearl was
often used in Roman jewelry in Egypt, but I do not know of any instance
of it in pure Egyptian work. The Romans pierced it and hung it by gold
wire on earrings. They also made glass, pearl-like beads, called _luli_
by the modern natives. These beads are made by silvering glass beads and
then flashing over them another coat of glass.”

Among specimens of the late Egyptian work we may note here some objects
in the Louvre:

A pleasing decoration on gold wire is a necklace in the collection of
the Egyptian Gallery. In this very small pearls are used as a connective
decoration for the points of leaves, and to hold the leaves and
ornaments is a gold wire which is secured by bending. This piece
comprises 104 pearls, a greater number than is contained in any other
object of antiquity found in Egypt.

An Egyptian pendant of unknown origin is also shown in this collection.
At the lower end is a bull’s head, caparisoned, and the tip of each horn
is fitted with a ball like the _embolados toros_ of the Spanish
bull-fights. The rein is double, and above this there are two rondelles
of an unidentified material; then comes a rondelle of lapis lazuli, and
after this a rondelle of gold. The whole is strung with twisted gold
wire. The center stone is an hexagonal amethyst, evidently a crystal,
the two faces of which had been polished and incised. One of these faces
represents a priest with a staff of office, and the other a priest
holding an incense-burner with the hieroglyph of the altar. With one
hand he is offering the two sacrifices, the mineral and the vegetable;
in the other he holds a garland of flowers or leaves. Above this is an
Oriental pearl somewhat worn and abraded. All these are secured by a
twisted gold wire, to which four tiny gold beads of graduated size are
affixed at the top of the pendant.

There are six other pendants and earrings in the Egyptian Gallery, all
of which contain pearls, and in most instances these pearls have been
drilled and suspended by metal wires, unless they are used as an
ornament facing outward. In four instances they are secured by a peg of
gold.

The Assyrian and Persian bas-reliefs show that the sovereigns and great
personages of those countries adorned themselves profusely with pearls.
They wore them not only in their jewelry, but also on their garments and
even in their beards![423] The coins of the Persian kings also bear
testimony to the use of the gem in ancient Persia, since the sovereigns
are represented wearing tiaras ornamented with triple rows of
pearls.[424] The same may be said of the imperial Roman diadem from the
time of Caracalla (188–217 A.D.).

One of the most interesting of all ancient pearl necklaces,[425]
containing more pearls than any other that has been found, and in a
better state of preservation, is the Susa necklace now in the Persian
Gallery of the Louvre Museum. It consists of three rows, each containing
72 pearls, so that there are 216 in all. Ten gold bars, formed of three
small disks, each about five millimeters in diameter, divide the
necklace into nine equal sections; at each end there is a disk, ten
millimeters in diameter, to which the three strands are secured. If
there was any other setting, it has evidently disappeared, although it
is quite possible that there may only have been a string at each end, as
in the East Indian necklaces.

This ornament was found on the site of the ancient Susa or Shushan by M.
J. de Morgan, February 10, 1901, in a bronze sarcophagus, which
contained the skeleton of a woman, adorned with a great number of gold
ornaments set and incrusted with precious stones. M. de Morgan gives
_circa_ 350 B.C. as the probable date of these objects. The pearls were
much deteriorated. About 238 were found, but many of them crumbled away
when they were touched. M. de Morgan considers that the necklace was of
the type of the “dog-collar” of to-day, and he believes that it
originally comprised from 400 to 500 pearls.

According to a personal communication from M. P. Cavvadias, of the
Société Archéologique d’Athènes, there are no pearls on the ancient
ornaments preserved in the National Museum at Athens. This is hardly
surprising in view of the fact that the greater part of these ornaments
belong to the archaic period of Greek art; that is to say, to a time
when the pearl was evidently unknown to the Greeks.

The fact that we do not find more evidence of the use of pearls in
Greece at a later period need cause no surprise, when we consider how
many of the treasures of Greek art have disappeared in the course of
more than twenty centuries. There can be no question that they were
known and used as ornaments at an early time, as we can infer from the
description of them by Theophrastus and later Greek authors.

Dr. Edward Robinson of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and other
authorities on Greek art and archæology, maintain that the Arethusa
necklace, and other ornaments of that time, depicted on coins, etc.,
were meant to represent gold ornaments, as it is believed by many that
pearls were unknown in Greece at that period.

One of the most interesting specimens showing the use of a pearl in
ancient times is a very beautiful pearl pin from Paphos, on the Island
of Cyprus, which is mounted with a large marine pearl, probably the
largest antique pearl ever found, measuring fourteen millimeters in
diameter, and weighing about 70 grains. This, unfortunately, has been
very much abraded and worn away, although more than half of the pearl is
still present. It is surmounted by a small fresh-water pearl, four
millimeters in diameter, weighing about two grains and in a much better
state of preservation. This unusually interesting example of prehistoric
pearl is in the Greek and Roman department of the British Museum, and we
are able to show it by the courtesy of the keeper of that department,
Dr. Charles Hercules Read.

In excavations made last spring (1907), in the Hauran district in Syria,
Azeez Khayat found a number of loose pearls which had formed a necklace.
The tomb in which they were discovered was cut in the rock, and appeared
to be of Roman origin. The pearls were still attached to the old bronze
wire with which they had been strung. Mr. Khayat also mentions the
finding of a pearl pin, and a single earring bearing a pearl, in a
rock-tomb at Cæsarea, in Syria. Rock-cut tombs from ten to twelve feet
in depth are frequently discovered, and they probably date from the
beginning of the Christian era.

The habit was so common of using pearls as a base to throw up the
brilliance of other gems, that we may, perhaps, believe even in
Caligula’s slippers of pearls, with rubies and emeralds set upon them
like flowers.

The Roman ladies had a special favor for pearls as earrings, and it was
one of their consuming ambitions to possess exceptionally fine specimens
for this purpose. They preferred pear-shaped pearls, and often wore two
or three of them strung together. They jingled gently as they moved
about—a fitting accompaniment, it may be said, to their graceful
movements—and from this jingling the name _crotalia_, or “rattles,” was
applied to them.

The description given by Pliny of the pearl ornaments of Lollia Paulina
is the principal claim which the wife of Caligula has on our interest.

I myselfe have seen Lollia Paulina when she was dressed … so beset
and bedeckt all over with hemeraulds and pearles, disposed in rewes,
ranks, and courses one by another; round about the attire of her
head, her cawle, her borders, her perruke of hair, her bongrace and
chaplet; at her ears pendant, about her neck in a carcanet, upon her
wrest in bracelets, & on her fingers in rings; that she glittered
and shone againe like the sun as she went. The value of these
ornaments she esteemed and rated at forty million Sestertij[426] and
offered openly to prove it out of hand by her bookes of accounts and
reckonings. Yet were not these jewels the gifts and presents of the
prodigall prince her husband, but the goods and ornaments from her
owne house, fallen to her by way of inheritance from her
grandfather, which he had gotten together even by the robbing and
spoiling of whole provinces. See what the issue and end was of those
extortions and outrageous exactions of his: this was it. That M.
Lollius, slandered and defamed for receiving bribes and presents of
the kings in the East; and being out of favor with C. Cæsar, sonne
of Augustus, and having lost his amitie, dranke a cup of poison, and
prevented his judiciall triall: that forsooth his neece Lollia, all
to be hanged with jewels of 400 hundred thousand Sestertij, should
be seene glittering, and looked at of every man by candle-light all
a supper time.[427]

And the taste of the Roman ladies for pearls has perpetuated itself in
Italy, though other of the luxurious habits which in their case
accompanied it, have long since died out. The women of Florence even now
are not content if they do not possess a necklet of pearls, and this
generally forms the marriage portion of the middle-class women. It is
thought, just as it was in ancient Rome, that this gives an air of
respectability, and forms a sure protection from insult in the street or
elsewhere.

One of the earliest illustrations showing a pearl earring is the one in
the ear of Julia, the daughter of Titus, incised on a splendid
aquamarine in the Bibliothèque Nationale. This gem was formerly in the
Treasury of St. Denis, and is considered to belong to the Carlovingian
period.[428]

So large and heavy were the earrings worn in Rome that there were women
known as _auriculæ ornatrices_, special doctresses whose sole occupation
was the healing of ear tumors and of injured or infected ears. In a
similar way, at the present day, we have the ear piercer, whose
vocation, however, is rapidly becoming useless because of the ingenious
modern devices for holding the pearls to unpierced ears; and we must
consider this eminently desirable when we think of the ear-piercing
outfits of the former jeweler, who never disinfected his apparatus, and
when we recall the fact that it was always expected that the ear would
swell, first, from the crude awl that was used, and, secondly, from the
unsterilized instruments.

That the Romans believed in decorating the statues of their goddesses
with pearls and dedicating them as offerings, is evidenced by the gift
of Cleopatra’s pearl, which was cut in halves to make earrings for the
Venus of the Pantheon; and by the buckler of British pearls for the
statue of Venus Genetrix, given by Julius Cæsar. Quite a number of
statues and busts of the Roman period, and some of an earlier time, have
the ears pierced for the reception of earrings, and it is highly
probable that pearls were used for this decoration. Among these are the
busts of Pallas and Juno Lanuvina in the Vatican; that of Eirene, a
marble copy of a work of Cephisdotus, in the Glyptothek, Munich, and the
Venus de Medici in the Uffizi, Florence.

Pottier[429] mentions several other Greek statues which show that
earrings were used for their adornment; as, for example, the winged
Victory of Archernos, in Delos; the head of one of the caryatids found
at Delphi, a cast of which is in the Louvre; the archaic Aphrodite of
the Villa Ludovisi; the Athena from the frieze of the temple at Ægina;
the Venus of Milo, etc. In other instances the ornament was simply
painted on the ear as is shown in the Aphrodite in white marble which
has been found in Marseilles. This may also have been the case in the
frieze at Olympia. The earrings used in these statues were usually metal
disks entirely covering the lobe of the ear. We have, however, many
representations of pearl earrings in the paintings at Pompeii, and on
cameos and coins. These show us several of the types mentioned by Pliny
and other authors; still, they are smaller and more unpretentious than
we might expect in view of the well-known luxury of the Roman ladies in
this respect. The greater part of the earrings represented show a pearl
suspended from a single wire; there are some, however, with three
pearls, one above the other,[430] and a few bearing several pearls
loosely hung together, answering to the description of the _crotalia_.
Others, again, bear pear-shaped pearls or _elenchi_.[431] It is a
singular fact that scarcely any of the busts of Roman women are
ornamented with earrings, but it is quite possible that the cause for
this must be sought in the desire of the artist to dispense with
unimportant details which might detract from the general effect he
wished to produce. We may note, however, four female figures in the
Gallerie des Empereurs in the Louvre Museum, with the ears pierced for
the reception of earrings (Nos. 1195, 1202, 1230, and 1269).

Many numismatists, among them Dr. F. Louis Comparette,[432] believe that
the necklaces and earrings represented on Greek coins from the fifth
century B.C. are intended to represent pearl ornaments, since the
personages depicted are in all cases female divinities, goddesses, or
nymphs, held in great veneration in the city where the coins were
minted, and it is almost certain that the artist intended to portray the
choicest and most beautiful of gems as an adornment for the beautiful
head of the city’s patron.

The Syracusan coins, by Euvenetus, minted in the early part of the fifth
century B.C., and bearing the head of Arethusa, seem to be the earliest
coins showing a neck and ear ornament. This was later imitated on the
Greek and Greco-Roman coins. A coin of Sulla shows a double necklace,
one strand consisting of round beads and the other of pendants. The
later coins almost always represent the goddesses with neck and ear
ornaments. Some of the latter, however, resembling amphoræ, are neither
round nor pear-shaped.

In view of the great fondness of the Romans for pearls, it is not
surprising that many of these gems have been found in the excavations at
Pompeii, Herculaneum, and Capodimonte. The collection of earrings
preserved in the Naples Museum is especially noteworthy. Here we can see
earrings consisting of a simple golden hoop, from which hangs a wire
bearing a single pearl; others in which a cross-bar is attached to the
hoop, and at each end of this bar is a loosely hung wire with a pearl at
its extremity, this earring suggesting the _crotalia_ mentioned by Pliny
(see Fig. A); and still others wherein the pearls are strung directly on
the hoop. The cross-bars are of various designs, sometimes entirely
smooth, and again shaped like a cornice or a pediment; in other cases we
have an earring with two pearls on a wire, then a pierced transparent
stone, and beneath that, two pearls terminating the large drop. A few of
the earrings are more elaborate, as, for example, one represented in
Fig. B which was found in Pompeii, March 8, 1870. Here there is an
emerald in the center, surrounded by gold rays, between which were set
eight pearls, two of which are now missing; above is a small pearl. The
single earring shown in Fig. D came from Herculaneum, and bears a
circlet of thirteen pearls, alternating with rubies and other stones;
beneath there is a link from which depends a pearl about seven and a
fifth millimeters in diameter, and weighing nearly twelve grains. The
fact that we know the latest date to which these pearls can be assigned,
namely, 79 A.D., renders them peculiarly interesting and valuable from a
historical point of view. Naturally, many of them are calcined or
otherwise damaged, but others are fairly well preserved as to form,
although the luster has departed from them. There are twenty-seven
earrings in the collection, and the pearls number about one hundred. No
great pearls were found.

In the Roman excavations, and in those of other early remains, many
objects are found in which there may be a sapphire, an emerald, or
several other stones, pierced, and pendant on a gold wire, with a blank
space between, showing that something was there originally. This object
has apparently decomposed and fallen away. We may reasonably suppose
that it was either a pearl or a glass bead, and it is unlikely that
glass would be used in connection with the more precious materials. This
pearl or glass may have been affected by the organic acids or the acids
resulting from the decomposition of the body with which the ornament was
buried for a score of centuries.

Among the ancient jewels containing pearls which are preserved in the
Hermitage at St. Petersburg, we may mention a broken gold ring with a
roughly cut turquoise and two pendants, each set with two pearls
separated by a garnet. This object was found in southern Siberia during
the reign of Peter the Great, and may belong to the second century
before Christ. Also may be noted a pair of gold earrings, with an
engraved six-rayed star, in the center of which a pearl is set, while
below hang three pendant sticks, two of which have a pearl at the
extremity. These earrings were found in 1892 in a tomb situated close to
the site of the ancient town of Chersonesus, in the Crimea. As a coin of
the Emperor Gordianus III (224–244 A.D.) was discovered in the same
tomb, we may assign the earrings to the first half of the third century
A.D.

Beside another pair of earrings, one of which is set with a pearl, and
two pearl-headed pins, all from the neighborhood of Tiflis, in the
Crimea, we may especially refer to an earring made of a plain, thick,
golden wire, on which seven pearls are threaded; one of these occupies
the center and the others are grouped around it. This earring was
purchased in 1903 by the Russian Imperial Archæological Commission from
a collector residing at Odessa; it is said to have been found on the
site of the ancient Greek colony of Olbia, but we have no definite
external or internal evidence to sustain this view.

We may also note the gold necklace and earrings[433] containing pearls
found near the site of Olbia during the reign of Napoleon III, and now
in the collection of the Roman, Campana. These objects are especially
interesting owing to the fact that the pearls are drilled and a gold cap
is set on each side.

A pair of pearl earrings were found in a tomb on Mount Mithridates, near
Kertch, in the Crimea. These earrings probably belong to the third or
fourth century of our era. Of the four pearls which originally adorned
the cross-bars, only one has been preserved. Another pair of earrings
was discovered in the same place. It is probable that they were
ornamented with pearls in a similar way, but the latter have entirely
disappeared.

Gabriele Bremond states in his “Viaggi di Egitto,” _Lib._ I, c. 30, that
it was a Mohammedan custom to embroider baldachins and carpets of
precious metals with pearls. This use is especially typified in a
baldachin of gold embroidered with pearls which is over the sepulcher of
Mohammed at Mecca.[434]

When the Mohammedans captured the Persian city Ctesiphon, in 637, they
collected an immense booty. Each of the 60,000 soldiers received the
value of 12,000 dirhems ($1560), a total of $93,600,000. Among the
treasures sent to Caliph Omar (581–644), in Medina, was a crown, perhaps
that of Khusrau I (499–579), which Tabari says was studded with 1000
pearls each as large as a bird’s egg.[435] There was also a wonderful
carpet 450 feet long and 90 broad, with a border of emeralds, rubies,
sapphires, and pearls, representing luxuriant foliage and beautiful
flowers. Tabari states that it was called the “Winter Carpet,” because
“the Persian kings used it in winter when there was no longer verdure or
flowers, for whoever was seated on this carpet thought he looked out
upon a garden or a green field.”[436]

On the occasion of the marriage of the Caliph Al-Mamun (786–833) with
the daughter of Hassan Sahal, all the grandees of Al-Mamun received
slaves of both sexes as presents from the bride’s father. The
preliminary negotiations were held at Fomal Saleh, and the road
traversed by the bride and bridegroom to reach Bagdad, a distance of one
hundred miles, was covered with mats of cloth of gold and silver. We are
told that the bride wore on her head-dress a thousand pearls, each of
which is said to have been of enormous value.[437]

Describing the birthday festival of Kublai Khan (_circa_ 1275 A.D.),
Marco Polo says: “The Great Kaan dresses in the best of his robes, all
wrought with beaten gold; and full 12,000 Barons and Knights on that day
came forth dressed in robes of the same colour, and precisely like those
of the Great Kaan, except that they are not so costly; but still they
are all of the same colour as his, and are also of silk and gold. Every
man so clothed has a girdle of gold; and this as well as the dress is
given him by the Sovereign. And I will aver that there are some of these
suits decked with so many pearls and precious stones that a single suit
shall be worth full 10,000 golden bezants [about $25,000].”[438]

In the Kan period, in China, the dead bodies of the emperors were
embalmed and wrapped in a garment ornamented with pearls. They were then
inclosed in a case of jade.[439]

Speaking of the jewels of the King of Maabar, or what is now known as
the Coromandel Coast, Marco Polo tells us: “It is a fact that the king
goes as bare as the rest, only round his loins he has a piece of fine
cloth and round his neck he has a necklace entirely of precious
stones,—rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and the like, insomuch that this
collar is of great value. He wears also hanging in front of his chest
from the neck downwards, a fine silk thread strung with 104 large pearls
and rubies of great price. The reason why he wears this cord with the
104 great pearls is (according to what they tell) that every day,
morning and evening, he has to say 104 prayers to his idols. Such is
their religion and custom; and thus did all the kings his ancestors
before him, and they bequeathed the string of pearls to him that he
should do the like.”[440]

A favorite East Indian amulet is known as the “Nao-ratna” or
“Nao-ratan,” and consists of “nine gems”: in former times the pearl,
ruby, topaz, diamond, emerald, lapis lazuli, coral, sapphire, and a
stone, not identified, called the gomeda. At the present time these
stones are generally the coral, topaz, sapphire, ruby, flat diamond, cut
diamond, emerald, hyacinth, and carbuncle. This talisman may suggest the
Urim and Thummin or sacred oracle of the Jews, which was said to have
been taken from Jerusalem in 615 A.D. by Khusrau II, the Sassanian
Persian king.

The East Indian custom for persons of quality was to wear a pearl
between two colored stones in each ear, that is, either between two
rubies or two emeralds; and Tavernier noted, about 1670, that there was
no person of any consideration in those regions who did not wear, in
each ear, a pearl set between two colored stones. Another favorite
ornament for women in India is a girdle elegantly embroidered, bearing a
large pendant pearl in front, where it is fastened.[441]

A necklace of twenty-seven pearls bears in India the name of _nakshatra
mālā, nakshatras_ (originally “stars”) being the name of the
twenty-seven divisions of the Hindu zodiac.[442]

In the Indian jewels often a small spot of enamel is fastened or melted
on to a gold wire, and then one or several pearls are hung upon it; or
beads of some gems, as sapphire, ruby, emerald, or even glass, may be
added or alternated with pearls. Then the enamel stop-piece is turned
down and the other end of the gold wire is twisted on to the setting,
loosely, in such a manner as to swing freely. It is the effect of these
dozens or even hundreds of swinging drops that add such grace and
elegance to East Indian jewelry.

In China, such precious stones as the ruby, sapphire—both blue and
yellow—the emerald, and the pink tourmaline, are not facetted, as with
us, but are generally polished in conformity to the shape of the bead or
other ornament, and never have a lathe-turned or cut appearance; they
are either set in cabochon or as beads, rounded, oval, or elongated. All
these forms, and the colors used by the Chinese, lend themselves well to
combinations with pearls; and hence pearls are often found in Chinese
jewelry, especially in those ornaments which are flexible and graceful,
in which the pearls and gems are strung on wire and allowed to swing
freely with a gentle tinkle when the wearer moves. This is not unlike
the setting of such gems in ancient Roman times. An admirable example is
shown and described in Bushell’s “Chinese Art” (Vol. II, plate 108, page
90). In this head-dress of a Manchu lady, there are combined with the
pearls, jadeite, amethyst, amber, and coral, on a gilt silver openwork,
with blue kingfisher feathers. This great cap of state is an admirable
example of pure Chinese design and workmanship. The pendant strings of
pearls are occasionally relieved by a bit of carved jade, carnelian or
coral, especially the latter. Another example, the “cap of state” has
silver-gilt openwork and immortelles (Taoist symbols), and is much
enhanced in beauty by a decoration or inlay of plates of the beautiful
blue feathers of the kingfisher, which are used so extensively and
effectively in Chinese jewelry. The pearls are scattered at intervals
over the cap, and ten strings of them hang from the sides of it. This is
believed to be of Manchu origin by Dr. Stephen W. Bushell, the great
Chinese scholar, to whom we are indebted for the use of the
illustration. We are also told that young ladies in China wear a sort of
crown constructed of pasteboard, covered with silk. This is adorned with
pearls, diamonds, and other jewels.[443]

The pearls on many Chinese ornaments were generally strung upon silk,
often with half a dozen or a dozen seed-pearls above and below the large
pearl, to hold the latter in place, and also to add a softness to the
whole jewel. The end pendant pearl, even if pear-shaped, was usually
pierced entirely through, and a wire that was worked through it was
flattened out, and this gold head was again ornamented in some way. A
Chinese pendant from the China-Japan war-loot offers an excellent
illustration of this kind of pearl-setting. This was preserved in a
double box of finely carved gold.

The rosaries containing 104 pearls, which are used to-day, were
mentioned centuries ago by Marco Polo, and an excellent pearl string of
this kind has been in the Russian Treasury at Moscow for over two
hundred years. Dr. Stewart Culin, the archæologist, who has paid much
attention to Chinese customs, informs us that the black and white
counters made for use in games by the Chinese are called black and white
pearls.

Dr. T. Nishikawa writes us in 1908 that pearls were used in Japan for
ornamental purposes more than a thousand years ago. Large abalone pearls
are found in images of Buddha made in 300 A.D. Fresh-water pearls,
usually from Dipsas and Unio, were also used. A beautiful color-print
was made by Hoku’ai of the first pearl, called “tide-jewel” by the
Japanese.

Most interesting pearls are those in a brooch in the British Museum,
which was discovered in 1839 while excavating a sewer opposite Ludgate
Hill in Thames Street, at the depth of about nine feet, in a
dark-colored artificial stratum of earth, unaccompanied by any remains
that could aid in throwing light upon its history. It is four inches and
a half in circumference, and is composed of a circular compartment an
inch and a quarter in diameter, set with variegated enamel, representing
a full-faced head and bust, with a crown on the head, and the drapery of
a mantle, formed of threads of gold effectively arranged so as to mark
the features of the face and the folds of the drapery; this is inclosed
in a border of rich gold filigree work, set at equal distances with four
pearls.[444] Dr. Charles Roach Smith attributes this brooch to the time
of King Alfred, and supposes it to have been executed in England by a
foreign artist. He only ventures a conjecture that the head might be
that of King Alfred.

Crowns, both ancient and modern, are richly ornamented with pearls. We
shall treat of the crown of the Holy Roman Empire and of the imperial
Austrian crown in the following chapter. One of the most interesting and
ancient is the famous crown of Khusrau II (reigned 590–638), made in the
latter part of the sixth century, which was brought to light by Shah
Abbas after a thousand years of concealment in an obscure fortress among
the mountains of Lauristan. It does not contain diamonds among its
ornaments, but is incrusted with pearls and rubies.[445]

From the representation given on the cup of Khusrau, the throne of the
Sassanian Persian kings appears to have been as large as a couch; it was
supported by four winged animals, whose model had been borrowed by the
Sassanians from their ancestors, and it was covered with an embroidered
stuff thrown over mattresses and cushions. If we may believe Tabari
(“Chronicles,” trans. by Zotenberg, Vol. II, p. 304), this throne was of
gold, enriched with precious stones, and surmounted by a crown of gold
and pearls, so heavy that the sovereign could not wear it, and therefore
had it suspended above his head.[446]

One of the crowns in the Hermitage at St. Petersburg was discovered in
1864 in a tumulus near Novo-Tcherkask, with many other valuable objects,
all of which had apparently been buried with some important personage.
This crown resembles somewhat that of Reccesvinthus in the treasure of
Guerrazar, although some portions of it seem to belong to the period of
the Roman empire. The conjecture has been made that the crown may have
been worn by a queen since it is decorated with a finely executed bust
of a woman in amethyst. The crown itself is of pure gold, and was
bordered with two rows of pearls, which have disappeared, leaving only
the small disks to which they were attached; besides these, it was
ornamented with a number of uncut precious stones. The date of this
object cannot be exactly determined, although the consensus of opinion
is that it belongs to about the third century after Christ. Possibly the
bust and some other portions, which appear to be of Greco-Roman
workmanship, are of this period, while the rest of the crown was
executed one or two centuries later; it is about seven inches in
diameter and two in height.[447]

Toward the end of the year 1858 a French officer who lived in Spain,
while making some excavations on a property he owned there, discovered
fourteen small gold crowns. They were taken to the Spanish mint and are
said to have been melted for bullion. New excavations on the same spot
brought to light eight other crowns of considerable weight, of the
finest workmanship, and incrusted with precious stones, pearls, etc.
There is no doubt that these crowns were buried in the early years of
the eighth century, when the Arabs, led by Tarik, invaded Spain and
forced the Gothic dynasty to take refuge in the north of Europe. The
importance of this discovery is very great, since it gives us positive
evidence of the development of the goldsmith’s art in Spain at that
early period. An inscription proves that one of the crowns was dedicated
in the second half of the seventh century, and it is one of the few
authentic memorials we possess of that epoch. In February, 1859, the
eight crowns were purchased by the French government and placed in the
Musée de Cluny. Two other crowns found in the same place were added in
1860, and complete the collection.

The largest of these crowns is that of the Gothic king, Reccesvinthus,
who was King of Spain from 649 to 672. It is composed of a wide band of
solid gold, ten centimeters wide and twenty-one centimeters in diameter
(about four and eight inches respectively). This band, which opens by
means of a hinge, is surrounded by two borders of gold set with the red
stones of Caria, called “gemmae alabandenses,” and the band itself is
studded with thirty large oriental sapphires of the greatest beauty.
Thirty fine pearls of appropriate size alternate with the sapphires on a
ground incrusted with the red stones above mentioned. From twenty-three
small gold chains depend large letters in cloisonné, and also incrusted,
forming the sentence: RECCESVINTHUS REX OFFERET. Each letter has a gold
pendant with a pearl from which hangs a pear-shaped sapphire.

The crown is suspended from four chains, converging to a double floral
ornament of solid gold, adorned with twelve sapphire pendants. This
ornament, the leaves of which are open, is surmounted by a capital of
rock crystal, then comes a ball of the same material, and the whole is
terminated by the gold center to which the four chains are attached.

The cross, which is suspended underneath the crown by a gold chain, is
remarkable for its elegance and its richness. It is of solid gold and is
inlaid with six very fine sapphires and eight large pearls, each of
which is mounted in relief with claws. At the back, the cross still
bears the wire by which it was attached to the royal mantle. The inside
of the crown is quite smooth; the outside is composed of elegant
fleurettes in openwork, the leaves being filled with the same species of
red carnelian mentioned above. There are thirty sapphires, all of the
finest water, and a few of them show the natural facetted
crystallization; the two principal ones, placed in the center of the
band, are thirty millimeters in diameter. The pearls are of an
exceptional size, and only a few of them have been injured by time. The
total number on the crown, cross, and top ornament, is seventy, thirty
of which are unusually large. The chains are each composed of five
openwork ornaments with an enamel paste inlaid in the gold edge. A close
examination of the crown shows that it had been worn before the king
presented it to some church.

The royal Hungarian crown given to St. Stephen by the pope in the year
1000 A.D., when Hungary became an empire, is one of the most ancient
crowns in existence. It contains 320 pearls and was procured in
Byzantium. It was pledged to the emperor, Frederick IV, by Queen
Elizabeth of Hungary, probably about 1440.

In the cathedral of Prague (the metropolitan church of St. Vitus) there
may be seen the crown which was made by the order of Charles IV (1378)
out of four pounds, ten and a quarter ounces of gold. It is adorned with
twenty-nine pearls, forty-seven rubies, twenty sapphires, and
twenty-five emeralds. The value of the gold and gems was estimated at
$10,000 in 1898, which is probably less than it would be worth to-day.
The sacred crown worn by St. Wenceslaus was inserted within the crown of
Charles IV at the instance of Queen Blanca. The golden scepter and the
golden orb are of very beautiful workmanship. The scepter has six
rubies, eight sapphires, and thirty-one pearls. There may also be seen
in the treasury a gilded monstrance, in the style of the Renaissance,
studded with pearls and precious stones, a gift of the princely family
of Schwarzenberg. Within the same cathedral, in the tabernacle of the
chapel of St. Ludmilla, wife of the first Duke of Bohemia, is the head
of that saint, bearing a crown studded with 1800 pearls.[448]

The crown of Vladimir, with its singular and thoroughly Russian form, is
preserved in the treasury of the Kremlin at Moscow, and has been used at
the coronation of all the Russian emperors. It has borne the name of the
crown or cap of Monomachus from the reign of Ivan IV. Although, to judge
from this designation, the crown was probably executed in the twelfth or
thirteenth century, there is a legend to the effect that it was sent, in
988, from Byzantium by the ruler as a gift to St. Vladimir. It is
executed in filigree work, and is surmounted by a plain cross with four
pearls at the extremities; between these pearls are set a topaz, a
sapphire, and a ruby. The crown itself is ornamented with four emeralds,
four rubies, and twenty-five pearls from Ormus, set in gold. The cap has
a bordering of sable fur, and is lined with red satin. (See Maskell,
“Russian Art,” London, 1884, p. 125.)

The imperial state crown of her Majesty Queen Victoria, was made in the
year 1838 by Messrs. Rondell and Bridge, with jewels taken from old
crowns, and others furnished by command of her Majesty. It consisted of
diamonds, pearls, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds, set in silver and
gold. It had a crimson velvet cap with ermine border, and was lined with
white silk. Its gross weight was thirty-nine ounces five pennyweights
troy. The lower part of the band above the ermine border consisted of a
row of 129 pearls, and the upper part of a row of 112 pearls; between
these rows, in the front of the crown, was a large sapphire (partly
drilled) purchased for the crown by his Majesty George IV. In the front
of the crown, and in the center of a diamond Maltese cross, was the
famous ruby said to have been given to Edward, Prince of Wales (the
Black Prince), by Don Pedro, King of Castile, after the battle of
Nájera, near Vittoria, 1367 A.D. This ruby was worn in the helmet of
Henry V at the battle of Agincourt, 1415 A.D. It was pierced quite
through, after the eastern custom, the upper part of the piercing being
filled up by a small ruby. From the Maltese cross issued four imperial
arches composed of oak leaves and acorns, thirty-two pearls forming the
acorns. From the upper part of the arches were suspended four large
pendant, pear-shaped pearls with rose diamond cups.[449] Writing in
1850, Barbot, the French jeweler, placed the value of this crown at
$600,000.

The crown of St. Edward, the official crown of England, is used at each
coronation.[450] The original crown of this name was destroyed by the
republicans in 1649, but at the time of the coronation of Charles II,
another crown was made to take its place, under the direction of Sir
Robert Viner. As far as can be known, this crown was an exact copy of
the older one, which was worn by Edward the Confessor, and perhaps even
by King Alfred. The crown in use at present is of gold, richly studded
with pearls and precious stones of various kinds: diamonds, rubies,
emeralds, and sapphires. There is a mound of gold on top, and on this a
cross of gold ornamented with very large oval pearls, one attached to
the top and the two others pendant from the ends of the cross. The
present arrangement of the jewels cannot date back earlier than 1689, as
the crown was found to be despoiled of them at the time of the accession
of William and Mary. Those now in the crown are acknowledged to be
inferior to the former ones.

The orb or mound which is placed in the king’s hand immediately after
his coronation, is a ball of gold, six inches in diameter, surrounded by
a band of the same metal ornamented with roses of diamonds set around
other precious stones, and bordered with pearls. It is surmounted by a
cross, embellished with four larger pearls at the angles near its
center, and three others at the ends. The orb, including the cross, is
eleven inches high, and it is figured on the coins of many of the
English kings, who are represented holding it in their left hands.

The regalia of Scotland,[451] consisting of the crown, scepter, and
sword of state, are preserved in the castle of Edinburgh. It is not
certainly known at what time this crown was executed. At the coronation
of Robert Bruce (1274–1329) a simple circlet of gold was used; this fell
into the hands of the English after the battle of Methven in 1306. In
1307 Edward I issued a pardon at the request of his “beloved Queen
Margarate,” to a certain Galfredus de Coigniers, who was said to have
concealed and kept “a certain coronet of gold with which Robert the
Bruce, enemy and rebel of the King, had caused himself to be crowned in
our own Kingdom of Scotland.”

Sir Walter Scott, in his account of the regalia, gives it as his opinion
that the present crown was probably made for Robert Bruce at a later
date, and that it was used at the coronation of his son, David II
(1324–1376). The style of workmanship indicates a fourteenth-century
origin. The crown was originally open and was arched over by James V
(1512–1542). As Scott notes, this was done to many royal crowns in the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, in order to assimilate them to the
type of the old imperial crowns.

The following description is slightly abridged from that given by Sir
Walter Scott:

The lower part consists of two circles, the undermost much broader
than that which rises over it; both are of the purest gold and the
uppermost is surmounted by a range of _fleur-de-lis_ interchanged
with crosses _fleurées_, and with knobs or pinnacles of gold topped
with large pearls; this produces a very rich effect. The under and
broader circle is adorned with twenty-two precious stones, betwixt
each of which is interposed an oriental pearl. The stones are
topazes, amethysts, emeralds, rubies and jacinths; they are not
polished by the lapidary, or cut into facets in the more modern
fashion, but are set plain, in the ancient style of jewellers’ work.
The smaller circle is adorned with small diamonds and sapphires
alternately. These two circles, thus ornamented, seem to have formed
the original Diadem or Crown of Scotland, until the reign of James
V, who added two imperial arches rising from the circle, and
crossing each other, closing at the top in a mound of gold, which
again is surmounted by a large cross _patée_ ornamented with pearls
and bearing the characters J.R.V. These additional arches are
attached to the original crown by tacks of gold, and there is some
inferiority in the quality of the metal.

The bonnet or tiara worn under the crown was anciently of purple,
but is now of crimson velvet, turned up with ermine—a change first
adopted in the year 1695. The tiara is adorned with four superb
pearls set in gold, and fastened in the velvet which appears between
the arches. The crown measures about nine inches in diameter,
twenty-seven in circumference, and about six and a half in height
from the bottom of the lower circle to the top of the cross.

The scepter, made by order of James V at the time he added the arches to
the crown, is a slender silver rod about thirty-nine inches long. An
antique capital of embossed leaves supports three small figures
representing the Virgin Mary, St. Andrew, and St. James, above which is
a crystal ball, surmounted by an oriental pearl.

The regalia have passed through many vicissitudes. After the execution
of Charles I, his son Charles II was crowned King of Scotland at Scone
on January 1, 1651. On the advance of the parliamentary army into
Scotland, the regalia were placed in the care of the Earl Mareschal who
preserved them in his castle of Dunrottar, and here they were kept until
the castle was besieged and on the point of falling into the hands of
the English. In this extremity, they were rescued by Christian Fletcher,
wife of the Rev. James Granger, minister of Kinneff. She obtained
permission from the English general to pay a visit to the Lady Mareschal
and succeeded in carrying off the regalia. Her husband buried them in
the church of Kinneff, just in front of the pulpit. When they were
brought to light again after the Restoration, an Act of Parliament was
passed which, after reciting Christian Fletcher’s services in the
matter, stated: “Therefore, the King’s Majestie, with advice of his
estates in Parliament, doe appoint Two Thousand Merks Scots to be
forthwith paid unto her by his Majestie’s thresaurer, out of the
readiest of his Majestie’s rents, as a testimony of their sense of her
service.”

In 1707, after the union of England and Scotland, it was considered
wiser to remove the regalia from public view, since they were calculated
to arouse memories of the old Scotch monarchy. These precious objects
were therefore inclosed in a chest, which was their usual receptacle,
and locked up in the crown-room, a strong vaulted apartment in Edinburgh
Castle. There the regalia remained until 1817, when, as doubts had been
expressed as to their existence, a commission of investigation was
appointed, one of the members being Sir Walter Scott. The chest—which
had probably been the jewel-safe of the Stuarts—was forced open, and the
regalia were found within, just as they had been deposited in 1707.

An imperial German crown does not exist; a design has been made and
accepted, but at the present date, 1907, it has not yet been executed.
On festive occasions, when the imperial insignia are necessary, the
Prussian insignia are used, especially the Prussian royal crown. This
consists of a circlet of gold set with thirteen diamonds. On this are
five leaves, each composed of three larger diamonds and a smaller one,
and four prongs, each bearing a diamond and above it a large pearl. From
the five leaves start the same number of semicircular arches, tapering
toward the central point, where they unite. Each of these is set with
ten diamonds of decreasing size. On the center rests an imperial globe.
It consists of a large Indian-cut sapphire,—the counterpart of the one
on the Austrian imperial crown, evidently dating from the time of the
Crusades,—and above it rises a chaplet ornamented with diamonds. The
crown has a lining of purple velvet reaching to the arches. Between the
arches are eight pearl pendants of an average weight of 80 grains; they
are 25 millimeters in length, and have a fine, brilliant white color,
although they are not perfectly regular in form.

In addition there belongs to the regalia a pearl necklace of three rows;
the first consists of thirty-seven pearls averaging 28 grains each; the
second of thirty-nine pearls averaging 34 grains, and the third of
forty-five pearls averaging 39 grains. There is also a guard chain of
114 pearls, averaging 20 grains, making a total of 2280 grains for the
chain. These pearls are also of irregular form.[452]

The crown jewels of the Sultan Abdul-Aziz (1830–1876) were of immense
richness and value. At the exhibition in Vienna, 1873, many of these
were exhibited in a building created specially for the purposes of
display and protection. They were in five compartments, in what might be
termed five impregnable fire-proof safes of a peculiar construction.
Among other interesting objects was the armor of Sultan Murad I
(1319–1389), the founder of the Ottoman empire in Europe. This armor is
of the most delicate oriental workmanship. Diamonds, pearls, and rubies
are worked broadcast over it with exquisite taste.[453]

In Germany and Austro-Hungary there are many valuable ecclesiastical
ornaments, some of which possess great interest for the history of early
German art. They also serve to show the appreciation of the pearl even
in the Dark Ages and the Early Renaissance period.

One of the most curious productions of early German art is a reliquary
in the form of a sack, which is from Enger near Herford, and is
exhibited in the Kunstgewerbe Museum in Berlin. It is set with cameos
and pearls; several of the latter have dropped out; a few, however,
remain in their setting. According to a very probable tradition, this
reliquary was given by Charlemagne to the Saxon duke, Wittekind, on the
occasion of his baptism in 785. It is of very rude and primitive
workmanship and, if we accept the tradition, it is not unlikely that it
was executed at Aix-la-Chapelle.[454]

An interesting example of German art, from the time of Archbishop Egbert
of Treves (977–993), is a frame now in the Beuth-Schinkel Museum, at
Charlottenburg. This was probably the framework of a portable altar. It
is decorated with a simple geometrical design in the three primary
colors, and has four polished stones and four pearls on the outer border
of gold filigree. Another example of the art of Treves at the time of
Archbishop Egbert is the Echternacher Codex. The gold-plated cover is a
worthy product of the school: ivory, enamel, and mosaic are combined in
its decoration with rows of pearls. Among the representations of many
saints, appears the figure of the Empress Theophanu, daughter of the
Greek emperor, Romanos II, with the inscription “Theophaniu imp.”
Opposite is a youthful figure, probably that of her son, Otho III. It
seems likely that the work was executed, at the command of the empress,
between 983 and 991.[455]

In the cathedral of Treves is the portable altar known as the altar of
St. Andrew. This was primarily a reliquary and secondarily an altar. In
memory of the relic of the sandal of St. Andrew, which was greatly
prized by Archbishop Egbert, this altar bears the representation of a
foot executed in wood and covered with plates of gold. The front of the
case is divided into three fields; that in the middle containing a
Byzantine lion in gold relief, and the others the symbols of the four
evangelists in enamel work. The border is formed of rectangular pieces
of enamel and smaller ones of gold, and it is set with round stones
alternating with half-pearls; the ends are covered with filigree and
enamel work wherein are embedded strings of pearls. A coin of Justinian
II is set in the middle of the back of the case and is surrounded by a
wreath of larger pearls.[456]

A gold cross, the work of Rogkerus Theophilus, is in the Kunstgewerbe
Museum in Berlin, and comes from Herford. The frame, which is of wood,
is covered with plates of gold; at the extremities and in the center are
groups of precious stones surrounded by pearls; at the base is a fine
Augustan cameo with a wreath of pearls; the entire cross is covered with
filigree work and decorated with pearls in groups of threes. The
arrangement of the precious stones, and the enhancement of their beauty
by means of the circles of pearls, are highly artistic. As a work of
Rogkerus, this cross must have been executed at the very end of the
eleventh century and it may be regarded as one of the finest examples of
the art of this period.[457]

A very rich collection of ecclesiastical ornaments is contained in the
treasury of the cathedral of Gran in Hungary.[458] One of the most
interesting objects is a reliquary in the form of a Latin cross, which
is of great historical and artistic value. An inventory made after 1528
describes it briefly: “crux aurea continens lignum vitae” (a gold cross
containing the wood of life). Although this reliquary probably belongs
to the end of the twelfth century, the inventory of 1659 describes it as
a gift of King Stephen, and proceeds to say that the kings of Hungary
took their coronation oath upon it. This custom has been preserved to
the present day, and Emperor Francis Joseph, on the occasion of his
coronation as King of Hungary, June 8, 1867, swore, upon this cross, to
uphold the constitution and the laws of the land. The cross is decorated
with plates of gold in filigree design, and has four en cabochon cut
sapphires and eighteen oriental pearls.

The greatest treasure of the collection is known as the cross of
Corvinus, King of Hungary, and is decorated with a great number of
pearls.[459] It is a remarkable example of early Italian Renaissance
art. The entire structure is about twenty-eight inches high; the
pedestal is triangular and ornamented with pearls and precious stones;
three sphinxes bearing shields with the arms of Corvinus support a disk
from which springs a triangular support sloping outward; on the three
sides are mythological figures. Upon this base rests the chapel, a light
Gothic structure with the figure of the Saviour bound to a pillar in the
center, and the busts of three prophets in the niches outside. Above all
is the crucifix, on each side of which are figures of the Blessed Virgin
and of St. John. Around the base and about each division of this
elaborate design is a row of pearls; the Gothic chapel is surmounted by
a close-set row, and each of its six pinnacles terminates in an oval
pearl. The cross itself has fifteen large pearls disposed in twos and
threes, and many smaller ones. There are at least two hundred pearls on
the whole structure.

Another cross, with the arms of the primate, George Szolepchényi, and
bearing the date 1667, is of pure design and richly decorated with
pearls and precious stones.[460] It is quite possible that this cross,
which seems to belong to a better period, was bought by the archbishop,
who afterward added his arms. There are thirteen oriental pearls, three
at the top, three at the end of each of the arms, and four at the
intersection. This cross was used as an “instrumentum pacis,” for the
kiss of peace, on solemn occasions such as coronations.

We may also note the pendant with the image of the Virgin Mary as
patroness of Hungary, which is of gold enamel and has two pendant pearls
and a sapphire, and likewise the pectoral cross of the primate, Emerich
Losy; this is of gold, decorated with green, blue, and black enamel, and
has three pendant pear-shaped pearls, one quite large, as well as
thirty-four smaller round pearls.

Among the many valuable and interesting objects in the treasury of the
house and chapel of Maria Loretto am Hradschin,[461] at Prague, there is
a monstrance of silver-gilt, thirty-seven and a half inches high and
fifteen and three quarter inches wide. It dates from the beginning of
the eighteenth century, and is not a harmonious whole, but only a
combination of different ornaments of precious stones, corals, and
several hundred pearls of various sizes. All these are the devotional
offerings of now unknown givers, and many of the pieces are of artistic
workmanship. This monstrance owes its origin to Josef von Bilin, who was
a monk of the Capuchin order and a sacristan of Maria Loretto. On
account of the many pearls which adorn it, it is known by the name of
the “Pearl Monstrance.”

Another monstrance of Arabic gold, of the year 1680, is twenty inches
high and is studded with fifty-one pearls, of which twenty-nine surround
the disk, while the remainder are on the plate and the base. There are
also two crowns of silver-gilt for the statues of the Virgin and of the
Infant Jesus. The larger of these crowns has eighteen diamonds, a ruby,
and 102 pearls set in two rows; while the smaller has nineteen diamonds
and a great number of pearls; both crowns are made up of the offerings
of the faithful.

In a historic description of the pearls in the treasury of the Kremlin,
Margeret, a Burgundian captain (“Estat de l’empire de Russie,” 1649),
says that the treasury was “full of all kinds of jewels, principally
pearls, for they are worn in Russia more than in the rest of Europe. I
have seen fifty changes of raiment for the emperors around each of which
there were jewels for a bordering, and the robes were entirely bordered
with pearls, some with a border of pearls measuring a foot, half a foot,
or four inches in width. I have seen dozens of bed-coverings embroidered
with pearls.”[462]

In the treasury of the celebrated Troiza Monastery near Moscow, there is
an immense collection of ornamental objects for ecclesiastical use, the
value of which has been estimated at many millions of rubles. Here may
be seen miters and bishops’ crooks—many of them of solid gold and set
with precious stones—Bibles and missals in golden bindings, priestly
vestments, altar-cloths, etc., all literally covered with pearls. There
is also a dish filled with large pearls of enormous value.[463]

The use of fresh-water pearls in one of the most interesting
ecclesiastical objects of antiquity is shown in the “Shrine of St.
Patrick’s Gospels,” which is in the Dublin Museum. It was purchased by
the Irish Royal Academy in 1845 for £300 ($1500). This shrine, known as
the “domnach airgid,” is of Irish manufacture and was perhaps made in
the eleventh or twelfth century. It was found in the neighborhood of
Clones, in County Monaghan, and is ornamented with three bosses which
contained uncut crystals, and are decorated with figures of grotesque
animals and traceries enameled in blue paste; between these may be seen
representations of four horsemen. On each of the four corners there was
a fresh-water pearl, one of which still remains in its setting.
According to George Petrie, LL.D., in his “Christian Inscriptions in the
Irish Language,” the shrine bears an inscription to the effect that it
was made by John O’Barrdan at the instance of John O’Carbry, Abbot of
Clones, who died in 1353.

Dr. R. F. Scharff informs us that there is also in the Dublin Museum a
modern Celtic gold brooch, presented to Queen Victoria on the occasion
of her visit to Ireland in 1849, and containing a pearl of beautiful
luster, discovered in Lough Esk, which is in the western part of
Ireland. Dr. Scharff says that this pearl is undoubtedly from the
_Margaritifera margaritifera_.

Mr. W. Forbes Howie of Dublin writes that the shrine of O’Donnel, made
in 1084, originally contained pearls. It still retains some pieces of
amber and coral. Mr. Howie believes that fresh-water pearls were freely
used in the decoration of ancient Irish shrines.

The inventories of jewels and ornaments belonging to the kings and
queens of France, to the nobility, and to the treasures of the
Sainte-Chapelle, in Paris, and of the abbey and church of St. Denis, all
mention a large number of objects decorated with pearls.[464] The more
important of these are given below.

The following ornaments decorated with pearls are mentioned in the
inventory of Louis, Duke of Anjou, which was made _circa_ 1360:[465]

A large silver-gilt foot for a vase or chalice, resting upon six
lions couchant, and set with groups of four pearls with a garnet in
the middle.

A half girdle of gold with a hinge bearing two ornaments, one a
balas set between two eagles. Between the ornaments is a gold bar
set with eight pearls in two rows. In front is a clasp with a large
sapphire in the middle, surrounded by two balases and two sapphires
alternating with pearls.

A gold brooch having a balas-ruby in the middle, and at each side
four sapphires and four clusters each of five quite large pearls.

A gold brooch of a very pretty design, with five balas-rubies, two
sapphires, and eight very round pearls weighing about four carats
each. At each end of the brooch is a flat pearl weighing about five
carats.

There is in the Bibliothèque Nationale[466] in Paris, the original
record of the execution of the testament of the Comte de Montpensier,
son of the Duc de Berri. This document was written in 1398, and it
mentions that the sale of the jewels and plate of the count produced the
sum of “2390 livres tournois 11 sols 3 deniers [about $8265].” In the
record we have a description of “a large gold cup, weighing 5 marcs, 7
ounces, 1 gros [nearly 3 lbs.], whereon there is a crown of precious
stones.” The decoration of the cup comprised thirty large pearls, six
balas-rubies, and four sapphires, and we are told that the Duc de Berri
retained it for his own use.

An early mention of the use of pearls in rings occurs in the inventory
of the Duc de Berri,[467] to whom we have just referred. This inventory,
which was made in 1416, notes a gold ring with black enamel, set with a
pearl called “the great pearl of Berri.”

The inventory of the personal property of Marguerite, Countess of
Flanders, the mother of the Duke of Burgundy, was made in 1405.[468] In
this inventory we have a list of an immense number of ornamental objects
of every sort and kind, and everything, from the ducal crown to the
smallest trinket, is garnished with pearls. In most cases the number of
pearls is given, and we find that no less than 4494 are enumerated.
Evidently the duchess was ever ready to honor the precious gem to which
she owed her name, and fully recognized its poetical significance. The
following are a few of the more noteworthy ornaments in the inventory:

The circlet of the great crown, composed of eight sections; four of
which each comprise sixteen pearls, four diamonds, and four
balas-rubies, with a sapphire in the center; the four others contain
sixteen pearls, four diamonds, and four sapphires, with a balas-ruby
in the center; beside this there are two pearls in each section.
Also, eight large fleurons of the great crown, four of which bear
each twenty-three pearls, five diamonds, three balas-rubies and a
sapphire, and the other four each twenty-three pearls, five
diamonds, four sapphires, and a balas-ruby; and eight small fleurons
of the said crown garnished each with a pearl, a sapphire, and a
balas-ruby. The whole is valued at 8724 florins ($22,682).

A gold cap with ten large ornaments fashioned like brooches, five of
which are each of six pearls and a balas-ruby, and the other five
each of five pearls and two balas-rubies, and between each ornament
there is a balas-ruby. This is appraised at 2159 florins ($5613).

A head-dress garnished with balas-rubies and sapphires and tassels
of large pearls, each of six pearls, and with a row of larger
balas-rubies, larger sapphires and larger pearls. This was estimated
at 2030 florins ($5278).

A gold necklace, enameled white and green, garnished with nine
rubies, thirteen diamonds and thirteen pearls, with a clasp of three
small rubies, and three large pearls with one large diamond in the
center. The worth of this necklace is given as 1923 florins ($5000).

The jewels and ornamental objects in this inventory are appraised at
the sum of 56,129 florins,—about $145,000,—equivalent to a much
larger sum to-day in consideration of the greater purchasing power
of money in the fifteenth century.

In 1480, during the reign of Louis XI, an inventory was made of the
objects preserved in the treasury of the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris.[469]
We select the following items from this inventory:

A very beautiful cross, covered with gold, bearing on one side a
crystal reliquary which contained a piece of the True Cross. On
supports attached to the cross were images of the Virgin Mary and of
St. John, each holding a reliquary. The cross itself rested on a
square silver-gilt base bearing the images of the four evangelists.
The ornamentation consisted of fifty large Scotch pearls and 142
small ones, intermixed with garnets and emeralds; there were also
many balas-rubies and sapphires of different sizes. The inventory
says: “The goldsmith Nicholas Roet declares that the stones are
genuine and that the pearls are from Scotland.”

Another gold cross, resting on a silver-gilt base which bore the
arms of France and Burgundy, was decorated with fourteen sapphires,
twenty balas-rubies, and twenty-four Scotch pearls. On the base were
the figures of St. Louis and of the queen, kneeling in prayer.

Still another cross, covered with gold and of Venetian workmanship,
bore thirty-nine pearls, twenty-seven balas-rubies, and four
sapphires. A clasp attached to this cross was set with four large
perforated pearls surrounded by small emeralds and sapphires.

A silver-gilt ornament, consisting of a golden image of St. Louis
seated on a silver throne and holding in his hand a reliquary
decorated with twelve pearls, six emeralds, and six Alexandrian
rubies. The crown of the image was set with four large oriental
pearls, three balas-rubies, etc.

An ivory image of the Virgin Mary, supported by a silver-gilt base
with the arms of France. This base was borne by four lions. On the
head of the Virgin was a crown of gold adorned with eight large,
round, oriental pearls and four small ones, as well as four emeralds
and four balas-rubies. On the breast of the image was a very large,
square emerald.

A splendid miter studded with good-sized pearls and decorated with
emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and balas-rubies. The pendants were
covered with seed-pearls and precious stones.

A fine chasuble of Indian satin lined with crimson taffeta and
covered with lilies, birds, unicorns, etc., embroidered in gold and
pearls. It was also adorned with small clusters of pearls and with
two shields bearing the arms of France and Navarre, quartered.

A beautiful copy of the gospels with covers of gold, ornamented with
fourteen large sapphires, thirteen balas-rubies, two cameos, and
eighty-nine good-sized pearls.

The following items are taken from the inventory of the treasury of the
abbey of St. Denis, made in 1534, during the reign of Francis I. This
record is in the Bibliothèque Nationale, in Paris:[470]

A crown of gold, with four fleurons, garnished with several
balas-rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and pearls; valued at 59,980
crowns (about $135,000).

A golden cross and within it a piece of the True Cross which
belonged to “Jeanne d’Evreux, royne de France et de Navarre,”
valued, with the pearls that decorate it, at 345 crowns ($776).

A wooden chest containing eleven cases in which were many precious
stones and large and small pearls, both oriental and Scotch; valued
at 1858 crowns ($4180).

A number of priestly vestments embroidered with seed-pearls are
inventoried at 1200 crowns ($2700).

A blue satin chasuble bordered with pearls is valued at 350 crowns
($787).

An altar-table, set in the “grand altar,” is described as
elaborately decorated with “arches and pillars and images of gold”
in low relief, and garnished with precious stones and pearls. The
value is given as 1203 crowns ($2700).

Another altar-table similarly ornamented is valued at 2645 crowns
($5850). Above this table was a great cross of gold with a silver
border, called the “cross of St. Eloysius” (the patron saint of
goldsmiths); this was valued at 2291 crowns ($5154).

Over the sarcophagus containing the body of St. Denis, there was “a
large tabernacle of wood-work resembling a church, with a lofty nave
and low arches.” In this nave and in the transepts there were three
representations of sarcophagi; the whole was covered with gold,
precious stones, and pearls, and was valued at 7275 crowns
($16,368).

The head of St. Denis, incased in gold, was borne by two silver-gilt
angels, while a third held a small shrine containing a portion of
the jaw-bone of the saint. All these objects were studded with
precious stones and pearls, and were valued at 5622 crowns
($12,650).

There were also in the treasury several miters covered with
“ounce-pearls” and decorated with gold and silver bands; on this
field several larger pearls were set. One of these miters is valued
at 964 crowns ($2169) and another at 509 crowns ($1135).

The total value of the articles inventoried is 185,500 crowns (at
least $417,375).

Inventories of the property of the dukes of Lorraine, dated 1544, 1552,
and 1614, mention a number of pearl ornaments. In the inventory of 1544,
made about the time of the accession of Francis I of Lorraine, we read
of “a very fine case of silver-gilt around which are thirteen personages
in gold, and on the lock three balases and five pearls.” The inventory
of 1552, made while Charles II was duke, mentions “a cap of crimson
velvet whereon there are large pearls,” and another cap “entirely
covered with pearls.” It is, however, in the inventory of 1614, made a
few years after the accession of Henry II of Lorraine, that we find the
greatest number of items relating to pearls. An estimate of the value of
the rings and jewels was “faicte du commandement de son Altèze par
jouailliers et Lapidaires et Espertz dudit ars.” All these jewels were
to remain forever the property of the Duchy of Lorraine. Among the items
relating to pearls, the following are worthy of note:

A gold collar with seven settings, each containing one large diamond
and two large pearls. The diamond in the center was believed to
weigh fifteen carats, and the collar was valued at 35,000 crowns
(about $70,000).

Another collar contained seven diamonds and sixteen pearls set in
pairs, and was considered to be worth 19,750 crowns (about $40,000).

A collection of one hundred large pearls, some weighing twenty
grains, some twenty-four, some twenty-eight, and a few thirty-two
grains, were estimated at 12,000 crowns ($24,000).

A large pearl, very nearly pear-shaped and almost as large as a
pigeon’s egg, was set down at 2000 crowns ($4000).

A very fine pear-shaped pearl weighing forty-eight grains was valued
at 800 crowns ($1600).

Another pear-shaped pearl weighing about thirty-two grains was
placed at 500 crowns ($1000).

Four other pear-shaped pearls, nearly as large as the one above
mentioned, were estimated at 300 crowns ($600), while a round “pearl
of Seville” was valued at only fifty crowns ($100).

Six clusters of pearls, each containing two of fourteen grains, and
four of eight grains, were thought to be worth 700 crowns ($1400).

A large chalice was decorated with seven large oriental emeralds and
eight clusters, each composed of fourteen fine, round pearls, six of
twelve grains and eight of eight grains; the whole valued at 2400
crowns ($4800).

A hat ornament composed of eleven fine rubies and ten large, round
pearls, each weighing twelve grains, was estimated at 800 crowns
($1600).

A similar ornament, composed of thirteen rubies and fourteen pearls,
partly flat and partly round, was placed at 2000 crowns ($4000).

A collar set with seven fine rubies and the same number of round
pearls, each weighing twelve grains, and with seven other pendant
pearls, was valued at 550 crowns ($1100).

There was also a bed called the “bed of pearls,” which was
elaborately decorated with ornamentation in gold and richly studded
with pearls.

The inventory made in 1634 of the ornaments, etc., contained in the
abbey of St. Denis, offers some new material and a fuller description of
a few of the objects mentioned in the inventory of 1534. The most
noteworthy entries are given below:

A golden scepter upon a staff of wood. The scepter bears the figure
of Charlemagne seated upon a throne; at the corners are two lions
and two eagles (one of the latter was lacking in 1634). The figure
holds a scepter in its right hand, and a globe surmounted by a cross
in its left; on its head is a crown with a large, round, oriental
pearl valued at 200 livres ($135). The throne rested on a
fleur-de-lys, beneath which was a ball of gold ornamented with eight
oriental pearls. Around the throne was the inscription: “Sanctus
Carolus Magnus Italia Roma Gallia Germania,” and three clusters of
three pearls each. The value of this scepter was given at 3300
livres, or about $2200.

The reliquary of the hand of St. Thomas. Two angels, resting on a
silver-gilt base, bore the crystal receptacle containing the relic.
The ornamentation consisted of eight clusters of four large pearls
each, with a small diamond in the center. On the hand was a gold
band bearing the inscription: “Hic est manus beati Thomae apti. quam
misit in latus domini nostri Jesu Christi.” On the hand was a
pontifical ring set with a large sapphire. The reliquary also bore
the images of St. John the Baptist, of St. Thomas, and of the Virgin
Mary. It was valued at 5590 livres, or about $3700.

A vessel made of a porphyry resembling jasper and embellished with
forty-six pearls; estimated at 1500 livres ($1000).

A cope given by Anne of Bretagne, Queen of France, and bearing six
scenes from the life of the Virgin Mary embroidered in gold and
pearls; the whole bordered with pearls and gold of Cyprus. On the
cope were the letters A and S, and the words “plutost mourir.” There
were two ounces of pearls. Valued at 2000 livres ($1350).

A vase of rock crystal, of antique workmanship, with a cover and
base of silver-gilt; the top decorated with a band of amethysts,
garnets, and sapphires, alternating with Scotch and oriental pearls.
On the base are various precious stones and twenty-three Scotch and
oriental pearls, and the inscription “Hoc vas sponsa dedit Anor.
regi Ludovico.” This vase was given by Eleanor of Aquitaine to her
husband, Louis VII of France (1137–1180), by whom it was bestowed
upon Suger, Abbot of St. Denis (1082–1152). The goldsmith work and
decoration belong to the time of Suger. The vase is now in the
Louvre.

A chalice of agate, with two handles, and engraved with the figures
of men, animals, and birds. It stood on a foot of gold adorned with
sixteen sapphires, forty-four pearls, and twenty-two clusters of
fourteen pearls each. This chalice rested upon a paten of porphyry
decorated with seven fishes inlaid in gold, and with a bordering of
pearls and precious stones disposed around the edge. Both together
valued at 25,000 livres (about $16,000).

A vase of agate with a foot of silver-gilt, and furnished with a
cover and a spout in the form of a serpent, both of silver-gilt.
Around the base an inscription: “Dum libare deo gemmis debemus et
auro, Hoc ego Sugerus offero vas domino” (Since we should pour
libations to God out of gems and gold, I, Suger, offer this vessel
to the Lord). This vase, which is now in the Louvre and is of
sardonyx, was enriched with many precious stones and with nineteen
Scotch and oriental pearls. The value given was 1500 livres (about
$1000).

A book beginning: “Kyrie Eleison,” with covers of wood, one overlaid
with gold and the other with silver. On the golden cover was an
ivory crucifix, and images, in ivory, of the Virgin Mary and of St.
John. The cross was bordered with seed-pearls, as were the diadems
of the images. The cover was also decorated with an engraved
crysolite, an engraved peridot, and with sapphires, emeralds, and
garnets.[471]

A curious item regarding the use of pearls in embroidery is contained in
one of the inventories of the dukes of Burgundy, made in 1414; this
reads as follows:

The sum of 276 livres 7 sols 6 deniers tournois (about $960), the
price of 960 pearls destined to ornament a dress; along the sleeves
are embroidered the words of the song “Madame, je suis joyeulx,” and
the notes are also marked along the sleeves. On each sleeve are 264
pearls which help in forming the notes of the said song, numbering
142; that is to say, a square made of four pearls for each
note.[472]

Mention is made in two old French documents of the use of pearls from
Compiegne in ornamentation. In the “Inventaire de la royne Clémence,” in
1328, we read of “a cock covered with precious stones and bearing a
pearl of Compiègne”; and in the “Comptes Royaux,” under date of 1353,
appears this item: “For four pearls, oriental, Scotch and of Compiègne,
for the said arm-chair, 48 crowns.” As these pearls could not have been
found in Compiègne, we may suppose that there was a market for their
sale in that place, which gave rise to the designation.[473]

The English authority and writer on early English silver, F. Alfred
Jones, communicated, under date of September, 1907, that pearls were
rarely used in old English plate; in fact, any such embellishments were
of exceedingly infrequent occurrence. They are, however, frequently
mentioned in the inventory of the marvelous collection of gold plate
dispersed by Charles I of England, which may have dated from the time of
the looting of the churches and monasteries by Henry VIII.

The following items are from the inventories of Philip II of Spain and
of Margarita, wife of Philip III. The original documents are in the
Austrian archives.

A golden cup which came from England. Around the foot was a wreath
of fifteen fleurons, each containing pearls, and also four St.
Andrew’s crosses comprising eighteen pearls each. The interior of
the cup showed scenes from the life of St. George and was studded
with pearls, while thirty-one pearl pendants hung from the edge.
11,897 reals (about $1700).[474]

Some curious jewels, belonging to Queen Margarita, wife of Philip III of
Spain, were entered in an inventory made in 1611.

An imperial eagle, full of diamonds, that came from England, with
two pendants of two pearls, which could be unhooked from the said
eagle and were worn by her Majesty at two masks as earrings. Valued
at 77,000 reals (about $11,000).

Gold earrings, enameled in various colors, with seven diamonds in
each one and three pendant pearls, two small ones of equal size and
the other shaped like a pear. Valued at 1320 reals ($188).[475]

In the older Spanish jewelry pearls were frequently entirely pierced
through, as if they had been worn in necklaces; and if hung as drops of
one to three or more, they were strung on a wire, the upper end usually
forming an ornament, and they were kept from falling off below by
flattening the lower end of the wire, this flattening acting as a stop.
These styles have a marked resemblance to the oriental methods elsewhere
described, and suggest the derivation of the early Spanish pearl
mounting from the Moorish occupation of the country. If they were set
singly on any part of the jewel, they were put on a wire peg fastened to
it, and then the end of the wire which projected was hammered flat to
keep the pearl in place. Excellent examples of these styles are the
Spanish earrings in the collection of the Hispano-American Museum of New
York. The same method was used in Transylvania in the seventeenth
century with remarkably artistic effect.

The pearls of the Virgin of the Rosary in the church of St. Domingo,
Lima, were famous. It is believed that they were sold in the war of
independence. Those of the monstrance in the sanctuary of the cathedral
of Lima were sold during the last war with Chile. The monstrance of the
cathedral of Cuzco still shows pearls and emeralds, but they are of
small size.

A lady who left a great fortune in pearls to the church of Nazareno and
the House of the Poor of the church of St. Peter, Lima, was Doña Maria
Fernandez de Córdoba, from the family of Borda, grandmother to the
minister of Peru in Washington. She was a descendant of Hernan Cortés
and of Pizarro by her ancestor Carmen Cortés.

The pearls of Lima figure prominently in the history of the Peruvian
families. The war of independence, which ended in 1822, was followed by
the suppression of the entailed estates; this forced a division of the
family fortunes, and it became necessary to sell the family jewels in
Europe. Thither went all the famous pearls of the Peruvian aristocracy,
whose luxury is proven by the fact that in 1780 there were in Lima no
less than two thousand private carriages.

One of the most remarkable uses of Bohemian pearls was that of a large
triptych owned by Count Moritz of Lobkowitz and Duke of Raudnitz. It
measured six or more feet in height. The entire borders were ornamented
with pearls. The center of the triptych represented the ascension of
Christ on a chariot drawn by lambs. In the panel to the right was the
Angel Gabriel, and to the left the Virgin Mary praying. The borders and
lettering were magnificently embroidered and decorated in Bohemian
pearls. This object probably dated from the sixteenth or early part of
the seventeenth century. It was estimated by one of the authors to
contain at least one hundred thousand pearls.

Madame Zelie Nuttal, the great Maya scholar, personally writes that
pearls are not mentioned either as articles of tribute or of decoration
in ancient Mexican codices; possibly a lack of fine, hard instruments
with which to drill holes in pearls may have caused them to be
comparatively little used in personal adornment. Neither do they appear
to have been found incrusted in prehistoric objects, and we have no
written evidence of their having been used in this way. We do not know
of any instances of the wearing of pearls by the Indian women, but the
women of the higher classes used to wear them profusely, more especially
drop-earrings and pendants. Madame Nuttal also communicates as follows:

Bernadino de Sahagun states: “There are also pearls in New Spain,
and they are familiar to everybody. They are named epyollotti,[476]
which means the heart of the shell, because they are formed in the
shell of the oyster.” In Molina’s dictionary “seed-pearls” are named
“piciltic epyollotti,” which means “water-stars,” a poetical name,
composed of the word a = att = water, and cittallin = star. The
latter name leads us to infer the possibility that the “star-skirt,
or skirt of, or with stars,” the “cittallin icue” of the living
image of the goddess “Tlamateculitti” was decorated with _pearls_,
although it is only described (Book II, chap. 36) as being “of
leather, cut into strips at the bottom (forming a fringe), at the
end of each of which hung a small shell named ‘cueclitti’ which
reproduced a sound when she walked.” As it is stated that this
“star-skirt” was worn over “a white one” it seems as though it must
have been of the kind, represented in codices and sculptures, made
of openwork and netlike, and studded with round objects—possibly
pearls—at the crossings or in the centers of the open spaces.

Oil-paintings of the madonnas represent them with robes richly
embroidered with pearls, and wearing “ropes of pearls.” The Virgin of
the Rosario, in the church at Santo Domingo, Mexico, was noted for her
pearls, and there is a small oil-painting of this virgin, in which she
is depicted with a wealth of pearls.

In the Bohemian National Exposition, held at Prague in 1891, Count
Schwarzenberg exhibited four embroideries, each fourteen by eight
inches. They were embroidered with Bohemian pearls found on his domains
a century or more previous, and contained many thousands of pearls.

In Hungary pearls have always been the favorite jewels, especially among
the aristocracy, and they have served to adorn the national costume of
both men and women. A century ago nearly every family of distinction
owned a necklace, but most of the pearls were small and of indifferent
quality. Since that time fine pearls have become more usual, and many
wealthy Hungarian families have acquired beautiful pearls of good size
and excellent quality, and many splendid necklaces can now be seen in
Hungary. The following are some of the finest:

A necklace of three large rows, owned by the Archduke Joseph and
valued at one million francs.

A still larger necklace in the possession of Prince Nicholas
Esterhazy; this, however, is an entailed heirloom, and may not be
parted with without the king’s permission.

A very fine necklace of five rows, also an entailed heirloom, owned
by Count Maurice Esterhazy.

A large necklace, possessed by Countess Alois Karoly, wife of the
late ambassador in London. This is another entailed heirloom; its
value is at least a million and a half francs.

An unusually large necklace of four rows, such as one rarely sees,
owned by the Countess Wenkheim. The pearls are white, and have a
good shape, but not much brilliancy. The average size of these
pearls is approximately twenty-four grains.

An equally large necklace consisting of a single row, averaging
twenty-six grains, in the possession of Countess Louis Batthyani.

There are a great many other necklaces of fine quality, worth from
300,000 francs down to 100,000 francs, belonging to families such as
those of Count Joseph Hunyadi, Countess Festetics-Hamilton, Count
Landor Nako, Peer Leo Lanczi, Count Albert Apponyi, Mr. Eugene
Dreher, Madame Emma de Bachrach, etc., etc. Indeed, almost every
wealthy family of the better class owns a necklace worth up to
100,000 francs and over.

The portraits of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries
afford us many interesting evidences regarding the various forms of
jewelry in which pearls were used. Indeed, had we no other records,
these pictures alone would prove the great popularity of the gem as an
ornament.

In the finely executed portrait of the Duchess Anne de France, she wears
a coronet with three pearls at each point. It seems to be made up of
three large pearls, set on a row of pearls circling the entire top of
her head, beneath which is a row of great emeralds, and then another row
of pearls. Flaring downward and entirely covering the side of her head
near the ear, are two rows of pearls with a row of fine emeralds between
them, the rows of pearls deflecting slightly downward until the chin
line is reached, and then turning back and slightly upward, meeting at
the back. As in the crown cap, the same severe decoration in pearls is
the main feature, and is repeated on each side of the robe, the front of
which is of ermine. Beginning on a line with the shoulder is a broad
band of pearls and emeralds set in gold which extends below her waist.
At the top of this are six pearls set in a straight line. Then from the
end of this line, dropping straight down, is a row on each side. Between
the two rows is a gem, then two great pearls and another gem, then two
more pearls, this being repeated to below the waist. The ermine is held
at her waist by a trefoil reversed; that is, two pearls above and one
below a great gem, and then a trefoil reversed below this. This portrait
is dated 1498 and is on a triptych in the cathedral of Moulins.

Quite unique is the pearl decoration in a picture of St. Barbara,
painted by an artist of the French school, and dated 1520, which is in
the National Museum of Budapest. This artist uses pearls with the utmost
severity of taste and richness. Beginning a trifle above the center of
her forehead is an emerald ornament, and on each side there extend to
the back of her head three rows of pearls, not placed exactly one row
above the other, but the rows intertwined with each other. The whole is
enriched by a great string of pearls about her neck. The effect produced
is extremely artistic and beautiful.

Catharine de’ Medici wore two rows of pearls on her bonnet, and a quaint
necklace in sections of two rows of four pearls, with a large pearl
between; a pear-shaped pendant on a Renaissance jewel; a row of pearls
around her low-cut bodice, and a girdle of jewels alternating with
pearls, which extended to the lower end of her gown. In addition to all
this, she wore a bracelet of jewels with a pearl set between each
ornament. This artistic combination is best shown in her portrait in the
Uffizi, Florence (No. 726), painted by an unknown artist.

One of the most unique, rich, and chic collections of pearls, and one
worn with unusual grace, is that of the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia,
shown in the fine portrait of her by Coello Sanchez. In this portrait
her hat shows the plumes embroidered with slanting rows of three, four,
and five pearls. In the center of the hat is an ornament shaped like a
flower, with seven large pearl petals surrounding a great pearl center.
The hat is tilted to one side showing her hair on the left, while a
little to the right of the center of her forehead, and touching it,
there hangs from her hair a great pear-shaped pearl, which adds a
wonderful amount of character to the jeweling of her head. Around her
neck is a high fluted ruff; below which is a collar of large gems
relieved by an ornament of two pearls placed between each gem. The same
interesting motive is carried out in a girdle of gems which comes down
very low to her waist, terminating in a large jeweled heart ornament.
The painting shows sixteen remarkable pearls in the collar, and
thirty-six pearls in the jeweled girdle.

A very interesting collection of portraits was exhibited last spring
(1907) at the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris. The pictures are
contained, in some instances, in old illuminated manuscripts, while in
others they are contemporary crayon sketches. Many pearl decorations are
represented, and we give a few of the most important.

The portrait of Anne de Bretagne (1476–1514), wife of Louis XII,
from the “Heures d’Anne de Bretagne,” illuminated by Jean
Bourdichon, represents the queen kneeling; she wears a collar
ornamented with groups of four pearls alternating with precious
stones.

A crayon sketch of Françoise de Foix, Comtesse de Châteaubriant
(1490–1537), who became the mistress of Francis I, shows her wearing
a hood or coif ornamented with forty oval pearls. She also wears a
necklace of sixty fine round pearls.

Diane de Poitiers (1499–1566), granddaughter of Charles VII and
Agnes Sorel, is represented with a head-dress similar to that worn
by the Comtesse de Châteaubriant . It has a border of sixty round
pearls. This crayon is of the time of Jean Clouet.

A portrait of Philip Strozzi (1541–1582) who, although an Italian,
had the rank of colonel-général in the French army, is interesting
as an illustration of the wearing of earrings by the men of this
period. The fine round pearl which hangs from his ear strikes us now
as a curious ornament for a warrior.

A crayon sketch of Gabrielle d’Estrées (d. 1599), mistress of Henri
IV, is attributed to the hand of Daniel Dumonstier. Here may be seen
a splendid pearl necklace, which apparently consists of six
sections, each comprising three rows of eight round pearls, the
sections being connected with each other by a large oval pearl. The
necklace, which hangs down over the bosom, is fastened by a clasp in
the form of a four-leaved clover, from which depend two other
sections similar to those described above, and terminating in an
oval pearl pendant.

The portrait of the Duchesse de Montpensier (1627–1693), the “Grande
Mademoiselle” of Mme. de Sévigné’s letters, is from the “Maximes de
nostre salut,” dedicated to the duchess by the author, M. de la
Serre, and is attributed to Nicolas Jarry. It represents the duchess
wearing a beautiful necklace of round pearls and a large pear-shaped
pearl earring, while another pear-shaped pearl depends from a clasp
which serves to loop up her fichu on the shoulder.

A fine example of the Renaissance style existing in the sixteenth
century is that of a gold and enamel necklace of Italian workmanship,
embellished with pearls. This necklace was presented to the Louvre
Museum by Don A. de Rotschildt. The two-pearl motive is carried out
exquisitely, two pearls appearing in a small connecting ornament between
two larger enameled and engraved gold plaques, which represent scenes
from the life of our Saviour.

At the exposition of 1900 there was shown in the Russian Pavilion, a
most interesting collection of jewelry of decidedly oriental character,
dating from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century. These jewels were
said to have belonged to the Emir of Bokhara. They differed slightly
from the East Indian in character, and generally consisted of
combinations of pearls, rubies, and emeralds, the three colors of these
gems predominating. One of the most interesting of the necklaces,
acquired by J. Gelatley, Esq., shows an arrangement of the pearls which
is peculiarly attractive and decorative.

The heraldic significance of pearls has at times been very important.
While in the eighteenth century the crowns of the French nobles were
surmounted with silver points, it appears that in the sixteenth century
they were provided with pearl points. According to Rudolphus,[477] the
dukes wore a leaf crown of eight leaves, with or without as many
commingled pearl points; the marquises a crown of four leaves with
twelve pearl points, or with four groups of three pearls set one over
the other; and the counts, a pearl crown which sometimes had four pearls
in each corner, one above the other. The viscounts wore a gold ring set
with four pearls, and the barons a gold ring entwined with pearls.

The same is true of the English coronets. Instead of the pearls which
they bore at an earlier period, silver balls are now used on those of
the English barons, viscounts, earls, and marquises. This change
probably owed its origin to the desire on the part of the sovereigns to
confine the official use of pearls and other precious stones to
themselves. The rules at the coronation of Edward VII forbade the use of
pearls except as a special royal privilege. The earl’s coronet has eight
balls raised on points, with gold strawberry leaves between the points.
The marquis wears one with four gold strawberry leaves and four silver
balls alternating, the latter raised above the rim.[478]

A pearl and gold ring, formerly belonging to Washington, is now in the
possession of Vice-Chancellor E. B. Learning, of Camden, N. J. It bears
in the center a lock of Washington’s hair under a conical glass, around
which is a setting of blue and white enamel with a square of red at each
corner. The whole is surrounded by a circle of thirteen pearls. This
ring was presented by Washington to Lieutenant Richard Somers prior to
the latter’s departure on the expedition against the Algerine pirates in
Tripoli, in the course of which he lost his life. Before his departure
he left the ring with his sister, Sarah Keen. Vice-Chancellor Leaming’s
paternal grandmother inherited it as heir to Somers’s estate, and from
her it descended successively to her son and grandson. The lock of
Washington’s hair is admitted to be one of only three now existing, of
the other two, one is at Washington’s headquarters at Newburg and the
other in the museum at Boston. The ring was exhibited at the Centennial
Exposition in 1876.

And what a wealth of pearls was seen at the marriage of the late Emperor
Frederick III of Germany with Princess Victoria, in 1858! The wedding
gift of the bridegroom consisted of a necklace of thirty-six enormous
pearls, three superb ones in the middle, and graduated in size toward
the ends. From her mother, Queen Victoria, the bride received a diamond
necklace and three massive brooches set with unusually large pearls; and
from Prince Albert, a magnificent hair-net of pearls, diamonds, and
emeralds. The king and queen of Prussia presented a diadem of brilliants
surrounded with a splendid circlet of pearls. On the day of her entry
into Berlin, the queen bestowed on the bride a costly brooch of pearls
and diamonds, representing a bouquet, the leaves of which consisted of
diamonds, while the flowers themselves were of pear-shaped pearls of
large size, one weighing 160 grains, and fourteen of them weighing 600
grains together.

One of the most splendid and best known collection of pearls, and one
worn with as much grace as any in Europe, consists of those owned by the
dowager Queen Margherita of Italy, whose name signifies pearl, and who
has always been fond of the ocean jewel. Her husband, King Humbert, made
her many presents of this regal gem. A photograph, signed by the queen
and sent to us for this volume by her gracious courtesy, shows her
wearing her magnificent twelve strings of pearls, a pearl bracelet, and
a pearl tiara with pear-shaped pearl tips.

At the coronation of Edward VII and Queen Alexandra, beside her
coronation crown, the latter wore many of her richest and most beautiful
jewels. These consisted of seven immense rows of pearls, each
twenty-four to thirty inches in length, hanging below five large neck
circlets of diamonds and a great corsage ornament which covered her
entire bodice; and beneath part of this was a splendid ornament of
diamonds with large, pear-shaped pearls.

A careful study of the decorations conferred by potentates and
governments shows that the pearl is rarely used in the ornamentation of
these marks of distinction. A notable exception is that given by the
Siamese government. This decoration is known as the nine-jewel Siamese
decoration, and bears a large center pearl. It is only conferred on nine
members of the royal Siamese family, including his Majesty the King of
Siam. The central pearl represents the king and the eight other jewels
surrounding it the members of his family. It is strange that Siam should
find so much significance in white, as is illustrated by the white
elephant, and also by the use of the white pearl for this order.

The Order of Christ, the chief Portuguese order, has a long cross
enameled in bright red surcharged with a white cross and bordered with
fine pearls. The effect is both striking and beautiful.

The order of the crown of India is a jeweled badge with a device
composed of the imperial cipher, E. R. and I., in diamonds, pearls, and
turquoises, set within a border of pearls and surmounted by the imperial
crown.[479]

A remarkable pearl necklace was recently the subject of litigation in
England. It was the property of the late Duchess of Sermonata, an
Englishwoman who married an Italian. She was a daughter of the late Lord
Howard de Walden, one of the wealthiest of the English nobility. The
duchess was in the habit of investing all her spare cash in pearls, and
it seems that she chose a very good form of investment, since pearls
have increased in value to a greater extent even than diamonds during
the same period. Of the ten rows of which this necklace consisted, six
were deposited for safekeeping in a London bank and the other four were
in Florence at the time of the death of the duchess. She had bequeathed
the gems at the bank to her niece, Miss Henrietta Ellis, and had left
directions that, if her pearl necklace was in London when she died, it
should be sent to her Italian executors. All the jewels are now claimed
by these executors, while Miss Ellis contends that it was the intention
of the duchess to leave to her the pearls in the hands of the London
bankers. The necklace consisted at one time of ten rows; the first,
thirteen and a half inches long, comprised forty-one pearls; the second,
fourteen inches in length, thirty-nine pearls; the third, fourteen and a
half inches, forty-three pearls; the fourth, seventeen inches,
forty-seven pearls; the fifth, seventeen and a half inches, forty-nine
pearls; the sixth, nineteen and a half inches, fifty-five pearls; the
seventh, twenty-one inches, sixty-six pearls; the eighth, twenty-three
and a half inches, seventy pearls; the ninth, twenty-six inches,
eighty-two pearls; the tenth, twenty-nine and a half inches, ninety-one
pearls. The total number of pearls is 583, and the necklace is valued at
$150,000.

A widely advertised necklace of large size was shown in the English
section of the Paris Exposition of 1900. This necklace consisted of
forty-six pearls weighing 1596 grains, and was valued at $450,000. It
was loaned by an English gentleman now dead, and was returned to him at
the close of the exposition and later dispersed.

In regard to the possession of pearls by families in the United States,
we may safely say that there is not a letter in the alphabet under which
we cannot find the names of from one to a dozen families, owning single
strings or collections from the value of $10,000 to $200,000, or even
more. If one is a wearer of jewels, pearls are an absolute necessity;
indeed, they are as essential and indispensable for the wealthy as are
houses, horses, and automobiles. At no period in the world’s history
have pearls been more widely distributed; and some of those of to-day
are finer in quality and orient, and also more carefully matched, than
those in the great collections of the past. Of course there are
exceptions, where royal personages have been careful observers and have
used good taste, but it is a question whether there have ever been more
critical or better buyers, as far as selection is concerned, than are
many American men and women who have purchased this gem.

One of the largest pearl necklaces in the United States is in the
possession of an American lady. There are perhaps thirty pearls in the
necklace, weighing in all about 1400 grains; the largest pearl weighs
nearly 120 grains. There is also one of 75 grains and one of 70 grains,
the others graduating down to 20 grains.

With increasing wealth, and a demand for rich rather than gaudy or showy
jewelry, there is nothing that commends itself so highly as the pearl,
which acts as a foil to the diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire, and at
the same time harmonizes with them and in fact with all the colored
stones. The true pearl, as it increases in size and beauty, becomes
proportionately more rare and costly; and yet it differs from other
jewels in the fact that they are mined in the depths of the earth, and
their existing quantity is speculative, while the home of the pearl is
much more accessible, and it is possible to make an estimate of the
number of pearls in course of growth. Pearls, however, are forming all
the time, while other gems are perhaps to-day as they were ages before
the advent of man. Nevertheless, even if pearls were cultivated as they
should be, and people cared for the mollusks as the oyster-gatherer does
for his crop—by planting it, guarding it and gathering it
systematically—still, the ever-increasing demand would more than balance
the greater supply. As we have said, at no time since pearls were worn
have they enjoyed such favor; and while they have always increased in
value, this increase has never been so rapid as in the past ten years.
They are jewels which can be worn by young or old, and which adapt
themselves to every fabric that man or woman can use for attire; whether
they are white, gray, or black, they are never obtrusive, but always
have a refining effect. Round as the globe upon which we live, they will
probably be worn and appreciated as long as life exists upon this
sphere.

It is interesting to note the change of taste and the difference of
opinion, at various epochs, in regard to the respective merits of
pear-shaped and round pearls. In the Roman period the pear-shaped pearls
were more highly valued; in the eighteenth century round pearls were
esteemed the more valuable, while at the present day they are both on
about the same basis.

With the progressive twentieth century taste for independence in
fashion, our modern ladies take from every epoch what they think will
best suit their superrefined beauty. Therefore we are not surprised to
find in their jewel-cases the long earrings and large brooches adorned
with seed-pearls, similar to those worn by their grandmothers of the
early Victorian period. Although these jewels cannot be considered very
beautiful according to the artistic standard of to-day, they,
nevertheless, lend to their wearers a certain quaint dignity and
piquancy which is very attractive.

As an instance of modern pearl-wearing by a lady of the present century,
we may note a portrait in which there is a simple necklace of large
pearls; over this a collar of twenty-three rows of pearls with a diamond
centerpiece, and to relieve the severity, a sautoir, which is made up of
alternate pearls and diamonds, and pearl earrings. No better
illustration can be given than the portrait of Señora Carmen Romero
Rubio de Diaz, wife of President Porfirio Diaz of Mexico, which, by her
courtesy, we are able to figure.

The gathering of a great necklace is not the work of a day; it often
requires many years. Such necklaces are frequently held for a long time
by dealers or by a number of people who are interested in their sale,
and whenever one or more pearls can be purchased which form a better
graduation or which are of better color or more perfect, they are
usually purchased to improve the necklace if the price is a proper one.

In the early sixties, when most American women aspired to owning a pair
of diamond earrings, it was not uncommon for ladies to start with a
hundred, two hundred, five hundred, or a thousand-dollar pair, and, for
a dozen years to come, to add an annual sum of one hundred, two hundred
or five hundred dollars to increasing the size of these by exchanging
them with the dealer at the cost price and paying the difference between
the value of the pair that had been purchased and that of the new pair.
In this way ladies who never would have thought of spending five
thousand dollars for a pair of earrings, virtually made a savings-bank
of the jewels. This is frequently done with pearls. A small necklace or
a few pearls will be purchased; these are added to annually or at such
times as the owner may have spare savings or gifts to invest. It is not
uncommon for a family to buy a pearl for a daughter on her first
birthday, and each succeeding year add one pearl to this, so that she
may first wear one pearl, then two, then three, and by the time the
young lady makes her début in society, a good start has been made toward
a pearl necklace. It was the custom of King Humbert of Italy to present
his queen, Margherita, with one fine pearl every year, and with this
succession of annual gifts she possessed one of the finest collections
in Europe.

In the portraits of the four daughters of the present Czarina of Russia,
the Grand Duchesses Tatiana, Olga, Maria, and Anastasia, we can see that
their pearl necklaces were built up gradually, as that of the eldest
daughter is notably longer than those of her younger sisters. These
pearls were annual gifts from the Czar and Czarina and from others of
the imperial family.

There are few ornaments worn by man or woman that have not at one time
or another been bepearled, either with large or small pearls, with one
pearl or many pearls, with pearls of high or low degree, and no object
is ever made the less rich by the addition of the peerless gem of the
ocean depths.

As the prices of pearls have increased, naturally the single objects
containing them have also become more costly. It is not unusual to see
rings with pearls each costing from $5000 to $10,000, $20,000, and even
$30,000 and over, the pearls not infrequently being in button form.

Rings are occasionally made up of one white and one black oriental
pearl, and if a pink one is combined with these, it is either a
fresh-water or a conch pearl. Such rings sell for $5000, $8000, $10,000
and $15,000 each.

Pendant pearls, either round, ovate, drop, or pear-shaped, sell from
$5000 to $10,000, $20,000, $50,000, and even $100,000.

The prices for one or two choice pearls worn for the adornment of a
man’s shirt-front are $2000, $3000, $5000, and even $10,000.

In link buttons, slightly ovate, button or round pearls are used, the
link being made up of one white and one black pearl, costing $2000,
$3000, $5000, and even $20,000 a set.

It is not unusual for a man to wear a scarf-pin set with a round, ovate,
or pear-shaped pearl costing $2000, $5000, $10,000, $15,000, and even
$30,000.

For men’s scarf-pins, a variety of colors are frequently selected, such
as a white oriental, a pink American, a pink conch, or a gray and black
oriental pearl.

Single pearl necklaces sell for $1000, $2000, $5000, $8000, $10,000,
$15,000, $20,000, $50,000, $100,000, $250,000, and $500,000 necklaces
are not unknown.

Tiaras sell for $10,000, $20,000, $50,000, and $100,000.

Waistcoat buttons, sometimes made up of baroque pearls, cost from $200
to $500; sometimes, however, when fine pearls are used, the price paid
for a set of five or six buttons is as high as $10,000.

It is scarcely possible to mention all the various forms in which the
pearl has been worn: whether as a spray of many small pearls or a few
large ones, either round, ovate, or pear-shaped for aigrets; in points
on crowns, used either for ornamental or heraldic purposes; for the
decoration of the orbs, scepters, and crowns of kings and emperors; for
forming an edging on bonnets, caps, fillets, or diadems; in pendant
form, usually consisting of one, although sometimes of three or four
pendants in rows and lines to ornament the side of the face; or one,
two, three, or a bunch together to adorn the ear; as a single pearl on a
wire or a group of them, as worn in the nose of the East Indian beauty;
as a single, two, three, or many-rowed necklace to grace the lady, the
queen, and the empress; or else in six, ten, to twenty or more rows with
a tiny gold jeweled bar, or a large diamond center, in the form of
collars; as a long chain from four to ten feet long to hang from the
neck to the waist, or else to be worn once, twice, or thrice around the
neck, hanging down and then encircling the waist in the form of a
sautoir; either as a single drop, consisting of an ovate or pear-shaped
pearl or a number of them together in the form of a pendant combined
with diamonds; as a single pearl surrounded with pearls or diamonds for
buttons to adorn my lady’s crown; in rows, or combined with jewels and
enamel, in the form of a bow-knot with long bunches of pearls, for
shoulder bars; either as one pearl alone or alternating with gold wire,
with jewels, or with many pearls, in endless forms, as bracelets; either
as a single row, two rows or alternate rows in infinite variety on
bodices, as worn in the past more than at the present; in a single row
on ornamenting metal, enamel, or jewelwork in the form of girdles; in
five hundred forms for rings; as an embroidery or in rows pendant on
slippers; and, finally, as a stole. These are only a few of the uses to
which a lady can put pearls.

By men, pearls are worn to adorn the shirt, to wear in the scarf, as
link buttons, as waistcoat buttons, or as a fob. The pearls used in this
way are sometimes quite as expensive as any of those worn by the ladies.

Ecclesiastics, for more than two thousand years, have appreciated the
richness of bepearling. In Russia we find pearls decorating crosses,
missal covers, vestments, bindings on books, chalices and crook-tops;
they are employed as borders to ikon frames, or for the decoration about
the Madonna and Child. In Persia we find pearl-embroidered rugs,
pillows, and bolsters. Half-pearls are used in quaint decorations for
watches, snuff-boxes, miniatures, and portrait frames. Even saddles and
horse-trappings in the East do not escape the charm and beauty of the
pearl. Even the English coronation spoon is known for the pearls which
ornament it.

Of the many forms of earrings that have come down to us, none is simpler
or daintier than a single pearl worn as an ear-screw, or partly or
entirely strung on a thin gold wire. Another dainty style is three
pearls, worn one below the other as in ancient Rome, known as a triclum;
or the round pearl with a pear-shaped pendant or bunches of pearls known
as crotalia, also worn in ancient times.

A pearl necklace is usually clasped either by a round or ovate pearl,
drilled so that the catch and snap are contained within the pearl
itself, or else by a pearl surrounded by diamonds, rubies, or other
gems. Such a clasp frequently serves to bind from two to fifteen rows of
pearls, the first or smaller row encircling the neck, and each row in
turn being larger until the fifteenth row reaches to the bosom or even
to the waist.

Pearl collars are usually made up of four, six, ten, twenty, and even
twenty-five rows; often of very small pearls, generally fitting closely
to the neck. The pearls are held in position either by four gold,
diamond, or jeweled bars, or frequently the entire front of the collar
is occupied by a large diamond ornament.

In ancient times, pearls were a favorite decoration of crosses;
frequently an entire cross was made up of pearls, either of a single or
a double row. Many portraits dating from the fifteenth to the
seventeenth century show the cross used in connection with a necklace,
this either starting from the top of the cross or from each side at the
end of each arm. Sometimes from below the arms and the lower part of the
cross there hung pendant either round or pear-shaped pearls. We have
other instances where at the top, the cross was attached to a pearl
necklace, while below each of the two arms there hung a pearl, and from
the lower part of the cross a double necklace again reached to the back
of the neck. Frequently a festoon collar will be made up of five rows of
pearls, each of a graduated length, and pendant on each a diamond.
Recently pearls have been drilled and invisibly joined by fine platinum
links, so as to form a continuous ribbon or even a collar two inches
wide; occasionally, a Greek border or some other design, of larger
pearls or of diamonds, rubies, sapphires or other gems, is interwoven.
This constitutes a veritable, smooth pearl cloth, or pearl mesh, very
beautiful and also comfortable to wear. Indeed, a purse, measuring five
by six inches, has been made of this cloth of pearls.

Dust-pearls, too minute to drill, and numbering over 100,000 to the
ounce, were used, in the latter part of the eighteenth and the early
part of the nineteenth centuries, for the embellishment of the hair-work
then so much in favor and which was placed under glass. Where foliage
was represented the leaves were made of the most minute seed-pearls,
graduated in size and set on an outline of enamel or white paint, the
pearls being cemented to the outline. This added a softness to the
hair-work and other decoration.

As long as the pearl has been known, there has been a desire to obtain
possession of one in some of its degrees of perfection, and for this
reason many attempts have been made to prepare something that might pass
for a pearl or even suggest a pearl. Sometimes the mother-of-pearl shell
has, naturally, a protuberance, either round or pear-shaped, which, if
cut off and highly polished may resemble an imperfect pearl; and this
operation is often so cleverly performed that, at the first glance, this
object may pass for a true pearl. In Russia, and especially in Bohemia,
they have gone farther than this. They have cut out a bit of
mother-of-pearl shell, leaving a piece of the natural shell for the top,
or the part that will be visible, and rounding off the rest of the
surface so as to give it a pearly effect. These objects are of trifling
value and are used in necklaces and earrings, and in the ornamentation
of icons and miniature frames and even as beads. Glass with either an
exterior or interior coating of a nacreous substance is sometimes made
absolutely round, while at other times it is made with many
imperfections so as to resemble either a marine baroque or a fresh-water
irregular pearl. The North American Indian, as described elsewhere, has
coated little balls of clay with a powder made from a pearl-bearing
fresh-water mussel and then baked them.

 


XVI

FAMOUS PEARLS AND COLLECTIONS

 


XVI
FAMOUS PEARLS AND COLLECTIONS


The kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly
pearls: who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and
sold all that he had and bought it.

_St. Matthew_, XIII, 45, 46.

In the course of twenty centuries many pearls and pearl collections have
become famous, either because of their intrinsic value or else through
historic associations. An attempt is made here to list briefly the more
important of these. While we have purposely omitted any mention of the
pearl collections in private hands at the present time, some of which
are more valuable than many of those noted in the following pages, we
have, nevertheless, given the principal sales of pearls at auction
during the past twenty years. Many specimens of remarkable size and
beauty have changed hands in this way, more especially in England.


CLEOPATRA PEARLS. Next to that “pearl of great price,” mentioned by
Christ, probably the most famous of all pearls were the two which Pliny
records as having been worn in the ears of Cleopatra, “the singular and
onely jewels of the world and even Nature’s wonder.” This writer does
not note their size, but estimates their value at sixty million
sestertii. We have already quoted the passage in which Pliny relates how
one of these pearls was dissolved and swallowed by Cleopatra in order to
win a wager she had made with Antony. After the death of that queen the
other pearl “was cut in twaine, that in memoriall of that one halfe
supper of theirs, it should remaine unto posterite, hanging at both the
eares of Venus at Rome in the temple of Pantheon.”[480] Budé estimated
the value of the pearl dedicated to Venus at 250,000 _escus_ of
gold.[481]

Another famous pearl mentioned by Pliny was the one which Julius Cæsar
presented to Servilia, mother of Brutus, the value of which he notes as
six million sestertii.[482]


PEROZ PEARL. The historian Procopius,[483] of the sixth century, tells
of a magnificent pearl which belonged to Peroz, or Firuz (459–484), one
of the Sassanian kings of Persia. In the course of his disastrous battle
with the White Huns, in which both he and his sons perished, Peroz,
having a presentiment of the misfortune about to befall him, took the
pearl from his right ear and cast it away, lest any one should wear it
after him. This pearl is described as being “such as no king had ever
worn up to that time.” Procopius, however, thinks it more probable that
the ear of Peroz was cut off in the combat, and he states that the
emperor (Zeno, 426–491) was very anxious to buy the gem from the Huns,
but that all search for it was in vain. Nevertheless, a rumor was
current that it was recovered later, but that another pearl was
substituted for it and sold to Kobad, a successor of Peroz.

A different version is given by Panciroli,[484] who quotes Zonaras, a
Byzantine historian of the twelfth century, as his authority. According
to this version Justinian the Great, who succeeded to the throne
forty-three years after the death of Peroz, offered one hundred pounds
of gold (about $25,000) for the pearl, but the barbarians refused to
part with it, preferring to keep it as a memorial of Persian folly. On
the coins of Peroz he is represented wearing an earring with three
pendants, one of which may have been this wonderful pearl.


CHARLES THE BOLD. One of the greatest jewels of the fifteenth century
was that belonging to Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy (1433–1477).
According to notes and drawings[485] made in 1555 by J. J. Fugger of
Nuremberg, who was the banker jeweler of his generation, this consisted
of a large pyramid diamond five eighths of an inch square at the base,
with the apex cut as a four-rayed star in relief; surrounding this were
three rectangular pyramid-shaped rubies and three magnificent
pear-shaped pearls, and a large ovate pearl was suspended from the
lowest ruby. The pear pearls are described as measuring half an inch in
diameter and must have weighed about sixty grains each. This magnificent
jewel was probably the most celebrated in Europe during the fifteenth
century. According to Comines, on the defeat of the Grand Duke and the
plundering of his baggage by the Swiss at Granson in 1476, the ornament
was found by a careless soldier who tossed it away, but retained the
gold box containing it. On second thought, he searched for and recovered
the jewel and sold it to a priest for one florin, and the ecclesiastic
sold it to a Bernese government official for the sum of three florins.
Some years later this jewel, together with the ducal cap of Charles the
Bold, which was covered with pearls, and bore a plume case, set with
diamonds (points), alternating with pearls and balas-rubies, was sold by
the Bernese government to Jacob Fugger, as related by J. J. Fugger in
the manuscript above noted, “for no more than 47,000 florins.” In the
vain hope that it would be purchased by Emperor Charles V, grandson of
Charles the Bold, Fugger held the jewel for many years, but he broke up
the cap and reset the stones in it for Maximilian II. The brooch was
finally sold to Henry VIII of England just before his death, and it
passed to his daughter and successor, Bloody Mary, who presented it to
her Spanish bridegroom, Philip. Thus, after seventy-six years, the jewel
was restored to a descendant of the original owner. This history has
been given at some length owing to its illustration of the manner in
which great pearls were easily lost on battle-fields and were passed
about from one country to another.

TARAREQUI PEARLS. The early American fisheries yielded several
magnificent pearls, many of which eventually became part of the imperial
Spanish jewels. Prominent among these was the _Huerfana_ or _Sola_.
According to Gomara, this was secured in 1515 from the Indians at
Tararequi, in the Gulf of Panama, in a large collection which weighed
880 ounces. It was pear-shaped and weighed thirty-one carats. Gomara
states that this pearl was purchased from Gaspar de Morales, leader of
the Spanish expedition, by a merchant, for the sum of 12,000 castilians.
“The purchaser could not sleep that night for thinking on the fact that
he had given so much money for one stone, and sold it the very next day
to Pedrarias de Avila, for his wife Donna Isabel de Bovadilla”; and
afterward it passed to Isabella, wife of Emperor Charles V (1500–1558).
It was remarkable for its luster, color, and clearness, as well as for
its size. Another large pearl in this collection weighed twenty-six
carats.


OVIEDO PEARL. As already noted on page 237, in his “Historia natural y
general de las Indias,” published at Toledo in 1526, Gonzalo de Oviedo
wrote of having purchased at Panama a pearl weighing twenty-six carats
for which he paid 650 times its weight in fine gold, and which he
claimed was the “greatest, fairest and roundest” that had ever been seen
at Panama. Probably this was the twenty-six-carat pearl obtained at
Tararequi by Gaspar de Morales in 1515. At 650 times its weight in gold
the value of this pearl would be $2294.54; representing a base of $.2124
per grain; but at a base of $5 per grain the same pearl would be worth
$54,080, equaling 15,320 times its weight in gold.


TEMPLE OF TALOMECO. Among great collections of pearls, some writers
would place that described by Garcilasso de la Vega as having been found
by De Soto and his followers in 1540 in the Temple of Talomeco near the
Savannah River in America.[486] According to Garcilasso, the quantity of
pearls there was so great that 300 horses and 900 men would not have
sufficed for its transportation, vastly excelling every other if not all
other collections in the history of the world. Unfortunately the
accuracy of this account has not been unquestioned.


LA PEREGRINA. Most celebrated among the early American pearls was La
Peregrina (the incomparable), or the Philip II pearl, which weighed 134
grains. According to Garcilasso de la Vega, who says that he saw it at
Seville in 1597,[487] this was found at Panama in 1560 by a negro who
was rewarded with his liberty, and his owner with the office of alcalde
of Panama. Other authorities note that it came from the Venezuelan
fisheries in 1574. It was carried to Spain by Don Diego de Temes, who
presented it to Philip II (1527–1598). Jacques de Treco, court jeweler
to the king, is credited with saying that it might be worth 30,000,
50,000 or 100,000 ducats, as one might choose to estimate, for in fact
it was so remarkable as to be beyond any standard valuation. If we can
credit Garcilasso, at one time this pearl decorated the crown of the
Blessed Virgin in the church of Guadeloupe, which was resplendent with
gems.[488] A contemporaneous account[489] notes that it was worn at
Madrid by Queen Margarita, wife of Philip III, at the fêtes given in
celebration of the treaty of peace between that country and England in
1605.


CHARLES II PEARL. Somewhat similar to the foregoing was the pearl of
Charles II of Spain (1661–1700), which was presented to that monarch by
Don Pedro de Aponte, Conde del Palmer, a native of the Canaries. This
gem was found in 1691, or more than a century after La Peregrina. These
two pearls were nearly equal in size, and for many years they were worn
as earrings by the successive queens of Spain. It is reported that they
were destroyed in 1734, when a large portion of the old palace at Madrid
was burned.[490]

The jewels of the Spanish crown have passed through so many vicissitudes
that it is not surprising that but few of them remain in the Spanish
treasury. After the overthrow of the Spanish monarchy by the French in
1808, Ferdinand VII, during the time of his exile, disposed of many of
these jewels. It is asserted that, after the deposition of Queen
Isabella, in 1868, the crown jewels were divided between herself and her
sister, the pious Duchesse de Montpensier, and a considerable portion
was eventually distributed among the numerous descendants of the latter.
It is also stated that there is no mention of the Spanish crown jewels
during the reign of King Amadeus, the first sovereign of the restored
monarchy. There are, however, great quantities of pearls and other gems
belonging to the various madonnas in the Spanish churches, as, for
example, Nuestra Señora de Atocha, Cavadonga and others.


PEARLS OF MARY STUART. The pearls owned by the unfortunate Mary Queen of
Scots (1542–1587) were among the most beautiful in Europe. Inventories
of these[491] show great _bordures de tour_ of large pear pearls with
_entredeux_ of round pearls, long ropes of pearls strung like beads on a
rosary, carcans or broad belts set with pearls, and a large number of
loose pearls. Many of these appear in the portraits of this popular
queen; but probably the most remarkable exhibition of them is in the
portrait now owned by the Earl of Leven and Melville,[492] which appears
to agree fairly well with the inventories of her jewels, although this
portrait is not wholly free from impeachment as to its accuracy and
contemporaneousness.

After the downfall of the queen, most of her jewels were sold, pawned,
or lost by theft. A number of them passed into the possession of Queen
Elizabeth in 1568, in a manner not wholly satisfactory to lovers of
justice. Some of these were described in a letter dated May 8, 1568, and
addressed to Catharine de’ Medici by Bodutel de la Forest, the French
ambassador at the English court, as “six cordons of large pearls, strung
as paternosters; but there are about twenty-five separate from the
others much larger and more beautiful than those which are strung. They
were first shown to three or four jewelers and lapidaries of this city,
who estimated them at three thousand pounds sterling, and who offered to
give that sum; certain Italian merchants who viewed them afterwards
valued them at 12,000 _escus_, which is the price, as I am told, this
queen [Elizabeth] will take them at. There is a Genevese who saw them
after the others and estimated them as worth 16,000 _escus_
[$24,000].”[493]

Catharine de’ Medici, who was a mother-in-law of Mary Stuart, was very
anxious to obtain these pearls; but the ambassador wrote on May 15,
1568, that he had found it impossible to purchase them; for, as he had
told her from the first, they were intended for the gratification of the
Queen of England, who had purchased them at her own price, and was even
then in possession of them.[494]


QUEEN ELIZABETH’S PEARLS. Although in her youth she is said to have had
a distaste for personal decorations, in her later years Queen Elizabeth
entertained an extravagant fondness for pearls. In speaking of her
portraits, Horace Walpole says: “A pale Roman nose, a head of hair
loaded with crowns and powdered with diamonds, a vast ruff, a vaster
fardingale, and a bushel of pearls, are features by which everybody
knows at once the pictures of Queen Elizabeth.”[495] And to the end, her
love for them was unabated, for in the last tragi-comic scene of her
life, to meet the Angel of Death himself, she was dressed up in her most
splendid jewels with great pearl necklaces and earrings and pendants, as
Paul Delaroche so successfully pictured in his remarkable painting in
the Louvre.

The faded waxwork effigy of her, long preserved in Westminster Abbey in
that curious collection of effigies[496]—the “Ragged Regiment,” as
Walpole called them—has a coronet of large spherical pearls in wax, long
necklaces of them, a great pearl-ornamented stomacher, pearl earrings
with large pear-shaped pendants, and even broad, pearl medallions on the
shoe-bows. In accordance with that singular custom which prevailed from
the time of Henry V (1422), to that of Queen Anne (1714),[497] this
effigy lay on her coffin at the funeral and caused, says Stow in his
Chronicle, “such a general sighing, groning, and weeping, as the like
hath not beene seene or knowne in the memory of man.” A contemporaneous
poet wrote that when the corpse with the effigy passed down the Thames
to lie in state at Whitehall,

Fish wept their eyes of pearl quite out,
And swam blind after.


GRESHAM PEARL. During the reign of Queen Elizabeth, Sir Thomas Gresham,
the merchant prince, was credited with possessing a pearl valued at
£15,000, which he reduced to powder and drank in a glass of wine to the
health of the queen, in order to astonish the Spanish ambassador, with
whom he had laid a wager that he would give a more costly dinner than
could the Spaniards.[498] No other information regarding this pearl
seems available. The valuation certainly appears excessive when compared
with that of some other pearls of that period.

We quote an item from Burgon,[499] taken from the manuscript journal
kept by Edward VI:

25 [April, 1551]. A bargaine made with the Fulcare for about 60,000
l. that in May and August should be paid, for the deferring of it.
First, that the Foulcare should put it off for ten in the hundred.
Secondly, that I should buy 12,000 marks weight at 6 shilinges the
ounce to be delivered at Antwerpe, and so conveyed over. Thirdly, I
should pay 100,000 crowns for a very faire juel of his, four rubies
marvelous big, one orient and great diamount, and one great pearle.


RUDOLPH II PEARLS. The scientific, art-loving, but eccentric Rudolph II
(1552–1612), Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, gathered about him at
Prague a great collection of jewels and wealth of all sorts. The values
of his pearls and precious stones, of the gold and silver articles, was
estimated by the archæologist, Jules Cæsar Boulenger, at seventeen
millions of gold florins, which was a very considerable sum at that
time, as appears when we consider that one hundred gold florins annually
was deemed a good salary for an official at the emperor’s court. De Boot
mentions a pearl belonging to Rudolph II which weighed “thirty carats
and cost as many thousands of gold pieces.” It is quite likely that this
was the one noted by Gomara as coming from the Gulf of Panama,[500] and
which Rudolph probably inherited from his grandfather, Emperor Charles
V. The pearl bought by Oviedo in Panama, prior to 1526, may be one of
the principal decorations of the imperial crown of Austria.

We read in that curious and interesting book, “The Generall Historie of
the Turkes,” by Richard Knolles,[501] that Abbas the Great, Shah of
Persia (1557–1628), after having defeated the Turks in many battles,
desired to form an alliance with Emperor Rudolph II, and to induce him
to break his engagements with the Turks. To this end Shah Abbas, in 1610
sent an embassy to Prague, with many valuable gifts for the emperor,
among which were “three orientall pearles exceeding big.” It has been
conjectured, and it is also claimed, that these may be three of the
eight pear-shaped pearls which are now to be seen in the crown of
Rudolph II. One of the largest pearls in the Austrian crown, as we have
stated, is most probably the Oviedo pearl.


CHARLES I PEARL. Admirers of Vandyke’s pictures of Charles I (1600–1649)
readily recall the pearl pendant from his right ear, which appears in
nearly all of his portraits by that artist. Janin wrote: “This pearl in
the ear of his majesty was greatly coveted, and as soon as his head had
fallen, the witnesses of the dreadful scene rushed forward, ready to
imbue their hands in his blood in order to secure the royal jewel.” It
seems more probable that the martyr king would have left this gem in the
hands of a trusty friend for his family than to the risk of injury by
the ax and to be torn from his mutilated head by a scrambling mob.


OWING to their control of the great fisheries, the most valuable
collections of pearls have been held by eastern monarchs, and
particularly by those of India and Persia. It has been estimated that
one third of the portable wealth of these countries is in jewels. Most
Orientals are as suspicious of interest in their jewels as they are of
inquiry regarding their harems, imagining, doubtless, that the interest
conceals a sentiment of cupidity, hence it is not practicable to give a
minute description of them. However, several travelers have recorded
glowing accounts of collections which they have examined, which read
much like a description of Aladdin’s palace in the Arabian Nights. Among
these, some of the greatest are the


PEARLS DESCRIBED BY TAVERNIER. For accounts of remarkable pearls in
eastern countries in the seventeenth century, we are indebted to that
well-informed old French jeweler, Tavernier, one of the most remarkable
gem dealers the world has ever known. He made numerous journeys to
Persia, Turkey, Central Asia, and the East Indies, gaining the
confidence of the highest officials and trading in gems of the greatest
value. After amassing a large fortune and purchasing a barony near Lake
Geneva, he died at Moscow in 1689 while on a mercantile trip to the
Orient, at the age of eighty-four years. His “Voyages,” published in
1676–1679, reveal a critical knowledge of gems, a remarkable insight
into human nature, and the absence of any intention to impart misleading
information.

In the first English edition of his travels, published in 1678,
Tavernier gave sketches of five of the principal pearls which came under
his careful observation.

Figure 1 of Tavernier’s diagram shows what he considered “the largest
and most perfect pearl ever discovered, and without the least defect.”
The weight of this pear-shaped gem does not appear to have been noted,
but from the sketch it may be estimated at about 500 grains. Tavernier
states that the bloodthirsty Shah Sofi, King of Persia, purchased it in
1633 from an Arab who had just received it from the fisheries at El
Katif. “It cost him 32,000 tomans, or 1,400,000 livres of our money, at
the rate of 46 livres and 6 deniers per toman ($552,000).”[502]

Very much smaller but more beautiful than this great pearl, was the one
which Tavernier saw in 1670 at Ormus in the possession of the Imam of
Muscat, who had recently recovered the Muscat peninsula from the
Portuguese. The jeweler stated that although this weighed only twelve
and one sixteenth carats (forty-eight and a quarter grains),[503] and
was not perfectly round, it surpassed in beauty all others in the world
at that time. It was so clear and lustrous as to appear translucent. At
the conclusion of a grand entertainment given by the Khan of Ormus, at
which Tavernier was present, the Prince of Muscat drew this gem from a
small purse suspended about his neck, and exhibited it to the company.
The Khan of Ormus offered 2000 tomans (about $34,500) for it, but the
owner would not part with his treasure. Tavernier states that later the
prince refused an offer of 40,000 _escus_ ($45,000) from Aurangzeb, the
Great Mogul of India.[504]

Figure 3 in the diagram represents a pear-shaped pearl of fifty-five
carats (220 grains) which Tavernier sold to Shaista Khan, uncle of the
Grand Mogul. Although of large size and good shape, this was deficient
in luster. According to the jeweler, this pearl was from the Island of
Margarita on the Venezuelan coast, and was the largest ever carried from
Occident to Orient.

Tavernier listed among the Great Mogul’s jewels a large olive-shaped
pearl, perfect in form and luster. The weight was not noted, but from
the sketch which he gave (see Fig. 4) it may be estimated at about 125
grains. It formed the central ornament of a chain of emeralds and
rubies, which the Mogul sometimes wore about his neck. He also listed a
round pearl of perfect form (see Fig. 5). The weight of this also is not
noted, but from the sketch it may be estimated at 110 grains. This was
the largest perfectly spherical pearl known to Tavernier. Its equal had
never been found, and for that reason it was kept with the unmounted
jewels.

Among the other pearl treasures of the Great Mogul, Tavernier noted the
following:

(a) Two grand, pear-shaped pearls, one weighing about seventy
ratis,[505] a little flattened on both sides, and of beautiful water and
good form. (b) A button-shaped pearl, weighing from fifty-five to sixty
ratis, of good form and good water. (c) A round pearl of great
perfection, a little flat on one side and weighing fifty-six ratis; this
had been presented to the Great Mogul by Shah Abbas II, King of Persia.
(d) Three round yellowish pearls weighing from twenty-five to
twenty-eight ratis each. (e) A perfectly round pearl, thirty-five and a
half ratis, white and perfect in all respects. This was the only jewel
purchased by the Great Mogul himself, the others being inherited or
coming to him as presents. (f) Two pearls perfectly shaped and equal,
each weighing twenty-five and a quarter ratis. (g) Also two chains, one
of pearls and rubies of different shapes pierced like the pearls; the
other of pearls and emeralds, round and bored. All of these pearls were
round and ranged in weight from ten to twelve ratis each.[506]


PEACOCK THRONE. The famous Takht-i-Tâ’ûs, or “Peacock Throne,” at Delhi
doubtless contained the greatest accumulation of gems in the seventeenth
century. It was completed, in the eighth year of his reign (1044 A.H.,
1634 A.D.) by Shah Jehan, greatest of Mogul sovereigns, who likewise
built the Taj Mahal at Agra, one of the most beautiful edifices ever
designed by man. Abd-al-Hamid, of Lahore, in his Pâd-shâh-nâmah, “Book
of the King,” composed prior to 1654, writes as follows:[507]

In the course of years many valuable gems had come into the imperial
jewel house, each one of which might serve as an ear-drop for Venus
or as an adornment for the girdle of the Sun. Upon the accession of
the emperor, it occurred to him that, in the opinion of far-seeing
men the acquisition of such rare jewels and the keeping of such
wonderful brilliants could render but one service, that of adorning
the throne of the empire. They ought, therefore, to be put to such a
use that beholders might benefit by their splendour and that majesty
might shine with increased brilliancy.

As described by Tavernier in 1676, great quantities of pearls were used
in the ornamentation of this throne, the arched roof, the supporting
pillars, the adjacent sun-umbrellas, being well covered with these gems,
many of them of great value. The choicest one was pear-shaped, yellowish
in color, and weighed about fifty carats (200 grains);[508] this was
suspended from a great ruby which ornamented the breast of the peacock.
“But that which in my opinion is the most costly thing about this
magnificent throne is that the twelve columns supporting the canopy are
surrounded with beautiful rows of pearls, which are round and of fine
water, and weigh from 6 to 10 carats each [24 to 40 grains].”[509] The
total value of the jewels entering into the ornamentation was estimated
at 160,500,000 livres or $60,187,500; and the present value of the
throne as it stands in the shah’s palace at Teheran, whither it was
carried by Nadir Shah from the sack of Delhi in 1739, even though
divested of many of its most valuable gems, is estimated at
$13,000,000.[510] The designer of the Peacock Throne was Austin de
Bordeaux, who also planned the magnificent Taj Mahal. He was named by
Shah Jehan, “Jewel-Handed,” and received a salary of two thousand rupees
a month.


SHAH’S “TIPPET.” Sir Harford Jones Brydges’ description of the jewels of
the Shah of Persia at Teheran is of particular value, since he had
formerly dealt in jewels and was an expert in such matters. He says:

I was particularly struck with the king’s tippet, a covering for
part of his back, his shoulders and his arms, which is only used on
the very highest occasions. It is a piece of pearl work of the most
beautiful pattern; the pearls are worked on velvet, but they stand
so close together that little, if any, of the velvet is visible. It
took me a good hour to examine this single article, which I have no
fear of saying can not be matched in the world. There was not a
single pearl employed in forming this most gorgeous trapping less in
size than the largest marrow-fat pea I ever saw raised in England,
and many—I should suppose from 150 to 200—the size of a wild plum,
and throughout the whole of these pearls, it would puzzle the best
jeweler who should examine them most critically to discover in more
than 4 or 5 a serious fault. The tassel is formed of pearls of the
most uncommon size and beauty; and the emerald which forms the top
of the tassel is perhaps the largest perfect one in the world….
For some days after I had seen these jewels, I attempted to make an
estimate of their value, but I got so confused in the recollection
of their weight and the allowance to be made in some of them for
their perfection in water and color, that I gave it up as
impossible. I cannot, however, think I shall much mislead if I say
that on a moderate, perhaps a low calculation, their value cannot be
less than fifteen millions [sterling?] of our money.[511]


SHAH’S PEARLS IN 1820. Nearly a century ago the elaborate state costume
of the Shah of Persia was described by the English artist, Sir Robert
Ker Porter. In this description he mentioned particularly the pearls in
the tiara, the pear-shaped pearls of immense size with which the plumes
were tipped, the two strings of pearls—“probably the largest in the
world”—which crossed the king’s shoulders, and the large cushion incased
in a network of beautiful pearls against which he reclined.[512]


PEARLS OF THE GAIKWAR OF BARODA. Among the greatest jeweled treasures of
India are those of the present Mahratta Gaikwar of Baroda, who has
precedence over all the rulers in India at all functions, and is one of
the most prominent and enlightened of the Indian princes. He governs a
province of about 8225 square miles and 2,415,396 inhabitants in the
northwestern part of India, 248 miles north of Bombay. Most of these
treasures, whose value is estimated at a dozen million dollars, were
collected by his predecessor, Mahratta Khandarao, who lived in barbaric
splendor, and they are rarely worn by the present gaikwar. These
treasures include a sash of one hundred rows of pearls, terminating in a
great tassel of pearls and emeralds; seven rows of superb pearls whose
value is estimated at half a million dollars; a litter set with
seed-pearls, quantities of unstrung pearls, and more remarkable yet, a
shawl or carpet of pearls, which closely resembles the “tippet” at
Teheran described by Brydge. This carpet is said to be ten and one half
feet long by six feet wide, and to be made up of strings of pearls,
except that a border, eleven inches wide, and also center ornaments, are
worked out in diamonds. Some writers assert that this costly ornament
was originally intended by the late Mahratta Khandarao as a covering for
the tomb of Mohammed. Others state that it was designed as a present for
a woman of whom he was enamoured, but that the British resident
interfered, claiming that the wealth of Baroda was not sufficient to
warrant such an expensive gift on the part of the ruler. This ornament
is now retained among the regalia at Baroda, and is probably the most
costly pearl ornament in the world, its value being estimated at several
million dollars.


SUMMER PALACE IN 1860. Many superb pearls were among the precious
objects in the Yuen-Min-Yuen or Summer Palace in Pekin at the time of
its capture by the European forces in 1860. Numbers of these were lost
in the confusion of the sacking and plunder, when the soldiers’ pockets
were filled and the floors were strewn with jewels, beautiful objects of
gold and silver, rich silks and furs, carved jade, lapis lazuli, etc.
Some of the pearls found their way to Europe, and especially to France
and England. They were of good size and luster and were mostly yellowish
in color. Unfortunately, many were crudely drilled with large holes, and
had been strung on gold wires by which they were attached to the idols
they decorated at the time they were stolen. More than one hundred, each
over thirty grains in weight, were received in England, and sold at an
average of nearly one thousand dollars.

A similar booty came from the spoliation during the war between China
and Japan in 1894, and during the Boxer outbreaks of 1901, and
quantities of pearls, often large and of fine color, but a little the
worse for wear, were brought to the United States and Europe by the
soldiers and officials, and also by traders and travelers who obtained
them in China. The pendant figured is one of these objects.


THE GOGIBUS PEARL. This famous pearl, said to have been the largest in
Europe, weighed no less than 126 carats (504 grains). It was pear-shaped
and of fine orient, and was brought from the West Indies, in 1620, by
François Gogibus, a native of Calais, who sold it to Philip IV of Spain.
As no match could be found for this magnificent gem, it was mounted as a
button in the royal cap.[513]


LA REINE DES PERLES. The large round pearl of the French crown jewels
which is listed in the inventory of 1791 at 200,000 francs, was
purchased in 1669[514] for the sum of 40,000 livres, from a gem dealer
named Bazu, who had traveled in the East at about the time of
Tavernier’s voyage. In the inventory of 1691, it is described as “a
virgin pearl, perfect, round, and of fine water,” weighing 27½ carats
and valued at 90,000 livres. When the greater part of the jewels were
stolen from the Garde-Meuble in 1792, we are told that the thieves took
a pearl inclosed in a gold box on which was written: “The queen of
pearls.” This was most probably the one we have described and there is
reason to believe that this same pearl came later into the possession of
the Zozima brothers, and was called La Pellegrina.


LA RÉGENTE. This name was bestowed upon a big, ovate pearl which was in
the collection of the French crown jewels. This pearl, which weighs 337
grains, was furnished in November, 1811, by the court jewelers, Messrs.
Noitat, for a tiara, worn by Marie Louise, Empress of France. By order
of the emperor, Napoleon III, the pearl was taken out of the tiara and
mounted, in August, 1853, by the Paris jeweler Lemounier into a brooch.
This great brooch, with “La Régente” as the central gem, was bought by
Faberge & Company of St. Petersburg, Russia, for the Princess
Youssoupoff at the “Vente des Diamants de la Couronne” in 1887.


LA PELLEGRINA. For nearly a century there has been in Russia one of the
most lovely pearls in the world; this is La Pellegrina, formerly owned
by the Zozima brothers of Moscow, who were antiquarians of note in St.
Petersburg. In 1818 a small book of forty-eight pages was written about
this beautiful gem by G. Fischer de Waldheim, vice-president of the
Imperial Medico-Chirurgical Academy, probably the only book ever devoted
to a single pearl. According to this writer, La Pellegrina was purchased
at Leghorn by one of the Zozima brothers from an English admiral who had
just returned from India. It combines all the requisites of perfection:
it is absolutely spherical and has never been pierced; its luster, its
silvery sheen, make it appear almost transparent, and for a pearl of
this high grade, it is of remarkable size, weighing 111½ grains.

The Zozima brothers retained it in a sea-urchin shell mounted in gold
and with a convex lens as cover; this was contained in a silver box, and
this in turn in another box studded with gems. Although the lens
enlarged the appearance of the pearl, it detracted from its beautiful
form, giving it an oval shape. But when removed from the triple
inclosure, it rolled about like a globule of quicksilver, and surpassed
that metal in whiteness and brilliancy.

Everything that is beautiful and perfect takes such possession of
the beholder that words become insufficient to express his feelings;
and that is what happened to me in the case of La Pellegrina of
Zozima. One must have seen an object of this kind in order to
appreciate the impression it makes. As an evidence of this, I shall
note the last visit which I made to the owner in company with
several distinguished persons.

After having examined many curious medals and coins, and also some
pearls which exceeded in size the one of which I treat, and after
they had received their due meed of admiration, La Pellegrina
appeared, rolled upon a sheet of paper by the owner’s little finger.
Attention and admiration was depicted on every face; a perfect
silence reigned. It was only when the pearl had been removed very
carefully lest it should slip away, and was again triply enclosed,
that we recovered the power of speech and could unanimously express
our admiration.[515]

As it had been stated that this pearl was in the possession of the
Princess Youssoupoff, Mr. Henry W. Hiller of New York, who was in St.
Petersburg, courteously made inquiries and was successful in obtaining a
view of the two splendid pear-shaped pearls. These are almost exactly
alike, but neither of them can well be La Pellegrina, since this is a
round pearl; possibly the one on the right may be La Peregrina.[516]

The owner of La Pellegrina in 1818, Z. P. Zozima, died in Moscow at a
great age, in 1827. He was a Greek dealer in curiosities and gems, who
had resided in Moscow for a long time, and had many clients among the
nobility of Russia. It is stated that a few months before his death the
best pieces of his collection, including La Pellegrina, were stolen from
him by a compatriot.


MOSCOW PEARL, 1840. The German traveler, Johann Georg Kohl (1808–1878),
in the account of his travels in Russia, relates an interesting incident
connected with a beautiful pearl in the Imperial Treasury. Shortly
previous to 1840, a rich Moscow merchant died in a convent, whither he
had retreated after the manner of the wealthy pious ones of his nation.
Feeling the approach of age, he had given up the toils of business to
his sons. His wife was dead, and the only beloved object which even in
the cloister was not separated from him was a large, beautiful, oriental
pearl. This precious object had been purchased for him by some Persian
or Arabian friend at a high price, and, enchanted by its water,
magnificent size, and color, its perfect shape and luster, he would
never part with it, however enormous the sum offered. He himself
inhabited an ordinary cell in the convent; but this object of his love
reposed on silk in a golden casket. It was shown to few persons, and
favorable circumstances and strong recommendations were necessary to
obtain such a favor. A Moscow resident reported the style and manner of
the ceremony. On the appointed day he went with his friends to the
convent, and found the old gentleman awaiting his guests in his holiday
clothes. Their reception had something of solemnity about it. The old
man went into his cell and brought out the casket in its rich covering.
He spread white satin on the table, and, unlocking the casket, let the
precious pearl roll out before the enchanted eyes of the spectators. No
one ventured to touch it, but all burst into acclamations, and the old
man’s eyes gleamed like his pearl. After a short time it was returned to
the casket. During his last illness, the old gentleman never let the
pearl out of his hand, and after his death it was with difficulty taken
from his stiffened fingers.

There seems to be a great similarity between the description of this
pearl and that of La Pellegrina, although we have been unable to verify
our surmise as to their identity.


THE HOPE PEARL. In the first half of the last century, Henry Philip
Hope, a London banker, brought together a great collection of gems,
among which were many pearls. The most famous of these was the
often-described Hope pearl, one of the largest known; the value of
which, however, is not in proportion to its size, owing to its irregular
formation. As described in the catalogue of the Hope collection,
published in 1839, this oriental pearl is of an irregular pear-shape,
weighs 1800 grains, or three ounces, measures two inches in length, and
in circumference four and one half inches at the broadest and three and
one fourth inches at the narrowest end. The color at the larger end is
of a bronze or a dark green copper tint, this gradually clearing into a
fine white luster for within one and one half inches of the smaller end.
This baroque pearl was firmly attached to the shell, and it yet shows
the point of attachment, which has been polished so as to correspond to
the remaining portion. It is attractively mounted, the smaller end being
capped with an arched crown of red enameled gold set with diamonds,
rubies, and emeralds.[517] After remaining in the Hope jewel collection
at the South Kensington Museum for many years, it was sold at auction,
at Christie’s, in 1886, when that collection was placed on the market.
This pearl is now held by Messrs. Garrard & Company of London, at the
price of £9000.

The Hope collection also contained about 148 pearls of good form.
Notable among these were the following: (a) a conical pearl weighing
151 grains, cream-white in color, from Polynesia; (b) a bouton pearl
of 124 grains, bluish-white at the top and encircled by a dark bronze
color; (c) an oval cream-colored pearl, weighing ninety-four grains,
from the South Seas; (d) an eighty-nine-grain, roughly spherical
pearl, one side bluish and the other of a light bronze; (e) an
eighty-five-grain, acorn-shaped, bluish-white pearl, with a band of
opaque white near the base; (f) an oval conch pearl, pink in general
color and somewhat whitish at the ends, weighing eighty-two and one
fourth grains; (g) another conch pearl, seventy-seven and one half
grains, button-shaped, yellowish white with a slight shade of pink;
(h) a seventy-six-and-one-half-grain drop-shaped pearl of a
_chatoyant_ aspect, of white color shaded with red, purple, and green;
and (i) a pear-shaped Scottish pearl of thirty-four and three fourths
grains, of a milky bluish caste, slightly tinged with pink.


VAN BUREN PEARLS. Among the collections of the United States National
Museum are two pendant pearls each weighing about thirty grains, and a
necklace containing 148 pearls with an aggregate weight of 700 grains.
These were presented in 1840 to President Van Buren by the Imam of
Muscat. They were deposited in the vaults of the Treasury Department,
where they remained until a few years ago, when, by the order of the
Secretary of the Treasury, they were transferred to the custody of the
National Museum where they now are.

THIERS NECKLACE. In the galleries of the Louvre at Paris may be seen a
pearl necklace formerly owned by the wife of President Thiers
(1797–1887), consisting of 145 pearls in three rows. The weights of the
three largest individual pearls are fifty-one, thirty-nine, and
thirty-six grains, respectively. The aggregate weight is 2079 grains,
and the value at the time of their deposit was estimated at 300,000
francs. This is on a base of $2.02; at a higher valuation the figures
would be:

$148,947 = $71.64 per grain; base, $5
238,315 = 114.63 per grain; base, 8

the last being very probably nearer to the correct value of the necklace
at the present time.


TIFFANY QUEEN PEARL. Doubtless the most famous pearl ever found within
the limits of the United States, and likewise one of the choicest, is
the well-known “Queen Pearl,” found in Notch Brook near Paterson, New
Jersey, in 1857.[518] In form it is a perfect sphere, and weighs
ninety-three grains. The history of the discovery and of the sale of
this beautiful gem is set forth on page 260.


THE BAPST PEARLS. Very practical is the account given by Streeter of a
pair of magnificent spherical pearls exhibited at the Paris Exhibition
in 1878 by Messrs. Bapst of Paris. One of these pearls—then weighing 116
grains—was purchased by Mr. Streeter in 1877, and by him sold to a
leading merchant of London, who skilfully removed a blemish on it,
reducing it to 113¾ grains in weight. After holding it for some months,
it occurred to him that it would match a pearl sold by Hunt and Roskell
to Dhuleep Singh about fifteen years previously. On comparison, the two
were found to match perfectly, one weighing 113¾ and the other 113¼
grains. The two were eventually sold early in 1878 “for £4800, which was
even then much below their value, and to-day they would be worth
£10,000. They were exhibited in the great Paris Exposition in 1878,
where they attracted universal attention, and were pronounced by
connoisseurs to be the most extraordinary pair of pearls ever seen in
Europe. They were sold from the exhibition to an individual for a very
large sum.”[519]


THE “SOUTHERN CROSS.” The “Southern Cross” is an unusual pearl or rather
cluster of pearls which attracted much attention twenty years ago. It
consists of nine attached pearls forming a Roman cross about one and one
half inches in length, seven pearls constituting the shaft or standard,
while the arms are formed by one pearl on each side of the second one
from the upper end. The luster is good, but the individual pearls are
not perfect spheres, being mutually compressed at the point of juncture
and considerably flattened at the back. If separated, the aggregate
value of the individual pearls would be small, and the celebrity of the
ornament is due almost exclusively to its form. This striking formation
was exhibited at the Colonial and Indian Exhibition at London in 1886,
and later at the Paris Exhibition in 1889, where it was the center of
interest, and obtained a gold medal for the exhibitors. It is reported
that an effort was made to bring about its sale at £10,000, the owners
suggesting that it was especially appropriate for presentation to Leo
XIII, on the occasion of his jubilee in 1896. The writers have been
unable to obtain information as to its present location.

Much information relative to the “Southern Cross” was volunteered by
Henry Taunton in the very interesting account of his wanderings in
Australia. He presents apparently reliable statements showing that it
was found on March 26, 1883, off Baldwin Creek in Lat. 17° S. and Long.
122° E., by a boy named Clark, in the employ of James W. S. Kelly, a
master pearler. When delivered to Kelly, it was in three distinct
pieces, but the boy reported that it was in one piece when he found it a
few hours before. Kelly sold it in the three pieces in which he received
it for £10 to a fellow pearler named Roy; Roy sold it for £40 to a man
named Craig, and he sold it to an Australian syndicate.

However, according to Taunton’s positive statement, there were only
eight pearls in the cluster when it was sold by Kelly in 1883, and to
make it resemble a well-proportioned cross—the right arm being
absent—another pearl of suitable size and shape was subsequently secured
at Cossack and attached in the proper place to the others, which, in the
meantime, had been refastened together by diamond cement, thus making
three artificial joints in the present cluster. “As if to assist in the
deception, nature had fashioned a hollow in the side of the central
pearl just where the added pearl would have to be fitted; and—the whole
pearling fleet with their pearls and shells coming into Cossack about
this time—it was no difficult matter to select a pearl of the right size
and with the convexity required. The holder paid some ten or twelve
pounds for the option of selecting a pearl within given limits; and then
once more, with the aid of diamond cement and that of a skilful ‘faker,’
this celebrated gem was transformed into a perfect cross.”[520]


MORGAN-TIFFANY COLLECTION. Probably the most interesting assortment of
American pearls is the Morgan-Tiffany Collection in the American Museum
of Natural History, New York. The excellence of this collection lies,
not in the high cost of any individual pearl, but in its illustrating in
a comprehensive manner the great variety, colors, and forms of American
pearls. Not only are the many varieties of fresh-water pearls
represented, but likewise abalone pearls from the Pacific coast, conch
pearls from the Gulf of Mexico, and a good assortment of pearly
concretions from edible oysters and clams of the Atlantic coast.

This collection contains 557 species of white and colored Unio pearls,
four multicolored, five mallet-shapes, 166 baroques, thirty-nine hinge
pearls, twenty pearlaceous masses, thirty-four clam (Venus) pearls,
fifteen abalone pearls, eleven conch pearls, and twelve oyster (Ostrea)
pearls. The collection was exhibited in two parts, the first at the
Paris Exposition of 1889, and the second at the Paris Exposition of
1900. On each occasion a gold medal was awarded.


COUNT BATTHYANI’S PEARL. A curious history is connected with a beautiful
black pearl[521] which was at one time in the possession of Count Louis
Batthyani, the premier of the revolutionary government of Hungary. The
count was shot in 1849, by the orders of a court-martial, and on the eve
of his execution he gave the pearl, which he had worn mounted on a
scarf-pin, to his trusty and faithful valet. The latter left it to his
son, who, when in straightened circumstances, sought to raise money upon
the pearl. The pawnbroker of the small town was distrustful of its value
and took it to Budapest for appraisal. There the suspicions of the
authorities were aroused, an investigation was ordered, and it was
finally discovered that the pearl had been stolen one hundred and fifty
years before from the English crown. The English government redeemed it
for the sum of £2500 ($12,500). How it came into the possession of Count
Batthyani is a mystery; probably he purchased it from some antiquarian.

In 1900 there was shown in Paris one of the most important black pearls
of any time, a pear-shaped pearl of forty-nine grains, of a most
wonderful black color with a green sheen, as perfectly formed as though
it had been turned out of a lathe; it did not terminate in a point at
the small end, but was slightly flattened. It was so beautiful an object
that it almost seemed it should never be drilled for mounting. This
pearl ultimately sold for more than $30,000, and it is probably the
finest black pearl that has ever reached the European markets.

According to a personal communication from E. Z. Steever, governor of
the District of Sulu, the largest pearl that he has seen in the islands
belongs to the sultan, and is now in the possession of Hadji Butu,
former prime minister. It is an oblate spheroid, there being a trifling
difference between the two diameters. The upper hemisphere is very
beautiful; the lower one has a few minute, black specks which are
superficial and could be easily removed, the pearl not having been
treated since it was taken from the oyster. This pearl measures five
eighths of an inch at its greatest diameter and is said to weigh twelve
carats (forty-eight grains). Hadji Butu informed Governor Steever that
the sultan had refused $25,000 for the pearl in Singapore.

The Nordica pearl is the finest abalone of which we have any record. It
weighs 175 grains, is a drop pearl of a greenish hue, with brilliant red
fire-like flashes, and serves as a pendant to the famous collection of
colored pearls belonging to the beloved and admired American prima
donna, Madam Nordica.

At the International Exposition in Paris in 1889, Mr. Alphonse Falco,
president of the Chambre Syndicale, exhibited a round pearl, white and
lustrous, weighing seventy grains, and valued at 50,000 francs.

Augusto Castellani, the well-known Italian jeweler of Rome, in the year
1868, during the Papal regime, executed a crown for King Victor Emmanuel
II. This crown was destined for the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, in
Jerusalem, and on it is a pearl which, although slightly irregular, is
as large as the famous Gogibus pearl.

A remarkable golden-yellow pearl from Shark’s Bay, West Australia, is in
the possession of a New York lady; it weighs thirty and one half grains,
is perfectly round, and is without a flaw or blemish.


CROWN JEWELS OF FRANCE. The collection of gems known as the Crown Jewels
of France owed its origin to Francis I (1494–1547). While in Bordeaux,
on his way to meet his bride, Eleanor of Austria, sister of Emperor
Charles V, Francis created by letter patent the Treasure of the Crown
Jewels, giving to the state a number of his most valued diamonds, under
the condition that at each change of sovereign a careful inventory
should be made. The original collection consisted of six pieces of
jewelry valued at 272,242 “_écus soleil_,” or about $700,000. The crown
jewels have passed through many vicissitudes in the course of time. A
number of the gems were at various times pledged as security for loans
made in France and Italy, and it is said that in 1588, during the reign
of Henry III, all the jewels disappeared from the royal treasury. Henry
IV strove to regather the scattered ornaments, but it was only in the
reign of Louis XIV that the collection became really important. At the
time of the French Revolution, in 1791, an inventory was made by the
order of the National Assembly.

The jewels were then deposited in the Garde-Meuble, where they were
exposed to public view. Either they were very carelessly guarded, or the
guardians were in collusion with a band of thieves, for the room wherein
they were kept was entered on five successive nights, and when the theft
was finally discovered only about 500,000 francs’ ($100,000) worth of
the gems remained. Many of the most valuable objects were, however,
traced and recovered. Napoleon I, when he became emperor, made every
effort to enrich the treasure, and purchased gems to the value of
6,000,000 francs ($1,200,000), and subsequent rulers added to the
collection on various occasions.

At the time of the official inventory in 1791 the entire collection of
pearls was estimated at about 1,000,000 francs ($200,000). The finest
specimen in the collection was a splendid round pearl weighing 109¼
grains[522] and estimated at 200,000 francs ($40,000), or $366 per
grain, on a base of $3.35. Then came two pear-shaped pearls of a fine
orient and well-matched, weighing respectively 117¾ and 113 grains, and
valued at 300,000 francs ($60,000) or $260 per grain, on a base of
$2.25. In addition to the above there were twenty-five separate round
pearls which had constituted the necklace of the queen; they ranged in
weight from 36 to 165½ grains, and were valued at about 90,000 francs
($18,000). Beside the pear-shaped pearls to which we have alluded, there
were two other pairs, each valued at 32,000 francs ($6400) for the two
pearls; they averaged about 100 grains in weight. In addition to these
there were two weighing respectively 175½ and 205¼ grains, each valued
at 20,000 francs ($4000), and seven others ranging in weight from 92½ to
167 grains and valued at from 10,000 to 15,000 francs ($2000 to $3000).
The best oval pearl was one weighing seventy-six and one half grains and
estimated at 20,000 francs ($4000); there were two others, one of
ninety-three grains, valued at 12,000 francs ($2400), and one of 121
grains, valued at 10,000 francs ($2000). We may also mention an
egg-shaped pearl weighing 145¼ grains, estimated as worth 10,000 francs
($2000), and a button pearl of 198 grains entered at 15,000 francs
($3000). Beside these separate pearls there were eleven strings
comprising 310 pearls, weighing in all 6778 grains and valued at but
29,400 francs (about $6000). The average per pearl was 95 francs ($19),
less than one dollar a grain.

These pearls, according to their beauty, would now be worth from four to
six times the valuation here given, so that the two large pear-shaped
pearls of the French crown may be worth to-day $200,000 and the great
round pearl from $100,000 to $250,000.

Many of these pearls were a century old. They were collected at a time
when not as much attention was paid to their absolute perfection and
beauty as at the present time, for there probably never has been a
period when rare and perfect pearls, diamonds, or rubies have been
appreciated so much more highly than those of mediocre quality.

RECAPITULATION

Weight in grains Value
No. Average Total Francs U. S. currency
Round Pearls 1 109¼ 200,000 $40,000
3 79 238½ 29,000 5,800
11 77¼ 804½ 37,300 7,460
7 64½ 450½ 19,400 3,880
14 53¾ 753¼ 23,100 4,620
43 34½ 1488½ 16,100 3,220
Pear-shaped 2 115⅜ 230¾ 300,000 60,000
4 99¼ 397½ 64,000 12,800
6 163⅛ 978¾ 92,000 18,400
8 114¼ 914¼ 55,000 11,000
47 42¼ 1989¾ 24,600 4,920
Oval 3 27 290½ 42,000 8,400
9 72½ 654¼ 20,100 4,020
11 43 473¾ 5,000 1,000
Egg-shaped 1 145¼ 10,000 2,000
Irregular 12 39½ 475¼ 7,300 1,460
Button 1 198 15,000 3,000
6 66¼ 398 4,900 980
Baroque 4 37½ 150¾ 1,500 300
Strings 310 21⅞ 6778 29,400 5,880
——- ——— ——————— ——————— ————————
503 35⅜ 17,919¼ 995,700 $199,140


After the downfall of Napoleon III and the proclamation of the French
Republic, the jewels were inventoried, and, by a law passed December 10,
1886, it was decreed that a large part of the treasure should be sold at
public auction. The sale was held in the Pavilion de Flore, a part of
the Palace of the Tuileries, on May 12, 1887, and, very naturally, all
the principal gem dealers and collectors were represented. A number of
remarkable pearl ornaments were among the objects offered at this sale,
one of the most beautiful being a diadem of an exceptionally artistic
openwork design, adorned with large, round pearls and surmounted by a
row of magnificent pear-shaped pearls. The total number of pearls in
this diadem was 212, and their weight 2452 grains. It was sold for the
sum of 78,000 francs ($15,600). The coronet which accompanied the diadem
comprised 274 pearls, weighing 984 grains; the design was similar to
that of the diadem, but the points consisted of a round and a
pear-shaped pearl in alternation. This ornament realized the sum of
30,000 francs ($6000). A large brooch of very elaborate and beautiful
design, beside a number of smaller pearls, comprised four fine,
pear-shaped pendants, weighing 100 grains each, and two choice bouton
pearls, and had in the center the famous pearl known as “La Régente,”
which was purchased in 1811 for 40,000 francs ($8000). This splendid
ornament brought the sum of 176,000 francs ($35,200). Four other
brooches each contained seven pearls and many brilliants, the
twenty-eight pearls having a total weight of 1496 grains, an average of
more than fifty-three grains. Each brooch had two pearls surrounded with
brilliants, and five large, pear-shaped pearls set as pendants. They
were sold to different purchasers at prices ranging from 18,500 francs
($3700) to 43,000 francs ($8600), the four together realizing 113,500
francs ($22,700).

Six pearl necklaces were also offered. One of forty-seven pearls
weighing 698 grains was sold for 34,600 francs ($6920), and two others,
each consisting of fifty-eight pearls, with a total weight of 524 and
400 grains respectively, brought the sum of 22,300 francs ($4460) and
15,000 francs ($3000). Another necklace composed of thirty-eight round
pearls and nine pear-shaped pendants, the total weight being 1612
grains, sold for 74,300 francs ($14,860). The two finest necklaces were
broken up into a number of separate lots. One of them, consisting of 362
pearls and weighing in all 5808 grains,—an average of a trifle over
sixteen grains,—was offered in four lots which together brought 295,800
francs ($59,160). The other necklace comprised 542 pearls weighing 6752
grains, and was disposed of in eight lots, realizing in all 331,800
francs ($66,360). Two bracelets adorned with 202 pearls and a number of
small brilliants were purchased for the sum of 90,200 francs ($18,040).
The total amount realized for the pearl ornaments was 1,261,500 francs
($252,300). There are several American ladies who own single strings of
pearls which are of more value than the whole pearl parure of the
Empress Eugénie.

Pearl parure of the crown jewels of France, worn by the Empress Eugénie,
and sold at the Tuileries, May 12, 1887.

A diadem containing 212 pearls, weighing 2452 grains.

A coronet with 274 pearls, weighing 984 grains.

Four brooches, each containing four large pearls, two round, two
pear-shaped, and three smaller ones, weighing in all 1496 grains.

A larger brooch comprising four large pear-shaped pearls, each weighing
100 grains. In the center is the pearl called “La Régente.”

Two necklaces each consisting of forty-seven pearls, with an aggregate
weight of 698 and 1612 grains, respectively.

Two bracelets with 202 pearls, weighing 2000 grains.

Five buttons, three with nine and two with ten pearls.

A necklace of 542 pearls, weighing 6752 grains.

Another necklace of 362 pearls, weighing 5808 grains.

Two other necklaces, each containing fifty-eight pearls, the total
weight being 400 and 524 grains, respectively.

SUMMARY OF THE PRINCIPAL PEARL ORNAMENTS FORMING THE PEARL PARURE OF
THE FRENCH CROWN JEWELS SOLD AT PALACE OF THE TUILERIES IN MAY, 1887

Designation No. of pearls Aggregate weight Amount rec’d
grains francs

1 necklace 362 5,808 295,800

1 necklace 542 6,752 331,800

1 necklace 47 698 34,600

1 necklace 58 524 22,300

1 necklace 58 400 15,000

1 necklace 47 1,612 74,300

2 bracelets 202 2,000 90,200

1 large diadem 212 2,452 78,000

1 coronet 274 984 30,000

1 brooch 45 1,200 176,000

4 brooches 28 1,496 113,500

———— —————— ———-———-—

Total 1875 23,926 1,261,500


IMPERIAL AUSTRIAN SCHATZKAMMER. The weights and values of the great
gathering of pearls of the imperial Austrian Schatzkammer were carefully
estimated by one of the authors and by his friends, and it is the first
attempted inventory ever published.[523]

The imperial crown of the Holy Roman Empire, preserved in the treasury
of the imperial Burg at Vienna, and known as the crown of Charlemagne,
has in front seventeen pearls weighing 424 grains, of which two weigh
fifty-six grains each. The remaining fifteen pearls average 20.8 grains.
The values of these pearls are as follows:

Base
$2.50 $5.00 $7.50
15 pearls, 20.8 grains $16,224 $32,448 $48,672
2 56–grain pearls 15,680 31,360 47,040
——————— ——————— ———————
Total $31,904 $63,808 $95,712

At the back of the crown there are eighteen pearls, weighing 180 grains.
One of these has a weight of twenty-six grains; the remaining seventeen
average 9.058 grains. The values estimated are as follows:

Base
$2.50 $5.00 $7.50
17 pearls, 9.058 grains $3,487.55 $6,975.10 $10,462.65
1 pearl of 26 grains 1,690.00 3,380.00 5,070.00
——————— ——————— ———————
Total $5,177.55 $10,355.10 $15,532.65

The pearls in the cross surmounting the crown have a weight of
thirty-six grains.

The imperial cross is profusely ornamented with pearls in front, while
the back consists simply of silver-gilt. There are three strings of
pearls in the front running in each direction. The total weight of the
pearls is 4092 grains; one weighing sixty-four grains, and the smallest
two grains.

The crucifix of the Golden Fleece is ornamented only in front with
pearls; these have a weight of but 136 grains.

The imperial Austrian regalia, dating from the time of Emperor Rudolph
II, are also in the imperial Burg; some of the emperor’s jewels were
sold at auction in Prague in 1728.

The crown is adorned with two rows of pearls, weighing respectively 960
and 840 grains; between these rows are pearls having a total weight of
440 grains, while the ornaments and eight large drops weigh 2052 grains.
The largest pearl on this crown weighs 104 grains. It is drop-shaped and
belonged to Rudolph II; it is slightly uneven and the color, although
white, is not that of a new pearl, but this pearl has a positive history
of three hundred and six years, and at the present time is probably the
oldest known unchanged pearl with a direct and authentic record.

The imperial orb is studded with pearls weighing in all 1560 grains.
Four of these weigh forty grains each, the others are of lesser size,
the smallest weighing ten grains. The scepter is adorned with pearls to
the weight of 300 grains.

In addition to these insignia and regalia there are in the treasury two
magnificent pearl necklaces, deposited by Empress Maria Theresa in 1765.
The first consists of a single string of 114 large-sized pearls with the
“Baden Solitaire,” a diamond of 30 carats, as a clasp. Three of these
pearls weigh from 92 to 100 grains each, and the whole string has a
total weight of 3400 grains. This would give us the following values,
the pearls averaging 29.82 grains.

Base
$2.50 $253,432.12
5.00 506,864.24

The other necklace contains 121 pearls of a total weight of 3788 grains,
arranged in three rows; these pearls average 31.3 grains, the largest
weighing forty grains and the smallest ten grains. The necklace has a
diamond clasp of 14–1⁄32 carats. The pearls are worth:

Base
$2.50 $296,450
5.00 592,900
7.50 889,350

Two bracelets with brilliant clasps, belonging to the same set, and
consisting of 240 medium-sized pearls weighing 2800 grains and averaging
11⅔ grains, have the following values:

Base
$2.50 $81,658.80
5.00 163,317.60
7.50 244,976.40

There is also a pendant of six pearls, weighing 300 grains and averaging
fifty grains; these pearls are worth:

Base
$2.50 $37,500
5.00 75,000
7.50 112,500

Another necklace, bequeathed to the treasury by the late Empress
Caroline Augusta, consists of eighty-six pearls disposed in two rows,
the largest pearl weighing seventy-two grains and the smallest eight
grains. The total weight is 2600 grains and the average, 30.2. This
necklace is worth:

Base
$2.50 $196,088.60
5.00 392,177.20
7.50 588,265.80

Still another necklace is composed altogether of black pearls, of which
there are thirty, the largest weighing forty-eight grains and the
smallest ten. The total weight of this necklace is 1040 grains, an
average of 34.66 grains for each pearl. On a base of $5 this necklace is
worth $180,150.

The diamond crown of the empress bears pearls to the total weight of
2000 grains; among them are four weighing 100 grains each. These pearls
alone, on a $5 base, would be worth $200,000.


The total weight of the pearls in all these ornaments is 35,816 grains,
equal to four and a half pounds, avoirdupois, and they are worth from
$2,000,000 to $4,000,000.

The so-called crown of Charlemagne bears the inscription: “Chuonradus
Rex Dei gratia Romanorum Imperator Aug.” It is believed to be a work of
the twelfth century and originally the royal crown of Conrad III, king
of the Germans (1093–1152), the first Hohenstaufen.[524] The arch is
said to have been added to adapt this royal crown for use in the
expected coronation of Conrad as emperor. He died, however, while making
preparations for his journey to Rome.

The imperial vestments used in the coronation ceremonies of the Holy
Roman Empire, were produced in the celebrated Hôtel de Tirâz, at
Palermo. Roger II, King of Sicily (1096–1154), after a victorious
campaign in Greece, brought back with him to Sicily a number of skilled
silk-weavers and embroiderers, whom he established at Palermo. The
imperial mantle is of a brilliant purple and bears an inscription,
embroidered in gold and pearls, stating that the garment was made in the
royal manufactory in the year 1133. Two pearl-embroidered
representations of a lion, who has stricken down a camel and is about to
tear it to pieces, also appear on this mantle. This symbol of royal
power was used frequently by the Saracens, and it is said that Richard
Cœur de Lion had this design embroidered on his saddlecloths.[525]

A fine collection of large baroque pearls is preserved in the Grüne
Gewölbe (Green Vaults) in the palace at Dresden, which contains the
treasures of the royal family of Saxony. Most of these were mounted
during the eighteenth century by J. M. Dinglinger (1665–1731), the
famous goldsmith to the Saxon Elector, King Augustus II of Poland, and
who is sometimes called the German Cellini. A splendid specimen of his
work is a vase of Egyptian jasper in the shape of a shell, bearing a
representation of Hercules fighting with the Nemæan lion; this bears
reference to the immense personal strength and power of Augustus II,
whose portrait is painted in enamel on a mirror at the back. The
pedestal is adorned with a great many precious stones, pearls, and
enamel paintings in the shape of cameos representing the twelve labors
of Hercules. A dragon is studded with emeralds and its back is formed of
pearls, with a large sardonyx in the middle. Hercules and the lion are
in enamel.

In the same collection may be seen the figure of a dwarf made by
Ferbecq, who was one of the goldsmiths of King Augustus. The body of the
dwarf is formed of a baroque pearl, which is studded with small
diamonds. His sleeves and trousers are in black and green enamel; his
hat is also of green enamel and on it is a string of diamonds. In his
right hand the dwarf holds a spit and in his left a roast. On his left
shoulder he bears a goose, the upper part of whose body is formed of a
pearl; at his right side hangs a bottle also formed of a pearl. The
gilded pedestal is ornamented with white enamel work on a pink ground.
Above and below, it is set with white and yellow diamonds. Another
figure, similarly formed of a large baroque pearl ornamented with gold
and diamonds, shows a drunken vintager and his dog; and an exceedingly
grotesque, ornamented baroque is said to bear a striking resemblance to
Señor Pepe, the court dwarf of Charles II of Spain.

Exhibited at the Palace of Rosenberg at Copenhagen, are similar designs
in which large baroques form the principal part of fish, birds, dragons,
mermaids, etc. Prominent among them is the figure of a skater, executed
by the jeweler, Diederichsen; it is said that this was made for
Frederick VII, who died before it was accepted, and in 1895 it was
presented to the museum.

A beautiful and costly figure of this nature was completed a year or two
ago by the court jeweler, Alfred Dragsen, of Copenhagen. This is nearly
four inches in height, and represents a female snake-charmer. A very
long baroque pearl forms the body from the shoulders to the knees, and
the head, arms, and the legs below the knees are of gold. The figure is
ornamented with a diamond-studded garland, ruby necklace and earrings,
and garters set with similar gems, a red enameled girdle ornamented with
pearls, and golden anklets with black pearls. With a flute she charms a
serpent twined about her body and grasped with the other hand.

What is said to be the finest collection of black pearls in all Europe
is that belonging to the Duchess of Anhalt Dessau, Germany. It consists
of three large caskets of black pearls that have taken a century to
collect. It is traditional in the family that these pearls are never to
be sold except as their last possession, since they know they will
always find a purchaser.

A collection of pearls had been kept for many years in the Monte de
Piedad of Mexico City, which it was claimed had been pawned by a friend
of the Empress Carlotta, in order to provide her with money at the time
of the assassination of Emperor Maximilian. These pearls were contained
in a necklace and a pearl and diamond tiara, which were sewn upon
cardboard covered with black velvet, and had the appearance of not
having been disturbed for many years. The necklace consisted of old
pearls, both of the so-called Madras and Panama varieties; in the center
was a large diamond medallion from which pear-shaped pearls were
suspended. It is believed that these pearls were part of Empress
Carlotta’s marriage portion, and that they came from the Austrian crown
jewel collection. None of them possessed much quality with the exception
of one, a large pear-shaped pearl which was set at the base of the
necklace and weighed eighty-four grains. The drilling of this pearl was
of a very old style, being of that type in which a tube is inserted in
the drill hole, through which a gold wire passes to hold the pearl; a
diamond is then set at the base of the tube to disguise the drill mark.
It is, however, possible that the pearl came from the East Indies, where
large drill holes are usual.

The pearls were sent in bond to the United States as a collection, and
then to Europe, where they were sold separately, the pear-shaped pearl
appearing again in the New York market in 1906. There has been some
doubt as to these really being Carlotta’s pearls, but the Mexican
account is fairly consistent, and it satisfactorily disposes of the
newspaper romance in which it was claimed that Carlotta had taken these
pearls with her to Europe and that they had been buried in a casket in
the Adriatic Sea.


RECENT AUCTION SALES. In England and in France, more than in the United
States, great auction sales of jewels are common. They are held in
London, principally at Christie’s, originally a coffee house,
established in 1880; and in Paris, at the Hôtel Drouot. Good prices are
generally realized, as the buyers of the entire continent attend these
great sales. The purchases are usually made by dealers who frequently do
not neglect each other’s interests if private buyers are present. No
matter how great may be the amount involved, no matter whether the
collections consist of paintings, furniture, or jewels, there are always
buyers, to a much greater extent than in the United States. The price
for fine jewels may naturally vary a trifle in the different markets,
according to the conditions of payment. It must evidently make an
appreciable difference whether almost the entire amount is paid in cash
or whether a credit of thirty days is extended, or one for a much longer
period, in some countries for as long as one, two, or even three years.

While in the United States such sales of valuable jewels are very
unusual, it has been a custom in England and in France for many years,
in the settlement of estates, to sell not only the furniture,
bric-à-brac, etc., but also the jewels. Sales of this kind are naturally
calculated to attract not only the dealers, but also many rich
collectors and connoisseurs, and as they are frequently widely
advertised, and London and Paris are, at the most, but one to two days’
journey from all parts of Europe, many people attend, most of the
private buyers being represented by their agents. By means of these
sales many heirlooms, which have been handed down from generation to
generation, often pass into the possession of strangers. In the matter
of jewels, it has been frequently noticed that dealers are in the
majority of cases the ultimate buyers, and it has also been inferred
that when an outsider participates in the bidding, the prices are
advanced to such an extent that it does not often appear profitable for
him to buy in the face of such competition. All manner of people have
had their estates disposed of in this way, and the list of these sales
during the past twenty years is a striking one: royalty, nobility,
merchants, and people in many other conditions of life find a place in
it.

It is not an infrequent custom in London for solicitors to advance money
on jewels, and when the payments are not forthcoming these jewels are
sold. Hence, many sales appear at the larger auction rooms in which no
name is given, the owners frequently being people of high degree.

On July 19, 1892, a necklace containing eighty-five graduated pearls
of unusual size and quality, the property of the late H. W. F.
Bolchow, M.P., was sold in London for the sum of £2500 ($12,500).
Another necklace of 146 fine graduated pearls disposed in two rows,
brought £2400 ($12,000); a single-row necklace of eighty-five pearls
realized £1600 ($8000), and one of 118 pearls in two rows £1660
($8300).

An exceptionally fine pearl necklace which belonged to her Grace the
late Caroline, Duchess of Montrose, mother of the present Duke of
Montrose, was sold at Christie’s on April 30, 1895. The necklace
comprised 362 graduated pearls, arranged in seven rows of
forty-four, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty-two,
fifty-eight, and sixty-four pearls, respectively. The amount
realized for this ornament was £11,500 ($57,500).

On July 9, 1901, a pearl necklace, advertised as the property of “a
French lady of rank,” and several other valuable pearl ornaments,
were offered at Christie’s. It is supposed by many that these jewels
belonged to Madame Humbert. The necklace was composed of six rows of
graduated pearls consisting of fifty-five, sixty-one, sixty-seven,
seventy-three, seventy-nine, and eighty-nine pearls, respectively, a
total of 424, all of good color and luster. A London dealer
considers that they owed their value mainly to skilful matching and
fineness of color; they are perhaps a century old. As may be
supposed, there were many bidders who competed eagerly for
possession of this fine ornament, and it was at last adjudged for
the sum of £20,000 ($100,000). While this was, up to that date, a
record price in an auction room, it was by no means an exceptional
figure for private sales; indeed, at about the time this necklace
was sold, a London dealer disposed of another for £34,000
($170,000).

A necklace, the property of the late Lady Matheson of the Lews, was
sold at Christie’s, March 5, 1902. Well-matched and graduated round
pearls, to the number of 233, were disposed in four rows, and strung
with seed-pearls between. This necklace, which had been presented to
Lady Matheson at the time of her marriage in 1843 by Sir Jamsetjee
Jejeebhoy, Bart., brought the sum of £6800 ($34,000).

A pearl necklace, containing fifty-three fine and graduated pearls,
was sold in London, June 9, 1902, for the sum of £2250 ($11,250).
Another necklace of sixty-eight fine round pearls, one of which
formed the clasp, brought £1580 ($7900). A beautiful pearl and
brilliant pendant of open scroll design, with a large, round white
pearl in the center, and a large, pear-shaped black pearl as drop,
realized £800 ($4000), and a pearl collar of ten rows of round
pearls brought £820 ($4100). A noteworthy offering at this sale was
a rope of 135 pearls, an heirloom sold under the will of Lady
Marianna Augusta Hamilton. These pearls had been given to Lady
Augusta Anne Cockburn in 1769 on the occasion of her marriage to Sir
James Cockburn, Bart., by her godmother, Augusta, Duchess of
Brunswick, sister to George III. The rope was sold for £900 ($4500).

The pearls of Lady Dudley were sold at Christie’s on July 4, 1902.
Among them was a magnificent necklace of forty-seven slightly
graduated round pearls, of large size and unusually brilliant
orient; their gross weight was 1090 grains. This necklace brought
the sum of £22,200 ($111,000). A single pear-shaped pearl of the
finest orient mounted with a diamond cap, as a pendant, and weighing
209 grains, was sold for £13,500 ($67,500). A rope of 222 graduated
round pearls of the highest quality, weighing 2320 grains was
purchased for £16,700 ($83,500), and a pearl and brilliant tiara
brought £10,300 ($51,500). The entire casket of thirty-one lots
realized £89,526 ($447,630).

At the sale of the jewels of Mlle. Wanda de Boncza, at the Hôtel
Drouot, Paris, December 6, 1902, a fine necklace was disposed of for
the sum of 150,000 francs ($30,000), and a rope of 100 small pearls
realized 38,100 francs ($7620); the proceeds of the entire sale of
these jewels were 1,249,578 francs ($249,915).

Among the Aqualia jewels, sold in London in 1903, was a pearl
necklace that brought £4480 ($22,400).

The jewels of the late Marquis of Anglesey, an enthusiastic jewel
and art collector, were disposed of at Christie’s on May 4 and 5,
1904. At the time of his death, the marquis was supposed to be a
bankrupt, but the value of the gems which he had purchased had
increased so rapidly that the sale realized the sum of £22,988 10s.
($114,942), more than enough to cover all the obligations of the
estate. Of this amount a magnificent drop pearl, mounted as a
scarf-pin, brought £4000 ($20,000); another drop pearl of the finest
orient, weighing 105½ grains, but slightly cracked, was sold for
£3700 ($18,500). Four other drop-shaped pearls, mounted as
scarf-pins, were sold for £5220 ($26,100), one of them bringing
£1720 ($8600). A single bouton pearl, used as a coat fastener,
realized £980 ($4900), and a pearl trefoil was purchased for £580
($2900). One fine large bouton pearl, set as a stud, was disposed of
for £3000 ($15,000), and another somewhat smaller bouton, also set
as a stud, brought £1600 ($8000).

A splendid necklace comprising forty-nine well-matched and graduated
pearls of fine quality, weighing 563½ grains, was sold in London on
June 29, 1905, for the sum of £4700 ($23,500). At the same sale a
necklace of thirty-two graduated pearls, weighing about 890 grains,
brought £2600 ($13,000).

On July 20, 1905, a pearl necklace comprising forty-five graduated
pearls of fine orient, with a cabochon ruby clasp, the gross weight
being 832 grains, was sold in London for £3150 ($15,750).

A fine pearl and brilliant pendant was disposed of at the sale in
London, February 21, 1906, of the stock of Mr. E. M. Marcoso. This
pendant was composed of one large white brilliant, weighing 18–1⁄32
carats, and a drop-shaped pearl weighing 75¾ grains. The ornament
brought the sum of £2050 ($10,250).

A pearl necklace composed of 285 well-matched and graduated pearls
disposed in five rows was sold in London on June 13, 1906, for the
sum of £10,000 ($50,000). At the same sale a three-row necklace,
with 213 graduated and matched pearls of fine orient, brought £3200
($16,000), and a rope of 237 fine pearls realized £2800 ($14,000).

Among the jewels disposed of at a sale in London on July 11, 1906,
may be mentioned a five-row pearl necklace of 445 graduated oriental
pearls which was sold for £2500 ($12,500). Three other necklaces
were offered at the same sale; one of fifty-five matched and
graduated pearls of fine quality bringing £3400 ($17,000); one of
fifty-seven pearls, £2700 ($13,500), and the other of 219
well-matched and graduated pearls realizing £2350 ($11,750). Still
another necklace of 417 matched and graduated pearls arranged in
five rows was sold for £4800 ($24,000). A splendid pearl drop, of
the finest orient, brought £1650 ($8250), and a pearl rope of 191
oriental pearls, arranged so as to form three single-row necklaces,
realized the sum of £3700 ($18,500), three fine black pearls,
mounted as studs, were sold for £1000 ($5000). The most important
necklace was reserved for the end of the sale; this was composed of
forty-seven large oriental pearls, and was purchased for the sum of
£10,000 ($50,000).

At the sale of the Massey-Mainwaring collection at Christie’s on
March 18, 1907, a five-row pearl necklace consisting of 471
graduated pearls, with a bouton pearl in the center, was sold for
£4600 ($23,000).

Another collection, sold at Christie’s, April 15, 1907, was the
property of the late Mrs. Lewis-Hill, and the proceeds of the first
day’s sale reached the heretofore unapproached total of £94,805
($474,025), thus exceeding by $26,395 the amount obtained in one day
by the sale of Lady Dudley’s jewels. Among the valuable pearls in
this collection, we may mention a pair of large bouton pearl
earrings, with small diamond tops, which brought £1180 ($5900). The
enthusiasm and interest of the assembly were aroused by a necklace
of forty-five large, graduated pearls of fine orient, with a bouton
pearl and brilliant cluster snap; after spirited bidding this was
bought for £6100 ($30,500). The greatest event of the day, however,
was the appearance of a splendid rope of 229 pearls of very good
form, well-matched and graduated. The opening bid was £10,000
($50,000) and after a warm contest the pearls were finally acquired
for the sum of £16,700 ($83,500). A necklace consisting of fifteen
graduated drops, each formed of one bouton pearl, one brilliant, and
one pear-shaped pearl drop, depending from a narrow band of small
diamonds, drew forth a bid of £5000 ($25,000) and was finally
awarded for the sum of £12,200 ($61,000). A pearl rope of 183
graduated and well-matched pearls realized £7200 ($36,000), and a
fine pair of pearls set as earrings brought £3400 ($17,000). The
crowded auction room, the keen competition among the bidders, and
the amount obtained for these jewels are good indications of the
firmness of the market at the present time.

At the sale of the jewels of Lady Henry Gordon-Lennox, held at
Christie’s on May 12, 1907, a splendid necklace was offered. It
comprised 287 graduated pearls of the finest orient, disposed in
five rows, with a large circular pearl. This magnificent ornament
was sold for £25,500 ($127,500).

On July 11, 1907, a splendid necklace of forty-nine graduated
pearls, of fine luster and carefully matched, was sold at auction by
Debenham and Storr of London, for the sum of £5600 ($28,000). At the
same sale a single-row necklace of forty-five pearls brought £5300
($26,500), and a rope of oriental pearls realized £4500 ($22,500).

At the auction sale of the collection of the late Bishop Bubics of
Hungary, among other objects, a very handsome saber pouch was
offered, of the style worn by the Hungarian hussars. It was of green
silk and richly embroidered with hundreds of pearls of varying
sizes. After a spirited competition this pouch was sold to Prince
Esterhazy for 13,500 crowns ($2700). Some time after the sale a
letter from the late bishop was found, containing the statement that
he had borrowed the ornament from the jewel-room of the Princess
Esterhazy. Naturally, Prince Esterhazy was not called upon to pay
the amount of his bid. It is a gratification to know that at least
one of the remarkable Magyar jeweled ornaments has escaped the
cupidity of enterprising jewelers who have broken up so many of
these ornaments for the gems which they contained.

A BRIEF SUMMARY OF THE PRINCIPAL GREAT PEARLS OF HISTORY

Weight

Charles the Bold’s Pearls. Three, each about 60 grains

Gomara Pearl, 31 carats 124 grains

Oviedo Pearl, 26 carats

(probably the Morales or Pizarro Pearl) 104 grains

La Peregrina 134 grains

Charles II’s Pearl, (nearly equal to La Peregrina)

Morales and Pizarro Pearl, 26 carats 104 grains

Rudolph II’s Pearl, 30 carats 120 grains

Tavernier’s Pearls:

Shah Sofi’s Pearl (estimated) 500 grains

Imam of Muscat’s Pearl, 12–1⁄16 carats 48¼ grains

Shaista Khan Pearl, 55 carats 220 grains

Great Mogul’s Pearls:

Peacock Throne Pearl 200 grains

Two pear-shaped, one about 70 ratis 186.2 grains

Olive-shaped pearl (estimated) 125 grains

One button-shaped, 55–60 ratis 146.3–159.6 grains

One round pearl, 56 ratis (gift of the Shah
Abbas II) 148.9 grains

Round pearl (estimated)[526] 110 grains

Three yellowish pearls, 25–28 ratis 66.5–74.5 grains

One perfectly round pearl, 35½ ratis 94½ grains

Two perfectly shaped and equal, each 25¼ ratis 67.1 grains

La Reine des Perles 109¼ grains

Pearls of Maria Theresa’s Necklace (three) 92–100 grains

La Régente (now owned by Princess Yousoupoff) 337 grains

La Pellegrina 111½ grains

The Ynaffit, pear-shaped 143⅛ grains

Hope Pearl, drop-shaped baroque 1800 grains

Also in the Hope Collection:

Conical pearl 151 grains

Bouton pearl 124 grains

Oval pearl 94 grains

Roughly spherical pearl 89 grains

Acorn-shaped pearl 85 grains

Oval conch pearl 82¼ grains

Button-shaped conch pearl 77½ grains

Drop-shaped pearl 76½ grains

Pear-shaped Scotch pearl 34¾ grains

Van Buren Pearls:

Two, each about 30 grains

Also necklace 148 pearls 700 grains

Tiffany Queen Pearl, American 93 grains

Black bouton earring-pearl 88 grains

White bouton earring-pearl 93 grains

Bapst Pearls, two 113¼ and 113¾ grains

Round pearl of Paris Exposition of 1889 70 grains

Mme. Nordica’s Pearl (abalone) 175 grains

Great Bahama Conch Pearl 138¼ grains

The Queen Conch Pearl 90 grains

W. H. Moore’s Pearl (Arkansas pearl, brown) 122½ grains

Shark’s Bay Pearl, golden yellow 30½ grains

Rudolph II Crown Pearl, 26 carats 104 grains

Carlotta’s Pearl, pear-shaped 84 grains

Marquis of Anglesey’s Pearl, drop-shaped 105½ grains

Black pear-shaped pearl (Lower California) 49 grains

 


XVII

THE ABORIGINAL USE OF PEARLS, AND THEIR DISCOVERY IN MOUNDS AND GRAVES

 


XVII
THE ABORIGINAL USE OF PEARLS, AND THEIR DISCOVERY IN MOUNDS AND GRAVES


The use of pearls by the aborigines of the territory now comprised in
the United States is proven by their appearance in the mounds and
certain graves of pre-Columbian date. This is of great interest in view
of the unique system of burial and the great variety of objects buried
with the pearls. It is evident from the quantities discovered in some of
the mounds that a very great number of pearls, many of large size, must
have been owned by these aborigines, and they were evidently quite
expert in the art of drilling them. Pearls must have been freely used
for ornamental purposes, and it is clear that many rivers in this region
must have produced them in great numbers, when we consider that in all
probability the mussels were taken only as they were required for food
or for bait in fishing, and had probably reached their full growth.

It is not unlikely that pearls were used on this continent for a long
period, and they may have been in use centuries before any employment
was made of them in Europe. In the age of the mound-builders there were
as many pearls in the possession of a single tribe of Indians as existed
in any European court. We have no means of ascertaining the precise date
of any of these burials, and there are no historical records relating to
this region, such as were kept in Mexico as well as in Europe and Asia.
No trace has been found of the employment of pearls, either for
decoration or ornament, by the aborigines of Europe or Asia; either they
did not use them or else the pearls have entirely passed away in the
course of twenty or more centuries. We do know, however, that neither
pearls nor Unio shells were used by any of the lake-dwellers of
Switzerland or the adjacent countries.

Many eminent archæologists have investigated the finding and history of
the pearls of the mound-builders of Ohio and Alabama, especially Squier
and Davis, F. W. Putnam, Warren K. Moorehead, C. C. Jones, W. C. Mills,
and Clarence B. Moore. The discoveries made up to 1890 were fully
treated by one of the writers in several pamphlets (one of them, “Gems
and Precious Stones of North America”).

It is not unlikely that the Indians of the Atlantic coast may have known
of pearls from the common clam as well as from the edible oyster. The
former may have often contained pearls weighing from fifty to one
hundred grains each, as at that period the mollusks were permitted to
attain their full growth, and perhaps were not eaten except when they
were as small as little-neck clams; the larger ones were sought for the
purple spot which held the muscle, and was used for wampum. We have no
record of the finding of pearls in any graves north of Virginia, as the
many graves opened in the past century have failed to reveal them, nor
has the use of pearls been mentioned by any of the early writers. They
may have been worn, but if so they have passed away or may have been
mistaken for ashes if they had decrepitated.

The first English settlers found the Indians of the tidewater region of
what now constitutes the Middle States using pearls quite freely and
esteeming them among their favorite treasures and ornaments. Captain
John Smith, and all the early chroniclers of the Virginia colony, have
given many accounts of this aboriginal use of pearls.

In view of the general interest awakened by the tercentenary of the
founding of Jamestown, and the exposition in commemoration thereof, the
“American Anthropologist” devoted its first number for 1907 principally
to topics relating to the Virginia Indians.[527] Among these articles is
one of much interest by Mr. Charles C. Willoughby, of the Peabody Museum
at Cambridge, Massachusetts, dealing with the tribes occupying tidewater
Virginia at the time of the first colonization, their habits and
customs, their distribution, and their subsequent history of diminution
and almost of extinction. These were a branch of the Algonquian stock,
and extended as far south as the Neuse River in North Carolina. To the
south and west they were hemmed in by tribes of Iroquoian and Siouan
race, and on the north they were separated from other hostile Indians by
the Potomac River and Chesapeake Bay. The powerful confederacy under
Powhatan comprised some thirty tribes or “provinces,” covering most of
the tidewater region of Virginia proper. To the greater chiefs, John
Smith states that tribute was paid, consisting of “skinnes, beads,
copper, pearle, deere, turkies, wild beasts and corne.”[528] Many other
references in this article confirm and illustrate this general
statement, especially regarding pearls, both as to their use by the
living and their deposit with the remains of the dead.

In the account given of the native clothing, the outer mantles are
described, made usually of deerskin with the hair removed, and bordered
with a fringe. These were often “couloured with some pretty work, …
beasts, fowle, tortayses, or such like imagery,”[529] or adorned with
shells, white beads, copper ornaments, pearls, or the teeth of
animals.[530] Strachey describes a wonderful cloak made of feather-work,
belonging to an Indian princess, the wife of a deposed chief, Pipisco;
with it she wore “pendants of great but imperfect couloured and worse
drilled pearles, which she put into her eares,” besides a long necklace
made of copper links.[531]

With regard to such ornaments, Mr. Willoughby says (p. 71) that “the
ears of both sexes were pierced with great holes, the women commonly
having three in each ear, in which were hung strings of bones, shell,
and copper beads, copper pendants, and other ornaments. Captain Amidas
met the wife of a chief who wore in her ears strings of pearl beads as
large as ‘great pease’ which hung down to her middle.[532] The husband
of this woman wore five or six copper pendants in each ear. It was a
common custom for the men to wear a claw of a hawk, eagle, turkey, or
bear, or even a live snake as an ear ornament.”

“Bracelets and neck ornaments of various kinds of beads were common.
Beads of copper seem to have been most highly valued in the early
colonial period. These were made of ‘shreeds of copper, beaten thinne
and bright, and wound up hollowe,’ and were sometimes strung alternately
with pearls which were occasionally stained to render them more
attractive.[533] Beads of polished bone or shell were strung into
necklaces either alone or with perforated pearls or copper beads. Some
of these chains were long enough to pass several times around the neck.
Necklaces of such construction as to be easily identified were worn by
messengers as a proof of good faith. Powhatan gave Sir Thomas Dale a
pearl necklace, and requested that any messenger sent by Dale to him
should wear it as a guaranty that the message was authentic.”[534]

“Pearls of various shapes and sizes were comparatively common, but
symmetrical pearls of uniform size were more rare. Strachey writes of
having seen ‘manie chaynes and braceletts (of pearls) worne by the
people, and wee have found plentie of them in the sepulchers of their
kings, though discoloured by burning the oysters in the fier, and
deformed by grosse boring.’ One of Hariot’s companions obtained from the
Indians about five thousand pearls, from which a sufficient number of
good quality and of uniform size were obtained to make a ‘fayre chaine,
which for their likenesse and uniformitie in roundnesse, orientness and
pidenesse of many excellent colours, with equalitie in greatnesse, were
verie fayre and rare.’[535]

“Those who have examined the thousands of pearls from the Ohio mounds,
to be mentioned later, can readily understand these conditions. The
pearl beads from the mounds vary in diameter from about an eighth of an
inch to nearly an inch, the great majority being small and irregular,
although there are many among them of good form and value. It is
probable that most of the Virginia pearls were obtained from the
fresh-water mussel (Unio)”; not unlikely from the common marine clam
(_Venus mercenaria_), or the common oyster (_Ostrea virginica_).

As regards the burial of pearls with the dead and their use in religious
rites, curious and quite full accounts are given by Strachey, Smith,
Hariot, and Beverley.[536] There was a “temple,” also occupied as a
residence by one or more priests, in the territory of every chief. This
building was usually some eighteen or twenty feet wide, and varied in
length from thirty to one hundred feet, with an entrance at the eastern
end, and the western portion partitioned off with mats to form a sort of
sanctuary or “chancel.” Within this were kept the dried bodies of
deceased chiefs, and an image of the god, called Okee, made in the shape
of a man, “all black, dressed with chaynes of perle.” Full descriptions
of these idols and their manufacture are given by Hariot and Beverley,
also of the process of preserving the remains of the chiefs.[537] After
the body had been disemboweled, the skin was laid back and the flesh was
cut away from the bones. When this operation was completed, the
skeleton, held together by its ligaments, was again inclosed in the
skin, and stuffed with white sand, or with “pearle, copper, beads, and
such trash sowed in a skynne.”[538] It was then dressed in fine skins
and adorned with all sorts of valuables, including strings of pearls and
beads. The same kinds of treasures were also deposited in a basket at
the feet of the mummy.

Captain Smith describes the temple of Powhatan, at Uttamussack, which
was in charge of seven priests, and was held in great awe by “the
salvages.” At a place called Orapaks, was also his treasure-house, fifty
or sixty yards long, frequented only by priests, where he kept a great
amount of skins, beads, pearls, and copper, stored up against the time
of his death and burial. A vivid account is given of the four grotesque
images that stood guard at the corners of this building, all made “evill
favouredly according to their best workmanship.”[539]

The use of pearls as ornaments, and their deposit with the remains of
chiefs and persons of distinction, have already been described as
familiar among the Indian tribes of tidewater Virginia, in the notes
above cited from early explorers and colonists. It is a curious
circumstance, however, that this habit does not appear to have extended
in that part of the country much beyond the dominions of Powhatan, as no
pearls have been noted in the Indian graves in Maryland. This statement,
in reply to a letter of special inquiry, is made by Dr. P. R. Uhler, of
the Peabody Institute of Baltimore, who has been making very careful
studies of all aboriginal remains in that region, for the Maryland
Academy of Sciences.

It would seem from this and other evidence, that the use and
appreciation of pearls must have been in some way a tribal matter,
familiar to some and not to others, of the Indian peoples. In the
Mississippi Valley, the ancient population known as the mound-builders,
by some regarded as a distinct and earlier race, and by others as of
true Indian stock, although much more advanced in arts and culture, have
left in their mounds most remarkable quantities of pearls. But here
again, the same feature appears, that these treasures are not found
wherever there are mounds, but only in certain regions. Of these, by far
the most celebrated is that of the Scioto and Miami valleys, in Ohio.
Outside of these, no large amounts have been found, and only at a few
localities are they met with at all.

The valleys of the Miami and Scioto rivers and their tributaries contain
many remarkable mounds and “earthworks,” which have attracted much
attention, and have been more or less explored at different times, with
increasing care and thoroughness as archæological science has advanced.
It may be well to give a brief, general account of these investigations
and some leading features of the mounds as a whole, before going into
particulars as to the occurrence of pearls.

The first important and scientific study of these remarkable structures
was that conducted in the early forties by Dr. Edwin H. Davis and Mr. E.
George Squier, and published in their celebrated and standard work
entitled “Ancient Monuments of the Mississippi Valley,” issued by the
Smithsonian Institution in 1848. This book and the “Correspondence” in
regard to the mounds by the same writers, published in 1847, were the
first works issued by the Smithsonian Institution.

According to Squier and Davis,[540] two quarts of pearls were originally
deposited in one of these mounds. The writers consider that the pearls
were probably derived from the fisheries in the southern waters, and
they regard their presence in the Ohio mounds as a proof of “an
extensive communication with southern and tropical regions and a
migration from that direction.”

A number of pearls or pearl beads from the Ohio mounds and which
formerly belonged to the Squier and Davis collection, are now in the
Blackmore Museum at Salisbury, England. According to a communication
from Dr. H. P. Blackmore, director of the museum, these pearls, which
originally formed five necklaces, have been much injured by the action
of fire at the time the bodies of those interred in the mounds were
burned. Mr. Blackmore considers that the greater part of the pearl beads
are of mother-of-pearl cut from some large shell, made into a round
shape and perforated, but, after very careful examination, he is of the
opinion that about ten may be classed as natural pearls. Their present
color is a dull, leaden gray, rather lighter than the “black pearl” of
commerce. The size of these pearls or beads varies from four millimeters
to twenty millimeters in diameter. One of the necklaces consists of
thirty-three beads well graduated, but of a dead white color from the
action of the earth.

A quarter of a century later, when the Centennial Exposition was in
preparation, the Smithsonian Institution undertook the formation of a
public exhibit illustrating American archæology, and engaged Prof. F. W.
Putnam, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, to open and examine some of the
most remarkable of the mounds described by Squier and Davis. These
explorations were continued for some years, partly for the government
and partly for the Peabody Museum of Archæology at Cambridge, and their
results were exhibited at the Columbian Exposition in 1893. The mounds
explored were chiefly in the valley of the Little Miami, and
particularly those known as the Turner group.

A very important series of explorations was also carried on by Mr.
Warren K. Moorehead, covering the years from 1887 to 1893, largely in
preparation for the Columbian Exposition. These investigations were
mainly in the Scioto valley, in the counties of Ross, Franklin, and
Pickaway, Ohio. Among the most important results then obtained were
those from the mounds of the “Porter” and “Hopewell” groups, in Ross
County.

Since that time, much valuable work has been done by Mr. Moorehead and
others, and particularly under the auspices of the Ohio State
Archæological and Historical Society. The latest and most complete
investigation was made for this society in 1903, by its curator, Prof.
William C. Mills, in the Harness mound, seven miles north of
Chillicothe, Ohio, near the Scioto River, in Ross County. This locality
had been previously explored in part, by Professor Putnam in 1885, and
Mr. Moorehead in 1896; it was now systematically examined down to the
original surface at every point.

Squier and Davis divided these ancient monuments into four classes: (1)
Altar mounds, which contain what appear to be altars, and are also
called hearths, of stone or hardened clay; (2) Burial mounds, containing
human bones; (3) Temple mounds, with neither altars nor bones, but
seeming to have had some special religious significance; and (4)
Anomalous mounds, including “mounds of observation” and others of mixed
or uncertain character. The burials are found to be of two kinds, simple
interment and cremation; and these are sometimes met with in the same
mound.

This classification has been generally followed in describing these
ancient structures, although the whole subject is obscure and difficult,
from our ignorance of the purposes and conditions of their formation. In
many of the mounds of the first two classes especially, not only have
pearls been found, but quantities of interesting and remarkable objects,
many of which have been brought from distant points, and prove clearly
the existence of an extensive intertribal commerce at a remote period.
Galena from Illinois and Wisconsin, mica from North Carolina, obsidian
from beyond the Rocky Mountains, and sea-shells from the Gulf coast, are
among these objects, and particularly native copper from Lake Superior,
from which many articles were fashioned by hammering. Pearls are
extremely abundant, and were at first supposed to have been brought from
the coast, and may have been the pearls of the common clam and the
common oyster, the pearls being found in opening the mollusks for food;
but the recent development of pearl hunting in the western rivers, where
the fresh-water mussels (Unios) are so abundant and produce such
beautiful pearls, shows that these treasures were undoubtedly gathered,
partly, if not wholly, in the region where the mounds exist. The
enormous numbers found are, indeed, no source of surprise, as such
quantities of pearls have been obtained, for over twenty years past,
from the same regions. The mollusks are still abundant in all the
streams of the Mississippi Valley, except where they have been reduced
or exterminated by the reckless methods of pearl hunting employed where
the “pearl fever” has prevailed.

It is quite possible that the fresh-water Unios were not sought for
their pearls alone, but were also used as food, and perhaps as bait for
fishing. They were evidently gathered in great quantities, as is shown
by the old heaps of shells found along the banks of streams at many
points; and doubtless there are multitudes of such heaps that have never
been observed. They are known as far north as Idaho, as communicated by
Dr. Robert N. Bell, State mineralogist, and they extend still farther
north, as noted by Dr. Harlan I. Smith, in his “Preliminary Notes on the
Archæology of the Yakima Valley.”[541] He says: “Small heaps of
fresh-water clam-shells were examined, but these being only about five
feet in diameter and as many inches in depth, are hardly to be compared
to the immense shell-heaps of the coast.”

These Unio shell-heaps are frequent in the South, and some of the
Spanish chroniclers of De Soto’s expedition in 1540–1541, describe the
gathering and cooking of the mussels, and the finding of occasional
pearls therein. The same writers also give glowing accounts of the
pearls possessed by the natives. Some of these accounts may be
exaggerated, but they cannot be wholly so. It would seem that some of
the pearls may have come from marine shells, and others from those of
the rivers and streams; but there are few pearl-producing shells on our
own coasts, and it is not very likely that there was any trade or
intercourse with the West Indian Islands, where marine pearls occur
freely.

Albert H. Pickett, in his “History of Alabama,” refers to the accounts
of De Soto’s historian, Garcilasso de la Vega, and holds that the pearls
which he noted were evidently from the Unios of Alabama. “Heaps of
mussel shells,” he says, “are now to be seen on our river banks wherever
Indians used to live. They were much used by the ancient Indians for
some purpose, and old warriors have informed me that their ancestors
once used the shells to temper the clay with which they made their
vessels. But as thousands of the shells lie banked up, some deep in the
ground, we may also suppose that the Indians in De Soto’s time,
everywhere in Alabama, obtained pearls from them. There can be no doubt
about the quantity of pearls found in this State and Georgia in 1540,
but they were of a coarser and more valueless kind than the Spaniards
supposed. The Indians used to perforate them and string them around
their necks and arms like beads.”[542]

The use of fragments of these shells in tempering the clay for pottery,
alluded to in the preceding paragraph, is well known. Prof. Daniel S.
Martin describes an old village site in South Carolina, near the
Congaree River, a few miles south of the city of Columbia, where the
ground had been plowed, and along the furrows the soil was gleaming with
brilliant pearly fragments of Unio shells, intermingled with bits of
pottery.

Mr. Clarence B. Moore discovered pearls pierced for stringing in several
of the mounds at Moundville, Alabama. He also found a sheet-copper
pendant, elongated oval in outline, with an excised repoussé decoration,
embracing a swastika within a circle, and a triangle. This pendant,
which lay near the skull of burial No. 132, bears a perforated pearl
nearly seven millimeters in diameter and weighing about nine grains; it
is fastened to the pendant by a piece of vegetable fiber that passes
through the pearl. With another burial (No. 162), the skeleton of an
adult, was an elliptical gorget of sheet-copper decorated with a
pearl.[543] In a personal communication Mr. Moore states that all the
pearls found by him in the mounds were very much disintegrated by the
lapse of time; he also writes that he has never found any shells
immediately with the pearls, although masses of Unio shells were often
met with in the mounds. He believes the shell-fish had been used for
food.

Unio shell-heaps exist likewise on the shores of the inland lakes of
Florida, and in middle Georgia and Alabama; and several of them on the
banks of the Savannah River, above Augusta, are fully described by
Colonel Charles C. Jones.[544] He says: “In these relic-beds no two
parts of the same shell are, as a general rule, found in juxtaposition.
The hinge is broken, and the valves of the shell, after having been
artificially torn asunder, seem to have been carelessly cast aside and
allowed to accumulate.”

Thus, in addition to the historical evidence, physical proof is abundant
of the pearl fisheries of the aboriginal tribes of the South. In order
to ascertain the precise varieties of shells from which the southern
Indians obtained their pearls, Colonel Jones invited an expression of
opinion from a number of scientists whose studies rendered them familiar
with the conchology of the United States. Their responses throw
considerable light upon this inquiry, though with some curious
variation.

Prof. William S. Jones, of the University of Georgia, says that he has
seen small pearls in many of the Unios found in that State.

Prof. Jeffries Wyman, on the other hand, after a careful and extensive
series of excavations in the shell-heaps of Florida, failed to find a
single pearl. “It is hardly probable,” he remarks, “that the Spaniards
could have been mistaken as to the fact of the ornaments of the Indians
being pearls, but in view of their frequent exaggerations, I am almost
compelled to the belief that there was some mistake; and possibly they
may not have distinguished between the pearls and the shell beads, some
of which would correspond with the size and shape of the pearls
mentioned by the Spaniards.”

Prof. Joseph Jones, whose investigations throw much valuable light upon
the contents of the ancient tumuli of Tennessee, says: “I do not
remember finding a genuine pearl in the many mounds which I have opened
in the valleys of the Tennessee, the Cumberland, the Harpeth, and
elsewhere. Many of the pearls described by the Spaniards were probably
little else than polished beads cut out of large sea-shells and from the
thicker portions of fresh-water mussels, and prepared so as to resemble
pearls. I have examined thousands of these, and they all present a
laminated structure, as if carved out of thick shells and sea conchs.”
This point will be referred to again.

Dr. Charles Rau[545] writes: “I learned from Dr. Samuel G. Bristow, who
was a surgeon in the Army of the Cumberland during the Civil War, that
mussels of the Tennessee River were occasionally eaten ‘as a change’ by
the soldiers of that corps, and pronounced no bad article of diet.
Shells of the Unio are sometimes found in Indian graves, where they had
been deposited with the dead, to serve as food during the journey to the
land of spirits.”

Dr. Brinton saw on the Tennessee River and its tributaries numerous
shell-heaps consisting almost exclusively of the _Unio virginianus_
(Lamarck). In every instance he found shell-heaps close to the
water-courses, on the rich alluvial bottom-land. He says: “The mollusks
had evidently been opened by placing them on a fire. The Tennessee
mussel is margaritiferous, and there is no doubt but that it was from
this species that the early tribes obtained the hoards of pearls which
the historian of De Soto’s exploration estimated by bushels, and which
were so much prized as ornaments.”[546]

A source has recently been pointed out whence small pearls, and perhaps
some fine specimens, could have been obtained by the Indians of Florida,
and in considerable quantities. In the Unios of some of the fresh-water
lakes of that State, there were found not less than 3000 pearls, most of
them small, but many large enough to be perforated and worn as beads.
From one Unio there were taken eighty-four seed-pearls; from another,
fifty; from a third, twenty, and from several, ten or twelve each. The
examinations were chiefly confined to Lake Griffin and its vicinity. It
is said that upon one of the isles in Lake Okeechobee are the remains of
an old pearl fishery, and it is proposed to open the shells of this
lake, which are large, in hopes of finding pearls of superior size and
quality.

The use of the pearl as an ornament by the southern Indians, and the
quantities of shells opened by them in various localities, make it seem
strange that it is not more frequently met with in the relic-beds and
sepulchral tumuli of that region; but, after exploring many shell- and
earth-mounds, Colonel Charles C. Jones failed, except in a few
instances, to find pearls.[547] A few were obtained in an extensive
relic-bed on the Savannah River, above Augusta, the largest being four
tenths of an inch in diameter, but all of them blackened by fire. Many
of the smaller mounds on the coast of Georgia do not contain pearls,
because at the period of their construction the custom of burning the
dead appears to have prevailed very generally; hence, it may be that the
pearls were either immediately consumed or so seriously injured as to
crumble out of sight.

This absence of pearls tends somewhat to confirm the opinion that beads
made from the thicker portions of shells that were carved, perforated,
and brilliant with nacre, were regarded by the imaginative Spaniards as
pearls. More minute investigation, however, will doubtless reveal the
existence of pearls in localities where the pearl-bearing shells were
collected. Perforated pearls have been found in an ancient
burying-ground located near the bank of the Ogeechee River, in Bryan
County, Georgia; and many years ago, after a heavy freshet on the Oconee
River, which laid bare many Indian graves in the neighborhood of the
large mounds on Poullain’s plantation, fully a hundred pearls of
considerable size were gathered.

It seems quite clear that many of the pearls reported by the early
Spanish voyagers were really such, although it is well known also that
shell beads have been found in mounds in connection with pearls; but the
numbers found in Ohio, by Professor Putnam, Mr. Moorehead, and others,
leave no room for doubt in this matter. That the Indians of the South
also had these pearls, both drilled and undrilled, is beyond question.

The same fact comes to view, however, in these various accounts, that
has been alluded to already, _viz._, that the use of pearls among the
aborigines appears to have been local, and probably tribal. All the
fresh waters of North America contain Unios, especially in the
Mississippi basin and in the South, and all the Unios are more or less
pearl-bearing; but it is only at certain points that pearls are found
deposited in ancient graves, sometimes, however, in extraordinary
quantities.

Father Louis Hennepin relates that the Indians along the Mississippi
wore bracelets and earrings of fine pearls, which they spoilt, having
nothing to bore them with but fire. He adds: “They gave us to understand
that they received them in exchange for their calumets from nations
inhabiting the coast of the great lake to the southward, which I take to
be the Gulph of Florida.”[548]

The statement here made, that the Indians perforated their pearls only
“with fire,” evidently refers to the use of a heated copper wire, or
point, as mentioned by Pickett and others of the early explorers. This
point is of importance, as apparently indicating a marked difference
between the Indians met with by the first European visitors, and the
mound-building people of an earlier time, among whom the perforation was
made with small stone drills. On this point, a recent letter from Prof.
Wm. C. Mills, who has conducted the very full exploration of the Harness
mound in Ohio, is of interest. He describes the small and
carefully-wrought flint drills, which he found, and believes to have
been made and used for this purpose. In size and form they answer all
requirements; they are delicate little implements, somewhat T-shaped or
gimlet-shaped, an inch and a quarter long; the narrow boring part is
about an inch in length and tapers from one eighth of an inch to quite a
fine point; the wider upper end is abruptly expanded into the transverse
handle, which is about a quarter of an inch thick, _i.e._, lengthwise of
the instrument, and half an inch in span, _i.e._, across, so as to give
a good hold for the fingers to rotate the drill, just as in an ordinary
gimlet.

Passing now to the actual discoveries of pearls in the mounds of the
Mississippi Valley, these will be reviewed in the order of the
successive explorations in which they were made known. As already
stated, the only region where any large amounts have been encountered,
is that of the Scioto and Miami valleys in Ohio. Even here, pearls are
found only at certain points, and though the numbers are great, the
graves which contain them are few. They were apparently buried only with
the remains of individuals of especial distinction, probably either
chiefs or eminent medicine men. The accounts of recent explorations in
these mounds bring to mind very forcibly the statement before cited from
Captain John Smith, as to Powhatan’s treasure-house, where all his most
valued articles, including pearls, were collected and kept, in
preparation for his death and burial. Pearls appear also to have been
used only by the more cultured tribes, and were kept in the larger and
more prosperous communities exclusively. They are confined to the great
“mound groups,” and are not found in isolated mounds. The tumuli of
northern Ohio, the hill mounds, and the village sites along the smaller
streams, have yielded practically none.

According to the manner of burial, the pearls vary greatly in their
present condition. Where they have been placed with cremated bodies,
they are, of course, much damaged, being blackened and largely
decomposed. Otherwise, although injured in color and luster, the mere
fact of burial in the ground has not entirely ruined them. They are
generally perforated, so as to be strung or attached to garments, and
traces of both these methods of use are sometimes clearly shown.

The term “pearl beads,” often employed by writers, is uncertain in
meaning; as it may refer either to actual pearls, bored so as to be
strung, or to imitations thereof made from pearly shell. With regard to
this point, although such quantities have been obtained, there seems to
have been very little close examination as to their structure, which
would at once indicate the facts, according as the minute layers of the
pearly material are concentric or not. The only distinct testimony is
that we have cited above from Prof. Joseph Jones,[549] who states that
he has examined large numbers, and found them to be apparently cut from
shells. He makes the suggestion that they may have been carved from the
thicker portions of the fresh-water Unios. This is not only probable,
but would go far to solve the mystery of the enormous numbers found, as
compared with anything known of the yield of genuine pearls by these
mollusks, even with all the pearl hunting of recent years. An
interesting fact bearing directly on this question is the discovery in
the Taylor mound, at Oregonia, Warren County, Ohio, of several Unio
shells in which had been made a circular hole, two thirds of an inch in
diameter, either for some ornamental use of the shell or to extract
pieces to be shaped into beads. These may have been made in either of
two ways. Firstly, by breaking pieces of the shell from one of the
valves, as a lapidary “roughs out” a piece of gem material before he
begins to grind it into shape; or, secondly, by cutting out a circular
disk of shell by means of a hollow copper drill or a hollow reed, just
as they perforated hard pieces of quartz or granite for pipes, or as
they trephined circular disks from the skulls. Decorated disks of Unio
shell were also found in the same mound. If the ancient people made
beads in this manner, there is little difficulty in accounting for the
quantities described, especially in connection with the evident
gathering of Unios on a large scale, as shown by the widely distributed
shell-heaps already described. They certainly did make beads from
various marine shells, and these are found with the pearl beads in many
of the mounds, as particularly noted by Professor Jones, cited above,
and by others.

In the recent exploration of the Harness mound, by Professor Mills, a
very curious discovery was made of imitation pearls of a kind never
before met with; these were made of clay, modeled apparently after the
larger natural pearls associated with them, and after being baked hard,
had been “covered with a flexible mica,” so as to resemble pearls.[550]
The mica was a silvery mica that may have been burned and would
pulverize into a gray powder with a pearly luster, as almost all micas
are too resilient to be attached in any other way.

Taking up now the history of pearl discovery in the mounds, the first
definite record goes back to about 1844, when perforated pearls were
found by Dr. Edwin H. Davis[551] on the hearths of five distinct groups
of mounds in Ohio, and sometimes in such abundance that they could be
gathered by the hundred. They were generally of irregular form, mostly
pear-shaped, though perfectly round ones were also found among them. The
smaller specimens measured about one fourth of an inch in diameter, but
the largest had a diameter of three quarters of an inch.

The next great discovery of these Unio pearls was in the Porter group of
mounds, in the Little Miami Valley, explored by Prof. Frederick W.
Putnam, and Dr. Charles L. Metz, who procured over 60,000 pearls, nearly
two bushels, drilled and undrilled, undoubtedly of Unio origin; all of
them, however, decayed or much altered, and of no commercial value. In
1884 these scientists examined the Marriott mound, where they found
nearly one hundred Unio shells, and among other objects of special
interest six canine teeth of bears, that were perforated by a lateral
hole near the edge at the point of greatest curvature of the root, so
that by passing a cord through this, the tooth could be fastened to any
object or worn as an ornament. Two of these teeth had a hole bored
through near the end of the root on the side opposite the lateral
perforation, and the hole countersunk in order to receive a large
spherical pearl, about three eighths of an inch in diameter. When the
teeth were found, the pearls were in place, although chalky from decay.
Upward of 250 pearl beads were found here, concerning which they say:
“The pearl beads found in the several positions mentioned are natural
pearls, probably obtained from the several species of Unios in the Ohio
rivers. In size they vary from one tenth of an inch to over half an inch
in diameter, and many are spherical. They are neatly drilled, and the
larger from opposite sides. These pearls are now chalky, and crumble on
handling, but when fresh they would have formed brilliant necklaces and
pendants.”[552]

FRESH-WATER PEARLS FROM HOPEWELL GROUP OF MOUNDS, ROSS COUNTY, OHIO

It is easy to see, even at a glance, that most of those in this great
deposit of 60,000 are true pearls. Many are very irregular in form, and
quite a number are the elongated, somewhat feather-shaped, “hinge
pearls,” that are found in the region of the hinge teeth of Unios. A
large and interesting exhibit of these is shown in the Field Museum of
Natural History, Chicago. But thousands of spherical pearls were also
obtained, from the “altars” or “hearths” of mounds belonging to the
first division of Squier and Davis’s classification, above noted. From
the Turner group, in Clermont County, in the Little Miami Valley,
Professor Putnam obtained for the Peabody Museum as much as half a
bushel of pearls of this character. As these had been exposed to fire,
nearly all were blackened, some cracked, and all greatly impaired.[553]

The next great series of explorations were those conducted by Mr. W. K.
Moorehead in the Scioto Valley, in the counties of Ross, Franklin and
Pickaway, Ohio. He opened and examined a number of mounds, and found
pearls or pearl beads in ten or twelve of them, but the larger deposits
were confined to certain limited districts, which seem to have been
occupied by tribes more advanced in culture and in traffic than the
rest. In these, the pearls and also objects of other kinds brought from
a distance, are principally found. The scattered mounds, not associated
with any village or community sites, have few of these valuable objects.

But even where they are found freely, pearls were apparently used or
possessed by only a few individuals. Mr. Moorehead investigated in all
117 burial mounds, containing about 1400 skeletons. Pearls were met with
in only seven of these mounds, and in connection with but twenty-two
skeletons. These, however, yielded a total of 2600 pearls, apparently
from Unios, the numbers found with single skeletons varying from 18 to
602, an average of 118. It thus appears that in Mr. Moorehead’s
researches, pearls were found in about one mound out of seventeen, and
in these, with about one skeleton out of eight.

From “altar mounds,” pearls have been in some cases taken in vast
numbers. Professor Putnam’s discoveries are mentioned above; and Mr.
Moorehead obtained tens of thousands from two altars or hearths in the
Hopewell group, which will be described hereafter.

When found in the burial mounds with skeletons, pearls are generally
seen to have been placed at the wrists or ankles, or about the neck, or
in the mouth. Sometimes they are found on copper plates, and
occasionally they show evidence of having been sewn or attached to a
garment. Particulars on these points will be given further on. Mr.
Moorehead has also found bears’ teeth, set with pearls, as Putnam and
Metz did in the Marriott mound, lying with or near skeletons.

In the case of the altar mounds, there seems to have been a different
procedure, not a burial, but a great funeral sacrifice in honor of some
very distinguished person, in which treasures of every kind, including
great stores of pearls, were consumed, or meant to be. Of this, Mr.
Moorehead says, in a letter to the author: “In the case of all altar
offerings, a fire had been kindled … and all these things were heaped
upon it. They were utterly ruined, save a few; … those at the top were
not so much affected as those at the bottom.”

Mr. Moorehead’s investigations already mentioned were in the years 1888
to 1891 inclusive; he next took up especially the remarkable Hopewell
groups of mounds, in 1891–1892, and explored these extensively for the
archæological exhibit at the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893, at
Chicago.[554] This was his most important and elaborate investigation,
and will be described in some detail. In 1896, he made a partial
exploration of the Harness mound near Chillicothe, which has been fully
completed more recently by Prof. William C. Mills, and will also be
described further on.

The investigations made in the Hopewell group of mounds were recorded by
Mr. Moorehead in a series of articles in the “Antiquarian.”[555] He
gives a general account of the remarkable region of ancient remains in
Ross County, Ohio. The State archæological map shows the “mound belt,”
as a strip of country some fifteen miles wide and one hundred miles
long, extending through the Scioto Valley, from about Columbus to
Portsmouth. The ancient works noted on this map, though not all that
exist there, yet number over 900 mounds, 24 village sites, 36 circles of
earth and stone, 87 other inclosures and works of similar character, and
31 sites of gravel or kame burials. Five groups of mounds in particular
exist in Ross County, all of them showing a “high culture” state. “All
of the lower Scioto Valley,” says Mr. Moorehead, “was occupied by a
mound-building tribe ranking higher in intelligence and numerically
stronger than that of any other section of the whole Ohio region.” Among
the many remarkable ancient works in that part of the country, the five
groups in Ross County are the most important, and among these, the
Hopewell group is preëminent. The first published notice of them, which
appeared in 1820, was by Mr. Caleb Atwater.[556] Squier and Davis
examined and described them in the years 1844–1846, and obtained large
and notable collections from them which are now in England, in the
Blackmore Museum at Salisbury, as not enough interest in such matters
then existed in America to induce the purchase and retention of these
valuable treasures. From that time until 1891, when Mr. Moorehead began
his explorations there, no one had paid much attention to these mounds,
all published accounts being derived from those of Squier and Davis.
They described them under the name of Clark’s works, from the owner of
the farm within which they lie; but the property has since passed into
the possession of Mr. M. C. Hopewell. From this fact, yet more from his
kind and intelligent interest in the work of exploration, his name has
been given to the group.

The Hopewell works are situated on the north fork of Paint Creek, about
one third of a mile from the stream. The intervening space is low
bottom-land, and the works stand upon a terrace about twenty feet high,
from which again there is a rather steep rise of thirty or forty feet
more, to the general level of the country. They consist of a nearly
quadrangular inclosure, about half a mile in length (strictly 2800
feet), and half as much in width, occupying the entire breadth of the
terrace. At its eastern end, this large inclosure opens into a second
and smaller one, an exact square of 850 feet. Within the main inclosure
are one or more village sites, a number of separate mounds, and
especially a group of several connected elevations, together known as
the Effigy mound, these being much the highest and most conspicuous, and
themselves surrounded by a semicircular inclosure. The whole suggests a
defensive work, or “walled town”; but the wall, although strongly and
carefully built, partly of stones and partly of hard clay, is so
low—only from four to six feet in height—that it could not have been a
very formidable obstacle to a vigorous assault; and, moreover, the whole
is overlooked and “commanded” from the bluff above it. The mounds, as
Squier and Davis examined them, were pronounced to be mainly of the
sacrificial or “altar” type. Since their very full and accurate account
was published, time and the hand of man have reduced and almost
obliterated portions of the wall and some of the smaller mounds, while
the creek has slightly shifted its course. When they wrote their
description, it was a little nearer than it is now; and they then
expressed the belief that it had formerly washed the base of the terrace
where the works are located.

Mr. Moorehead’s exploring party, aided by Dr. H. T. Cresson, began
operations at this notable group of mounds in August, 1891, and
continued them through about seven months, without interruption, much of
the time in severe winter weather. The work was carried on under
authority of the Anthropological Department of the Columbian Exposition
of 1893, at Chicago. All the most interesting and important of the very
extensive body of relics obtained was displayed there; and the whole
remains as a permanent exhibit in the Field (Columbian) Museum of
Natural History.

The Hopewell group comprises in all some twenty larger and smaller
mounds within the general inclosure, besides a few unimportant ones
outside of it, and the main connected group in the special inclosure
near the center. These latter form together what is known as the Effigy
mound, a name based upon its general resemblance to a reclining human
figure; but it is not constructed on a human or animal design, as are
the effigy mounds properly so called. After working for a time upon some
of the others, and finding much interesting material, Mr. Moorehead set
his men to work upon the Effigy mound, and spent most of his time and
effort upon that remarkable structure, of which he made a very thorough
and systematic exploration.

The Effigy mound is about 500 feet long and 220 feet wide, and rises 23
feet above the general surface at its highest point. It proves to belong
to the fourth class of Squier and Davis, those of mixed character, with
both altars and burials, as it contained three large altars and as many
as 175 skeletons, nearly all of adults.

Reviewing now the entire exploration of the Hopewell group, the first
mound opened, known as No. 17, was of considerable size, nearly ninety
feet in diameter, and was notable for a layer of mica—some 3000
sheets—that extended almost entirely through it. It contained a rude
altar, with ashes and bones, some copper implements, bone needles,
sharks’ teeth, and nearly 200 pounds of bright galena. The next
examined, No. 18, contained several decayed skeletons, and a good
example of an “altar,” together with ornaments cut from human skulls.
The next, No. 19, had an altar of earth, partially hardened by heat,
which was taken out entire and boxed. It was roughly cubical, about
three feet each way. In the “bowl,” or concavity, on the top of it, were
various minor implements, with some galena and mica, etc. The next
attacked was a large mound, No. 2, which had been partly opened by
Squier and Davis, nearly fifty years before. It is remarkable for its
immense store of roughly chipped flint disks, over 8000 in number, of
which 600 were taken out by Squier and Davis, and most of the remainder
by Mr. Moorehead. It would seem to have been a place of storage for
partly worked material of this kind, to preserve it from the hardening
effect of long exposure to the air.

Several other mounds yielded little of importance, save that from the
soil on the site of No. 1, which had been obliterated, were taken a
number of fragments of bone, curiously ornamented with finely carved
patterns. Two others, Nos. 4 and 5, had peculiarly constructed altars,
of which an extended account is given.

The first discovery of pearls by Squier and Davis was made in their
mound No. 9, now obliterated by a railroad. With the pearls, they report
as found on the top of a small altar, broken instruments of obsidian,
cut patterns of mica, vestiges of cloth, etc.

Mr. Moorehead’s first discovery of pearls was in a small but interesting
mound, No. 20, about forty feet in diameter. It had been reduced by
plowing to only some two feet in height; and its contents would ere long
have been broken into and scattered by the same process. This was
strictly a burial mound, and soon yielded five skeletons, one of them
being that of a child, nine or ten years of age. With these bones were
numerous objects: two large shells made into cups for drinking, several
copper articles and ornaments, among them a broad copper bracelet
encircling the right wrist, and several hundred pearl and shell beads
and small shells. The same mound yielded later some other children’s
remains, but with no important objects. A finely polished pipe and two
bear’s teeth coated with copper were also found.

Mr. Moorehead points out the evidences of a long occupation of this site
by a cultured tribe, who had commerce with the South and West more than
with the North or East.

Work was then begun, in the latter part of September, on a large and
important mound known as the Oblong (No. 23), 155 feet long by 100 feet
wide, with an elevation at present of 14 feet, and originally of perhaps
20 feet. This mound yielded thirty-nine skeletons, lying at depths
varying from eight and three fourths to eleven feet below the present
surface, nearly on the base-line of the mound. Some of these were
surrounded by boulders, others were much charred, and a good deal of
variety exists in their condition, all of which Mr. Moorehead describes
particularly. All manner of relics and objects were obtained, including
pearl beads and a splendid copper ax of seventeen pounds’ weight, of
course entirely too large for any practical use, and hence plainly a
ceremonial object or badge of some high distinction. Among the most
remarkable of the many interesting objects discovered here were the
large canine teeth of bears,[557] which had not only been drilled
through near the base of the root for suspension, like many others, but
had also been partly drilled at the middle of one side, and a large
pearl inserted into the cavity. These singular ornaments were found at
the neck of a skeleton, and had evidently been worn as pendants. It will
be remembered that almost identical specimens were found by Professor
Putnam in the Marriott mound in the Miami Valley.[558] The one here
figured is now in the Field Museum of Natural History, Chicago, with
most of the other Hopewell material.

Another somewhat similar example of the taste and art of the same
people, also preserved in the Field Museum, came from the mound known as
No. 25. This consisted of a large figure of a bird, in hammered copper,
fifteen and seven eighths inches long, with a pearl inserted to form the
eye. The head is quite expressive, and the tail-feathers well
represented, although the wings and the general proportions are rude.
This is shown about one third of the actual length.

The Effigy mound was next examined. The first trial shafts proved it to
be evidently of human construction, and not of glacial origin, as some
had supposed. One or two open cuts were then begun, using teams with a
large shovel until indications of burials were found, when the further
work would be carried on by hand, with extreme care.

After about two weeks, in which time several skeletons were unearthed,
with some shells, beads, and copper ornaments, a burial of extraordinary
character was reached on November 14. Here was lying a skeleton which
the newspapers soon reported as “The King of the Mound-Builders.” It was
much decayed, but was covered and surrounded with a wealth of relics.
The skull was surmounted by a tall cap or helmet of copper, from which
extended a wonderful pair of antlers, exactly imitating those of a deer,
but made of wood and covered with copper. The whole skeleton, to quote
the words of Mr. Moorehead, “glittered with mica, pearl, shell, and
copper.” Plates of the latter were above, beneath, and around it, with
bears’ and panthers’ teeth, etc., and over 1000 beads, many of them of
pearl. The succeeding month, during which the last cut was finished down
to the base-line, and a third one much advanced, revealed numerous
skeletons, with abundant objects of the same general kind, including a
remarkable separate deposit of copper articles of curious workmanship,
ornaments of cut mica, and one of cannel coal, fragments of meteoric
iron and celts made therefrom, and “many thousand pearl and shell
beads.” The latest trophy here unearthed was another enormous ax of
copper, nearly two feet in length, unparalleled in the world.

The first altar was next reached; it was about four by five feet, and
some six inches deep, and had an immense variety of objects upon it and
around it, nearly all entirely ruined by the fire. Among them were pearl
beads.

The largest altar had been not only heaped with all sorts of valuables,
but they had been piled around it so as to form a sloping mass of twelve
feet or more in diameter at the base. Among these was a layer of mica
plates of extraordinary size, eighteen or twenty inches in diameter. It
is not easy even now to obtain sheets of mica of such dimensions, in any
quantity. Carvings and effigies in bone and slate, rock crystal
arrow-heads, obsidian knives, etc., etc., damaged and broken by heat,
were cemented together by half-melted copper. The pearl and shell beads
taken out amid the ashes are estimated at not less than 100,000.

The Effigy mound, “a place for ceremony, for sacrifice, for burial,” as
Mr. Moorehead calls it, thus combining the character of the first three
classes distinguished by Squier and Davis, is seen not to have been
constructed at one time, but to have developed gradually through perhaps
a long period. The several altars, the more important burials, the store
of copper objects, each was surmounted by a small and separate mound.
“These may have been built on the level dance or ceremonial floors, from
time to time. When the entire floor was covered, the people brought
large quantities of earth and gravel, heaped it on top of the irregular
contour of the small mounds, and this formed the present Effigy.”

The population that occupied the main inclosure was apparently not very
large, as compared with some other of the important earthworks, such as
Fort Ancient, or Madisonville. From the distribution of village-site
debris, Mr. Moorehead estimates that there could have been only from two
hundred to three hundred lodges, even if these were all occupied at the
same time. But the indications of traffic and of art show that it must
have been a community advanced in culture beyond most of its neighbors.
Mr. Moorehead believes it to have been a sort of capital among a body of
allied or affiliated tribes who made and occupied the similar earthwork
towns of the “mound belt,”—a center of production and distribution of
art objects, and a place for the holding of great religious ceremonials.
It may be noted, however, that the art was developed in certain
directions and not in others wherein it might be expected. In hammered
copper-work and in drilling, it was most remarkable, in the latter
extending even to the perforation of quartz crystals, but of pottery
there is little, and that not very choice—a striking contrast to the
abundant and elaborately ornamental potter’s art of the tribes in the
Southwest.

Tonti, the historian of La Salle’s expedition, in the eighteenth
century, states that La Salle actually saw mound-dwellers among southern
tribes of Indians, living very much as the Ohio mound-builders must have
done, and quite untouched as yet by any contact with the whites. Tonti
describes the dwellings, made of sun-dried mud and with dome-shaped
roofs of cane; two of them were larger and better constructed than the
rest, one the chief’s house and the other a temple, both about forty
feet square. The latter held the bones of deceased chieftains, and was
surmounted by three rude, wooden eagles. In the center was apparently “a
kind of altar,” where was maintained a perpetual fire of logs, watched
by two aged men. A recess, to which strangers were not admitted,
contained the treasures of the tribe, especially pearls from the Gulf,
as he was told. The chief returned the visit of La Salle, coming in
great state, with attendants, one of whom bore a disk of copper,
supposed to represent the sun, the chief’s great ancestor.[559] The
wooden eagles recall the large copper bird taken from mound No. 25 at
Hopewell; and the copper disk carried before the chief suggests a
similar use for some of the large objects of the same metal. The whole
account is extremely interesting in its resemblance to the Ohio remains.

The most complete study of these ancient structures is that of the
Harness mound, not far distant from the Hopewell, conducted under the
direction of the Ohio State Archæological and Historical Society, in
1905, by their curator and librarian, Prof. William C. Mills.[560]

The Harness group contains within and about it fourteen mounds; the
works as a whole were described by Squier and Davis, on page 56 of their
great report (“Ancient Monuments of the Mississippi Valley,” 1848), and
have been frequently mentioned and pictured for their striking form,—a
large and perfect circle, opening at one side into a smaller circle and
also into an exact square. They are located, like the Hopewell, in Ross
County, and stand on a terrace of the Scioto River, nearly a mile from
its eastern bank, and about eight miles south of Chillicothe.

The square inclosure measures 1080 feet on each side, and the diameters
of the two circles are about 1600 feet for the larger and 650 feet for
the smaller. In general character, this group closely resembles the
Hopewell: there is the same low wall or embankment, some four feet high,
though without any ditch as at Hopewell, and the same problem as to its
object. A number of small mounds are placed here and there, and one
large and important one recalls the Effigy, though it is somewhat less
in size and much more regular in form. In 1846, when Squier and Davis
examined it, unfortunately most of the ground was covered with woods;
but these are gone, and the works have since been much reduced by
tillage and partly obliterated by railroad and other constructions.

The one large mound is named for the recent owner of the property, Mr.
Edwin Harness; the present owner, his son, Mr. John M. Harness, aided
and facilitated the explorations in every way. This fact, as also in the
case of Mr. Hopewell, stands in pleasing and honorable contrast to the
narrow policy of some land-owners, who refuse permission for any such
work, even when the structures are upon unused and valueless ground.

The large mound is an almost perfect oval in form, 160 feet long and
some 80 feet across at its widest point, which is about one third of the
way from the northern end; in height it is nearly 20 feet, or was before
its recent removal. It was partly explored by Squier and Davis in 1846,
and quite extensively by Professor Putnam in 1885, and, unlike the
Effigy mound, had been repeatedly opened and examined in a small way by
both official and unofficial explorers. In 1896, Mr. W. K. Moorehead
took up the work where Professor Putnam had stopped, and carried it
considerably further, under the auspices of the Ohio Archæological and
Historical Society; and the same body, in 1905, commissioned Mr. Mills
to resume and complete the examination, removing the entire structure
down to its base.

The Harness mound, unlike the Effigy, was for burial purposes only.
There must have been nearly two hundred. Squier and Davis found one of
these, and possibly another which they mistook for an “altar”; and they
state their belief that the mound probably contained other burials which
their two pits had not revealed. Professor Putnam encountered 12
burials, Mr. Moorehead 27, and the final exploration 133, making a total
of 174. Besides these, an unknown number have been disturbed and removed
by occasional explorers. Of the 174 recorded, only ten had been buried
without being burned; the rest were all cremated, some where they were
laid, but most of them elsewhere, and the ashes brought and placed in
the grave. This was in all cases carefully prepared, within a small
inclosure of logs, the decayed and charred remains of which are clearly
traceable. The entire mound itself had been outlined with posts set in
the ground. the holes and impressions remaining as evidence of the fact.

Mr. Mills outlines the history of this mound, in a way that recalls Mr.
Moorehead’s views as to the gradual growth of the Effigy. It began as a
place for the holding of funeral rites and the deposit of the dead,
marked out by lines of posts, which show that it was from time to time
enlarged. Finally, when the place was substantially filled, earth and
gravel were deposited over the whole, and slabs of stone (particularly
noted by Squier and Davis) were laid around it, upon the lower part of
the slope.

Much description is given of the separate graves or burial chambers,
which are of several types, and of the various details of the cremated
and uncremated interments. The mound is rich in relics, although none of
the profuse sacrificial accumulations of the “altars” were encountered,
this being a mound of burial only. The relics are of the same kind, in
general, as those found in the Hopewell group, and to specify them in
detail would be only repetition. From the 133 graves opened in Mr.
Mills’s final investigation, no less than 1200 specimens were obtained
for the museum of the Archæological Society at Columbus. Among these
were artefacts of Lake Superior copper (and some pieces of native
silver), large shells from the Gulf, galena, obsidian, and much mica,
both in “blocks” and cut into ornaments, all showing the same range of
aboriginal commerce as already described at Hopewell. In reference to
pearls, the following are the principal observations:

Beads made from Unio pearls were very abundant everywhere in the Harness
mound, as also beads of shell. They are found in such position as to
show that they were strung and worn around the neck or wrists. One
burial (No. 100) had some 2100 pearl beads, all rather small, and some
of them perfectly round. Several hundred were obtained, however, that
ranged from one quarter to one half an inch in diameter. A number of
these are shown of natural size. The larger pearls, instead of being
bored through for beads, are frequently somewhat flattened by grinding,
and then pierced with two holes so as to attach them to a fabric. Very
large ones were sometimes set in copper,—a style of work never observed
before. Mr. Mills says of this: “Large and select pearls were flattened
upon one side by grinding, and then placed upon a circular disk of
copper a little larger than the pearl. The edges were then turned (up)
around the pearl, holding it in place. Not only were pearls set in this
way, but various pieces of shell cut in a circular form.” Fine examples
of this unique style of jewelry, of natural size, and another copper
setting of like character, from which the pearl has been lost, are shown
in plates facing pages 499 and 510.

More curious still is the discovery of imitation pearls, made of clay,
and apparently modeled from real ones as they reproduce all the
irregularities of form of the true pearls. They could easily have been
made more nearly spherical, as the beads cut from shell are so regular
as to look as though made by machinery. These somewhat irregular clay
imitations, found with the genuine pearls, were first coated with a
pulverent mica and then burned so as to preserve a pearly appearance.

Other forms of art work were abundantly represented in the Harness
mound, such as carvings and decorations in stone and bone; a variety of
textile fabrics, of which remnants are preserved when they were in
contact with plates of copper, the salts of the metal having penetrated
the fabric and prevented its entire decay; very skilful work in copper,
and to some extent in native silver and meteoric iron; and numerous
fragments of pottery, more or less ornamental with simple impressed
patterns. The “culture,” as a whole, appears to have been equal, and
very similar, to that of the Hopewell community, and these are regarded
as having been the most advanced among the Ohio mound-builders; while
the term “Fort Ancient culture” is applied to a somewhat lower grade in
the matter of arts, which has its chief illustration among the builders
and occupants of that celebrated work. By such researches, thus minutely
and systematically conducted, there is now beginning to be possible
something like a classification of these ancient unknown tribes, which
will doubtless be developed more fully, as investigation shall be
extended and its results combined and compared.

As to pearls in the mounds of Illinois, we are informed by the veteran
archæologist, Dr. J. F. Snyder, that in 1889 he found the skeletons of
three adult Indians at the base of a small mound on the bluffs of the
Sangomon River in Cass County. These skeletons were in a squatting
posture; artefacts—such as greenstone celts, a bicave stone and a heavy
pipe—had only been deposited with one of them. Around each wrist and
ankle of this skeleton were perforated beads made from _Marginella_
shells, and resting on the sternum was a solitary pearl which had
evidently formed the center of a necklace of the same small marine
shells. Although much decayed, it still retained something of its
original luster. It was spherical, measured approximately seven eighths
of an inch in diameter, and was perforated through the middle. Dr.
Snyder also states that at the base of one of the large mounds he opened
in 1895, in Brown County, on the west side of the Illinois River, he
discovered a number of the large canine teeth of the bear, perforated at
the roots, so as to be used for necklaces. On the convex side of each
tooth were from two to four pits about one third of an inch in diameter,
and the same in depth, in which gems had been inserted. Two small pearls
were still in place. Near by were the remains of another necklace
composed of alternate pearls and bone beads; the latter were oblong and
perforated lengthwise. Eight of the pearls were recovered, ranging in
diameter from one half to one third of an inch, and pierced through the
center, but all were very badly injured by the action of fire.

Mr. David I. Bushnell, who has excavated the McEvers mound in Montezuma,
Pike County, Illinois, for the Missouri Historical Society, found in
this mound a cyst containing a skeleton six feet in height and also a
skull reposing on a bundle of bones near which lay forty-five pearls,
one of them weighing fifty-two grains and still showing a beautiful
luster. Almost all the objects discovered in the mound will be presented
to the Missouri Historical Society. The large pearl would be worth from
$12,000 to $15,000 if it were in perfect condition.

We learn from Mr. Richard Herrmann, founder of the Herrmann Museum of
Natural History, Dubuque, Iowa, that on the top of the high cliff from
Eagle’s Point to its end at McKnight’s Spring, there were formerly a
great many mounds which were long ago examined by government experts.
Many ancient ornaments were found in these mounds, among them a string
of pearls, greatly damaged from having been buried for a long
period.[561] Mr. Herrmann believes that these pearls were taken from the
Mississippi River by the mound-builders.

Enough has been said, in this general sketch, to give some idea of the
extent to which pearls, largely those from the fresh-water Unios, were
gathered and used by the native tribes of North America, from the
ancient mound-builders of the Ohio Valley to the Indians encountered by
the explorers and colonists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

The love of pearls shown by the Indians was as noteworthy as was their
devotion to their dead and the superstitious mystery which enshrouds
their funeral rites; for, when the human sacrifice was consummated, the
act was performed in as earnest a spirit of devotion as was shown by
Abraham in his readiness to sacrifice Isaac, and the Indians evidenced
an almost pathetic sentiment either of reverence, duty, or supernatural
dread.

Dr. J. Walter Fewkes writes that in none of his excavations has he ever
noted pearls. Haliotis shells, conch shells, and fragments of the same
have been found in the great ruins at Casa Grande, Arizona.

Dr. Charles Hercules Read, director of the Department of Archæology of
the British Museum, states that the Mexican mosaic masks in the Christy
collection, which are pre-Columbian in origin, and probably date
hundreds of years in advance of the conquest, prove of special interest
from the fact that five of them contain an inlay of mother-of-pearl
shell. The first of these is a plain mask in which the eyes are of
mother-of-pearl; the second is a dagger having the details of
feather-work in mother-of-pearl; the third, a circular shield center
having the eyes, teeth, fingers, and toes of the figures in
mother-of-pearl; the fourth, a helmet with small pieces of pearl-shell
representing collars around the necks of rattlesnakes; and the fifth is
a jaguar in the side of which are similar inlays. These masks are
described by Dr. Read in “Archæologia,” Society of Antiquaries, London,
Vol. LIV, p. 383; in this volume the objects are shown in color. Dr.
Read communicates that the pearl jaguar seems to be of more recent
execution, but he believes the first four to be original. He is not
entirely sure that these objects contain the true mother-of-pearl, the
substance having changed so much as to make a decision doubtful even if
it were extracted. He states, however, that it is a pearly, nacreous
shell, resembling that of the ordinary pearl-oyster. In these masks are
also other shells, among them a red shell, probably a spondylus, almost
as red as coral. The mother-of-pearl is of special interest as it is
quite possible that the shell itself was known, and it may be that
pearls also formed part of a commerce that existed between the coast and
the interior.

FRESH-WATER PEARLS FROM HOPEWELL GROUP OF MOUNDS, ROSS COUNTY, OHIO

We are informed by Mr. E. P. Dieseldorf, of Coban, Republic of
Guatemala, that he has never observed pearls in the pre-Columbian graves
in Guatemala; he had, however, frequently found marine shells, whole,
and elaborated in connection with jadeite beads.

In a personal communication, Mr. Thomas Gann, of Yucatan, states that,
in excavating a mound at San Antonio, near the mouth of the Rio Hondo,
in Yucatan, he uncovered a small stone cyst or chamber, containing two
perforated, pear-like ornaments of considerable size, together with
portions of a human skeleton, painted pottery, etc. He also states that
ornaments such as beads, gorgets, and ear-pendants, made from the pearly
shell of both the oyster and the conch, are of common occurrence in many
sepulchral mounds in British Honduras and in Yucatan, and he notes the
fact that pink conch pearls are found in considerable numbers at the
present day along the coast of British Honduras. There is no especial
fishing for pearls, and they are found only incidentally in conchs which
have been gathered for food. These pearls are sold by fishermen in
Balize at prices varying from two or three dollars to twenty or thirty
apiece. In size they range from that of a large pin’s head to that of a
small pea.

Mrs. Marie Robinson Wright informs us that she has never found pearls in
the Bolivian graves, although they are quite plentiful in Bolivia
to-day, and hundreds of them are offered in the markets. The pretty
girls wear them as earrings and in their _topos_.

There is no doubt that pearls existed long before the advent of man,
both in the fresh-water and in the marine form. This is more clearly
evidenced by Sir Charles Lyell, who calls attention to the fact that the
fresh-water mussel (_Unio littoralis Gray_), formerly found in abundance
at Grays Thurrock, Essex, no longer exists in England, but occurs in
France, showing that not only had this mollusk been unseen by any
Englishman, but that the form had become extinct in an entire country.
Thus, both the pearl shell of the ocean and the pearl-mussel of the
river, for many centuries produced pearls, which passed away with the
shell itself.

A great number of fossil Unios were collected by Barnum Brown from the
Laramie clays, 130 miles northwest of Miles City, Montana. The shells
were found in a bed situated about 180 feet above the Fort Pierre shales
and, therefore, well above the recognized cretaceous strata. These
shells were in fairly good condition and retained the nacreous coloring
to a considerable extent. As some of them resemble the modern species,
it seems that the same designations might be applied to them.

Prof. R. P. Whitfield, one of our greatest palæontologists, who has
carefully examined these fossil shells, suggests that they are probably
the progenitors of the species of Unios and fresh-water mussels that now
inhabit the Mississippi and Wisconsin rivers and their tributaries, and
he proposes the following names for some of them, indicating at the same
time the living species with which he compares them: _Unio biæsopoides_,
_Unio æsopoides_ and _Unio æsopiformis_, all resembling _U. æsopus_
Green; _Unio letsoni_ = _U. cornutus_ Barnes; _Unio cylindricoides_ =
_U. cylindricus_ Say; _Unio gibbosoides_ = _U. gibbosus_ Barnes; _Unio
pyramidatoides_ = _U. pyramidatus_ Lea; _Unio retusoides_ = _U. retusus_
Lam.; _Unio verucosiformis_ = _U. verrucosus_ Barnes.

Although it is almost certain that these ancient Unios were
pearl-bearing, Professor Whitfield informs us that, in a period of fifty
years of palæontological research, he has never found a fossil pearl.

We are informed by Sophus Müller, Director of the Royal Danish Museum of
Antiquities at Copenhagen, that no Danish ornaments containing pearls
have been found dating from an earlier period than 1000 B.C.; he also
states that no fresh-water pearls have ever been discovered in the
Danish graves.

Dr. H. Ulmann, director of the great Swiss Landesmuseum at Zurich, and
Dr. Otto Leiner, director of the Rosengarten Museum at Constance,
personally communicated to us that no pearls exist in either of the
collections of these great museums, nor to their knowledge have any been
discovered in the lake-dwellings or the prehistoric graves of either
Switzerland or Baden. This may either be due to conditions favorable to
the dissolution of the pearl by the action of the ooze on the lake
bottom, or else to the entire absence of knowledge of them on the part
of a people who were familiar with many materials, since the museum
collections even show jade implements of a number of types.

Dr. Leiner, whose father was curator of the Rosengarten Museum before
him, informs us that at Bodman on Lake Constance there were found a
large number of bored cylinders, from one fourth of an inch to one inch
in length, made out of limestone. They were used for necklaces, somewhat
in the style of our Indian wampum, and were either worn alone or in
connection with bored cylinders made of the tuff-rock and also of
encrinite stems.

Dr. Leiner also asserts that he has never seen _Unio margaritifera_ in
Lake Constance; nor was there any evidence of shells, broken or
otherwise, observed by him in the excavations in the lake-dwellings.

The curator of the Rhodesia Museum, Bulawayo, South Africa, states that
in Rhodesia, in the vicinity of Bulawayo, beads made out of the shell of
the common Unio or fresh-water mussel (_Unio verreauxi_) have been
observed in the graves, although pearls themselves have never been found
with them in any burials.


ADDENDA

One of the authors used every endeavor in 1893 and 1894 to have a
bill passed by Congress for the regulation of pearl-fishing in the
United States. These efforts were frustrated by the influence of the
local pearl fishers. An attempt has now been made to preserve the
industry in Illinois, where the legislature has this spring passed a
bill for its regulation.

The first section of the bill provides:

It shall be unlawful for any person or persons to take or catch, by
any means whatever, in any of the navigable waters within the
jurisdiction of this State, any mussel, fresh-water clam or
shell-fish from the first day of October to the first day of April
(both dates inclusive) of each succeeding year.

The bill imposes upon any one who violates these provisions a fine of
not less than $25, nor more than $100, or imprisonment in the county
jail for a term not exceeding one year, or else both fine and
imprisonment at the discretion of the court.

Another section provides that any one not a resident of Illinois, who
takes clams, shell-fish, or mussels, without procuring a license, shall
be subject to a fine of not less than $50, nor more than $100, or to
imprisonment for one year, or to both penalties. The licenses may be
procured on application and payment of $50 for each vessel to be
employed, and they expire on the first day of October following their
issuance. The amount received for these licenses is to be turned over to
the State Treasurer at the end of each month and placed to the credit of
the State Fish Protective Fund. No boat having more than two bars, each
not exceeding sixteen feet in length, shall be used for this fishery,
and the space separating the hooks on these bars is not to be less than
eight inches.

Miss Carl, the artist who painted the portraits of the Empress and that
of the Dowager Empress of China, states that she wears a diamond ring.
When she shows this she apologizes for wearing it, stating that it had
been given to her by the Viceroy, Li Hung Chang, saying that she,
herself, sees no beauty in the sparkle of the diamond; for her there is
more beauty in the soft, quiet tones of the pearl than in the brilliancy
of the diamond.

During the Boxer War in China, the looting was carried on to so great an
extent, that a French hotel-keeper is said to have obtained a basket of
pearls, which he bought for a trifle, and which are said to have netted
him very nearly $1,000,000.

 

Footnote:

[1] See pp. 301, 302.

[2] See Jacobi, “Das Ramayana,” Bonn, 1893.

[3]: Geiger, “Dipavansa und Mahavansa, die beiden Chroniken der Insel
Ceylon,” Erlangen, 1901.

[4] Legge, “The Shu King,” Oxford, 1879, pp. 67, 69.

[5] See p. 404.

[6] Rawlinson, “Cuneiform Inscriptions of Babylonia and Assyria,” London,
1850, p. 38.

[7] Gen. R. xl. 6. This story also exists somewhat altered in Arabic
literature; see Weill’s “Biblical Legends of the Mussulmans,” New
York, 1846.

[8] Sale, “Preliminary Discourse to the Quran,” London, 1882, Vol. I, pp.
153–159.

[9] _Lib._ XXIII, c. 6.

[10] “Plinianæ Exercitationes in Solinum,” 1629, pp. 822–4.

[11] “Historia naturalis,” _Lib._ IX, c. 59.

[12] _Ibid._, _Lib._ XXXVII, c. 2.

[13] _Ibid._, _Lib._ IX, c. 53.

[14] _Ibid._, _Lib._ XXXIII, c. 3. Also Böttiger, “Sabina oder
Morgenscenen,” Leipzig, 1803, Vol. I, p. 158.

[15] Martial, “Epigrammata,” VIII, 81.

[16] Seneca, “De beneficiis,” _Lib._ VII, c. 9.

[17] Pliny, “Historia naturalis,” _Lib._ IX, c. 35.

[18] Equivalent to 1,875,000 ounces of silver, worth about $1,300,000 at
the present time, but of far greater value in Roman days.

[19] “Divus Julius Cæsar,” c. 50.

[20] “Dictionnaire des Antiquités Grecques et Romaines,” Paris, 1904, Vol.
III, pp. 1595–6.

[21] See p. 449.

[22] Froehner, “La Collection Tyszkiewicz,” Munich, 1892.

[23] See p. 415.

[24] Renaudot, “Ancient Accounts of India and China by Two Mohammedan
Travelers,” London, 1733, p. 98.

[25] “The Book of Ser Marco Polo,” London, 1871, Vol. II, p. 275.

[26] Analogous to the uniform European word for this gem, is the extension
of the Sanskrit form, _mukta_, from Persia to the Sulu Islands. In
Tamil, the word for pearl is _mootthoo_; in Hindustani, it is
_mootie_; in Cingalese, _mootoo_; and in Malay, _mutya_ or _mootara_.
(Ainslie, “Materia Indica,” London, 1826, Vol. I, pp. 292–297.)

[27] Gollancz, “Pearl, an English Poem of the Fourteenth Century,” London,
1891.

[28] Sachs, “Kaiserchronik,” Vol. IV, p. 261.

[29] Staudenraus, “Chronik der Stadt Landshut,” 1832, Vol. I, p. 172.

[30] Jones, “History and Mystery of Precious Stones,” London, 1880, p. 135.

[31] Humboldt, “Personal Narrative of Travels to the New Continent,”
London, 1822, Vol. II, p. 273.

[32] See p. 473.

[33] Yriarte, “Autour des Borgia,” Paris, 1891, pp. 136, 137.

[34] See Yriarte, “Venice,” Paris, 1878, p. 236.

[35] _Ibid._, pp. 252, 253.

[36] Guidius, “De Mineralibus,” Frankfort, 1627, p. 74.

[37] _Ibid._, p. 73.

[38] _Ibid._, pp. 75–77.

[39] Croker, “Lord Hervey’s Memoirs,” London, 1848, Vol. I, pp. 88, 89.

[40] “The Naturall Historie of C. Plinius Secundus,” London, 1601, Book IX,
ch. 35.

[41] “Travels of Rabbi Benjamin of Tudela,” Gerrans’s edition, London,
1783, p. 23.

[42] “Camden Britannia,” 2d edition, London, 1722, Vol. II, p. 801.

[43] _Ibid._, Vol. II, p. 1003.

[44] Richard Eden edition, London, 1577, 10th ch. of 3rd Decade, fol.
148_a_.

[45] Hawkins, “Voyage to the South Sea in 1593,” London, 1847, p. 133.

[46] Benzoni, “Novæ Novi Orbis Historiæ,” Geneva, 1578, pp. 161–163.

[47] “Philosophical Transactions,” 1674, No. 101, p. 11.

[48] Goldsmith, “History of the Earth and Animated Nature,” 1774, Vol. VI,
p. 54.

[49] Rondelet, “Universæ Aquitilium Historiæ Pars Altera,” Lugduni, 1554.

[50] “Gemmarum et Lapidum Historia,” Hanoviæ, 1609.

[51] “The Travels of Pedro Teixeira,” Hakluyt Society, p. 180.

[52] “Memoires de l’Académie des Sciences,” 1717, pp. 177–194.

[53] Grill, in “Abhandlungen der Königlichen Schwed. Akademie der
Wissenschaften,” Vol. XXXIV, p. 88, 1772.

[54] “Philosophical Transactions,” 1826, Pt. III, pp. 338–341.

[55] “Sull’origine delle Perle. II Cimento, revista di Scienze,” Torino,
1852, Vol. I, pp. 429–439.

[56] “Memorie della Reale Academia delle Scienze di Torino,” 1855, Vol. XV,
pp. 331–358; 1857, Vol. XVI, pp. 419–442, and 1859, Vol. XVIII, pp.
201–232.

[57] Müller’s “Archiv für Anatomie,” 1856, pp. 269–281.

[58] “Die echten Perlen,” Hamburg, 1858. Dr. Möbius died in Berlin, on
April 26, 1908. He was born at Eilenburg, in Saxony, in 1825.

[59] “Report on the Natural History of the Pearl Oyster of Ceylon,”
Trincomali, 1859.

[60] “Journal of the Linnean Society,” Vol. XI, pp. 426–428.

[61] “Société de Biologie, Séance du 29 décembre, 1903.”

[62] “Comptes Rendus de l’Académie des Sciences,” Vol. 133, pp. 603–605,
Oct. 14, 1901.

[63] “Proceedings of the Zoölogical Society of London,” Vol. I, pp.
140–166.

[64] “Proceedings of the Zoölogical Society of London,” 1902, pp. 148–150.

[65] “Comptes Rendus de l’Académie des Sciences,” Paris, 1903, Vol.
CXXXVII, pp. 611–613.

[66] Seurat, “Observation sur l’évolution de l’Huitre perlière des Tuamotu
et des Gambier,” 1904.

[67] “Pearl Oyster Fisheries of the Gulf of Manaar,” London, 1903, Vol. I,
p. 11.

[68] Hornell, “Report on the _Placuna placenta_ Pearl Fishery of Lake
Tampalakamam,” Colombo, 1906.

[69] “Pearl Oyster Fisheries of the Gulf of Manaar,” London, 1903, Vol. I,
p. 10.

[70] Harley, “Proceedings of the Royal Society,” Vol. XLIII, p. 461.

[71] “Die Perlenmuscheln,” Leipzig, 1859, pp. 294, 295.

[72] Harley, “Proceedings of the Royal Society of London,” Vol. XLV, p.
612.

[73] “Historia Naturalis,” _Lib._ IX, c. 35. This is also referred to by
Macrobius in Saturnaliorum conviviorum _Lib._ II, c. 13.

[74] Now in the French crown brooch in the possession of the Princess
Youssoupoff of Russia.

[75] See p. 465.

[76] Taunton, “Australind,” London, 1903, p. 224.

[77] “Tavernier’s Travels,” London, 1889, Vol. II, p. 115. See p. 97.

[78] See “Report of the Royal Society,” Oct. 13, 1688.

[79] Neither is there any special significance in the popular terms
“clams,” “mussels,” etc., as applied to the pearl-bearing species of
the rivers. The “clams,” or Unios of the Mississippi Valley, resemble
neither the long clams (_Mya_) nor the round clams (_Venus_) of the
Atlantic coast; the mussels of the fresh-water lakes are quite
distinct from the edible ones of brackish waters, and the Pinna oyster
and the giant clam (_Tridacna_) have little resemblance to the
mollusks with which these terminal names are commonly associated.

[80] Jameson, “On the identity and distribution of the mother-of-pearl
oysters; with a revision of the subgenus _Margaritifera_.” Proceedings
of the Zoölogical Society of London, Vol. L, 1901, pp. 372–394.

[81] Vassel, “Sur la Pintadine du Golfe de Gabes, Comptes Rendus Assoc.
Franç.,” 1896, pp. 458–466.

[82] See “Comptes Rendus de l’Académie des Sciences,” Paris, 1904, Vol.
CXXXVIII, pp. 301, 302.

[83] See p. 288.

[84] Garbe, “Die Indischen Mineralien,” Leipzig, 1882.

[85] Gray’s Elegy.

[86] In 1905, the Ceylon pearl yield approximated $2,000,000 in value.

[87] Including African coast.

[88] Including Sharks Bay.

[89] Oppert, “L’Ambre jaune chez les Assyriens.”

[90] Holland’s edition of 1601, p. 254.

[91] Reinaud, “Mémoire sur l’Inde,” Paris. 1849

[92] “Travels of Rabbi Benjamin of Tudela,” London, 1783.

[93] Lee, “Ibn Batuta,” 1829, p. 65.

[94] “The Travels of Lodovico di Barthema, 1503 to 1508,” London, 1863, p.
95.

[95] “Discours of Voyages into ye Easte and West Indies,” London, 1598,
folio, ch. 84.

[96] See p. 457, for Tavernier’s description of this gem.

[97] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” London, 1889, Vol. II, p. 108.

[98] Wellsted, “Travels in Arabia,” London, 1838, Vol. I, ch. 17, pp. 264,
265.

[99] In report to the Government of Bombay, dated December 15, 1865.

[100] Schlagintweit, “Nachrichtsblatt der deutschen Gesellschaft,”
Frankfurt-am-Main, 1883, pp. 153–156.

[101] Malcolm, “Sketches of Persia,” London, 1827, p. 27.

[102] “Personal Narrative of Journey through Arabia,” London, 1865, p. 100.

[103] Lord Curzon reports 4500 boats, and some other authorities state 5000,
but this probably includes a number of tenders.

[104] For this and some other data on the pearling fleet of Bahrein we are
indebted to the kindness of Dr. S. M. Zwemer, who has spent many years
at the Bahrein Islands as a missionary.

[105] “Reports by the Superintendent of the Fishery and the Inspector of the
Pearl Banks,” Colombo, 1887.

[106] Wellsted, “Travels in Arabia,” London, 1838, Vol. I, p. 266.

[107] “Histoire de l’Isle de Ceylon,” Amsterdam, 1701, ch. 22, p. 169.

[108] “An Account of the Island of Ceylon,” London, 1803, ch. 3, p. 91.

[109] “Asiatic Researches,” London, 1798, Vol. V, p. 402.

[110] Chardin, “Voyages en Perse,” Paris, 1811, Vol. III, p. 363.

[111] Sprat, “History of the Royal Society,” London, 1667, p. 169.

[112] Philosophical Transactions for 1669, No. 43, p. 863.

[113] Diemerbroeck, “Anatome Corporis Humani,” Ultrajecti, 1672.

[114] Sixth American Edition, New York, 1835, Vol. I, p. 239.

[115] Reinaud, “Fragments Arabes,” Paris, 1845, p. 126. Lee, “Ibn Batuta,”
London, 1829, p. 65.

[116] A Christian physician who lived in the time of the Khalif Wathek
Billa, about 842 A.D.

[117] “Specimen Arabicum,” Traiecti ad Rhenum, 1784, p. 64.

[118] _Ibid._, p. 65.

[119] Writers describing the early pearl fisheries on the American coast,
and especially at Cubagua on the present coast of Venezuela, also
reported very lengthy stays. In 1526, Gonzalo Fernandez de Oviedo y
Valdés wrote: “The thing that causeth men most to marvel is to
consider how many of them can remain at the bottom for the space of
one whole hour, and some more or less, according to expertness.”
(“Natural Historia de las Indias,” Toledo, 1526.) About 1588, the
Jesuit priest José de Acosta wrote: “I did see them make their
fishing, the which is done with great charge and labor of the poor
slaves, which dive 6, 7, yea 12 fathoms into the sea…; but yet the
labor and toil is greatest in holding their breath, sometimes a
quarter, yea, half an hour together under water.” (Acosta, “Natural
and Moral History of the Indies,” Hakluyt Society, 1880, p. 227.)

[120] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” Ball edition, Vol. II, pp. 114, 115.

[121] London, 1812, p. 55.

[122] See _infra._, p. 125.

[123] “The Book of Ser Marco Polo,” London, 1871, Vol. II, pp. 267, 268.

[124] Jordanus, “Mirabilia Descripta,” Hakluyt Society, 1863, p. 28.

[125] “The Voyage of John Huyghen van Linschoten to the East Indies,”
Hakluyt Society, 1884, Vol. II, pp. 133–135.

[126] “Hakluyt’s Voyages,” Vol. V, Glasgow, 1904, pp. 395–397. Benjamin
Franklin states that the Mediterranean divers, finding the light below
obscured by the surface waves, used to let a little oil out of their
mouths at intervals, which, rising to the surface, smoothed the
waters. This might be a suggestion to modern marine and fresh-water
pearl fishers.

[127] “The Travels of Pedro Teixeira,” Hakluyt Society, 1902, pp. 174–181.

[128] “Asiatic Researches,” London, 1798, pp. 393, _et seq._

[129] “The Island of Ceylon,” 1803, ch. 3.

[130] “Description of Ceylon,” 1807, Vol. II, pp. 36–78.

[131] In 1881, the number of days was the same—47, the season extending from
March 4 to April 27. In 1891 there were 40 working days, in 1904 there
were 33, in 1903 there were 36, and in 1906 there were 36 days of
actual fishing.

[132] See Reinaud’s “Fragments Arabes,” Paris, 1845, p. 125.

[133] “Pearl Oyster Fisheries of the Gulf of Manaar,” 5 vols., London,
1903–1906.

[134] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” Vol. II, ch. 21.

[135] See pp. 110, 111.

[136] The report of the Chief of Police at the 1905 fishery states: “In the
camp there were 40,000 to 50,000 persons, of whom it may be said that
not less than a tenth were gamblers, vagrants, and rogues, who,
without occupation in their own country, made their way to
Marichchukkadi with the hope of making money to gamble in oysters.”
(“Reports on the Pearl Fisheries for 1905,” Colombo, p. 17.)

[137] In 1906 there were 473 boats employed; in 1905, 318; in 1857, 1858,
1859, and 1863, over 400 boats reported for employment.

[138] Some years ago, notably in the early sixties, each and every boat was
required to have ten divers, thus making a total of 23 persons in each
boat. (See Vane’s “Report on Ceylon Pearl Fisheries,” 1863.)

[139] _Supra._, p. 100.

[140] Hornell, “Reports on the Pearl Fisheries of 1904,” Colombo, p. 31.

[141] “Reports on the Pearl Fishery for 1904,” p. 7.

[142] “Reports on the Pearl Fishery for 1905,” p. 23.

[143] _Ibid._, p. 22.

[144] “The Book of Ser Marco Polo,” London, 1871, Vol. II, p. 267.

[145] Cordiner, “Description of Ceylon,” Vol. II, p. 52.

[146] “Reports on the Pearl Fisheries of 1904,” p. 17.

[147] _Ibid._, p. 17.

[148] _Ibid._, p. 34.

[149] “Royal Asiatic Society Proceedings,” 1887–1888, p. 100.

[150] “Reports on the Pearl Fisheries of 1905,” p. 40.

[151] _Ibid._, p. 24.

[152] “Reports on the Pearl Fishery for 1904,” Colombo, p. 6.

[153] “Colonial Sessional Papers,” 1904, Colombo, p. 653.

[154] “Colonial Sessional Papers,” 1906, Colombo, p. 330.

[155] “Reports on the Pearl Fisheries for 1905,” Colombo, p. 25.

[156] Ordinance No. 8 of 1906.

[157] “Ceylon Sessional Papers,” 1906, p. 328.

[158] _Ibid._, pp. 333, 335.

[159] “Ceylon Sessional Papers,” 1906, p. 650.

[160] The Government Commission has interdicted the fishing for this year
(1908), as experts have reported the pearl-oysters were not plentiful
enough and were also immature, being only five years old. The next
fishery will be in 1909.

[161] Kelaart, “Report on the Tablegram Pearl-Oysters,” Trincomali, 1857, 6
pp.

[162] Hornell, “Report on the _Placuna placenta_ Pearl Fishery of Lake
Tampalakamam,” Colombo, 1906.

[163] Jardine, “Report Relating to the Mergui Pearl Fisheries,” Rangoon,
1894, p. 6.

[164] Nisbet, “Burma Under British Rule and Before,” Westminster, 1901, Vol.
I, p. 362.

[165] Nisbet, “Burma Under British Rule and Before,” Vol. I, p. 363.

[166] See Proverbs xxxi, 1.

[167] Hesse, “Der Zoologische Garten,” Dec. 1, 1898.

[168] Wellsted, “Travels in Arabia,” London, 1838, Vol. II, p. 238.

[169] _Ibid._, Vol. I, pp. 268, 269.

[170] “Bolletino della Società d’esplorazione commerciale in Africa,” Milan,
June, 1898.

[171] Von Hessling, “Die Perlenmuscheln,” Leipzig, 1859, p. 6.

[172] See p. 288 for an account of the methods.

[173] Statist. “Beschreibung des chines. Reiches,” 1842, Vol. II, p. 11.

[174] Ranft, “Vollständige Beschreibung des russischen Reiches,” Leipzig,
1767, p. 415.

[175] Witsen, “Nord en Oost Tartarye,” 1705. p. 762.

[176] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” Ball edition, London, 1889, Vol. II,
pp. 113, 114.

[177] One candareen equals 5.72 grains.

[178] One koban equals 66 cents.

[179] $4200.

[180] Kaempfer, “History of Japan,” 1728, Vol. I, pp. 110, 111.

[181] _Ibid._, Vol. I, p. 139.

[182] Joao dos Santos, “Ethopia Oriental,” Lisbon, 1609, Vol. i, c. 27.

[183] Lisbon Geographical Society Report, January, 1903.

[184] “Britanniam petiisse spe margaritarum, quarum amplitudinem
conferentem, interdum sua manu exegisse pondus.” “Divus Julius
Caesar,” c. 47.

[185] “Naturall Historie,” Holland edition, London, 1601, _Lib._ IX, c. 35.

[186] “Vita Agricolæ,” c. 12.

[187] Giles’s edition, London, 1840, p. 6.

[188] Joyce. “Social History of Ancient Ireland.” New York. 1903. Vol. II,
p. 227.

[189] Nicolai, “Anglia Sacra,” Vol. II, p. 236. Also “Alberti Magni Opera
Omnia,” ed. Augusti Borgnet, Paris. 1890, Vol. V., p. 41.

[190] “Histoire de l’Orfèvrerie-Joaillerie.” Paris, 1850, p. 46. De Laborde,
“Emaux,” Paris, 1852, Vol. II, p. 437.

[191] Camden. “Britannia.” 2nd edition, London, 1722, Vol. II, p. 802.

[192] Macpherson, “Annals of Commerce,” Vol. II, p. 131.

[193] Sibbald, “Hist. Nat. Scotiae,” 1684, Vol. III, p. 27.

[194] Camden, “Britannia,” London, 1695, p. 924.

[195] London, 1777, Vol. II., p. 24.

[196] “History of Cumberland,” London, 1794, Vol. I, p. 573.

[197] Joyce. “Social History of Ancient Ireland,” New York, 1903, Vol. II,
p. 227.

[198] “Transactions of the Royal Society of London, for 1693,” Vol. XVIII,
No. 198, pp. 659–663.

[199] Pennant, “Tour in Scotland,” Chester, 1771.

[200] London “Times,” December 24, 1863.

[201] Hugh Miller, “My Schools and Schoolmasters,” 1852, p. 201.

[202] Puton, “Mollusques terrestres et fluviales des Vosges: Le Département
des Vosges, statistique, historique, et administrative, par Henri
Lepaye et Ch. Charton,” Nancy, 1845, 8vo, 2 vols., Vol. I.

[203] Godron, “Les perles de la Vologne, et le Château-sur-Perle.” “Mémoires
de l’Académie de Stanislas, 1869,” Nancy, 1870, pp. 10–30.

[204] Volcyr, “Cronicque abrégée par petits vers huytains des Empereurs,
Roys, et Ducz d’Austraisie,” etc., Paris, 1530.

[205] Reues, “De Gemmis aliquot,” etc., Tiguri, 1566, p. 47.

[206] Claude de la Ruelle, “Les pourtraicts des ceremonies, … et pompe
funèbres faitez au corps de feu Charles III, Duc de Lorraine,” etc.
Nancy, 1609.

[207] Lister, “Journey to Paris in the year 1698,” London, p. 143.

[208] Durival, “Description de la Lorraine et du Barrois,” Nancy, 1779, Vol.
I, p. 280.

[209] Bonnemere, “Les perles fines de l’Ouest de la France,” “Revue des
sciences naturelles de l’Ouest,” 1899, Vol. III, p. 97–99.

[210] “La Nature,” 1899, pp. 347, 348.

[211] Von Hessling, “Ueber die Erzeugung künstlicher Perlen,” “Gelehrte
Anzeigen der Münchener Akademie,” 1856, Vol. II, p. 159.

[212] Weinmann, “Bresslauer Naturgeschichten,” 1725.

[213] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” 1889, Vol. II, p. 113.

[214] Von Hessling, “Die Perlenmuscheln,” Leipzig, 1859, p. 179.

[215] “Beiträge zur Naturkunde des Herzogthums Celle,” Halle, 1766, Pt. I,
p. 70.

[216] Von Hessling, “Die Perlenmuscheln,” p. 180.

[217] Möbius, “Die echten Perlen,” Hamburg, 1858., p. 47.

[218] Jahn, “Voigtländische Perlenfischerei,” p. 165; Von Hessling, “Die
Perlenmuscheln,” p. 182.

[219] Von Hessling, “Die Perlenmuscheln,” p. 182.

[220] “Die echten Perlen,” p. 48.

[221] Gesner, “De aquatilibus,” Tiguri, 1560.

[222] Bohuslai Balbini, “Miscellanea historica regni Bohemiæ,” Prague, 1679,
Vol. I, p. 73.

[223] “Allg. Zeitung,” Nov. 1, 1858, No. 305.

[224] Von Hessling, “Die Perlenmuscheln,” Leipzig, p. 178.

[225] Holberg, “Danmarks Riges Historie,” Reicharot edition, 1743, Vol. II,
p. 632.

[226] Thaaruys, “Versuch einer Statistik der dänischen Monarchie,”
Copenhagen, 1795, Pt. I, p. 416.

[227] Jahn, “Voigtländische Perlenfischerei,” p. 175; and Von Hessling, “Die
Perlenmuscheln,” p. 189.

[228] Pontoppidan, “Versuch einer natürlichen Historie von Norwegen,”
Copenhagen, 1754, Vol. II, p. 309.

[229] Olaus Magnus, “Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus,” Antwerp, 1562,
c. 6, p. 192.

[230] Linnæus, “Lach. Lapponica,” Vol. II, pp. 104–107.

[231] See “Abhandlungen der Schwedischen Akademie,” 1742, Vol. IV, p. 240;
1759, Vol. XXI, p. 136, and 1762, Vol. XXIV, p. 64.

[232] “Die Perlenmuscheln,” Leipzig, 1859, p. 194.

[233] Kawall, “La pêche des perles en Livonie,” “Annales de la Société
Malacologique de Belgique,” 1872, Vol. VII, pp. 38–46.

[234] Dionysius Fabricius, “Scriptor rerum Livonicarum,” 1612, Vol. II, p.
440.

[235] G. F. Mylius, “Memorabilium Saxoniae subterraneae,” Leipzig,
1709–1718, Vol. II, p. 20.

[236] Charles Zeze, “Considerations sur les lièvres blancs en Livonie,”
1749, p. 52.

[237] A. H. Hupel, “Nouvelles topographiques de Livonie et d’Esthionie,”
1774, Vol. I, p. 134.

[238] “Die Perlenmuscheln,” Leipzig, p. 196.

[239] Baer and Helmersen, “Beiträge zur Kenntniss des russischen Reiches,”
St. Petersburg, 1845, Vol. XI, pp. 143, 144.

[240] Kohl, “Reisen in Südrussland,” 2nd edition, Leipzig, 1846, Vol. I, p.
15.

[241] “Voyage aux Iles du Grand Océan,” Paris, 1838; also “Le
Correspondant,” March 10, 1906.

[242] “La Peche et la Culture des Huitres Perlières à Tahiti; Pêcheries de
l’Archipel Tuamotu,” Paris, 1885.

[243] Seurat, “L’huitre perlière,” Paris, 1900, p. 133.

[244] Lucatt, “Rovings in the Pacific from 1837 to 1849,” London, 1851, Vol.
I, p. 245.

[245] “Bulletin United States Fish Commission,” Vol. V, p. 293.

[246] Alexander, “Report United States Fish Commission,” Vol. XXVII, p. 764.

[247] “Tahiti et les Colonies Françaises de la Polynésie,” Paris, 1887, p.
173.

[248] “Report on Pearl Fisheries of North Queensland,” Brisbane, 1890.

[249] Garran, “Australasia Illustrated,” Sydney, 1892, Vol. II, p. 886.

[250] Gill, “Life in the Southern Isles,” London, 1876, p. 294.

[251] “Australind,” London, 1900, pp. 233–239.

[252] 45 Victoriæ, No. 2.

[253] 50 Victoriæ, No. 2.

[254] 55 Victoriæ, No. 29.

[255] 50 Victoriæ, No. 7.

[256] 55 Victoriæ, No. 29.

[257] “Departmental Commission on Pearl Shell and Bêche-de-Mer Fisheries,”
Brisbane, 1897.

[258] “Report on the Fishing Industry for the Year 1905,” Perth, 1906, pp.
4–7.

[259] During the month of June, 1908, a severe storm destroyed a pearling
fleet, with a loss of 40 vessels and 270 lives.

[260] “Report of Departmental Commission on Pearl Shell and Bêche-de-Mer
Fisheries,” Brisbane, 1897.

[261] 55 Victoriæ, No. 29.

[262] To this should be added the output of Sharks Bay, amounting to £2000
in 1906, making a total of $450,000.

[263] See pp. 70 and 200.

[264] Comyn, “State of the Philippine Islands,” London, 1820, pp. 38, 39.

[265] “Storia Naturale delle Gemme,” Naples, 1730. Vol. I, p. 461.

[266] Crawfurd, “History of the Indian Archipelago,” Edinburgh, 1820, Vol.
III, p. 445.

[267] Act No. 51, June 7, 1904.

[268] A letter from the Bureau of Insular Affairs, dated November 20, 1906,
states: “It is proposed by the officials of the Moro province to amend
the regulations so that, under certain restrictions, vessels of
foreign build may engage in pearl fisheries.”

[269] Act No. 43, amended June 7, 1904.

[270] “Historia general de las Indias,” by Francisco Lopez de Gomara, 12mo,
1554, pp. 104–106 b.

[271] Herrera, “Historia general de los hechos de los Castellanos en las
islas y Tierra Firme del Mar Oceano,” Dec. iii, Book VII, ch. 3.

[272] Herrera, “Descripcion de las Indias Occidentales,” Dec. iv, Book VI,
ch. 12.

[273] Humboldt’s “Personal Narrative,” Vol. II, p. 273.

[274] Translated from “Historia del Mondo Nuovo,” Geneva, 1578.

[275] Translation of Chauveton’s Notes to Benzoni’s “Historia del Mondo
Nuovo,” Geneva, 1578, fol. 170.

[276] _Ibid._, fol. 168.

[277] “Natural and Moral History of the Indies,” Hakluyt Society, London,
1880, p. 228.

[278] Humboldt, “Personal Narrative of Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of
the New Continent, 1799–1804.”

[279] Findlay, “Directory for the Navigation of the Pacific Ocean,” London,
1851, Vol. I, p. 217.

[280] Rosales, “Gran Recopilación de Venezuela,” Caracas, 1889.

[281] Gomara, “Historia general de las Indias,” 1554, pp. 268, 269 b.

[282] 111½ ounces of gold; present value about $2300.

[283] Gemelli-Careri, “Giro del Mondo,” Venezia, 1719, p. 240.

[284] Ulloa, “Relación historica del viage á la América meridional,” Madrid,
1748.

[285] “Ulloa’s Voyage to South America,” translated by J. Adams, London,
1758.

[286] Hakluyt’s “Voyages,” Glasgow, 1904, Vol. IX, pp. 318, 319.

[287] Clavigero, “Storia della California,” Venezia, 1789, Vol. I, p. 161.

[288] Venegas, “Noticia de las Californias,” Madrid, 1757, p. 454.

[289] Clavigero, “Historia de la Baja antigua California.” Esteva, “Boletin
de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geographia y Estadistica,” Vol. X, pp.
673–697.

[290] Pedro Alvarado, “Historia California,” Vol. I, p. 10.

[291] Baegert, “Nachrichten von der Amerikanischen Halbinsel Californien,”
Mannheim, 1772.

[292] Arch. Cal. Prov. St. Pap. xvi. Ben. Mil. xvi, xvii, xviii.

[293] Hardy, “Travels in Mexico,” London, 1829, pp. 231–238.

[294] Diguet, “Bulletin de la Société Centrale d’Aquiculture,” Paris, 1895,
Vol. VII, pp. 1–18.

[295] Esteva, “Memoria sobre la Pesca de la Perla,” “Boletin de la Sociedad
Mexicana de Geographía,” Vol. X, pp. 681–688.

[296] Lassepas, “Historia de la Baja California,” Mexico, 1859, p. 65.

[297] Pujol, “Estudio Biológico sobre la ostra Avicula margaritiferus,”
“Boletin de la Sociedad de Geographía,” Epoc. 2, Vol. III, p. 139 _et
seq._

[298] Diguet, “Bulletin de la Société Centrale d’Aquiculture,” 1895, Vol.
VII.

[299] Lassepas, “Historia de la Colonizaciónde la Baja California,” Mexico,
1859.

[300] “Recueil des pièces sur la Floride,” Paris, 1841.

[301] “Relaçam verdadeira dos Trabalhos q ho gouernador dō Fernādo de Souto
e certos fidalgos portugueses passarom no descobrimēto da provincia da
Frolida. Agora nouamente feita per hū fidalgo Deluas.”

[302] “La Florida del Ynca,” Lisbon, 1605.

[303] One arroba = twenty-five pounds’ weight.

[304] “Discovery of Florida,” Hakluyt Society, 1851, Vol. IX, p. 181.

[305] _Ibid._, p. 50.

[306] “Discovery of Florida,” Hakluyt Society, 1851, Vol. IX, p. 60.

[307] Bernard Shipp, “The History of Hernando de Soto and Florida from 1512
to 1568,” Philadelphia, 1881, 8vo, p. 364.

[308] Bernard Shipp, “The History of Hernando de Soto and Florida from 1512
to 1568,” Philadelphia, 1881, 8vo, p. 369.

[309] _Ibid._, p. 372.

[310] “Relation of Alvar Nunez Cabeça de Vaca,” translated by Buckingham
Smith, New York, 1871.

[311] Bernard Shipp, “History of Hernando de Soto and Florida,”
Philadelphia, 1881, p. 586.

[312] Hakluyt, “The Principall Navigations, Voiages, and Discoveries of the
English Nation,” London, 1589.

[313] “Purchas’s Pilgrims,” London, 1625, Vol. IV, p. 179.

[314] Hakluyt’s “Voyages,” Glasgow, Vol. VIII, p. 357.

[315] P. F. X. de Charlevoix, “History of New France,” New York, 1900, p.
129.

[316] “Voyage of Father Gravier in 1700 From the Country of Illinois to the
Mouth of the Mississippi,” Cleveland, 1900, p. 141.

[317] Coxe, “A Description of the English Province of Carolana, by the
Spaniards call’d Florida, and by the French La Louisiane, as also of
the Great and Famous River Meschacebe or Missisipi,” London, 1722, pp.
82, 83.

[318] “Allgemeine Handelszeitung,” Leipzig, April, 1789, p. 218.

[319] “Frank Leslie’s Magazine,” New York, May 23, 1857, Vol. III, pp.
384–386.

[320] “Gems and Precious Stones of North America,” by George F. Kunz, New
York, 1889–1892, pp. 211–257. “The Fresh-Water Pearls of the United
States,” Washington, 1898, 50 pages and plates.

[321] “Neue Zeit,” in Ausland, 1858, No. 8, p. 192.

[322] See p. 258.

[323] Illinois State has passed a bill to regulate pearl fishing. See
Addendum on p. 513.

[324] Philostratus, “Vita Apollonii,” _Lib._ III, c. 57, edit. Olearii, p.
139. Also see Konrad von Gessner, “Historiæ natura,” _Lib._ IV, p.
634.

[325] Vol. XXII, pp. 425–437.

[326] Pulteney, “General View of the Writings of Linnæus,” London, 1805.

[327] “Proceedings of the Linnean Society of London,” October, 1905. p. 26.

[328] Pearl: an excrescence on the inside of a shell when the outside has
been perforated.

[329] Beckmann, “History of Inventions,” London, 1846, Vol. I, p. 263.

[330] London, 1821, p. 48.

[331] “Proceedings of the Linnean Society of London,” October, 1905, p. 29.

[332] See Grill, “Abhandlungen der königlichen Schwedischen Akademie der
Wissenschaften auf das Jahr 1772,” Leipzig, Vol. XXXIV, pp. 88–90.

[333] “Journal of the Society of Arts,” Vol. II, pp. 72–75.

[334] “Proceedings of the Linnean Society of London,” October, 1905, p. 28.

[335] “La Pèche et la Culture des Huitres Perlières à Tahiti,” Paris, 1885.

[336] “Comptes Rendus de l’Académie des Sciences,” Vol. CXXVII, pp. 828–830.

[337] See p. 73.

[338] Kæmpfer, “History of Japan,” London, 1728, Vol. I, pp. 110–112.

[339] “Notes and Queries,” 3rd Series, Vol. II, p. 228.

[340] “Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society,”
Singapore, 1878, Vol. I., pp. 31–37.

[341] “Jewelers’ Review,” May 10, 1892.

[342] Bloomfield, “Hymns of the Atharvaveda,” Oxford, 1897, p. 62.

[343] Macgowan, “Journal of the Society of Arts,” Vol. II, p. 73.

[344] Pfirzmaier, “Kaiserliche Akademie der Wissenschaften,” Wien, 1868,
Vol. LVII, p. 623.

[345] Translated from Klenn, “Culturgeschichte,” Leipzig, 1852, Vol. X, p.
318.

[346] Tennyson, “Idylls of the King.”

[347] “Opera omnia,” Paris, 1864, Vol. V, p. 473.

[348] W. & G. Audsley, “Handbook of Christian Symbolism,” London, 1865, p.
140.

[349] “Lucile,” Pt. II, c. 6, st. 16.

[350] “Le Mercure Indien, ou le Trésor des Indes,” Paris, 1672, p. 160.

[351] Many Greek scholars maintain that this is a knotted cord or fillet;
but this view is contested by others.

[352] Edited by Jibananda Vidyasagara, Calcutta, 1877.

[353] Edited by Vidyasagara, 1873.

[354] Garbe, “Die Indischen Mineralien.” Narahari’s “Raganighantu,” Varga
XIII, Leipzig, 1882, p. 74.

[355] Ainslie, “Materia Indica,” London, 1826, Vol. I, p. 292.

[356] “Maṉi-málá,” Calcutta, 1881, p. 871.

[357] “Maṉi-málá,” Calcutta, 1879, p. 315.

[358] Finot, “Les Lapidaires Indiens,” Paris, 1896, p. 15.

[359] “Materia medica of India and their Therapeutics,” Bombay, 1903, p. 98.

[360] “Alberti Magni Opera omnia,” ed. Augusti Borgnet, Paris, 1890, Vol. V,
p. 41.

[361] “Lapidario del Rey D. Alfonso X,” Codice original, Madrid, 1881, p. 4.

[362] De Boot, “Gemmarum et Lapidum Historia,” Hanover, 1609, _Lib._ II, c.
38, p. 87.

[363] Margaritologia, Monachii, 1637.

[364] Lovell, “Panmineralogicon,” Oxford, 1661, pp. 77, 78.

[365] Jones, “Credulities Past and Present,” London, 1880, p. 166.

[366] “Speculum lapidum,” Venice, 1502, p. 37.

[367] Yriarte, “Florence,” Paris, 1881, p. 39.

[368] Bacon, “Historia Vitæ et Mortis,” Londini, 1623, p. 100.

[369] Grew, Nehemiah, “Musæum Regalis Societatis,” London, 1681, p. 145.

[370] “A Queen’s Delight,” London, 1671, pp. 75, 76.

[371] “Hamlet,” Act V, sc. 2.

[372] W. J. Lawson, “History of Banking,” London, 1850, pp. 24, 25.

[373] “The Naturall Historie of C. Plinius Secundus,” _Lib._ IX, c. 35. This
anecdote is mentioned also by Macrobius (_Circa_ 400 A.D.) in
“Saturnaliorum conviviorum libri septem,” _Lib._ II, c. 13.

[374] See p. 55.

[375] “The Naturall Historie of C. Plinius Secundus,” _Lib._ IX, c. 35.

[376] See the epitaph of Tutichylus “qui fuit margaritarius,” Orelli, 4076.

[377] Lowis d’A. Jackson, “Modern Metrology,” London, 1881, p. 370.

[378] Grimm, “Deutsches Wörterbuch,” Leipzig, 1873, Vol. V, p. 205.

[379] Guillaume, “Les récents progrès du système métrique,” Paris, 1907, pp.
62–66, “La réforme du carat.”

[380] William Hallock and Herbert T. Wade. “Outlines of the Evolution of
Weights and Measures and the Metric System,” New York, 1906, p. 25.

[381] “A New English Dictionary,” Oxford and New York, 1893, Vol. II, Pt. I,
p. 105.

[382] Buteonis, “Opera Geometrica,” Lugduni, 1554, pp. 88–96.

[383] See “Edelsteinkunde,” Wilhelm Rau, Leipzig, 1907, p. 137.

[384] “Les Lapidaires Indiens,” Paris, 1896.

[385] The guñja was one fifth of a mâsaka and equaled about 2¼ grains.

[386] Finot, “Les Lapidaires Indiens,” Paris, 1896, p. 22.

[387] “Fior di Pensieri sulle Pietre Preziose di Ahmed al Teifascite,” text
and translation by Antonio Raineri, Florence, 1818, pp. 8, 9.

[388] Charles Barbot, “Traite Complète des Pierres Précieuses,” Paris, 1858,
p. 467.

[389] Emanuel, “Diamonds and Precious Stones,” 2nd edition, London, 1867, p.
6.

[390] Anselmi de Boot, “Gemmarum et Lapidum Historia,” Hanoviae, 1609, pp.
88–90.

[391] De Rosnel, “Le Mercure Indien,” Paris, 1672, Pt. III, pp. 17, 18.

[392] Rice Vaughan, “A Discourse of Coin and Coinage,” London, 1675, p. 241.

[393] David Jeffries, “A Treatise on Diamonds and Pearls,” London, 1751, pp.
128–141.

[394] “Encyclopédie de Diderot et d’Alembert,” Neuchâtel and Paris, 1774,
Vol. XII, p. 385.

[395] Pio Naldi, “Delle Gemme e delle Regole per Valutarle,” Bologna, 1791,
p. 207.

[396] Emanuel, “Diamonds and Precious Stones,” London, 1867, p. 197.

[397] “L’Encyclopédie ou Dictionnaire Raisonné des Sciences,” Neuchâtel and
Paris, 1774, Vol. XII, p. 385.

[398] “Delle Gemme,” etc., 1791.

[399] See “Report to the Government of Ceylon on the Pearl Oyster Fisheries
of the Gulf of Manaar,” by W. A. Herdman, F.R.S., Pt. V, London, 1906,
pp. 34–36.

[400] See pp. 124–127.

[401] See “Modern Metrology,” Lowis d’A. Jackson, London, 1882, p. 369.

[402] From “Navaratnapariska,” in Finot, “Les Lapidaires Indiens,” p. 158.

[403] Guillielmi Budaei, “De Asse,” Venice, 1522, _Lib._ V, pp. 67, 68.

[404] Caire and Dufie, “La Science des Pierres Précieuses appliquée aux
Arts,” Paris, 1833.

[405] Charles Barbot, “Traité Complète des Pierres Précieuses,” Paris, 1858,
pp. 464, 465.

[406] “The Book of Ser Marco Polo, the Venetian.” Trans. and ed. by Col.
Henry Yule, London, 1871, Vol. II, p. 275.

[407] General Appraisers 5146 (Treasury Department 23748).

[408] December 6, 1901; 112 Fed. Rep. 672.

[409] Suit No. 3328.

[410] Dec. 29, 1903.

[411] Suit No. 4974.

[412] General Appraisers 4166.

[413] General Appraisers 5148.

[414] Suits Nos. 2781 and 3324.

[415] John and Andrew van Rymsdyk, “Museum Brittanicum,” London, 1778, p. 8,
note.

[416] Finot, “Les Lapidaires Indiens,” Paris, 1896, p. 24.

[417] “An Essay upon Various Arts, in Three Books by Theophilus, called also
Rugerus, Priest and Monk, Forming an Encyclopedia of Christian Art of
the Eleventh Century.” Translated, with notes, by Robert Hendrie.
London, 1847.

[418] “Indian Art,” by Sir George C. M. Birdwood (South Kensington Museum
Art Books), Pt. II, pp. 188, 248.

[419] Anselmi de Boodt, “Gemmarum et Lapidum Historia,” Hanover, 1609.
_Lib._ II, c. 40, “Quomodo margaritae perforuntur,” p. 91.

[420] See portrait facing page 442.

[421] Charles Barbot, “Traité Complète des Pierres Précieuses,” Paris, 1858,
pp. 464, 465.

[422] “Délégation en Perse,” Paris, 1905, Vol. VIII, p. 52.

[423] De Morgan, “Délégation en Perse,” Paris, 1905, Vol. VIII, p. 52.

[424] Imhoof-Blumer, “Porträtköpfe auf antiken Münzen,” pl. 7, figs. 12 sqq.

[425] See “Délégation en Perse,” Vol. VIII. “Recherches Archéologiques.”
Paris, 1905, third series, pp. 51–2, pl. 5.

[426] Equivalent to about 1,250,000 ounces of silver; Hardouin says
7,600,000 francs.

[427] “Naturall Historie,” London, 1601, _Lib._ IX, c. 35.

[428] MS. Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, 2089, XLVII, No. 12.

[429] “Dictionnaire des Antiquites Grecques et Romaines,” ed. by Deremberg
and Saglio: Art. “Inaures” by Pottier, Paris, 1899, Vol. III, pp.
440–447.

[430] Babelon, “Cab. des Antiq.,” pl. 33, fig. 3.

[431] Duruy, “Hist. des Romains,” Vol. I, p. 511.

[432] Custodian of the coin collection of the Philadelphia Mint.

[433] Imperial Museum of Archæology, St. Petersburg, Russia.

[434] “Della Storia Naturale delle Gemme delle Pietre e di tutti i
Minerali,” Giacinto Gimma, Naples, 1730.

[435] Tabari, “Chronique,” translated by Zotenberg, Paris, 1869, Vol. II, p.
304.

[436] _Ibid._, Vol. III, p. 417.

[437] Alexander, “The History of Women,” London, 1782, Vol. II, p. 136.

[438] “The Book of Ser Marco Polo, the Venetian,” trans. and ed. by Col.
Henry Yule, London, 1871, Vol. I, p. 343.

[439] De Mély, “Les Lapidaires Chinois,” Paris, 1896, p. 178.

[440] “The Book of Ser Marco Polo, the Venetian,” trans. and ed. by Col.
Henry Yule, London, 1871, Vol. II, p. 275.

[441] Alexander, “The History of Women,” London, 1782, Vol. II, p. 172.

[442] Max Müller, “Rig-Veda Samhita,” 1862, Vol. IV, p. 64.

[443] Alexander, “The History of Women,” London, 1782, Vol. II, p. 171.

[444] From a letter of Charles Roach Smith, Esq., F. S. A., to John Gage
Rokewode, F. R. S. “Archæologia,” Vol. XXIX, p. 70.

[445] Augustus C. Hamlin, “Leisure Hours Among the Gems,” Boston, 1884, p.
22.

[446] Dieulafoy, “L’art antique de la Perse,” Paris, 1884. Pt. V, p. 137.

[447] Maskell, “Russian Art” (South Kensington Museum Handbooks),
London, 1884, pp. 83, 84; also “La Russie Méridionale,” by
Reinach-Kondakoff-Tolstoy, pp. 489, 490.

[448] “Die Domkirche bei St. Veit in Prag,” Prague, 1890, pp. 13, 19, 21.

[449] Abridged from a description by Professor Tennant.

[450] Davenport Debrett, “Dictionary of the Coronation,” London, p. 52.

[451] Sir Walter Scott, “Description of the Regalia of Scotland,” Edinburgh,
1869.

[452] Communicated by Prof. H. Schumacher of Bonn and Johann Wagner & Sohn,
Jewelers of the German Court.

[453] W. Jones, “Crowns and Coronations,” London, 1883, p. 425.

[454] Otto von Falke and Heinrich Frauberger, “Deutsche Schmelzarbeiten des
Mittelalters,” Frankfort-on-the-Main, 1904, p. 2.

[455] Otto von Falke and Heinrich Frauberger, “Deutsche Schmelzarbeiten des
Mittelalters,” Frankfort-on-the-Main, 1904, pp. 6, 7.

[456] _Ibid._, p. 9.

[457] _Ibid._, p. 16.

[458] Josef Dankó, “Aus dem Graner Domschatz,” Gran, 1880, pp. 64–66.

[459] Josef Dankó, “Aus dem Graner Domschatz,” Gran, 1880, pp. 67–70.

[460] _Ibid._, pp. 74, 75.

[461] “Katalog der Schatzkammer von Maria Loretto am Hradschin zu Prag,”
Prague, 1891, pp. 34, 40.

[462] Maskell, “Russian Art” (South Kensington Museum Handbooks), London,
1884, pp. 119, 120.

[463] Baedeker, “Russland,” Leipzig, 1888, p. 317.

[464] One of the authors has in his possession twenty manuscript volumes of
these inventories. They are careful copies from the originals, most of
which are in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris. These copies were
executed for M. E. Molinier, a conservator of the Louvre Museum, and
were disposed of after his death in 1906. The values in the money of
the times are usually given, and we have endeavored where possible to
indicate the equivalent in United States currency, taking account of
the progressive changes in the French monetary standard.

[465] “Inventaire des Joyaux de Louis Duc d’Anjou,” In De Laborde’s “Emaux,”
Paris, 1853, Vol. II.

[466] Bibliothèque Nationale. MS. fr. 6542 (suppt. 4622) parchemin original,
13 pp. in folio.

[467] De Laborde, “Emaux,” Paris, 1853, Vol. II, p. 437.

[468] “Inventaire des Biens de Marguerite de Flandre,” Bibliothèque
Nationale coll., Moreau, 1725 (Mouchet 5).

[469] Bibl. Nat. MS. Latin. 9941 (suppt. 1656), folio, parchment, 40 leaves.

[470] Bibliothèque Nationale MS. fr. 18766 (S. Germain fr. 910) 40 ff. Bound
in green velvet.

[471] Bibl. Natl. MS. français, 4611, folio, pp. 433 in parchment.

[472] “Inventaires des Ducs de Bourgogne,” De Laborde, “Emaux,” Vol. II, p.
438.

[473] See De Laborde. “Emaux,” Paris, 1853, Vol. II, p. 437.

[474] “Jahrbuch der kunsthistorischen Sammlungen des allerhöchsten
Kaiserhauses,” Vienna, 1895, Vol. XIV, Pt. II, p. 52. “Inventories of
Philip II” (1598–1607).

[475] _Ibid._, Vol. XIX, Pt. II, p. 170.

[476] From _eptli_—shell, and _yollott_—heart, _i.e._, life.

[477] “Heraldic. Curios.,” Pars III, c. 8, p. 12.

[478] Debrett, “Dictionary of the Coronation,” p. 127.

[479] “Illustrated London News,” April 13, 1878, p. 347.

[480] Pliny, “Naturall Historie,” London, 1601, _Lib._ IX, c. 35.

[481] Budé, “De Asse,” Paris, 1514.

[482] Pliny, “Historia Naturalis,” _Lib._ IX, c. 35.

[483] “Historia,” _Lib._ I, c. 4, ed. Niebuhr, Bonnae, 1833.

[484] Panciroli, “Rerum Memorabilium, libri duo,” Frankfort. 1660, Pt. I, p.
44. We have been unable to find this statement in the Annals of
Zonaras; it was possibly derived from some gloss or annotation.

[485] Published by Lambeccius in “Bibliotheca Cæsarea,” Vol. II, p. 516.

[486] See p. 254 for Garcilasso’s description.

[487] Garcilasso, “Historie des Incas, Rois du Pérou,” Amsterdam, 1704, Vol.
II, p. 352.

[488] _Ibid._, p. 351.

[489] Miscel. Academ. Nat. Curios, Dec. 1, Ann. II, obs. 288.

[490] “Hawkins’ Voyages,” Hakluyt Society, 1878, p. 315 note.

[491] See Robertson, “Inventaires de la Royne d’Ecosse,” Bannatyne Club,
1863.

[492] See Lang, “Portraits and Jewels of Mary Stuart,” Edinburgh, 1906.

[493] Teulet, “Relations politiques de la France et de l’Espagne avec
l’Ecosse,” Vol. II, p. 352.

[494] Teulet, “Relations,” etc., p. 364.

[495] Walpole, “Anecdotes of Painting in England,” London, 1849, Vol. I, p.
151.

[496] An interesting account of this collection was given in a little book,
now quite rare, published in London in 1793 by John Roberts, entitled
“A View of the Waxen Figures in Henry VII’s Chapel.”

[497] Bolton, “Curious Relics of English Funerals,” Boston, 1894, p. 233.

[498] Lawson, “History of Banking,” London, 1750, pp. 24, 25.

[499] Burgon, “The Life and Times of Sir Thomas Gresham,” London, 1839, Vol.
I, p. 69.

[500] See p. 451.

[501] London, 1631, p. 1297.

[502] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” London, 1889, Vol. II, p. 130.

[503] Tavernier used the Florentine carat, which equaled 3.04 grains troy.

[504] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” London, 1889, Vol. II, p. 110.

[505] One _rati_ equaled seven eighths of the Florentine carat, or 2.66
grains troy.

[506] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” London, 1889, Vol. I, pp. 397–399.

[507] Sir Henry Miers Elliot, “The Mohammedan Period as described by Its Own
Historians,” Vol. V. of “The History of India,” ed. by A. V. W.
Jackson, New York, 1907, p. 324.

[508] See Fig. 2 of Tavernier’s diagram.

[509] Tavernier, “Travels in India,” trans. by V. Ball, London, 1889, Vol.
II, p. 384.

[510] Benjamin, “Persia,” p. 73.

[511] Brydges, “An Account of the Transactions of His Majesty’s Mission to
the Court of Persia, in the Years 1807–1811,” London, 1834, p. 383.

[512] Porter, “Travels in Georgia, Armenia, Ancient Babylon,” etc., London,
1821, Vol. I, p. 325.

[513] Robert de Berquen, “Les Merveilles des Indes Orientales et
Occidentales,” Paris, 1661, p. 78 b.

[514] Bibl. Nat. MS. “Mélanges de Colbert,” Tome 218, p. 14.

[515] De Waldheim, “Essai sur la Pellegrina,” p. 48.

[516] See p. 452.

[517] Hertz, “Catalogue of the Collection of Pearls and Precious Stones
Formed by Henry Philip Hope, Esq.,” London, 1839.

[518] “Gems and Precious Stones of North America,” New York, 1892, Pl. VIII,
p. 229.

[519] Streeter, “Pearls and Pearling Life,” London, 1886, pp. 295, 296.

[520] Taunton, “Australind,” London, 1900, p. 231.

[521] Austrian Court Journal, 1899.

[522] See p. 461.

[523] The senior author was permitted to handle these treasures in 1899.

[524] Winckler, “Die Reichskleinodien,” Berlin, 1872, p. 17.

[525] _Ibid._, p. 9.

[526] As this pearl was brought from the East later on, it may be the same
as the Reine des Perles, stolen from the French crown jewels in 1791.
It is evidently the same as the La Pellegrina of the Zozima brothers
(1814) and later stolen from them, reappearing as the pearl described
by Kohl, in 1840, first in the possession of a Russian merchant and
then later in the Russian Treasury.

[527] “American Anthropologist,” Lancaster, Pa., Vol. IX, No. 1, Jan.–March,
1907, pp. 57–86.

[528] “True Travels,” Richmond edition, 1819, p. 144.

[529] Strachey, “Historie of Travaile into Virginia Britannia,” Hakluyt
Society, London, 1849, p. 65.

[530] Smith, _op. cit._, p. 130.

[531] Strachey, _op. cit._, p. 57.

[532] Smith, _op. cit._, p. 83.

[533] Strachey, _op. cit._, p. 67. “The ‘blue’ or ‘violet-colored’ pearls
shown in White’s original drawings are probably stained pearls.” These
were most probably the dark purple pearls of the round clam or quohog
of the coast, although it is possible that they were only glass beads.

[534] Smith, _op. cit._, Pt. II, p. 19.

[535] Thomas Hariot, “A Brief and True Report of the New Found Land of
Virginia,” Holbein edition, p. 11.

[536] Willoughby, “American Anthropologist,” Lancaster, Pa., Vol. IX, No. 1,
January, 1907, pp. 61, 62.

[537] Beverley, “History of Virginia,” 1722, pp. 167, 186.

[538] Strachey, _op. cit._, p. 89.

[539] Smith, _op. cit._, p. 143.

[540] Squier and Davis, Smithsonian “Contributions to Knowledge,” Vol. I,
1848, p. 283.

[541] “Science,” April 6, 1906, Vol. XXIII, No. 588.

[542] “History of Alabama,” Charlestown, 1851, Vol. I, p. 12.

[543] “Moundville Revisited,” Reprint from the Journal of the Academy of
Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, Philadelphia, 1907, Vol. XIII, pp.
398–403.

[544] “Antiquities of the Southern Indians,” New York, 1873, p. 483; also,
“Monumental Remains of Georgia,” Savannah, 1861, p. 14.

[545] “Ancient Aboriginal Trade in North America,” Report of the Smithsonian
Institution for 1872, p. 38 of the author’s reprint.

[546] See “Artificial Shell Deposits in the United States,” in the Report of
the Smithsonian Institution for 1866, p. 357.

[547] “Antiquities of Southern Indians,” p. 490.

[548] Transactions of the Philosophic Society for 1693.

[549] See p. 494.

[550] “Exploration of the Edwin Harness Mound,” Columbus, O., press of F. J.
Heer, 1907, p. 76.

[551] “Ancient Monuments of the Mississippi Valley,” Squier & Davis,
Washington, 1848, p. 232.

[552] “Explorations in Ohio,” from the Eighteenth Report of the Peabody
Museum, Cambridge, 1886, p. 462.

[553] Collection of Peabody Museum of Archæology, Cambridge, Mass.

[554] Now in the Field Museum of Natural History, Chicago, Ill.

[555] “American Archæologist,” May, 1897, to May, 1898.

[556] “Archæologia Americana,” 1820, p. 182.

[557] See p. 499.

[558] See p. 498.

[559] “La Salle and the Discovery of the Great West,” Parkman, p. 281.

[560] William C. Mills, “Explorations of the Edwin Harness Mound, Columbus,
O.”; press of Fred. J. Heer, 1907. “Ohio Archæological and Historical
Quarterly,” Vol. XVI, No. 2.

[561] Herrmann, “Mound-builders of the Mississippi Valley,” pp. 92, 93.

[562] A large number of these works are in the library of George F. Kunz.

The Curious Lore of Precious Stones

BEING A DESCRIPTION OF THEIR SENTIMENTS AND FOLK LORE, SUPERSTITIONS, SYMBOLISM, MYSTICISM, USE IN MEDICINE, PROTECTION, PREVENTION, RELIGION, AND DIVINATION. CRYSTAL GAZING, BIRTHSTONES, LUCKY STONES AND TALISMANS, ASTRAL, ZODIACAL, AND PLANETARY
George Frederick Kunz
A.M., PH.D., D.Sc.
WITH 86 ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR,DUBLETONE AND LINE
PHILADELPHIA & LONDON D. Lippincott Company 1913
COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
PUBLISHED NOVEMBER, 1913
PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS PHIILADELPHIA, U. S. A.


WITH HEARTFELT APPRECIATION OF THE NOBLE SPIRIT THAT CONCEIVED
AND FOUNDED THE MORGAN-TIFFANY COLLECTION OF GEMS
AND THE MORGAN-BEMENT COLLECTIONS OF MINERALS AND METEORITES
OF THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY, AND THE
MORGAN COLLECTION OF THE MUSÉE D’HISTOIRE NATURELLE OF
PARIS, AND WHOSE KINDLY ADVICE AND ENCOURAGEMENT HAVE
DONE SO MUCH FOR THE PRECIOUS STONE ART, THIS VOLUME
IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE
J. PIERPONT MORGAN

Preface

The love of precious stones is deeply implanted in the human heart,
and the cause of this must be sought not only in their coloring and
brilliancy but also in their durability. All the fair colors of flowers
and foliage, and even the blue of the sky and the glory of the sunset
clouds, only last for a short time, and are subject to continual
change, but the sheen and coloration of precious stones are the same
to-day as they were thousands of years ago and will be for thousands of
years to come. In a world of change, this permanence has a charm of its
own that was early appreciated.

The object of this book is to indicate and illustrate the various ways
in which precious stones have been used at different times and among
different peoples, and more especially to explain some of the curious
ideas and fancies that have gathered around them. Many of these ideas
may seem strange enough to us now, and yet when we analyze them we
find that they have their roots either in some intrinsic quality of
the stones or else in an instinctive appreciation of their symbolical
significance. Through manifold transformations this symbolism has
persisted to the present day.

The same thing may be said in regard to the various superstitions
connected with gems. Our scientific knowledge of cause and effect may
prevent us from accepting any of the fanciful notions of the physicians
and astrologers of the olden time; nevertheless, the possession of
a necklace or a ring adorned with brilliant diamonds, fair pearls,
warm, glowing rubies, or celestial-hued sapphires will to-day make a
woman’s heart beat faster and bring a blush of pleasure to her cheek.
Life will seem better worth living to her; and, indeed, this is no
delusion, for life is what our thought makes it, and joy is born of
gratified desire. Hence nothing that contributes to increasing the sum
of innocent pleasures should be disdained; and surely no pleasure can
be more innocent and justifiable than that inspired by the possession
of beautiful natural objects.

The author, who possesses what is believed to be the most comprehensive
private library on this subject, has obtained many references from
material which he has been gathering during the past twenty-five years.
Many of the types exist in the collection of folk-lore precious stones
exhibited at the World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893, and now in the
Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago. Other types are drawn from
the Morgan Collection exhibited at the Paris Expositions of 1889 and
1900, which, with additions, is now in Morgan Hall, in the American
Museum of Natural History, New York City.

Other prominent references are the collection of precious stones in
the California Midwinter Memorial Museum, in Golden Gate Park, San
Francisco; the Tiffany collection of precious stones, exhibited at the
Atlanta Exposition of 1894, now in the National Museum in Washington;
the collection exhibited at the Pan-American Exposition, and presented
to the Musée d’Histoire Naturelle, in Paris, by the late J. Pierpont
Morgan; the collection exhibited at the exposition held in Portland,
Oregon, in 1905; and the collection of gems and precious stones
exhibited at the Jamestown Exposition, 1907. All of these collections,
either entirely or very largely, have been formed by the author.

Some references to sentiment connected with precious stones are
embodied in the little work, now in its 21st edition, entitled: “Natal
Stones, Sentiments and Superstitions Associated with Precious Stones,”
compiled by the writer, who has examined nearly all the principal
collections in the United States, Europe, Mexico, Canada, and Asiatic
Russia.

For courtesies, information and illustrations, I am indebted to the
following, to whom my thanks are due:

Prof. Taw Sein Ko, Superintendent of the Archæological Survey, of
Burma; Dr. T. Wada, of Tokyo, Japan; Dr. G. O. Clerc, President of the
Société Ouralienne des Amis des Sciences Naturelles, Ekaterinebourg,
Russia; Dr. Charles Braddock, late Medical Inspector to the King
of Siam; Sir Charles Hercules Reed, Curator of Archæology, and Dr.
Ernest A. Wallis Budge, Egyptologist, British Museum, London; A.
W. Feavearyear, Esq., London; Dr. Salomon Reinach, Director of the
Archaælogical Museum of St. Germain-en-Laye, France; Prof. Giuseppe
Belucci, of the University of Perugia; Dr. Peter Jessen, Librarian
of the Kunstgewerbe Museum, of Berlin; Miss Belle DaCosta Green; Dr.
Frederick Hirth, Chinese Professor, Columbia University, New York; Dr.
Clark Wissler, Curator of Archæology, Dr. L. P. Gratacap, Curator of
Mineralogy, American Museum of Natural History; Dr. Berthold Laufer,
Oriental Archæologist, and Dr. Oliver C. Farrington, Curator of Geology
and Mineralogy, Field Museum of Natural History, Chicago; Hereward
Carrington, Esq., Psychist, New York; Dr. W. Hayes Ward, Archæologist
and Babylonian Scholar; Mrs. Henry Draper, New York; H. W. Kent, Esq.,
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City; Consul General Moser,
Colombo, Ceylon; W. W. Blake, Mexico City, who has done so much to
encourage Mexican archæological investigation; the late A. Damour, of
Paris, the great pioneer of mineralogical archæology; the late Dr. A.
B. Meyer, of Dresden, who, more than anyone else, proved that the
_Nephritfrage_ or the jade question was to be solved by chemical and
mineralogical investigation; the late Rajah Sir Sourindro Mohun Tagore,
of Calcutta; and Dr. A. M. Lythgoe, Egyptologist, Metropolitan Museum
of Art.

G. F. K.
SEPTEMBER, 1913.

 

The Curious Lore of Precious Stones


I

Superstitions and Their Sources


From the earliest times in man’s history gems and precious stones have
been held in great esteem. They have been found in the monuments of
prehistoric peoples, and not alone the civilization of the Pharaohs, of
the Incas, or of the Montezumas invested these brilliant things from
Nature’s jewel casket with a significance beyond the mere suggestion of
their intrinsic properties.

The magi, the wise men, the seers, the astrologers of the ages gone
by found much in the matter of gems that we have nearly come to
forgetting. With them each gem possessed certain planetary attractions
peculiar to itself, certain affinities with the various virtues, and
a zodiacal concordance with the seasons of the year. Moreover, these
early sages were firm believers in the influence of gems in one’s
nativity,—that the evil in the world could be kept from contaminating
a child properly protected by wearing the appropriate talismanic,
natal, and zodiacal gems. Indeed, folklorists are wont to wonder
whether the custom of wearing gems in jewelry did not originate in the
talismanic idea instead of in the idea of mere additional adornment.

The influence exerted by precious stones was assumed in medieval times
without question, but when the spirit of investigation was aroused in
the Renaissance period, an effort was made to find a reason of some
sort for the traditional beliefs. Strange as it may seem to us, there
was little disposition to doubt that the influence existed; this was
taken for granted, and all the mental effort expended was devoted to
finding some plausible explanation as to how precious stones became
endowed with their strange and mystic virtues, and how these virtues
acted in modifying the character, health, or fortunes of the wearer.

When the existence of miracles is acknowledged, there will always be
a tendency to regard every singular and unaccountable happening as a
miracle; that is to say, as something that occurs outside of, or in
spite of, the laws of nature. We even observe this tendency at work in
our own time. As regards visual impressions, for instance, if a child
of lively imagination enters a half-lighted room and sees a bundle of
clothes lying in a corner, the indistinct outline of this mass may be
transformed to his mind into the form of a wild animal. The child does
not really see an animal, but his fear has given a definite outline and
character to the indefinite image printed on the retina.

The writer has always sought to investigate anything strange and
apparently unaccountable which has been brought to his notice, but he
can truly say he has never found the slightest evidence of anything
transcending the acknowledged laws of nature. Still, when we consider
the marvellous secrets that have been revealed to us by science and
the yet more wonderful things that will be revealed to us in the
future, we are tempted to think that there may be something in the old
beliefs, some residuum of fact, susceptible indeed of explanation, but
very different from what a crass scepticism supposes it to be. Above
all, the results of the investigations now pursued in relation to the
group of phenomena embraced under the designation of telepathy,—the
subconscious influence of one mind over an absent or distant mind,—and
the wireless transmission of power in wireless telegraphy and
telephony, may go far to make us hesitate before condemning as utterly
preposterous many of the tales of enchantment and magical influence.
If the unconscious will of one individual can affect the thoughts and
feelings of another individual at a great distance and without the
intervention of any known means of communication, as is confidently
asserted by many competent investigators in the domain of telepathy,
their claims being supported by many strange happenings, perhaps the
result of coincidence, but possibly due to the operation of some
unknown law, does this not give a color of verity to the statements
regarding the ancient magicians and their spells?

Auto-suggestion may also afford an explanation of much that is
mysterious in the effects attributed to precious stones, for if the
wearer be firmly convinced that the gem he is wearing produces certain
results, this conviction will impress itself upon his thought and hence
upon his very organism. He will really experience the influence, and
the effects will manifest themselves just as powerfully as though they
were caused by vibrations or emanations from the material body of the
stone.

All this may serve to explain the persistence of the belief in magic
arts. A few hundred years ago, a Hungarian woman was accused of
having murdered two or three hundred young girls, and at her trial
she confessed that her object was to use the blood of her victims to
renew her youth and beauty, for the blood of innocent virgins was
supposed to have wonderful properties. In some parts of England today
there is a superstitious belief that an article of clothing worn by a
person, or anything he has habitually used, absorbs a portion of his
individuality. Therefore, it sometimes happens that a handkerchief,
for instance, will be stolen and pinned down beneath the waters of a
stream on a toad, the pins marking the name of the enemy, the belief
being that as this cloth wastes away, so will the body of him who had
worn it. In medieval and later times this was the common practice of
the sorcerers, although they frequently composed a wax figure rudely
resembling the person against whom the spell was directed, and then
thrust pins into this figure or allowed it to melt away before a slow
fire. The enchantment of the sorcerer was supposed to have caused some
essence of the personality to enter into the image, and therefore the
living and breathing being felt sympathetically the effects of the
ill-treatment inflicted upon its counterfeit.

The persistence of the most cruel and unnatural practices of old-time
sorcery is illustrated by the fact that only a few years ago, in the
island of Cuba, three women were condemned to death for murdering a
white baby so as to use the heart and blood as a cure for diseases.
Four other women were sentenced to from fourteen to twenty years’
imprisonment as accomplices. When such things happen in Cuba, it
is not surprising that in half-civilized Hayti similar crimes are
committed. Here the Voodoo priests and priestesses, _papalois_ and
_mamalois_ (papa-kings and mama-queens) require from time to time a
human sacrifice to appease their serpent-god. One strange case is
related where a stupefying potion, inducing a state of apparent death,
was secretly administered to a sick man. When the attending physician
pronounced him dead, he was duly interred; but, two days after,
the grave was found open and the body had disappeared. The Voodoo
worshippers had carried the man away so as to revive him and then
sacrifice him at their fearful rites.

In a poem addressed to Marguerite de Valois,—“La Marguerite des
Marguerites,” as she was called,—by Jean de la Taille de Bondaroy,[1]
we read of the diamond that it came from gold and from the sun. But we
are told that not only are precious stones endowed with life, they also
are subject to disease, old age, and death; “they even take offence if
an injury be done to them, and become rough and pale.” The sickness of
the pearl has been a theme for centuries, and in many cases is only
fancied. It is but a subterfuge or deception for a lady to remark that
her pearls have sickened; by referring to this sickness, her friends
are naturally led to believe that at one time her pearls were fine,
perfect ones, when in reality they may never have been so.

The opinion given in 1609, by Anselmus De Boot, court physician to
Rudolph II of Germany, regarding the power inherent in certain precious
stones,[2] embodies the ideas on this subject held by many of the
enlightened minds of that period.

The supernatural and acting cause is God, the good angel and the evil
one; the good by the will of God, and the evil by His permission….
What God can do by Himself, He could do also by means of ministers,
good and bad angels, who, by special grace of God and for the
preservation of men, are enabled to enter precious stones and to guard
men from dangers or procure some special grace for them. However, as
we may not affirm anything positive touching the presence of angels
in gems, to repose trust in them, or to ascribe undue powers to them,
is more especially pleasing to the spirit of evil, who transforms
himself into an angel of light, steals into the substance of the
little gem, and works such wonders by it that some people do not place
their trust in God but in a gem, and seek to obtain from it what they
should ask of God alone. Thus it is perhaps the spirit of evil which
exercises its power on us through the turquoise, teaching us, little
by little, that safety is not to be sought from God but from a gem.

In the next chapter of his work, De Boot, while extolling the remedial
power of a certain group of stones, insists upon the falsity of many of
the superstitions regarding these objects.[3]

That gems or stones, when applied to the body, exert an action upon
it, is so well proven by the experience of many persons, that any one
who doubts this must be called over-bold. We have proof of this power
in the carnelian, the hematite, and the jasper, all of which when
applied, check hemorrhage…. However, it is very necessary to observe
that many virtues not possessed by gems are falsely ascribed to them.

Paracelsus, the gifted and brilliant thinker, scientist, and, we
must probably add, charlatan of the sixteenth century, whose really
extraordinary mental endowment was largely wasted in the effort to
impress his followers with the idea that he had a mystic control over
supernatural agencies, was the owner of a talismanic jewel which he
asserted to be the dwelling-place of a powerful spirit named “Azoth.”
Some old portraits of the philosopher, or pseudo-philosopher, figure
him wearing this jewel, in whose virtues we may fairly doubt that he
himself believed, but which furnished part of the paraphernalia be
freely employed to gain influence over the credulous.[4]

The following passage from the “Faithful Lapidary” of Thomas Nicols,[5]
who wrote in the middle of the seventeenth century, illustrates the
prevailing opinion in England at that time as to the virtues of
precious stones:

_Perfectionem effectûs contineri in causa._ But it cannot truly be
so spoken of gemms and precious stones, the effects of which, by
Lapidists are said to be, the making of men rich and eloquent, to
preserve men from thunder and lightning, from plagues and diseases, to
move dreams, to procure sleep, to foretell things to come, to make men
wise, to strengthen memory, to procure honours, to hinder fascinations
and witchcrafts, to hinder slothfulness, to put courage into men, to
keep men chaste, to increase friendship, to hinder difference and
dissention, and to make men invisible, as is feigned by the Poet
concerning Gyges ring, and affirmed by Albertus and others concerning
the _ophthalmius lapis_, and many other strange things are affirmed
of them and ascribed to them, which are contrary to the nature of
gemms, and which they as they are materiall, mixt, inanimate bodies
neither know nor can effect, by the properties and faculties of their
own constitutions: because they being naturall causes, can produce
none other but naturall effects, such as are all the ordinary effects
of gemms: that is, such effects as flow from their elementary matter,
from their temper, form and essence; such as are the operations of
hot and cold, and of all the first qualities, and all such accidents
as do arise from the commixtion of the first qualities: such as are
hardnesse, heavinesse, thicknesse, colour, and tast. These all are the
naturall faculties of gemms, and these are the known effects of the
union of their matter, and of the operation of the first qualities one
upon another.

The long-continued concentration of vision on an object tends to
produce a partial paralysis of certain functions of the brain. This
effect may be noted in the helplessness of a bird when its gaze is
fixed upon the glittering eyes of a serpent, or in the unwilling
obedience yielded by a lion or some other wild animal when forced to
look into the intent eyes of its trainer. In the same way those who
gaze for a long time and without interruption on a crystal or glass
ball, on an opal, a moonstone, a sapphire, or a cat’s-eye, may become
partially hypnotized or even fall into a profound sleep. The condition
induced, whether it be that of semi-trance, of hypnotism, or simply
due to the imaginative workings of the brain, is believed to give an
insight into the future. This hypnotic effect is probably caused by
some gleam or point of light in the stone, attracting and fixing the
beholder’s gaze. The moonstone, the star sapphire, and the cat’s-eye
are all gems which possess a moving light, a moving line, or three
crossed lines, and they are believed by the Orientals to be gems of
good luck. Indeed, it is supposed in the East that a living spirit
dwells within these stones, a spirit potent for good.

Superstitious fancies bear the same relation to truth that the shadow
of a form does to the form itself. We know that the shadow has no
substantial existence, and yet we know equally well that it is cast by
some real body; in the same way we may be sure that, however foolish
a superstition may appear to be, it has some foundation in fact.
Indeed, superstition is associated with the highest attribute of the
human mind,—imagination. The realities about us gain much of their
charm from sentiment, and all that is great in art and literature
owes its being to the transforming energy of pure imagination. Morbid
imagination, on the other hand, distorts and degrades the impressions
it receives and produces only unlovely or ignoble forms and ideas.

Sentiment may best be expressed as the feeling of one who, on a
warm summer’s day, is rowing along a shady brook or resting in some
sylvan dell, with nothing to interfere with his tranquil mood and
nothing to spur him on to action; thus he has only suggestions of
hope and indulges in rosy views of life. Reality, on the other hand,
may be likened to a crisp winter’s morning when one is filled with
exhilaration, conscious of the tingle of the cold, but comfortable in
the knowledge of wearing a tightly-buttoned garment which will afford
protection should the elements become disturbing. Superstition, lastly,
can be said to resemble a dark, cold, misty night, when the moon is
throwing malevolent shadows which are weird and distorted, while the
cold seems to seize one by the throat and arouse a passionate desire
to free one’s self from its grip in some way, to change a horrible
nightmare into a pleasant dream.

In the early part of the last century a series of very interesting
experiments designed to demonstrate the effects produced upon a
sensitive subject by the touch of precious stones and minerals, were
made in the case of the “Seeress of Prevorst,” Frederike Hauffe (b.
1801), a woman believed to possess remarkable clairvoyant powers.[6]
When pieces of granite, porphyry, or flint were placed in her hand,
she was not affected in any way. The finest qualities of fluorspar,
on the other hand, had a marked action, relaxing the muscles, causing
diarrhœa, and producing a sour taste in the mouth; occasionally a
somnambulistic state was induced. This latter condition was also
produced by Iceland spar and by the sapphire. While the substances so
far noted depressed the vital energy, sulphate of barium stimulated the
muscles, produced an agreeable warmth of the body, and made the subject
feel as though she could fly through the air. If the application of
this material was long continued, the pleasurable sensation found
expression in laughter. In the case of witherite, a carbonate of
barium, this effect was produced to an even greater degree, for if
water in which this mineral had been dipped were swallowed, spasms of
laughter resulted.

Rock-crystal also was found to possess a strongly stimulating
influence, for if put in the hand, it aroused the subject from a
half-slumber, and if placed on the pit of the stomach, it had the
power to awaken the seeress from a somnambulistic trance, while at
the same time an aromatic odor was diffused around. When, however,
the application was continued for some time, the muscles stiffened,
until finally an epileptic state ensued. Indeed, the rigidity produced
was so great that the limbs resisted all attempts to bend them. The
same effect, but in a much less degree, was caused by glass, even by
looking at it, or by the tones emitted by a glass object when struck.
All colorless silicates, the diamond, and even gypsum, had a similar
effect, as did also heliotrope and basalt, either of which caused a
bitter taste in the mouth.

The most powerful action was that exerted by hematite, the oxide
of iron in this substance inducing a kind of paralysis, with a
sensation of inner chill; this condition could only be relieved by
the application of a piece of witherite. Octahedrons of magnetite
(loadstone) caused a sensation of heaviness and convulsive movements
of the limbs, even when the material, wrapped up in paper, was brought
near the subject. Spinel, in whose composition oxide of chromium
enters, caused the same symptoms as loadstone, except that in this
case the force seemed to exert itself from the hand upward along the
arm, while with the loadstone the action was downward along the arm
to the hand, owing to the attractive quality of this magnetic iron.
Ruby called forth a sensation of coldness in the tongue, and rendered
this member so heavy that only incoherent sounds could be emitted;
the fingers and toes also became cold, and the body was agitated by
a violent shivering; but to all these bad symptoms succeeded a sense
of elasticity and well-being, not, however, without a vague fear that
the stone might cause a renewal of the physical depression. When
chrysoprase was used, chills and shivering resulted, beginning at the
breast and spreading thence over the whole body.

We have touched upon the hypnotic influence exercised by gems, but
there can be no doubt that the subject has not been as carefully
studied as it deserves to be. That the hypnotic state can be induced
by gazing fixedly upon a bright object held just above the eyes is a
well-known fact, but quite probably a similar though not so pronounced
effect results from gazing on a bright object just before the gazer’s
eyes. In the case of colored precious stones, the effects of the
various color-rays combine with the light effects and strengthen
the impression upon the optic nerve. All this, however, concerns
only the purely physical impression, but we know that very often the
hypnotic state is produced by a mental impression, by the belief,
or the fear, that the state will supervene. With precious stones as
hypnotizing agents, the mental impression is widely different, for
here the physical impression is heightened by the consciousness of the
value and rarity of the material. The fascination that a fine set of
jewels, with all their sparkle and color, exercises upon the mind of a
woman who sees them in their glorious radiance on the neck, the arms,
and the head of another woman, is not only due to the beauty of the
spectacle, but is largely owing to the consciousness that they are rare
and valuable objects and are perhaps eloquent witnesses of the power
of love. A dash of envy sometimes serves to render the emotion more
complex.

The names of precious stones and semi-precious stones are frequently
used as adjectives, and when so employed convey something more to the
mind than do the corresponding adjectives of color. We may instance
the following expressions: the “Emerald Isle” and “emerald meadows”;
“sapphire seas” and “sapphire eyes”; “ruby wine,” “ruby lips,” and,
in Shakespeare, “the natural ruby of your cheeks”; “coral lips” and
“coral ears”; “pearly teeth” and “pearly skin”; “turquoise skies”;
“amethystine locks” and, in Roman times, “amber hair.” In all these
cases the name of the precious mineral is really used as a superlative
of the adjective, suggesting the choicest variety of the color or
shade. The phrases “hard as adamant” and “clear as crystal” show a
similar use of the name of a precious or ornamental stone to express
the highest grade of a given quality.

Before the introduction of the “point” system in typography three of
the grades of type bore the names of precious stones,—namely, “diamond
type,” “agate type,” and “emerald type”; this latter designation is
employed only in England, where “agate type” is called “ruby type.”
Another size was denominated “pearl type.”

A fanciful tale written not long ago treats of the practical
inconveniences which would result, could such metaphorical expressions
find a realization in fact.[7] At the birth-feast of a certain
princess, one of the fairies was not invited; she, nevertheless, made
her appearance. After the other fairies had endowed the child with many
good qualities, the neglected fairy said, “I will give her vanity,
and her vanity shall change her beauty to the things it is said to
resemble.” However, a friendly fairy came to the rescue, saying, “I
will give her unselfishness, and by it she shall turn her beauty back
to what she wishes it to be.”

The result can easily be imagined. As the little princess grew up,
those who wished to flatter her vanity spoke of her “teeth of pearl,”
of her “golden hair,” of her “coral lips,” and of her “sapphire eyes.”
Upon this her teeth changed to pearls, her hair to spun gold, her
lips to coral, and her eyes to two magnificent sapphires. However,
beautiful as these were, they did not grant the power of sight, so that
the unhappy princess became blind. Not long after this a revolution
deprived the king and queen of their throne and they were reduced to
great poverty. In these straits the daughter sacrificed her “gold-hair”
to relieve their wants, and immediately the spell was dissolved and she
regained all her natural beauty.

Shelley, who saw the world illumined by the rainbow hues of poetic
fancy, wrote of “diamond eyes,” “an emerald sky,” “the emerald heaven
of trees,” “the sapphire ocean,” “sapphire-tinted skies,” “the sapphire
floods of interstellar air,” and “the chrysolite of sunrise.” For some
reason, he does not use the ruby, a favorite stone with many poets, and
psychologists might find in this a proof that red appeals less strongly
to the idealist than do the other colors.

The principal literary sources for the talismanic and therapeutic
virtues attributed to ornamental stones may be divided into several
groups, at first more or less independent of each other, but combined
to a greater or lesser extent by later writers. Pliny gives, sometimes
rather grudgingly, a number of superstitions current in his time, but
the Alexandrian literature of the second, third, and fourth Christian
centuries provides a much richer field for these superstitions, as
shown in the Orphic poem “Lithica,” the “Cyrianides,” attributed to
Hermes Trismegistus, the little treatise “On Rivers,” which bore the
name of Plutarch, and last, but not least, in the work by Damigeron,
which purported to be written by an Arab king named Evax, and sent
by him to Tiberius or Nero. The influence exerted by the legends
surrounding the stones of the high priest’s breastplate, and those
chosen as foundation stones for the New Jerusalem, will be treated of
elsewhere.

In the seventh, eighth, and ninth centuries, a new literature on this
subject made its appearance, probably in Asia Minor. Some of the works
were originally written in Syriac and later translated into Arabic.
Others were composed in the latter language. This source was drawn
upon for the production of the Lapidarium of Alfonso X, of Castile.
This compilation, although dating in its present Spanish form from the
thirteenth century, is based upon a much older original in “Chaldee”
(Syriac?). There can be little doubt that many Hindu superstitions,
no longer preserved for us in the literature of India, are reproduced
in these Syrio-Arabic works, wherein we have also much that is of
Alexandrian origin. This indeed is easily explained by history, for the
Arabs, through their widely extended conquests, were led to absorb and
amalgamate the data they secured, directly or indirectly, from the East
and the West.

While this literature was developing in the Mohammedan world, the
tradition of Pliny and Solinus was transmitted to the Christian world
of the seventh and succeeding centuries by Isidorus of Seville. This
brings us to the remarkable poetical treatise on the virtues of
precious stones by Marbodus, Bishop of Rennes, a work written at
the end of the eleventh century, and often quoted as that of Evax;
indeed, it purports to be by him and really contains a good part of the
material composing the treatise of Damigeron or Evax. At the same time
Marbodus drew freely upon Pliny, either directly or through Isidorus.
For the Middle Ages this poem of Marbodus, already translated into Old
French in the twelfth century, became known as the “Lapidario” _par
excellence_, and furnished a great part of their material to medieval
authors on this subject. Soon, however, extracts from the Arabic
sources became available, and the whole mass of heterogeneous material
was worked over and recombined in a variety of ways.

This complex origin of the traditions explains their almost
incomprehensible contradictions regarding the virtues assigned to
the different stones, and also the fact that the qualities of one
stone are frequently attributed to another one, so that, in the
later works on this subject, it becomes quite impossible to present
a satisfactory view of the distinguishing qualities and virtues of
the separate stones. The habit of copying, without discrimination or
criticism, whatever came to hand, and the aim to utilize as much of
the borrowed material as possible, is scarcely less a characteristic
of the seventeenth and eighteenth century writers than it is of those
of a later date. This is in part an excusable and even an unavoidable
defect, but it should be minimized as much as possible.

The treatise known under the title “Cyrianides” was, as we have noted,
a product of the Alexandrian school. It was asserted to be the work
of Hermes Trismegistus, the name given by the Greeks to the Egyptian
god Thoth. Here we have a specimen of the species of magic known as
litteromancy, or divination by means of the letters of the alphabet,
since a stone, a bird, a plant, and a fish, each beginning with the
same letter and signifying the four elements, are given for each of the
twenty-four letters of the Greek alphabet. These four objects were to
be grouped together to form a talisman, the bird being usually engraved
on the stone, while a portion of the fish and of the plant was placed
in the bezel of the ring in which the stone was to be set.[8] Another,
almost contemporary work, is the exceedingly curious and interesting
treatise by St. Epiphanius, Bishop of Constantia, on the twelve gems
on the “Breastplate of Judgment” of the high priest (Ex., xxviii,
15-21). This unique production is in the form of a letter addressed
to Diodorus, Bishop of Tyre, and it is peculiarly valuable as the
first of a long series of attempts to elucidate the question as to the
identity of the twelve stones. The special virtues of each stone are
also given, and this treatise may be regarded as the prototype of all
the Christian writings on the symbolism of stones.

A most interesting medieval treatise on the virtues of precious stones
forms part of the _De rerum natura_ of Thomas de Cantimpré (1201-1270),
who was a pupil of Albertus Magnus and composed his work between 1230
and 1244. The Latin text has never been printed, but the book was
translated into German by Konrad von Megenberg about 1350. Strange to
say, the translator did not know the name of the writer and supposed
when he began to translate the book that it was by Albertus Magnus. In
many cases Thomas de Cantimpré merely copies the statements of older
authors, but occasionally he gives us new material, or at least a new
version of his originals.

The renowned medieval philosopher and theologian, Albertus Magnus
(1193-1280), for a short time Bishop of Ratisbon, and who later taught
theology in the University of Paris and had the great St. Thomas
Aquinas for a pupil, was not altogether free from the superstitious
notions of his time, traces of which appear in certain of his
numerous writings. Many years after his death some of this material
was extracted from his works and, amplified by additions from other
sources, was published under the title “Secrets des vertus des Herbes,
Pierres et Bestes.” Of this there are two versions, one being an
epitome of the other and termed respectively “Le Grand Albert” and
“Le Petit Albert.” These little books were often reprinted and widely
circulated, and eventually enjoyed great popularity among the French
peasants. Indeed, even to the present day they may still be met with in
out-of-the-way parts of rural France.

Among literary deceptions one of the boldest was that practised in the
early part of the seventeenth century by Ludovico Dolce. This writer
made, in 1565, a literal translation into Italian of the “Speculum
lapidum” of Camillo Leonardo, printed in Venice in 1502, and he had the
courage to issue it as his own work, under the title “Trattato delle
gemme chè produce la natura.” In view of the general familiarity with
Latin among the better classes at that period, and the numerous fine
libraries existing in Venice at the time, it seems most extraordinary
that Dolce should have been successful in palming off this work as his
own, but even to-day citations are made from Dolce’s “Trattato delle
gemme” and from Leonardo’s “Speculum lapidum,” as though these were
distinct works.

II

On the Use of Precious and Semi-Precious Stones as Talismans and Amulets


The use of precious stones in early times as amulets and talismans
is shown in many ancient records, and several scholars have assumed
that the belief in the magic efficacy of stones gave rise to their use
as objects of personal adornment. It is, of course, very difficult
either to prove or to disprove such a theory, for, even in the case of
the oldest texts, we must bear in mind that they do not in the least
represent primitive conditions, and that many thousands of years must
have elapsed before a people could attain the grade of civilization
necessary for the production of even the simplest literature. For this
reason, certain investigators have preferred to seek for a solution of
this problem in the customs and habits of the so-called uncivilized
peoples of our own time; but we must not forget that conditions which
seem to us very rudimentary are, nevertheless, the result of a long
process of development. Even if this development was arrested many
centuries or millenniums ago, it must have required a very considerable
period of time to evolve such usages and conventions as are found even
among the lowest races. Indeed, many uncivilized peoples have very
complicated rules and observances, testifying to considerable thought
and reflection.

Fetichism in all its forms depends upon an imperfect conception of
what constitutes life and conscious being, so that will and thought
are attributed to inanimate objects. We can observe this in the case
of animals and very young children, who regard any moving object as
endowed with life. In the case of stones, however, it seems probable
that those supposed to be the abode of spirits, good or evil, were
selected because their natural form suggested that of some animal or
of some portion of the human body. On the other hand, the wearing of
what we call precious stones is more likely to have been due to the
attraction exercised by bright colors upon the eye of the beholder and
to the desire to display some distinguishing mark that would command
attention and admiration for the wearer. This tendency runs through the
higher animal kingdom, and its workings have served as a foundation for
the theory of natural selection.

It seems likely that we have here the true explanation of the motive
for the gathering, preserving, and wearing of precious stones. Since
these objects are motionless, they can scarcely have impressed the mind
of primitive man with the idea that they were alive; they were not
imposing by their mass, as were large stones, and their crystalline
form scarcely figured any known living shape. Hence their chief, we
may even say their only attraction was their color and brilliancy.
What effect these qualities had upon the visual sense of primitive
man may be safely inferred from the effect such objects produce upon
infants. The baby has no fear in regard to a small and brilliantly
colored object which is shown to it, but will eagerly put out its hand
to seize, hold, and gaze upon a bright-colored stone. As the object
is quite passive and easily handled, there is nothing to suggest any
lurking power to harm, and therefore there is nothing to interfere with
the pleasurable sensation aroused in the optic nerve by the play of
color. In this naïve admiration of what is brilliant and colored, the
infant undoubtedly represents for us the mental attitude of primitive
man.

Probably the first objects chosen for personal adornment were those
easily strung or bound together,—for instance, certain perforated
shells and brilliant seeds; the softer stones, wherein holes could be
easily bored by the help of the simplest tools, probably came next,
while the harder gems must have been hoarded as pretty toys long before
they could be adjusted for use as ornaments.

Unquestionably, when these objects had once been worn, there was
a disposition to attribute certain happenings to their influence
and power, and in this way there arose a belief in their efficacy,
and, finally, the conviction that they were the abodes of powerful
spirits. In this, as in many other things, man’s first and instinctive
appreciation was the truest, and it has required centuries of
enlightenment to bring us back to this love of precious stones for
their esthetic beauty alone. Indeed, even to-day, we can see the power
of superstitious belief in the case of the opal, which some timid
people still fear to wear, although until three or four centuries
ago this stone was thought to combine all the virtues of the various
colored gems, the hues of which are united in its sparkling light.

A proof that bright and colored objects were attractive in themselves,
and were first gathered up and preserved by primitive man for this
reason alone, may be found in the fact that certain birds, notable the
_Chlamydera_ of Australia, related to our ravens, after constructing
for themselves pretty arbors, strew the floors with variegated pebbles,
so arranged as to suggest a mosaic pavement. At the entrance of the
arbors are heaped up pieces of bone, shells, feathers, and stones,
which have often been brought from a considerable distance, this
giving evidence that the birds have not selected these objects at
random. It is strange that the attraction exercised upon the sense of
sight by anything brilliant and colored, which is at the same time
easily portable and can be handled or worn, should be overlooked by
those who are disposed to assert that all ornaments of this kind were
originally selected and preserved solely or principally because of
their supposed talismanic qualities.

The theory that colored and brilliant stones were first collected by
men because of their beauty rather than because of their talismanic
virtues, is corroborated by the statement made that seals select with
considerable care the stones they swallow, and observers on the fishing
grounds have noted this and believe that pebbles of chalcedony and
serpentine found there have been brought by the seals.[9]

The popular derivation of the word “amulet” from an Arabic word
_hamalât_, signifying something suspended or worn, is not accepted by
the best Arabic scholars, and it seems probable that the name is of
Latin origin, in spite of the fact that no very satisfactory etymology
can be given. Pliny’s use of _amuletum_ shows that with him the word
did not always denote an object that was worn on the person, although
this later became its meaning. The old etymology given by Varro (118-29
B.C.), who derived _amuletum_ from the verb _amoliri_, “to remove,”
“to drive away,” may not be quite in accord with modern philology,
but still has something to recommend it as far as the sense goes, for
the amulet was certainly believed to hold dangers aloof, or even to
remove them. Talisman, however, a word not used in classical times,
undoubtedly comes from the Arabic _tilsam_, this being in turn derived
from τέλεσμα, used in late Greek to signify an initiation, or an
incantation.

It has been remarked that in the earliest Stone Age there is no trace
of either idols or images; the art of this period being entirely
profane. In the later Stone Age, however, entirely different ideas
seem to have gained the ascendancy, for a majority of the objects of
plastic art so far discovered have a religious significance. This has
evidently proceeded from the conception that every image of a living
object absorbs something of the essence of the object itself, and this
conception, while a primitive one, still presupposes a certain degree
of development. This rule applies more especially to amulets, which
were therefore fashioned as beautifully as primitive art permitted,
that they might become fitting abodes for the benevolent spirits
believed to animate them and render them efficacious.[10]

A curious idol or talisman from Houaïlou, New Caledonia, is in the
collection of Signor Giglioli. This is a stone bearing naturally a
rude resemblance to the human form.[11] We can easily understand
that such an object was looked upon as the abode of some spirit, for
similar strange natural formations have been regarded with a species of
superstitious awe by peoples much more civilized than the natives of
New Caledonia.

For the Middle Ages and even down to the seventeenth century, the
talismanic virtues of precious stones were believed in by high and low,
by princes and peasants, by the learned as well as by the ignorant.
Here and there, however, a note of scepticism was sometimes apparent,
as in the famous reply of the court jester of Emperor Charles V, to the
question, “What is the property of the turquoise?” “Why,” replied he,
“if you should happen to fall from a high tower whilst you were wearing
a turquoise on your finger, the turquoise would remain unbroken.”

The doctrine of sympathy and antipathy found expression in the belief
that the very substance of certain stones was liable to modification
by the condition of health or even by the thoughts of the wearer. In
case of sickness or approaching death the lustre of the stones was
dimmed, or else their bright colors were darkened, and unfaithfulness
or perjury produced similar phenomena. Concerning the turquoise, the
prosaic explanation can be offered that this stone is affected to a
certain extent by the secretions of the skin; but popular superstition
saw the same phenomena in the ruby, the diamond, and other stones
not possessing the sensitiveness of the turquoise. Hence the true
explanation is to be found in the prevailing idea that an occult
sympathy existed between stone and wearer. The sentiment underlying the
conception is well expressed by Emerson in the following lines from
“The Amulet”:

Give me an amulet
That keeps intelligence with you,—
Red when you love, and rosier red,
And when you love not, pale and blue.

A Persian legend of the origin of diamonds and precious stones shows
that in the East these beautiful objects were looked upon as the source
of much sin and sorrow. We are told that when God created the world
he made no useless things, such as gold, silver, precious stones,
and diamonds; but Satan, who is always eager to bring evil among
men, kept a close watch to spy out the appetites and passions of the
human mind. To his great satisfaction he noted that Eve passionately
loved the many-colored flowers that decked the Garden of Eden; he
therefore undertook to imitate their brightness and color out of
earth, and in this way were produced colored precious stones and
diamonds. These in after time so strongly appealed to the greed and
covetousness of mankind that they have been the cause of much crime and
wretchedness.[12]

The present age could afford us nearly as many examples of faith in
talismans and amulets as any epoch in the past, if people were willing
to confess their real beliefs. However, they are half-ashamed of their
fondness for such objects, and fail to see that, back of all the
folly and superstition that may find expression in this way, there
is a deeper meaning in these talismans than we at first perceive. We
may be disposed to smile when we are told that many of the soldiers
in the Austro-Prussian War of 1866 carried amulets of some kind upon
their persons, and that the great Marshal Canrobert trusted to the
protection of an amulet in the Crimean campaign. Of course the Russian
army, during the Russo-Japanese War, was amply provided with amulets,
religious medals or pictures to which a special virtue had been given
by a priestly blessing.

In all these cases, however, it is not the object itself, but the idea
for which it stands and which it incorporates, that gives confidence
to the wearer, and in this sense the wearing of a talisman is no more
a proof of blind superstition than is the devotion to a flag, in
itself only a few square feet of silk or bunting, but, nevertheless,
the symbol of the noblest ideas and feelings, of patriotic devotion
to one’s native land and to one’s fellow-countrymen. The tendency
to give a substantial visible form to an abstract idea is so deeply
rooted in humanity that it must be looked upon as responding to a human
necessity. It is only very rarely that purely intellectual conceptions
can satisfy us; they must be given some external, palpable and visible
form to exert their greater influences.

Although it may bear a certain superficial likeness to fetichism, this
use of signs and symbols is something entirely and radically different,
for the idea is never lost sight of, it is only strengthened and
vivified by the contemplation of the symbol. Hence, while we know quite
well that the symbol is nothing in itself, we know just as well that it
has a real power in its relation to the idea it typifies, and we can
no more be indifferent to its injury or destruction than we could be
indifferent to the injury or destruction of a cherished memento of one
whom we have loved and lost.

What super-subtle sense is it that enables some women to endow their
gems with a certain individuality, and leads them to feel that these
cold, inanimate objects partake of human emotion? A French writer, Mme.
Catulle Mendès, gives expression to this when she says that she always
wears as many of her rings as possible, because her gems feel slighted
when she leaves them unworn. She continues:

I have a ruby which grows dull, two turquoises which become pale as
death, aquamarines which look like siren’s eyes filled with tears,
when I forget them too long. How sad I should feel if precious stones
did not love to rest upon me!

A very beautiful and curious object was found in the Australian
opal-fields in 1909. This is a reptilean skeleton resembling a small
serpent that has become opalized by natural processes. Perfect in all
its details, which are rendered more striking by the splendid play of
color, this specimen of Nature’s handiwork possesses a beauty and an
interest exceeding those to be found in any work of man. As an amulet
it certainly is _sui generis_, and in ancient times would have been
valued at an immense sum, for the figure of a serpent was a favorite
symbol of medical science; even to-day there is little doubt that this
strange object will be eagerly sought for by collectors, and will
appeal more especially to all who are interested in occult science, and
to all who appreciate the poetic and perhaps mystic significance of
form, sign, and symbol.

It is impossible to over-estimate the effect of color in determining
the supposed influence of gems upon the fortunes or health of the
wearers. When we gaze upon the beautiful play of light emitted by a
fine ruby or sapphire, we are all conscious of the æsthetic effect
produced; but in earlier times, when scientific ideas were not yet
prevalent, many other considerations combined to give a peculiar
significance to these brilliant gems. Rare and costly as they were,
they were supposed to possess mystic and occult powers and were
thought to be the abode of spirits, sometimes benevolent and sometimes
malevolent, but always endowed with the power to influence human
destinies for weal or woe. Coupled with this was the instinctive
appreciation of the essential qualities of certain rays of light,
and modern science, far from doing away with these ideas, has rather
seemed to find a good reason for them. We all know the therapeutic
value of the ultra-violet rays, and when the uninstructed mind saw
therein the embodiment of purity and chastity, it perhaps realized
this health-giving and beneficent function. In the same way the idea
of passion was associated with the red and radiant ruby, another
concept the relative truth of which has been demonstrated by spectrum
analysis, since the red rays are heat-giving and vivifying. But this
was not the only source of these primitive ideas in regard to color;
the therapeutic effect was often sought and found in some fancied
analogy between the color of the gem and the character of the malady
or infirmity to be cured. Thus, yellow stones were supposed to be
especially efficacious in cases of jaundice, an instance of instinctive
homœopathy, based on the dictum _similia similibus curantur_. Following
out this train of thought, the red stones were endowed with the power
of checking the flow of blood; especially the so-called bloodstone was
prescribed for this use, and it was supposed that by its mere touch
it could stop the most violent hemorrhages. Green was regarded as the
color most beneficial for the sight, and to the emerald and other
green stones was ascribed great curative power in this respect. Here,
however, the simple influence of the color was later combined with its
symbolical significance. In heathen mythology this showed itself in the
ascription of the emerald to Venus, as the exponent of the reproductive
energies of nature, while in the Christian conception these stones
became typical of the resurrection, of the birth into a new and purer
life. Nowhere can we find a better illustration of the transforming
effect of distinct and diametrically opposite concepts upon the
impressions made by natural objects. The pure and colorless and yet
brilliant stones, such as the diamond and all other white stones, were
naturally brought into connection with the moon, although the diamond,
because of its superior qualities and exceptional brilliance and value,
was frequently looked upon as the gem of the sun. All gems associated
with the moon partook of its enigmatic character. Illuminating the
witching hour of the night, when malevolent and treacherous spirits
were supposed to hold sway, the moon was sometimes regarded as baleful,
as may be seen in the idea that associated lunacy with exposure to the
bright rays of the moon; at other times it was supposed to have the
power to conjure these evil influences and to drive off the powers of
darkness.

The symbolical significance of the colors of precious stones is treated
at considerable length by Giacinto Gimma,[13] who has gathered together
a great quantity of material on the subject.

Yellow worn by a man denoted secrecy, and was appropriate for the
silent lover; worn by a woman it indicated generosity. Golden yellow
was, of course, the symbol of the sun and of Sunday. The precious stone
was the chrysolite or the yellow jacinth. The animal connected with the
color was the lion, doubtless, from the association of the zodiacal
sign Leo with the midsummer sun. Of the seven ages of man yellow
typified adolescence. Roman matrons covered their heads with a yellow
veil to show their hope of offspring and happiness. Because garments of
this color were a sign of grandeur and nobility, a golden vestment is
assigned to the Queen of Heaven as a sign of her pre-eminence, as we
read in Psalm xlv, 9: “Upon thy right hand did stand the queen in gold
of Ophir.” Gimma’s explanation of this as referring to the Virgin Mary
is in accord with the Catholic exegesis of his time.

White signified for men friendship, religion, integrity; for women,
contemplation, affability, and purity. It was associated with the moon
and with Monday and was represented by the pearl. The animal having an
affinity with white was quite naturally the ermine. The mystic number
was seven, and white was the color of infancy. Among the ancients white
was a sign of mourning and sadness, and the Greek matrons attired
themselves in white on the death of their husbands. Gimma states that
in his time, in Rome, widows used to wear white as mourning for their
husbands, while throughout Italy a white band worn around the head was
a sign of widowhood.

Red garments on a man indicated command, nobility, lordship, and
vengeance; on a woman, pride, obstinacy, and haughtiness. This was
the color of the planet Mars and of Tuesday; it was represented by
the ruby. Why the lynx should have been selected as the animal for
red is rather difficult to understand, but, as the most vivid color,
the choice of red as a type of full manhood need not surprise us. Its
number was the potent nine, three multiplied by itself. The ancients
covered with a red cloth the biers of those who had died valiantly
in battle, as Homer[14] shows when he relates that the brothers and
companions of Hector covered the urn containing the hero’s ashes with
soft purple (scarlet) robes. Plutarch asserts that the Lacedemonians
clothed their soldiers in red to strike terror into the hearts of
their enemies and to manifest a thirst for blood. We might perhaps say
much the same of the English “red-coats” to-day. The Italian code of
criminal laws known as the “Digesto Nuovo” was bound in red, to signify
that a bloody death awaited thieves and murderers.

Blue on a man’s dress indicated wisdom and high and magnanimous
thoughts; on a woman’s dress, jealousy in love, politeness, and
vigilance. Friday and Venus were represented by blue, and the
celestial-hued sapphire was the stone in which this color appeared in
all its beauty. Blue was a fit symbol of the age of childhood, but
it is less easy to understand the choice of the goat as the animal
associated with the color. The significant number was six. Natural
science, the contemplation of the heavens and of the heavenly bodies,
and the study of stellar influences were all typified by blue.

Green signified for men joyousness, transitory hope, and the decline
of friendship; for women, unfounded ambition, childish delight, and
change. The early verdure of spring might be regarded as at once a
symbol of hope and of eventual disappointment, for it must soon pass
away. Mercury, and Wednesday, the day of Mercury, were both typified by
green, the sly fox being selected as the animal is sympathy with the
wily god. The typical green stone is the emerald, youth is the age of
man represented by the color, and five the magic number expressing it.
In ancient times green was used in the case of those who died in the
flower of youth, an emerald being sometimes placed on the index-finger
of the corpse, as a sign that the light of hope was spent, for the
lower part of the torches used in religious ceremonies was marked with
green. Fulvius Pellegrinus relates that, in the tomb of Tullia, the
dearly-beloved daughter of Cicero, there was found an emerald, the most
beautiful that had ever been seen. This passed into the hands of the
Marchesana di Mantova, Isabella Gonzaga da Este. In Italy the graves
of young virgins and of children were covered with green branches. When
the Codex Justinianus was rediscovered and added to the other Pandects,
it was bound in green to signify that these laws were rejuvenated.

Black for men means gravity, good sense, constancy, and fortitude;
for young women, fickleness and foolishness, but for married women,
constant love and perseverance. The planet Saturn and Saturday are
denoted by black. Strange to say, the diamond, the white gem _par
excellence_, was selected to represent this sombre hue. Perhaps to
offset this the animal chosen was the hog. As black was a mourning
color, we need not be surprised that it typified decrepitude. The
number eight, the double square, was supposed to have some affinity
with black. Black is a symbol of envy, for the thoughts which aim at
another’s injury cloud the soul and afflict the body. The book of laws
treating of dispositions made in view of death was bound in black. The
sinister significance of black is well illustrated by what is told of
the ruthless Tartar Tamerlane. When he attacked a city, he caused a
white tent to be pitched for himself on the first day of the siege, as
a sign that mercy would be shown to the inhabitants if they immediately
surrendered; on the second day a red tent was substituted, signifying
that if the city yielded, all the leaders would be put to death; on the
third day, however, a black tent was raised, an ominous signal that no
mercy would be shown and that all the inhabitants would be slaughtered.

Violet for a man denoted sober judgment, industry, and gravity; for a
woman, high thoughts and religious love. It was the color of the planet
Jupiter and of Thursday. As with blue, the sapphire was conceived to
present violet most attractively. That the bull should be selected
as the animal represented by this color probably arose from some
mythological connection with Jupiter, possibly the myth of Europa and
the bull. Violet was the color of old age and was associated with the
number three.

The influence of color upon the nerves has been noted by some of the
leading authorities on hypnotism. For example, Dr. Paul Ferez, finding
that red light is stimulating and blue-violet calming, suggests that
those who treat patients by means of hypnotism should have two rooms
for their reception. In one of these rooms the curtains, wall-paper,
chair-coverings, etc., would be red, while in the other they would
be of a violet-blue hue. Those suffering from a lack of will-power
or from lassitude and depression are to be received in the red room,
and those who are a prey to over-excitability are introduced into the
blue room. Moreover, according to Dr. Ferez, the sedative qualities of
the violet-blue can be utilized in inducing the hypnotic state. For
this purpose he recommends a violet-blue disk, which is to be rotated
rapidly before the eyes of the patient, the movement serving to attract
and hold his gaze better than any immovable object would do.[15]

Red stones such as rubies, carbuncles, and garnets, whose color
suggested that of blood, were not only believed to confer
invulnerability from wounds, but some Asiatic tribes have used garnets
as bullets, upon the contrary principle that this blood-colored stone
would inflict a more deadly wound than would a leaden bullet. Such
bullets were used by the rebellious Hanzas, in 1892, during their
hostilities with the British troops on the Kashmir frontier, and many
of these precious missiles were preserved as curiosities.

In his “Colloquy on Pilgrimages,” Erasmus makes one of the speakers
ask, “Dost thou not see how the artificer Nature delights to represent
all things by colors and forms, but more especially in gems?” He then
proceeds to enumerate the various images of natural objects in stones.
In the ceraunia appeared the thunder-bolt; in the pyrope, living
fire; the chalazia (rock-crystal) preserved the form and coldness of
the hailstone even if cast into the fire. In the emerald were shown
the deep and translucent waves of the sea; the carcinia imitated the
form of crabs; the echites, of vipers; the hieracites, of hawks; the
geranites, of cranes. The ætites offered the image of an eagle with
a white tail; the taos had the form of a peacock; the chelonites, of
an asp; while the myrmecites bore within the figure of an ant.[16]
The stones bearing this latter name were probably specimens of amber
containing ants.

The Greek names of these stones enumerated by Erasmus signify their
real or supposed resemblance to certain natural objects, or to
something characteristic of such objects. Many of them were fossils,
preserving the form of some living organism; a few were entirely
fabulous; still others owed their names to some legend or myth
illustrating their fancied therapeutic virtues, as in the case of the
ætites (eagle-stone) said to be found in the eagle’s nest. Evidently
this was a quartz pebble.

The oldest magic formulas that have been preserved for us are those of
the Sumerians, the founders of the ancient civilization of Babylonia.
Some of them contain references to the use of precious stones as
amulets, as appears in the following specimen:

Cords of light-colored wool,
Offered (?) with a pure hand,
For jaundice of the eye,
Bind on the right side (of the patient).
A lululti ring, with sparkling stones
Brought from his own land,
For inflammation of the eye,
On the little finger
Of his left (hand), place.[17]

A curious Babylonian mythological text represents the solar deity
Ninib, the son of Bel, as determining the fate of various stones by
pronouncing a blessing or a curse upon them. For instance, the dolomite
was blessed and declared to be fit material for the statues of kings,
while a substance called the _elu_ stone was cursed, proclaimed to be
unfit for working, and doomed to disintegration. Alabaster was favored
by the god, but chalcedony aroused his anger and was condemned.[18]

In these Sumero-Assyrian inscriptions, there is also mention of two
stones, the _aban râme_ and the _aban la râme_, the “Stone of Love”
and the “Stone of Hate” (lit. “non-love”).[19] Evidently these stones
were believed to excite one or other of these contradictory passions in
the hearts of the wearers, and they may be compared with the stones of
memory and forgetfulness in the “Gesta Romanorum.”

In an ancient Egyptian burial-place at Shêch Abd el-Qurna, excavated
by Passalaqua, was found the mummy of a young woman. Not only was it
evident from the rich ornaments adorning the body that she had been
of noble birth, but it was also apparent that she must have been
exceedingly beautiful in form and feature, and must have died in the
flower of her age. The hair was artistically braided and adorned with
twenty bronze hairpins. About her neck was a remarkably beautiful
necklace composed of four rows of beads with numerous pendants
representing divinities and sacred symbols. There were also two smaller
necklaces with beads of gold, lapis-lazuli, and carnelian; two large
jewelled ear-rings hung from her ears, and on the index-finger of
her right hand was a ring set with a scarab; a gold belt garnished
with lapis-lazuli and carnelians was bound about her waist and a gold
bracelet adorned with semi-precious stones encircled her left wrist.
In the sarcophagus was a beautiful mirror of golden-yellow bronze, and
three alabaster vases, one still containing some balm or perfume, and
another some galena (native lead sulphide) to be used as a cosmetic for
the eyes, as well as a little ebony pencil for its application. All
these objects are now in the Egyptian collection of the Berlin Museum,
and they probably belong to the period of the XVIII Dynasty, about 1500
B.C.

The principal necklace was undoubtedly regarded by the fair Egyptian
as an amulet of great power, but it failed to protect her from an
untimely end; perhaps, however, its virtues may have aided her soul in
its passage through the trials and tests imposed in the underworld. Of
the numerous pendants which lent to the necklace its peculiar quality
as an amulet, three, in carnelian, figure the god Bes; seven, also
in carnelian, the hippopotamus-goddess Toeris, of whom there are
besides two representations in lapis-lazuli; then we have a heart of
lapis-lazuli; a cat of lapis-lazuli; four falcons of carnelian; one
crocodile of carnelian and two of lapis-lazuli; four fish of carnelian,
as well as two others of a blackish-white and of a green stone,
respectively, and two scorpions of carnelian, and seven flower-forms
of the same stone. The greater part of the beads in this necklace are
of annular form, of gold, electrum, ivory, or lapis-lazuli; there are
a few larger annular or spherical beads of carnelian, chrysoprase, and
malachite, and measuring up to 3.5 cm. in diameter.[20]

A necklace, from the time of the Old Empire (c. 3500 B.C.), and having
for its chief adornment a turquoise pendant rudely fashioned into
the form of an ibex, was found by the German Orient-Gesellschaft at
Abusîr el-Meleq in 1905. This necklace, the parts of which were found
about the neck of a body, presumably that of a young man, was composed
of rounded and annular beads of carnelian and shell, as well as of
flat, perforated fragments of turquoise and almandine garnet and an
approximately lozenge-shaped bead of amethyst 1.7 cm. long and 1.4 cm.
broad. The chief ornament was the turquoise ibex 1.7 cm. in length and
0.9 cm. high.[21] This figure suggests a comparison with the animal and
bird forms fashioned out of turquoise that have been found in Indian
graves in Arizona and New Mexico, and it probably had the quality of a
fetich, or at least of a talisman, intended to guard the wearer of the
necklace from harm.

That there was in Egypt a strong inclination to use a certain
particular stone for a given amulet, will be noted in the case of those
inscribed with special chapters of the Book of the Dead. This is also
true of amulets of certain forms. For instance, the head-rest amulet
is usually of hematite as is also the carpenter’s square. Of the heart
amulets, numbering 47 in the rich collections of the Cairo Museum,
nine are of carnelian, four of hematite, two of lapis-lazuli, and two
each of green porphyry and green jasper, carnelian being thus the most
favored among the more precious materials. Amulets of animal form are
plentifully represented in this collection, figuring a large variety
of members of the animal kingdom such as the hippopotamus, crocodile,
lion, bull, cow, hare, dog-headed ape, cat, dog (somewhat doubtful),
jackal, hedgehog, frog, hawk, cobra and fishes, to which list may be
added a four-headed ram and a ram-headed sphinx.[22]

One of the special uses of amulets was for seafaring people, for,
in ancient times especially, all who went down to the sea in ships
were greatly in need of protection from the fury of the elements when
they embarked in their small sailing-vessels. A fragment of a Greek
Lapidary,[23] probably written in the third or fourth century of our
era, gives a list of seven amulets peculiarly adapted for this purpose.
The number might suggest a connection with the days of the week, and
the amulets were perhaps regarded as most efficacious when used on the
respective days.

In the first were set a carbuncle and a chalcedony; this amulet
protected sailors from drowning. The second had for its gem either of
two varieties of the adamas,—one, the Macedonian, being likened to
ice (this was probably rock-crystal), while the other, the Indian,
of a silvery hue, may possibly have been our corundum; however, the
Macedonian stone was regarded as the better. The third amulet bore the
beryl, “transparent, brilliant, and of a sea-green hue,” evidently the
aquamarine beryl; this banished fear. The fourth had for its gem the
_druops_, “white in the centre,” probably the variety of agate so much
favored as a protector against the spell of the Evil Eye. A coral was
placed in the fifth amulet, and this was to be attached to the prow of
the ship with strips of seal-skin; it guarded the vessel from winds and
waves in all waters. For the sixth amulet the _ophiokiolus_ stone was
selected, most probably a kind of banded agate, for it is said to have
been girdled with stripes like the body of a snake; whoever wore this
had no need to fear the surging ocean. The seventh and last of these
nautical amulets bore a stone called _opsianos_, apparently a resinous
or bituminous material, possibly a kind of jet; this came from Phrygia
and Galatia, and the amulet wherein it was set was a great protection
for all who journeyed by sea or by river.

The ancient treatises on the magic art show that the use of amulets
was considered to be indispensable for those who dared to evoke the
dark spirits of the nether-world, for without the protection afforded
by his amulet the magician ran the risk of being attacked by these
spirits. One of these texts gives directions for preparing an amulet,
or _phylacterion_, for the “undertaking”; for this a “sweet-smelling”
loadstone should be chosen, and should be cut heart-shaped and engraved
with the figure of Hecate.[24]

A costly Chinese amulet consists of the diamond, the ruby, and the
emerald, to which are added the pearl and coral; Oriental sapphire
and topaz are classed with the ruby. An amulet containing these five
substances is thought to combine the protecting influences of the
different deities presiding over them, and is supposed to lengthen the
wearer’s life. Sometimes these five princely gems are wrapped up in a
paper bearing the names of the respective divinities, to which is added
the name of the moon, and those of the twenty-seven constellations,
or houses of the moon. Such an amulet, suspended at the entrance of a
house, is believed to afford protection to the inmates.[25]

In the language of the ancient Mexicans blood was called
_chalchiuhatl_, or “water of precious stones,” as the quintessence
of what were regarded as the most costly things.[26] Although such
poetic designations are in modern times mere figures of speech, among
primitive peoples they are more significant, and it is highly probable
that with the Aztecs, as with other peoples, the wearing of precious
stones was believed to enrich the blood and thus to promote health and
vigor, for “the blood is the life.”

That gems had sex is asserted by the earliest writers as well as by
many of those of a later date. While this must usually be understood as
a poetic way of indicating a difference in shade, the darker varieties
being regarded as male and the lighter ones as female, Theophrastus,
the earliest Greek writer on precious stones, clearly shows that this
sexual distinction was sometimes seriously made, for he declares that,
wonderful as it might seem, certain gems were capable of producing
offspring.

This strange idea was still prevalent in the sixteenth century, and
ingenious explanations were sometimes given of the cause of this
phenomenon, as appears in the following account by Rueus of germinating
diamonds:[27]

It has recently been related to me by a lady worthy of credence, that
a noblewoman, descended from the illustrious house of Luxemburg, had
in her possession two diamonds which she had inherited, and which
produced others in such miraculous wise, that whoever examined them
at stated intervals judged that they had engendered progeny like
themselves. The cause of this (if it be permissible to philosophize
regarding such a strange matter) would seem to be that the celestial
energy in the parent stones, qualified by some one as “_vis
adamantifica_,” first changes the surrounding air into water, or
some similar substance, and then condenses and hardens this into the
diamond gem.

The pearl-fishers of Borneo are said to preserve carefully every ninth
pearl they find, and place them in a bottle with two grains of rice for
each pearl, believing, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, that
these particular pearls have the power to engender and breed others.
Custom and superstition require that each bottle shall have the finger
of a dead man as a stopper.

Talismanic influences are taken into account in the wearing of jewelry
by Orientals, two bracelets being frequently worn lest one member
should become jealous of the other, thus disturbing the equilibrium of
the whole organism. The piercing of the ears for ear-rings has been
attributed to a desire to chastise the ear for its indiscretion in
hearing secrets not intended to be heard, while costly and ornamental
ear-rings are set in the ears to console those parts of our anatomy
for the suffering caused by the operation of piercing. In the case
of necklaces of brilliant metal, adorned with pendants of glittering
stones, the talismanic purpose is to attract the beholder’s gaze and
thus ward off the mysterious and dangerous emanations set forth by the
Evil Eye; the necklace, or its ornaments, are supposed to perform a
similar service to that rendered by the lightning-rod in diverting the
electric discharge.

At an early date the Christian Church registered its opposition to the
practice of wearing amulets. At the Council of Laodicea, held in 355
A.D., it was decreed, in the thirty-fourth canon, that priests and
clerks must be neither enchanters, mathematicians, nor astrologers,
and that they must not make “what are called amulets,” for these were
fetters of the soul, and all who wore them should be cast out of
the church.[28] This emphatic condemnation of the prevailing usage
was not so much a protest against superstition _per se_ as against
pagan superstition, for almost if not all the amulets in use in the
early centuries of our era bore heathen or heretical symbols or
inscriptions. In later times the invincible tendency to wear objects
of this character found expression in the use of those associated
with Christian belief, such, for instance, as relics of the saints,
medallions blessed by the priest, etc.

The amulets of the Jews differed in many respects from those used by
Christians. The Mosaic prohibition of representations of human or
animal forms imposed great restrictions upon the employment of engraved
gems, and the Jew was only permitted to wear or carry those bearing
merely characters of mystic or symbolic significance. In talmudic times
amulets were sometimes hidden in a hollow staff, and they were believed
to have more power when concealed from view in this way. They were
like concealed weapons, and it was said that, as a father might give
such an amulet to a son, so God had given the Law to Israel for its
protection.[29]

In the Old French didactic poem, the _Roman de la Rose_, composed
in the twelfth century, appear traces of the belief in the magic
properties of precious stones. Chaucer translated this poem into
English in the fourteenth century and we quote the following lines
from his version. They describe the costume of the symbolical figure,
Riches.

Richesse a girdle hadde upon
The bokel of it was of a stoon
Of Vertue greet, and mochel of might.

That stoon was greetly for to love,
And til a riche mannes bihove
Worth al the gold in Rome and Fryse.

The mordaunt[30] wrought in noble wyse,
Was of a stoon full precious,
That was so fyn and vertuous,
That hool a man it coude make
Of palasye and of tooth-ake.[31]

At the trial, in 1232, of Hubert de Burgh, chief justiciar, one of the
charges brought against him was that he had surreptitiously removed
from the English treasury an exceedingly valuable stone, possessing the
virtue of rendering the wearer invincible in battle, and had given it
to Llewellyn, King of Wales, the enemy of his own sovereign, Henry III
of England (1207-1272).[32] This must have taken place about 1228, when
Henry was engaged in a war with the Welsh.

That precious stones could, under certain circumstances, lose the
powers inherent in them was firmly believed in medieval times. If
handled or even gazed upon by impure persons and sinners, some of the
virtues of the stones departed from them. Indeed, there were those who
held that precious stones, in common with all created things, were
corrupted by the sin of Adam. Therefore, in order to restore their
pristine virtue it might become necessary to sanctify and consecrate
them, and a kind of ritual serving this purpose has been preserved in
several old treatises. The subject is sufficiently curious to warrant
here the repetition of one of these forms. The stones which required
consecration were to be wrapped in a perfectly clean linen cloth and
placed on the altar. Then three masses were to be said over them, and
the priest who celebrated the third mass, clad in his sacred vestments,
was to pronounce the following benediction:[33]

The Lord be with us. And with thy spirit. Let us pray. Almighty
God and Father, who manifestedst thy virtue to Elias by certain
senseless creatures, who orderedst Moses, Thy servant, that, among
the sacerdotal vestments, he should adorn the Rational of Judgment
with twelve precious stones, and showedst to John, the evangelist, the
famous city of Jerusalem, essentially constituted by the same stones,
and who hadst the power to raise up sons to Abraham from stones, we
humbly beseech Thy majesty since Thou hast elected one of the stones
to be a dwelling-place for the majesty of Thy heart, that Thou wilt
deign to bless and sanctify these stones by the sanctification and
incarnation of Thy name, so that they may be sanctified, blessed,
and consecrated, and may receive from Thee the effect of the virtues
Thou hast granted to them, according to their kinds, and which the
experience of the learned has shown to have been given by Thee; so
that whoever may wear them on him may feel the presence of Thy power
and may be worthy to receive the gift of Thy grace and the protection
of Thy power. Through Jesus Christ, Thy Son, in whom dwells all
sanctification, benediction, and consecration; who lives with Thee and
reigns as God for all eternity, Amen. Thanks be to God.

Konrad of Megenburg also gives this benediction in his “Buch der Natur.”

Luther tells the following humorous tale of a Jew who was a vender of
amulets:

There is sorcery among the Jews and their sorcerers think: “If we
succeed, it is well for us; if we fail, a Christian is the sufferer;
what care we for that?” … But Duke Albert of Saxony acted shrewdly.
When a Jew offered him a button, inscribed with curious characters
and signs, and asserted that this button gave protection from cuts,
thrusts, and shots, the Duke answered: “I will test that upon thyself,
O Jew.” Hereupon he led the man to the gate, hung the button at his
neck, drew his own sword, and thrust the fellow through the body. “The
same fate would have happened to me,” said the Duke, “as has happened
to thee.”[34]

Ruskin, with his keen poetic insight into the working of natural laws,
saw in the formation of crystals the action of both “force of heart”
and “steadiness of purpose.” He thus found himself, consciously or
unconsciously, in agreement with the old fancies which attributed a
species of personality to precious stones. Just as the Hindu regarded
an imperfectly shaped crystal as a bringer of ill luck to the owner, so
Ruskin sees in such a crystal the signs of an innate “immorality,” if
we may use this expression. Of a crystal aggregation of this type he
writes as follows:[35]

Opaque, rough-surfaced, jagged on the edge, distorted in the spine,
it exhibits a quite human image of decrepitude and dishonour; but the
worst of all signs of its decay and helplessness is, that halfway up,
a parasite crystal, smaller, but just as sickly, has rooted itself in
the side of the larger one, eating out a cavity round its root, and
then growing backwards, or downwards, contrary to the direction of
the main crystal. Yet I cannot trace the least difference in purity
of substance between the first most noble stone, and this ignoble and
dissolute one. The impurity of the last is in its will or want of will.

There is established a very pretty custom of assigning to the various
masculine and feminine Christian names a particular gem, and such
name-gems are often set together with natal and talismanic gems and
with gems of one’s patron saint. It is considered an exceedingly good
omen when it happens that all three gems are of the same sort.


GEMS FOR FEMININE NAMES.

Adelaide Andalusite
Agnes Agate
Alice Alexandrite
Anne Amber

Beatrice Basalt
Belle Bloodstone
Bertha Beryl

Caroline Chalcedony
Catherine Cat’s-eye
Charlotte Carbuncle
Clara Carnelian
Constance Crystal

Dorcas Diamond
Dorothy Diaspore

Edith Eye-agate
Eleanor Elæolite
Elizabeth Emerald
Ellen Essonite
Emily Euclase
Emma Epidote

Florence Fluorite
Frances Fire-opal

Gertrude Garnet
Gladys Golden Beryl
Grace Grossularite

Hannah Heliotrope
Helen Hyacinth

Irene Iolite

Jane Jacinth
Jessie Jasper
Josephine Jadeite
Julia Jade

Louise Lapis-lazuli
Lucy Lepidolite

Margaret Moss-agate
Martha Malachite
Marie Moldavite
Mary Moonstone

Olive Olivine

Pauline Pearl

Rose Ruby

Sarah Spodumene
Susan Sapphire

Therese Turquoise


GEMS FOR MASCULINE NAMES.

Abraham Aragonite
Adolphus Albite
Adrian Andalusite
Albert Agate
Alexander Alexandrite
Alfred Almandine
Ambrose Amber
Andrew Aventurine
Archibald Axinite
Arnold Aquamarine
Arthur Amethyst
Augustus Agalmatolite

Benjamin Bloodstone
Bernard Beryl

Charles Chalcedony
Christian Crystal
Claude Cyanite
Clement Chrysolite
Conrad Crocidolite
Constantine Chrysoberyl
Cornelius Cat’s-eye

Dennis Demantoid
Dorian Diamond

Edmund Emerald
Edward Epidote
Ernest Euclase
Eugene Essonite

Ferdinand Feldspar
Francis Fire-opal
Frederick Fluorite

George Garnet
Gilbert Gadolinite
Godfrey Gagates
Gregory Grossularite
Gustavus Galactides
Guy Gold quartz

Henry Heliolite
Herbert Hyacinth
Horace Harlequin opal
Hubert Heliotrope
Hugh Heliodor
Humphrey Hypersthene

James Jade
Jasper Jasper
Jerome Jadeite
John Jacinth
Joseph Jargoon
Julius Jet

Lambert Labradorite
Lawrence Lapis-lazuli
Leo Lepidolite
Leonard Loadstone

Mark Malachite
Matthew Moonstone
Maurice Moss-agate
Michael Microcline

Nathan Natrolite
Nicholas Nephrite

Oliver Onyx
Osborne Orthoclase
Osmond Opal
Oswald Obsidian

Patrick Pyrope
Paul Pearl
Peter Porphyry
Philip Prase

Ralph Rubellite
Raymond Rose-quartz
Richard Rutile
Robert Rock-crystal
Roger Rhodonite
Roland Ruby

Stephen Sapphire

Theodore Tourmaline
Thomas Topaz

Valentine Vesuvianite
Vincent Verd-antique

Walter Wood-opal
William Willemite

 


III

On the Talismanic Use of Special Stones[36]


Agate

The author of “Lithica” celebrates the merits of the agate in the
following lines:[37]

Adorned with this, thou woman’s heart shall gain,
And by persuasion thy desire obtain;
And if of men thou aught demand, shalt come
With all thy wish fulfilled rejoicing home.

This idea is elaborated by Marbodus, Bishop of Rennes, in the eleventh
century, who declares that agates make the wearers agreeable and
persuasive and also give them the favor of God.[38] Still other virtues
are recounted by Camillo Leonardo, who claims that these stones
give victory and strength to their owners and avert tempests and
lightning.[39]

The agate possessed some wonderful virtues, for its wearer was guarded
from all dangers, was enabled to vanquish all terrestrial obstacles and
was endowed with a bold heart; this latter prerogative was presumably
the secret of his success. Some of these wonder-working agates were
black with white veins, while others again were entirely white.[40]

The wearing of agate ornaments was even believed to be a cure for
insomnia and was thought to insure pleasant dreams. In spite of these
supposed advantages, Cardano asserts that while wearing this stone he
had many misfortunes which he could not trace to any fault or error
of his own. He, therefore, abandoned its use; although he states that
it made the wearer more prudent in his actions.[41] Indeed, Cardano
appears to have tested the talismanic worth of gems according to a plan
of his own,—namely, by wearing them in turn and noting the degree
of good or ill fortune he experienced. By this method he apparently
arrived at positive results based on actual experience; but he quite
failed to appreciate the fact that no real connection of any kind
existed between the stones and their supposed effects. In another
treatise this author takes a somewhat more favorable view of the agate,
and proclaims that all varieties render those who wear them “temperate,
continent, and cautious; therefore they are all useful for acquiring
riches.”[42]

According to the text accompanying a curious print published in Vienna
in 1709, the attractive qualities of the so-called coral-agate were to
be utilized in an air-ship, the invention of a Brazilian priest. Over
the head of the aviator, as he sat in the air-ship, there was a network
of iron to which large coral-agates were attached. These were expected
to help in drawing up the ship, when, through the heat of the sun’s
rays, the stones had acquired magnetic power. The main lifting force
was provided by powerful magnets enclosed in two metal spheres; how the
magnets themselves were to be raised is not explained.[43]

About the middle of the past century, the demand for agate amulets was
so great in the Soudan that the extensive agate-cutting establishments
at Idar and Oberstein in Germany were almost exclusively busied with
filling orders for this trade. Brown or black agates having a white
ring in the centre were chiefly used for the fabrication of these
amulets, the white ring being regarded as a symbol of the eye. Hence
the amulets were supposed to neutralize the power of the Evil Eye, or
else to be emblematic of the watchfulness of a guardian spirit. The
demand for these amulets has fallen off greatly, but when it was at
its height single firms exported them to the value of 40,000 thalers
($30,000) annually, the total export amounting to hundreds of thousands
of thalers. Even at present a considerable trade in these objects is
still carried on. That there is a fashion in amulets is shown by the
fact that, while red, white, and green amulets are in demand on the
west coast of Africa, only white stones are favored for this use in
Northern Africa.

Alexandrite

There are a few talismanic stones which have gained their repute in
our time, notably the alexandrite, a variety of chrysoberyl found in
Russia, in the emerald mines on the Takowaya, in the Ural region. The
discovery of this variety is stated to have been made in 1831 on the
day Alexander II (then heir-apparent) reached his majority, and it was
therefore named alexandrite, by Nordenskjöld, the mineralogist. The
stone as found in gem form rarely weighs over from one to three carats,
and is characterized by a marked pleochroism of a splendid green
changing to a beautiful columbine red. But in Ceylon much larger gems
are found, some few weighing 60 carats each, although rarely of more
than one or two carats. The color is of a darker and more bottle-like
green, and the change by night renders them darker and more granitized
than the Russian stones, which are extremely rare. As red and green
are the Russian national colors, the alexandrite has become a great
favorite with the Russians, and is looked upon as a stone of good omen
in that country. Such, however, is its beauty as a gem that its fame is
by no means confined to Russia, and it is eagerly sought in other lands
as well.


Amber

Amber was one of the first substances used by man for decoration,
and it was also employed at a very early period for amulets and for
medicinal purposes. More or less shapeless pieces of rough amber,
marked with circular depressions, have been found in Prussia,
Schleswig-Holstein, and Denmark, in deposits of the Stone Age. These
depressions are sometimes regularly disposed and at other times
irregularly, and seem intended to imitate similar depressions found in
large stones and rocks, often the work of man’s hand, but occasionally
the result of natural causes. In Hoernes’ opinion they marked the
resting place of the spirit or spirits believed to animate the stone,
and hence it is probable that the amber fragments were used as
talismans or amulets.[44]

For the ancient Greek poets, the grains of amber were the tears
annually shed over the death of their brother Phaëthon by the Heliades
after grief had metamorphosed them into poplars growing on the banks
of the Eridanus (the modern river Po).[45] In a lost tragedy of
Sophocles, he saw the origin of amber in the tears shed over the death
of Meleager by certain Indian birds. For Nicias it was the “juice” or
essence of the brilliant rays of the setting sun, congealed in the sea
and then cast up upon the shore. A more prosaic explanation likened
amber to resin, and regarded it as being an exudation from the trunks
of certain trees. Indeed, the poetic fancy we have just noted is the
same idea clothed in a metaphorical or mythological form. Another fancy
represented amber to be the solidified urine of the lynx, hence one of
its names, _lyncurius_.[46]

The brilliant and beautiful yellow of certain ambers and the fact
that this material was very easily worked served to make its use more
general, and it soon became a favorite object of trade and barter
between the peoples of the Baltic Coast and the more civilized peoples
to the south. Schliemann found considerable amber from the Baltic in
the graves of Mycenæ, and the frequent allusions to it in the works
of Latin authors of the first and succeeding centuries testify to its
popularity in the Roman world.

Probably the very earliest allusion in literature to the ornamental use
of amber appears in Homer’s Odyssey,[47] where we read:

Eurymachus
Received a golden necklace, richly wrought,
And set with amber beads, that glowed as if
With sunshine. To Eurydamas there came
A pair of ear-rings, each a triple gem,
Daintily fashioned and of exquisite grace.
Two servants bore them.

Amber ingeniously carved into animal forms has been discovered in
tumuli at Indersoen, Norway.[48] These curious objects were worn as
amulets, and the peculiar forms were supposed to enhance the power of
the material, giving it special virtues and rendering it of greater
value and efficacy.

Pieces of amber with singular natural markings were greatly esteemed,
especially when these markings suggested the initials of the name of
some prominent person. Thus, we are told that Friedrich Wilhelm I of
Prussia paid to a dealer a high price for a piece of amber on which
appeared his initials. The same dealer had another piece on which he
read the initials of Charles XII of Sweden. When he received the news
of this king’s death, he bitterly lamented having lost the opportunity
of selling him amber for a high price. But he was cleverly consoled by
Nathaniel Sendal, the relator of the story, who easily persuaded the
dealer that the markings could just as well signify the initials of
some other name. Sendal adduces this as a proof that the letters read
on such pieces of amber were as much the product of the observer’s
imagination as of the markings on the material.[49] Those who secured
amber so mysteriously marked by Nature’s hand probably felt that they
had obtained a talisman of great power, especially destined for their
use.

Amethyst

While the special and traditional virtue of the amethyst was the cure
of drunkenness, many other qualities were attributed to this stone in
the fifteenth century. For Leonardo,[50] it had the power to control
evil thoughts, to quicken the intelligence, and to render men shrewd
in business matters. An amethyst worn on the person had a sobering
effect, not only upon those who had partaken too freely of the cup that
intoxicates, but also upon those over-excited by the love-passion.
Lastly, it preserved soldiers from harm and gave them victory over
their enemies, and was of great assistance to hunters in the capture of
wild animals. The amethyst shared with many other stones the power to
preserve the wearer from contagion.[51]

A pretty legend in regard to the amethyst has been happily treated in
French verse. The god Bacchus, offended at some neglect that he had
suffered, was determined to avenge himself, and declared that the first
person he should meet, when he and his train passed along, should be
devoured by his tigers. Fate willed it that this luckless mortal
was a beautiful and pure maiden named Amethyst, who was on her way to
worship at the shrine of Diana. As the ferocious beasts sprang toward
her, she sought the protection of the goddess, and was saved from a
worse fate by being turned into a pure white stone. Recognizing the
miracle and repenting of his cruelty, Bacchus poured the juice of the
grape as a libation over the petrified body of the maiden, thus giving
to the stone the beautiful violet hue that so charms the beholder’s
eye.[52]

From the various descriptions of this stone given by ancient writers,
it appears that one of the varieties was probably the purple almandine
or Indian garnet, and it is not improbable that we have here the reason
for the name amethyst and for the supposed virtue of the stone in
preserving from drunkenness. For if water were poured into a vessel
made of a reddish stone, the liquid would appear like wine, and could
nevertheless be drunk with impunity.


Beryl

Arnoldus Saxo, writing about 1220, after reciting the virtues of
the beryl as given by Marbodus, after Evax and Isidorus, reports
in addition that the stone gave help against foes in battle or in
litigation; the wearer was rendered unconquerable and at the same
time amiable, while his intellect was quickened and he was cured of
laziness.[53] In the old German translation of Thomas de Cantimpré’s
“De Proprietatibus Rerum,” we read that the beryl reawakens the
love of married people (er hat auch die art daz er der elaut lieb
wiederpringt).[54]


Bloodstone

The heliotrope or bloodstone was supposed to impart a reddish hue to
the water in which it was placed, so that when the rays of the sun
fell upon the water they gave forth red reflections. From this fancy
was developed the strange exaggeration that this stone had the power
to turn the sun itself a blood-red, and to cause thunder, lightning,
rain, and tempest. The old treatise of Damigeron relates this of the
bloodstone, adding that it announced future events by producing rain
and by “audible oracles.” Probably the conjurors, before proceeding
to use the stone for their incantations, watched the heavens and
waited until they noticed the signs of an approaching storm. They then
interpreted the sounds of the wind and thunder in various ways, so
as to give apt answers to the questions addressed to them touching
future events. It is well known that the sighing of the wind, and,
indeed, all those natural sounds which constitute the grand symphony of
Nature, were interpreted by prophets and seers into articulate speech.
Damigeron also declares that the bloodstone preserved the faculties and
bodily health of the wearer, brought him consideration and respect, and
guarded him from deception.[55]

In the Leyden papyrus the bloodstone is praised as an amulet in the
following extravagant terms:

The world has no greater thing; if any one have this with him he will
be given whatever he asks for; it also assuages the wrath of kings and
despots, and whatever the wearer says will be believed. Whoever bears
this stone, which is a gem, and pronounces the name engraved upon it,
will find all doors open, while bonds and stone walls will be rent
asunder.[56]


Carbuncle

The carbuncle was recommended as a heart stimulant; indeed, so powerful
was its action, that the wearers were rendered angry and passionate and
were even warned to be on their guard against attacks of apoplexy.[57]
The blood-red hue of the stone also suggested its use as a symbol of
the divine sacrifice of Christ on the cross. However, not only in
Christianity was this stone used to illustrate religious conceptions,
for the Koran affirms that the Fourth Heaven is composed of carbuncle.
In mythical fancies too this stone played its part, for dragon’s eyes
were said to be carbuncles.

Rumphius[58] states that in 1687 he was told by a chirurgeon that the
latter had seen in the possession of one of the rulers in the island of
Amboin a carbuncle said to have been brought by a serpent. The story
ran that this ruler, when a child, had been placed by his mother in a
hammock attached to two branches of a tree. While there a serpent crept
up to him and dropped a stone upon his body. In gratitude for this
gift the parents of the child fed and cared for the serpent. The stone
is described as having been of a warm yellow hue, verging on red; it
shone so brightly at night that a room could be illuminated by it. It
eventually passed into the possession of a King of Siam.


Carnelian

Talisman ist Karneol
Gläubigen bringt er Glück und Wohl;
Steht er gar auf Onyx’ Grunde,
Küss’ ihm mit geweihtem Munde!
Alles Übel treibt er fort,
Schützet dich und schützt den Ort;
Wenn das eingegrabene Wort
Allah’s Namen rein verkündet;
Dich zu Lieb’ und Tat entzündet;
Und besonders werden Frauen
Sich am Talisman erbauen![59]

Carnelian is a talisman,
It brings good luck to child and man;
If resting on an onyx ground,
A sacred kiss imprint when found.
It drives away all evil things;
To thee and thine protection brings.
The name of Allah, king of kings,
If graven on this stone, indeed,
Will move to love and doughty deed.
From such a gem a woman gains
Sweet hope and comfort in her pains.

The wearing of carnelians is recommended by the Lapidario of Alfonso
X[60] to those who have a weak voice or are timid in speech, for the
warm-colored stone will give them the courage they lack, so that they
will speak both boldly and well. This is in accord with the general
belief in the stimulating and animating effects produced by red stones.

On a carnelian is engraved in Arabic characters a prayer to keep away
evil and to deliver the wearer from all the tricks of the devil and
from the envious. The inscription reads in translation:

In the name of God the Just, the very Just!
I implore you, O God King of the World,
God of the World, deliver us from the devil
Who tries to do harm and evil to us through
Bad people, and from the evil of the envious.

Throughout all the East people are afraid of the envious. They believe
that if you envy a person for his health or his wealth or any good
thing he may have, he will lose it in a short time, and it is the devil
who incites the envy of some people against others. So it is supposed
that by wearing this stone, bearing this prayer against the envious,
their envy will cease to do you harm.

The popularity of the carnelian as a talismanic stone among Mohammedan
peoples is said to be due to the fact that the Prophet himself wore, on
the little finger of his right hand, a silver ring set with a carnelian
engraved for use as a seal. One of the most famous of the imâms, Jafar,
lent the weight of his authority to the belief in the virtue of the
carnelian, for he declared that all the desires of any man who wore
this stone would be gratified. Hence in Persia the name of one of the
twelve imâms, comprising Ali and his successors, is frequently engraved
on this stone.[61]

This most interesting seal is described by the Rev. C. W. King, the
writer on Antique Gems. It is carnelian, octagonal-shaped, and upon it
is engraved the legend: “The slave Abraham relying upon the Merciful
(God).” Napoleon III wore it on his watch-chain. He said about it: “The
First Consul picked it up with his own hands during the campaign in
Egypt and always carried it about him, as his nephew did later.” The
Prince Imperial received it with the following message: “As regards
my son, I desire that he will keep, as a talisman, the Seal which I
used to wear attached to my watch.” He carried the seal upon a string
fastened about his neck in obedience to the injunction of his father.
At the time of his lamentable death it must have been carried off in
South Africa by the Zulus, when they stripped his body, and it has
never been recovered.]

An Armenian writer of the seventeenth century reports that in India the
_lâl_ or balas-ruby, if powdered and taken in a potion was believed
to banish all dark forebodings and to excite joyous emotions. To the
carnelian was attributed a virtue somewhat analogous to that ascribed
to the turquoise, as anyone wearing a carnelian was proof against
injury from falling houses or walls; the writer emphasizes this by
stating that “no man who wore a carnelian was ever found in a collapsed
house or beneath a fallen wall.”[62]


Chalcedony

An ingenious though far-fetched explanation of the power attributed
to chalcedony of driving away phantoms and visions of the night is
supplied by Gonelli, writing in 1702. For him the source of this
asserted power was to be found in what has been erroneously termed the
alkaline quality of the stone. This dissipated the evil humors of the
eye, thus removing the diseased condition of that organ which caused
the apparitions to be seen.[63] However absurd this explanation may
be, it nevertheless shows that the author put little faith in visible
ghosts, and rightly enough recognized the purely subjective character
of such phenomena.


Chrysoberyl

The cat’s-eye variety of chrysoberyl, or precious cat’s-eye, is used
by the natives of Ceylon as a charm against evil spirits. As a proof
of the high value set upon the gem in India, De Boot states that a
cat’s-eye estimated as worth ninety gold pieces in Lusitania was sold
for six hundred in India.[64] Some of the finest specimens come from
Ceylon.


Chrysolite

The “Serpent Isle,” in the Red Sea, was stated by Agatharcides to be
the source whence came the topaz (chrysolite); here, by the mandate
of the Egyptian kings, the inhabitants collected specimens of this
stone and delivered them to the gem-cutters for polishing.[65] These
simple details are elaborated by Diodorus Siculus into the legend that
the island was guarded by jealous watchers who had orders to put to
death any unauthorized persons who approached it. Even those who had
the right to seek the gem could not see the chrysolite in daytime;
only after nightfall was it revealed by its radiance; the seekers then
marked well the spot and were able to find the stone on the following
day.[66]

From this Egyptian source, and possibly from others exploited by the
Egyptians, have come the finest chrysolites (peridots, or olivines),
the most magnificent examples of this gem. These found their way into
the cathedral treasures of Europe, evidently by loot or trade at the
period of the Crusades, and are generally called emeralds. Those most
notable are in the Treasury of the Three Magi, in the great “Dom,” or
Cathedral at Cologne. Some of these gems are nearly two inches long.

In our own land beautiful specimens can be seen in the Morgan
collection at the American Museum of Natural History and in the
Higinbotham Hall in the Field Museum of Natural History, Chicago,
Illinois.

Pliny quotes from Juba the tradition that the topaz (chrysolite)
derived its name from the Island of Topazos, in the Red Sea, the first
specimen having been brought thence by the procurator Philemon, to
Berenice, mother of Ptolemy II, Philadelphus. This monarch is said to
have had a statue of his wife Arsinoë made from the stone.[67] If there
be any foundation for this latter statement, the precious gift sent by
Philemon must have been a mass of fluorspar, or some similar material.
More than three hundred years after Pliny’s time, Epiphanius, evidently
repeating another version of this tradition, states that the “topaz”
was set in the diadem of the “Theban queen.”

Chrysolite (olivine, peridot), to exert its full power, required to be
set in gold; worn in this way it dispelled the vague terrors of the
night. If, however, it were to be used as a protection from the wiles
of evil spirits, the stone had to be pierced and strung on the hair of
an ass and then attached to the left arm.[68] The belief in the virtue
of the chrysolite to dissolve enchantments and to put evil spirits to
flight was probably due to the association of the stone with the sun,
before whose life-giving rays darkness and all the powers of darkness
were driven away.


Chrysoprase

Wonderful things are told of the virtue of the chrysoprase, for Volmar
states that, if a thief sentenced to be hanged or beheaded should
place this stone in his mouth, he would immediately escape from his
executioners.[69] Although we are not informed in what way this
fortunate result was attained, it seems likely that the stone was
believed to make the thief invisible, and thus possessed a virtue often
attributed to the opal.

A strange story regarding a magic stone reputed to have been worn by
Alexander the Great is related by Albertus Magnus. According to this
recital, Alexander, in his battles, wore a “prase” in his girdle. On
his return from his Indian campaign, wishing one day to bathe in the
Euphrates, he laid aside his girdle, and a serpent bit off the stone
and then dropped it into the river.[70] Even Albertus, who is far from
critical, admits that the story seems like a fable, and it probably
belongs to a comparatively late period. As the term “prase” is used
very loosely by early writers, this “victory stone” may have been an
emerald or possibly jade.


Coral

The appreciation of coral as an ornament, or for amulets, seems to
presuppose a certain development of civilization, for savage tribes
greatly prefer glass ornaments. Many attempts have been made to
introduce coral beads instead of glass beads among such tribes, but
with no success, as the cheaper, but brighter, glass always commands a
higher price.[71]

To still tempests and traverse broad rivers in safety was the privilege
of one who bore either red or white coral with him. That this also
stanched the flow of blood from a wound, cured madness, and gave
wisdom, was said to have been experimentally proved.[72]

Coral, which, for twenty centuries or more was classed among the
precious stones, to retain its power as an amulet, must not have been
worked, and in Italy only such pieces are valued for this purpose
as have been freshly gathered from the sea or have been cast up by
the sea on the shore. To exercise all its power against spells, or
enchantments, coral must be worn where its brilliant color makes
it conspicuous; if, however, it should by accident be broken, the
separate pieces have no virtue, and the magic power ceases, as though
the spirit dwelling in the coral had fled from its abode. The peasant
women are careful to guard the corals they wear for a special purpose
from the eyes of their husbands, for the substance is believed to grow
pale at certain seasons, regaining its pristine hue after a short
interval of time. Indeed, the women believe that the coral shares their
indisposition with them. All this serves to show that a kind of vital
force is believed to animate the material, gaining or losing in vigor
according to certain conditions, and finally disappearing when the form
is broken. These beliefs are all clearly traceable to the animistic
ideas of primitive man.[73]


Diamond

The diamond is to the pearl as the sun is to the moon, and we might
well call one the “king-gem” and the other the “queen-gem.” The
diamond, like a knight of old,—brilliant and resistant, is the emblem
of fearlessness and invincibility; the pearl, like a lady of old,—pure
and fair to look upon, is the emblem of modesty and purity. Therefore
it does not seem unfitting that the diamond should be presented as a
token to the pearl, and that pearls should go with the diamond. The
virtues ascribed to this stone are almost all directly traceable either
to its unconquerable hardness or to its transparency and purity. It
was therefore thought to bring victory to the wearer, by endowing him
with superior strength, fortitude, and courage. Marbodus[74] tells us
it was a magic stone of great power and served to drive away nocturnal
spectres; for this purpose it should be set in gold and worn on the
left arm. For St. Hildegard the sovereign virtue of the diamond was
recognized by the devil, who was a great enemy of this stone because it
resisted his power by day and by night.[75] Rueus[76] calls it “a gem
of reconciliation,” as it enhanced the love of a husband for his wife.

Cardano[77] takes a more pessimistic view of the qualities of the
diamond. He says:

It is believed to make the wearer unhappy; its effects therefore are
the same upon the mind as that of the sun upon the eye, for the latter
rather dims than strengthens the sight. It indeed renders fearless,
but there is nothing that contributes more to our safety than prudence
and fear; therefore it is better to fear.

The diamond was often associated with the lightning and was sometimes
believed to owe its origin to the thunderbolt, but we do not recall
having seen elsewhere the statement made in an anonymous Italian
manuscript of the fourteenth century. Here it is expressly asserted
that the diamond is sometimes consumed or melted when it thunders.[78]
Certainly, that the same force that was supposed to have formed the
stone should be able to dissolve it, is not an illogical idea. That the
diamond can be entirely consumed at a high temperature was a fact not
known in Europe in the fourteenth century, and therefore the belief in
the destructive effect of the electric current must have arisen from
superstitious or poetic fancies, and not from any vague conception of
the true nature of the diamond.

In the Talmud we read of a gem, supposed to have been the diamond,
which was worn by the high priest.[79] This stone served to show the
guilt or innocence of one accused of any crime; if the accused were
guilty, the stone would grow dim, but if he were innocent, it would
shine more brilliantly than ever. This quality is also alluded to by
Sir John Mandeville, who wrote:

It happens often that the good diamond loses its virtue by sin and for
incontinence of him who bears it.

The Hindus classed diamonds according to the four castes. The Brahmin
diamond gave power, friends, riches and good luck; the Kshatriya
diamond prevented the approach of old age; the Vaisya stone brought
success, and the Sudra, all manner of good fortune. On the other hand,
in the treatise on gems by Buddhabhatta[80] we read:

A diamond, a part of which is the color of blood or spotted with red,
would quickly bring death to the wearer, even if he were the Master of
Death.

The Arabians and Persians, as well as the modern Egyptians, agree in
attributing to the diamond a wonderful power to bring good fortune, and
Rabbi Benoni, a mystic of the fourteenth century, treating of its magic
virtues, asserts that it produces somnambulism, and, as a talisman, so
powerfully attracts the planetary influences that it renders the wearer
invincible; it was also said to provoke a state of spiritual ecstasy.
An alchemist of the same century, Pierre de Boniface, asserted that the
diamond made the wearer invisible.

A curious fancy, prevalent in regard to many stones, attributed sex to
the diamond, and it is therefore not surprising that these stones were
also supposed to possess reproductive powers. In this connection Sir
John Mandeville wrote:

They grow together, male and female, and are nourished by the dew of
heaven; and they engender commonly, and bring forth small children
that multiply and grow all the year. I have oftentimes tried the
experiment that if a man keep them with a little of the rock, and
water them with May dew often, they shall grow every year and the
small will grow great.

The following lines from a translation of the celebrated Orphic poem,
written in the second century, show the high esteem in which the adamas
was held at that time:

The Evil Eye shall have no power to harm
Him that shall wear the diamond as a charm,
No monarch shall attempt to thwart his will,
And e’en the gods his wishes shall fulfil.

This probably refers either to colorless corundum, the so-called “white
sapphire,” or to quartz. The writer is disinclined to believe that the
ancients knew the diamond.

The ancient Hindu gem-treatise of Buddhabhatta asserts that the diamond
of the Brahmin should have the whiteness of a shell or of rock-crystal;
that of the Kshatriya, the brown color of the eye of a hare; that of
the Vaisya, the lovely shade of a petal of the _kadali_ flower; that
of the Sudra, the sheen of a polished blade. To kings alone the sages
assigned two classes of colored diamonds,—namely, those red as coral
and those yellow as saffron. These were exclusively royal gems, but
diamonds of all other shades could be set in royal jewels.[81]

A typical diamond is thus described in a Hindu gem-treatise:[82]

A six-pointed diamond, pure, without stain, with pronounced and sharp
edges, of a beautiful shade, light, with well-formed facets, without
defects, illuminating space with its fire and with the reflection of
the rainbow, a diamond of this kind is not easy to find in the earth.

According to a wide-spread superstition, the talismanic power of a
diamond was lost if the stone were acquired by purchase; only when
received as a gift could its virtues be depended on.[83] The same
belief is noted regarding the turquoise. The spirit dwelling in the
stone was thought to take offence at the idea of being bought and sold,
and was supposed to depart from the stone, leaving it nothing more than
a bit of senseless matter. If, however, the diamond (or turquoise) were
offered as a pledge of love or friendship, the spirit was quite willing
to transfer its good offices from one owner to another.

The Talmud shows us that the Jewish Rabbis sometimes endeavored to
enliven their exhaustive discussions of ritual and legal questions by
telling “good stories” to each other. One of these may be given as
illustrating at once the wild improbability of some of these recitals
and the belief in the wonderful magic virtues of the diamond:[84]

R. Jehudah of Mesopatamia used to tell: Once while on board of a ship,
I saw a diamond that was encircled by a snake, and a diver went to
catch it. The snake then opened its mouth, threatening to swallow the
ship. Then a raven came, bit off its head, and all water around turned
into blood. Then another snake came, took the diamond, put it in the
carcass, and it became alive; and again it opened its mouth, in order
to swallow the ship. Another bird then came, bit off its head, took
the diamond and threw it on the ship. We had with us salted birds, and
we wanted to try whether the diamond would bring them to life, so we
placed the gem on them, and they became animated and flew away with
the gem.

It is said that the first large diamonds discovered by Europeans in
South Africa were found in the leather bag of a sorcerer. Although
large stones or fragments of rock are usually the objects of adoration
as fetiches in Africa, any small stone that is wrapped in colored rags
and worn on the neck may be regarded in the same way.[85] Several
competent authorities state that these diamonds were the playthings of
some Boer children.

Al Kazwini relates as follows the marvellous tale of the Valley of
Diamonds:[86]

“Aristotle[87] says that no one except Alexander ever reached the
place where the diamond is produced. This is a valley, connected with
the land Hind. The glance cannot penetrate to its greatest depths and
serpents are found there, the like of which no man hath seen, and
upon which no man can gaze without dying. However, this power endures
only as long as the serpents live, for when they die the power leaves
them. In this place summer reigns for six months and winter for the
same length of time. Now, Alexander ordered that an iron mirror should
be brought and placed at the spot where the serpents dwelt. When the
serpents approached, their glance fell upon their own image in the
mirror, and this caused their death. Hereupon, Alexander wished to
bring out the diamonds from the valley, but no one was willing to
undertake the descent. Alexander therefore sought counsel of the wise
men, and they told him to throw down a piece of flesh into the valley.
This he did, the diamonds became attached to the flesh, and the birds
of the air seized the flesh and bore it up out of the valley. Then
Alexander ordered his people to pursue the birds and to pick up what
fell from the flesh.”

“Another writer states that the mines are in the mountains of Serendib
(Ceylon) in a very deep gorge, in which are deadly serpents. When
people wish to take out the diamonds they throw down pieces of flesh,
which are seized by vultures and brought up to the brink of the gorge.
There such of the diamonds as cling to the flesh are secured; these
are of the size of a lentil or a pea. The largest pieces found attain
the size of a half-bean.”

In his version of the tale, one form of which appears in the seventh
voyage of Sindbad the Sailor, Teifashi states that the finest corundum
gems were washed down the streams that flowed from Adam’s Peak, on the
island of Ceylon; in time of drought, however, this source of supply
ceased. Now it happened that many eagles built their nests on the top
of this mountain, and the gem-seekers used to place large pieces of
flesh at the foot of the mountain. The eagles pounced upon these and
bore them away to their nests, but were obliged to alight from time to
time in order to rest, and while the pieces of flesh lay on the rock,
some of the corundums became lightly attached to this, so that when the
eagles resumed their flight the stones dropped off and rolled down the
mountain side.[88]

These oft-repeated tales are explained by Dr. Valentine Ball as
originating in the Hindu custom of sacrificing cattle when new mines
were opened, and leaving on the spot a certain part of the meat as an
offering to the guardian deities. As these pieces of meat were soon
carried away by birds of prey, the legend arose that the diamonds were
obtained in this way. This custom still prevailed in some parts of
India when Dr. Ball wrote.[89]

The effect exercised by Hindu superstition on even the most enlightened
Europeans of our day may be recognized in the fact that the gifted
prima donna, Mme. Maeterlinck, the wife of the foremost living European
poet, has confessed that she wears a diamond suspended on her forehead
because her husband believes that this brings good fortune to the
wearer. This forehead-jewel is characteristically Hindu and enjoys in
India the reputation of being especially auspicious.


Emerald

The emerald was believed to foreshow future events,[90] but we do not
learn whether visions were actually seen in the stone, as they were
in spheres of rock-crystal or beryl, or whether the emerald endowed
the wearer with a supernatural fore-knowledge of what was to come. As
a revealer of truth, this stone was an enemy of all enchantments and
conjurations; hence it was greatly favored by magicians, who found all
their arts of no avail if an emerald were in their vicinity when they
began to weave their spells.[91]

To this supernatural power inherent in the stone, enabling it to
quicken the prophetic faculty, may be added many other virtues. If
any one wished to strengthen his memory or to become an eloquent
speaker, he was sure to attain his end by securing possession of a
fine emerald.[92] And not only the ambitious, but also those whose
hearts had been smitten by the shafts from Cupid’s bow found in this
stone an invaluable auxiliary, for it revealed the truth or falsity of
lover’s oaths. Strange to say, however, the emerald, although commonly
assigned to Venus, was often regarded as an enemy of sexual passion. So
sensitive was the stone believed to be in this respect that Albertus
Magnus relates of King Bela of Hungary, who possessed an exceptionally
valuable emerald set in a ring, that, when he embraced his wife while
wearing this ring on his finger, the stone broke into three parts.[93]

In Rabbinical legend it is related that four precious stones were given
by God to King Solomon; one of these was the emerald. The possession
of the four stones is said to have endowed the wise king with power
over all creation.[94] As these four stones probably typified the four
cardinal points, and were very likely of red, blue, yellow, and green
color respectively, we might conjecture that the other three stones
were the carbuncle, the lapis-lazuli, and the topaz.

After stating that the emerald sharpens the wits and quickens the
intelligence, Cardano declares that it therefore made people more
honest, for “dishonesty is nothing but ignorance, stupidity, and
ill-nature.” The same writer adds that the stone was believed to make
men economical and hence to make them rich, but of this he was very
sceptical, since the experience of others as well as his own showed
that the emerald possessed very little power in this direction.[95]

A talismanic emerald, once the property of the Mogul emperors of Delhi,
has recently been shown in Europe. The stone is of a rich deep green,
and weighs 78 carats. Around the edge in Persian characters runs the
inscription: “He who possesses this charm shall enjoy the special
protection of God.”

Emerald sharpened the wits, conferred riches and the power to predict
future events. To evolve this latter virtue it must be put under the
tongue. It also strengthened the memory. The light-colored stones were
esteemed the best and legend told that they were brought from the
“nests of griffons.”[96]


Gypsum

Gypsum when fibrous—the fibres being long and straight—is known
as “satin spar.” This material is frequently cut rounded, or _en
cabochon_, across the fibres; sometimes it is cut in the form of beads,
or of pear-shaped drops, which are mounted in ear-rings, scarf-pins,
or necklaces. The material is frequently found in Russia, England, and
elsewhere, and is cut in England or Russia. Some of the cut stones are
mounted in brass, or gilded brass, and sold as luck stones at Niagara,
the claim being made that the “satin spar” was taken from beneath the
Falls at great peril, as occasionally small deposits of this kind of
gypsum are found under the Falls.

From time to time small consignments of this material have been sent to
Japan, as the Japanese value it possibly on account of its purity, or
owing to the fact that it has the effect of the cat’s-eye. It is quite
cheap, and at the same time very soft, so that it can be scratched with
the finger-nail. That found in Russia is of a golden-yellow or salmon
color, and is worked into various ornaments, the one popular form being
egg-shaped, and, because of their form, such objects are frequently
given as Easter gifts. The same material is also known in Egypt, and is
cut in the same egg form, the ornaments being called “Pharaoh’s eggs,”
although just which Pharaoh this refers to is not stated. They are also
believed to possess qualities of protection and to bring good fortune.


Hematite

The virtues of the hematite were praised in an ancient gem-treatise
written by Azchalias of Babylon for Mithridates the Great, King of
Pontus (d. 63 B.C.), a sovereign who was passionately fond of precious
stones, and possessed a splendid collection of them, both engraved
and unengraved. Azchalias, as cited by Pliny[97] taught that human
destinies were influenced by the virtues inherent in precious stones,
and asserted that the hematite, when used as a talisman, procured for
the wearer a favorable hearing of petitions addressed to kings and a
fortunate issue of lawsuits and judgments. It is a red oxide of iron,
which when abraded shows a red streak; whence the name hematite, from
the Greek _haima_, “blood.” As an iron ore and hence associated with
Mars, the god of war, this substance was also considered to be an
invaluable help to the warrior on the field of battle if he rubbed his
body with it. Probably, like the loadstone, it was believed to confer
invulnerability.

The high degree of skill possessed by the Pueblo workers is strikingly
shown in a finely inlaid hematite cylinder found in Pueblo Bonito.
The inlays are of turquoise and are designed to make the cylinder a
conventional representation of a bird. The wings are indicated by
turquoise inlays of pyramidal outline, curved so as to follow the
curvature of the cylinder, the head being figured by a conical piece of
turquoise attached to one end. This conical termination bore a small
bird-figure carved in relief.[98] When we consider the difficulties the
Indian workers had to overcome in the execution of this artistic task
with the tools at their command, we can well realize that this object,
probably an amulet, must have been considered very valuable, and was
most likely the property of some one of high rank in the tribe or
community.


Jacinth

The jacinth was more especially recommended as an amulet for
travellers, because of its reputed value as a protection against the
plague and against wounds and injuries, the two classes of perils most
feared by those who undertook long journeys. Moreover, this stone
assured the wearer a cordial reception at any hostelry he visited.[99]
It was said to lose its brilliancy and grow pale and dull if the wearer
or any one in his immediate neighborhood became ill of the plague. In
addition to these qualities the jacinth augmented the riches of the
owner, and endowed him with prudence in the conduct of his affairs.[100]

St. Hildegard, the Abbess of Bingen (d. 1179), gives the following
details as to the proper use of the _jachant_ (jacinth):[101]

If any one is bewitched by phantoms or by magical spells, so that he
has lost his wits, take a hot loaf of pure wheaten bread and cut the
upper crust in the form of a cross,—not, however, cutting it quite
through,—and then pass the stone along the cutting, reciting these
words: “May God, who cast away all precious stones from the devil …
cast away from thee, N., all phantoms and all magic spells, and free
thee from the pain of this madness.”

The patient is then to eat of the bread; if, however, his stomach
should be too feeble, unleavened bread may be used. All other solid
food given to the sick person should be treated in the same manner. We
are also told that if any one has a pain in his heart, the pain will be
relieved provided the sign of the cross be made over the heart while
the above mentioned words are recited.

The wearer of a jacinth was believed to be proof against the lightning,
and it was even asserted that wax that had been impressed by an image
graven on this stone averted the lightning from one who bore the seal.
That the stone really possessed this power was a matter of common
report, it being confidently declared that in regions where many were
struck by lightning, none who wore a jacinth were ever harmed. By a
like miracle it preserved the wearer from all danger of pestilence even
though he lived in an air charged with the disease. A third virtue was
to induce sleep. Of this, Cardano states that he was in the habit of
wearing rather a large jacinth, and had found that the stone “seemed to
dispose somewhat to sleep, but not much.” He adds, in explanation of
its slight efficacy, that his stone was not bright red, nor of the best
sort, but of a golden hue, differing much from the best.[102]


Jade

The name jade includes two distinct minerals, nephrite and jadeite.
The former is a silicate of magnesia, of exceedingly tough structure,
and ranks 6.5 in the scale of hardness, while jadeite, a silicate of
alumina, is more crystalline and not as tough as nephrite and has a
hardness of 7. A variety having a rich emerald-green hue is called by
the Chinese _fei ts’ui_, “Kingfisher plumes”; it is also denominated
Imperial jade.

The original form of the Chinese character _pao_, signifying
“precious,” consists of the outline of a house, within which are the
symbols of jade beads, shell, and an earthen jar. This shows that at
the very early time when these characters were first used, the Chinese
already collected jade and employed it for personal adornment.[103]
The oldest form of the ideograph for “king”, [3 “beads” on a vertical
string], appears to be the symbol for a string of jade beads, which are
even now used in China as insignia for high rank and authority.[104]

Jade amulets of many different forms are popular with the Chinese. One
representing two men is called “Two Brothers of Heavenly Love,” and
is often given to friends. A phœnix of jade is a favorite ornament
for young girls and is bestowed upon them when they come of age. To a
newly-wedded pair is given the figure of a man riding on a unicorn and
holding castanets in his hand; this signifies that an heir will be born
in due time.

Such is the fondness of the Chinese for jade that those who can afford
the luxury of its possession are wont to carry with them small pieces,
so that they may have them always at hand; for they believe that, when
handled, something of the secret virtue of the substance is absorbed
into the body. When struck, jade is thought to emit a peculiarly
melodious sound, which for the Chinese poet resembles the voice of the
loved one; indeed, jade is termed the concentrated essence of love.

Fashioned into the form of a butterfly, a piece of jade acquires a
special romantic significance in China, because of a Chinese legend
which relates that a youth in his eager pursuit of a many-hued
butterfly made his way into the garden of a rich mandarin. Instead of
being punished for his trespass, the youth’s unceremonious visit led
to his marriage with the mandarin’s daughter. Hence the figure of a
butterfly is a symbol of successful love, and Chinese bridegrooms are
wont to present jade butterflies to their fiancées.

A Chinese jade ornament constituting a child’s amulet assumes a form
approximating to that of a padlock. When this is attached to a child’s
neck, it is supposed to bind the little one to life and protect it
from all danger in infantile diseases. A jade object of a different
kind is sometimes used at nuptial feasts in China. This is a cup having
the form of a cock, and both bride and groom drink from it. The form
of this vessel is accounted for by a legend to the effect that when a
beautiful white cock saw its young mistress, who had often petted it,
throw herself into a well in a transport of despair at the loss of her
lover, the faithful fowl sought and found death in the same way, so as
not to be separated from its mistress.

Among the splendid Chinese jade carvings of the Woodward Collection
is a curious symbolic ornament carved out of the rare _fei-ts’ui
yü_, or “kingfisher-green jade,” a rich emerald green jadeite with
translucent green shading. This ornament, executed in the beginning of
the eighteenth century and believed to be a product of the Imperial
Jade Works in Peking, figures the natural form of a so-called
“hand-of-Buddha” citron, the finger-like protuberances of the fruit
suggesting this strangely fanciful name. The Chinese regard this as a
most felicitous emblem, denoting at once a long life and abundance of
riches for its enjoyment. In the present carving the figure of a bat
clinging to the foliage enveloping the fruit constitutes an added omen
of good fortune, the Chinese character _fu_ signifying at once “bat”
and “happiness,” another proof of what we are prone to call Chinese
queerness, for with the superstitious of our race the bat is always
looked upon as especially ill-omened.[105]

It is a well-known fact that many analogies have been found between
the customs, usages, and products of the more civilized aborigines of
the New World and those of the ancient Egyptians. Another instance is
offered by the custom of placing a piece of _chalchihuitl_ (jade?) or
of some other green stone in the mouth of a noble, after his death,
and calling this his heart. Among the lower classes a _texaxoctli_, a
stone of small value, was used for the same purpose. We shall see that,
in the Egyptian “Book of the Dead,” directions are given for putting a
semi-precious stone on or in a mummy, as a symbol, and designating this
the heart of the deceased person. For the use of a green stone for this
purpose by the ancient Mexicans, Mrs. Zelia Nuttall finds a reason in
the two meanings of the Nahuatl word _xoxouhqui-yollotl_, which is used
to signify a “free man,” the literal meaning being a “fresh or green
heart.” Hence, the stone was a symbol of the rank of the deceased as
well as of his heart.[106] The fact that jade celts have been found cut
into several pieces is taken to indicate the high value placed upon
this material; for it has been conjectured by Dr. Earle Flint, that a
living chief would cut a piece from the jade he wore as a sign of his
rank, in order to provide a suitable ornament or amulet for a dead
kinsman.

To certain of the Chinese “tomb-jades”—that is, jade amulets deposited
with the dead—has been given the name _han-yü_, or “mouth-jade,”
because these amulets, supposed to afford protection to the dead, were
placed in their mouths. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York
contains a fine collection of 279 specimens of jade from Chinese tombs,
found within the past five or six years, and presented to the museum
by Mr. Samuel F. Peters. In color these jades are not especially
attractive, for the material has acquired a brownish stain, due to the
products of decomposition of the body, and also to the absorption of
some of the chemical constituents of the other objects in the tomb,
during the long period of time, in many cases a thousand years or more,
since the bodies were consigned to their final resting place.

So multifarious are the uses to which jade is put by the Chinese, and
so great is their admiration of its qualities, that they regard it as
the musical gem _par excellence_. A series of oblong pieces of jade, of
the same length and width, usually about 1.8 feet long and 1.35 feet
wide, and numbering from 12 to 24, constitute a chime, the difference
in the notes emitted by the material when sharply struck depending
upon the varying thickness of the separate pieces. What is designated
the “stone chime” used in court and religious ceremonials, is composed
of 16 undecorated stones, while a series known as the singers’ chime
consists of from 12 to 24 pieces carved into fantastic shapes. This
use of jade for the production of musical sounds dates far back in
the Chinese annals. We are told that when Confucius was much troubled
at the ill-success of his efforts to reform the Chinese morals of his
day, he sought consolation in playing on the “musical stone.” A peasant
who noted this in passing by, exclaimed, as he heard the sounds: “Full
indeed is the heart of him who beats the musical stone like that!”[107]

A jade ornament greatly favored by the Maoris of New Zealand bore
the name _hei-tiki_ (“a carved image for the neck”). The ornaments of
this class are very rude and grotesque representations of the human
face or form, and were generally regarded as schematically figuring
some departed ancestor. The head sometimes slanted right or left,
so that the eyes, which were very large and occasionally inlaid
with mother-of-pearl, were on an angle of forty-five degrees. These
ornaments were prized not only as memorials, but because, having
been worn by successive ancestors, they were supposed to communicate
something of the very being of those ancestors to such descendants as
were privileged to wear the treasured heirloom in their turn. In many
cases, when the family was dying out, the last male member would leave
directions that his _hei-tiki_ should be buried with him, so that it
might not fall into the hands of strangers.[108]

So rare was this New Zealand jade, known to the Maoris as _punamu_
(green-stone), that the aid of a _tohunga_, or wizard, was regarded
as necessary to learn where it could be found. On setting forth on
a search for this material, the jade-seekers would take with them a
_tohunga_, and when the party reached the region where jade was usually
found the _tohunga_ would retire to some solitary spot and would fall
into a trance. On awaking he would claim that the spirit of some
person, dead or living, had appeared to him and had directed to search
in a particular place for the jade. He would then conduct the party
to this place, where a larger or smaller piece of jade was invariably
found. Of course the wizard had previously assured himself of the
presence of the stone in the place indicated.

To this jade was given the name of the man whose spirit had revealed
its location, and in many cases the grotesque form given to the stone
was conceived to represent this man. We can easily understand the
reverence accorded to the _hei-tikis_ when we consider that they
were not only prized as heirlooms, which had been handed down by the
successive heads of the family, but were also believed to have been
originally found in such a mysterious way.

When the head of the family died, his _hei-tiki_ was generally buried
with his body, but was exhumed after a shorter or longer time by the
nearest male relative. As we have noted, if no representative of the
family remained, the heirloom was allowed to remain in the grave. The
fact that tribal or intertribal feuds sometimes arose in regard to
the possession of a _hei-tiki_ serves to prove the peculiar virtues
ascribed to them.

While there can be little doubt that the heirloom was supposed to
represent, in a very general way, the person whose name it bore, the
particular form given it was largely determined by the natural shape
of the mass, which was slowly and patiently fashioned into the form it
eventually acquired. Though this was mainly due to the imperfect means
of which the artist disposed, there was probably a conviction that
the form of the natural stone was not the result of accident, but was
in itself significant and required only to be rendered more clear and
definite. The fabrication of the _hei-tikis_ of the Maoris is said to
have ceased in the early part of the last century. The greater number
of those that have been collected in New Zealand appear to have been
made from one hundred to one hundred and fifty years ago.[109]


Jasper

The jasper had great repute in ancient times as a rain-bringer, and
the fourth century author of “Lithica” celebrates this quality in the
following lines:[110]

The gods propitious hearken to his prayers,
Whoe’er the polished grass-green jasper wears;
His parched glebe they’ll satiate with rain,
And send for showers to soak the thirsty plain.

Evidently the green hue of this translucent stone suggested its
association with the verdure of the fields in an even closer degree
than was the case with transparent green stones such as the emerald,
etc. Another early authority, Damigeron, mentions this belief, and
states that only when properly consecrated would the jasper do service
in this way.[111] Jasper was also credited in the fourth century with
the virtue of driving away evil spirits and protecting those who wore
it from the bites of venomous creatures.[112] An anonymous German
author of the eleventh or twelfth century recommends the use of this
stone for the cure of snake bites, and states that if it be placed upon
the bitten part the matter will come out from the wound.[113] Here the
cure is operated, not by the absorbent quality of the stone, but by its
supposed power to attract poison or venom to itself, thus removing the
cause of disease.

A popular etymology of the Greek and Latin name for jasper is reported
by Bartolomæus Anglicus, who writes that “in the head of an adder that
hyght Aspis is founde a lytyl stone that is called Jaspis.” The same
authority pronounces this stone to be of “wunder vertue,” and says
that “it hath as many vertues as dyvers coloures and veines.”[114]
This is fully in accord with tradition, for, as color was at least as
important as chemical composition in determining the talismanic or
therapeutic worth of the different stones, the great variety of colors
and markings in the different jaspers naturally indicated their use in
many different ways.


Jet

Jet has been found among the palæolithic remains in the caves of the
“Kesslerloch,” near Thayngen, Canton Schaffhausen, Switzerland. The
material was evidently derived from the deposits in Würtemberg and
was shaped by flint chips. Quite possibly jet, as well as amber, was
already regarded as possessing a certain talismanic virtue. Such
ornaments, when worn, were believed to become a part of the very
body and soul of the wearer, and were therefore to be guarded with
jealous care.[115] In the palæolithic cave-deposits of Belgium also,
jet appears, the supply being in this instance derived from northern
Lorraine. The fragments had been rounded and pierced through the
centre.[116] This indicates their use as parts of a necklace or as
pendants. Necklaces, bracelets, and rings were especially favored for
the wearing of talismanic gems, since the stones could easily be so set
that they would come in direct contact with the skin.

Jet was one of the materials used by the Pueblo Indians for their
amulets. An exceptionally well-executed figure of a frog made of
this material was found in Pueblo Bonito, in 1896, by Mr. Pepper.
The representation is much more realistic than is the case in the
other figures of this type from this region. Turquoise eyes have been
inserted in the head of the figure and a band of turquoise surrounds
the neck.[117]


Lapis-Lazuli

Both in Babylonia and in Egypt, lapis-lazuli was very highly valued,
and this is shown by the use of its Assyrian name (_uknu_) in poetic
metaphor. Thus, in a hymn to the moon-god Sin, he is addressed as the
“strong bull, great of horns, perfect in form, with long flowing beard,
bright as lapis-lazuli.”[118] This may remind us of the “hyacinthine
locks” of classical literature.

Lapis-lazuli, “a blue stone with little golden spots,” was a cure for
melancholy and for the “quartern fever,” an intermittent fever
returning each third day, or each fourth day counting in the previous
attack.[119]

Loadstone

We have the authority of Plato (Ion, 533 D) for the statement that the
word _magnetis_ was first applied to the loadstone by the tragic poet
Euripides (480-405 B.C.), the more usual name being “the Heraclean
stone.” These designations refer to two places in Lydia, Magnesia and
Herakleia, where the mineral was found.[120] Pliny states, on the
authority of Nicander, that a certain Magnes, a shepherd, discovered
the mineral on Mount Ida, while pasturing his flock, because the nails
of his shoes clung to a piece of it.[121]

We are told by Pliny that Ptolemy Philadelphus (309-247 B.C.), planning
to erect a temple in honor of his sister and wife Arsinoë, called in
the aid of Chirocrates, an Alexandrian architect. The latter engaged
to place therein an iron statue of Arsinoë which should appear to hang
in mid-air without support. However, both the Egyptian king and his
architect died before the design could be realized.[122] This story of
an image held in suspense by means of powerful magnets set in the floor
and roof, and sometimes also in the walls of a temple, is repeated in
a variety of forms by early writers. Of course, there was no real
foundation for such tales, as the thing is altogether impracticable.

The Roman poet Claudian (fifth century A.D.) relates that the priests
of a certain temple, in order to offer a dramatic spectacle to the eyes
of the worshippers, caused two statues to be executed,—one of Mars in
iron, and another of Venus in loadstone. At a special festival these
statues were placed near to each other, and the loadstone drew the iron
to itself. Claudian vividly describes this:

The priests prepare a marriage feast.
Behold a marvel! Instant to her arms
Her eager husband Cythereia charms;
And ever mindful of her ancient fires,
With amorous breath his martial breast inspires;
Lifts the loved weight, close round his helmet twines
Her loving arms, and close embraces joins,
Drawn by the mystic influence from afar.
Flies to the wedded gem the God of War.
The Magnet weds the Steel: the sacred rites
Nature attends, and th’ heavenly pair unites.[123]

There was current as early as the fourth century a curious belief that
a piece of loadstone, if placed beneath the pillow of a sleeping wife,
would act as a touchstone of her virtue. This first appears in the
Alexandrian poem “Lithica,” and it has been thus quaintly Englished by
a fourteenth century translator:

Also magnes is in lyke wyse as adamas; yf it be sett under the heed
of a chaste wyfe, it makyth her sodenly to beclyppe [embrace] her
husbonde; & yf she be a spowse breker, she shall meve her oute of the
bed sodenly by drede of fantasy.[124]

The same writer attempts an explanation of the popular fancy that when
powdered loadstone was thrown upon coals in the four corners of a
house, the inmates would feel as though the house were falling down;
of this he says: “That seemynge is by mevynge [moving] that comyth by
tornynge of the brayn.”[125]

In classical writings the fascination exercised by a very beautiful
woman is sometimes likened to the attractive power of the loadstone,
as notably by Lucian,[126] who says that if such a woman looks at a
man she draws him to her, and leads him whither she will, just as the
loadstone draws the iron. To the same idea is probably due the fact
that in several languages the name given to the loadstone indicates
that its peculiar power was conceived to be a manifestation of the
sympathy or love of one mineral substance for another. This is commonly
believed to be the sense in which we should understand the French
designation _aimant_, namely, as the participle of the verb _aimer_,
“to love”; however, some etymologists prefer to derive the word from
_adamas_, sometimes used in Low Latin for the loadstone, although
properly signifying the diamond. It is certainly worthy of note that in
two such dissimilar languages as Sanskrit and Chinese, the influence of
this idea appears in the names given to the loadstone. In Sanskrit the
word is _chumbaka_ or “the kisser,” and in Chinese _t’ su shi_, or “the
loving-stone.” Chin T’sang Khi, a Chinese author of the eighth century,
wrote that “the loadstone attracts iron just as does a tender mother
when she calls her children to her.”[127]

A rich growth of Mohammedan legends grew up about the exploits of
Alexander the Great, a striking example being given on another page,
and in one of them it is related that the Greek world-conqueror
provided his soldiers with loadstones as a defence against the wiles
of the jinns, or evil spirits; the loadstone, as well as magnetized
iron, being regarded as a sure defence against enchantments and all the
machinations of malignant spirits.[128]

In the East Indies it is said that a king should have a seat of
loadstone at his coronation; probably because the magnetic influence
of the stone was supposed to attract power, favor, and gifts to the
sovereign. But it is not only in the Orient that magnetite is prized
for its talismanic powers, for even in some parts of our own land this
belief is still prevalent. Large quantities of loadstone are found at
Magnet Cove, Arkansas, and it is estimated that from one to three tons
are sold annually to the negroes to be used in the Voodoo ceremonies as
conjuring stones. The material has been found in land used for farming
purposes, and many pieces have been turned up in ploughing for corn;
these vary from the size of a pea to masses weighing from ten to twenty
pounds. They occur in a reddish-brown, sticky soil; their surface is
smooth and brown and they have the appearance of water-worn pebbles.
In July, 1887, an interesting case was tried in Macon, Georgia, where
a negro woman sued a conjuror to recover five dollars which she had
paid him for a piece of loadstone to serve as a charm to bring back
her wandering husband. As the market value of this mineral was only
seventy-five cents a pound, and the piece was very small, weighing but
a few ounces, the judge ordered that the money should be refunded.[129]


Malachite

For some reason not easy to fathom, malachite was considered to be a
talisman peculiarly appropriate for children. If a piece of this stone
were attached to an infant’s cradle, all evil spirits were held aloof
and the child slept soundly and peacefully.[130] In some parts of
Germany, malachite shared with turquoise the repute of protecting the
wearer from danger in falling, and it also gave warning of approaching
disaster by breaking into several pieces.[131] This material was well
known to the ancient Egyptians, malachite mines having been worked
between Suez and Sinai as early as 4000 B.C.

The appropriate design to be engraved upon malachite was the image of
the sun. Such a gem became a powerful talisman and protected the wearer
from enchantments, from evil spirits, and from the attacks of venomous
creatures.[132] The sun, as the source of all light, was generally
regarded as the deadly enemy of necromancers, witches, and demons, who
delighted in the darkness and feared nothing more than the bright light
of day.


Moonstone

The moonstone is believed to bring good fortune and is regarded as a
sacred stone in India. It is never displayed for sale there, except on
a yellow cloth, as yellow is an especially sacred color. As a gift for
lovers the moonstone takes a high rank, for it is believed to arouse
the tender passion, and to give lovers the power to read in the future
the fortune, good or ill, that is in store for them. To gain this
knowledge, however, the stone must be placed in the mouth while the
moon is full.[133]

Antoine Mizauld[134] tells us of a selenite or moonstone owned by a
friend of his, a great traveller. This stone, about the size of the
gold piece known as the gold noble, but somewhat thicker, indicated
the waxing and waning of the moon by a certain white point or mark
which grew larger or smaller as did the moon. Mizauld relates that to
convince himself of the truth of this he obtained possession of the
stone for one lunar month, during which time he sedulously observed
it. The white mark first appeared at the top. It was like a small
millet-seed, increasing in size and moving down on the stone, always
assuming the form of the moon until, on reaching the middle, it was
round like the full moon; then the mark gradually passed up again
as the moon diminished. The owner declared that he had “vowed and
dedicated this stone to the young king [Edward VI], who was then highly
esteemed because he had good judgment in regard to rare and precious
things.”


Onyx

The onyx, if worn on the neck, was said to cool the ardors of love,
and Cardano relates that everywhere in India the stone was worn
for this purpose.[135] This belief is closely related to the idea
commonly associated with the onyx,—namely, that it provoked discord
and separated lovers. The close union and yet the strange contrast
between the layers of black and white may have suggested this.

Pyrites

Crystals of iron pyrites (pyrite, native iron disulphide) are sometimes
used as amulets by the North American Indians, and the belief in
their magic power is attested by their presence in the outfit of
miscellaneous objects which the medicine-men use in the course of their
incantations. Because these gleaming yellow crystals are occasionally
mistaken for gold, the name “fool’s gold” has been popularly bestowed
upon them.[136]

Of this material the ancient Mexicans made wonderful mirrors, one
side being usually polished flat, while the other side was strongly
convex. Frequently this side was curiously carved with some symbolic
representation as appears in the case of a pyrite mirror of the Pinard
collection in the Trocadéro, Paris.[137]


Rock-crystal

The popular belief in his time as to the origin of rock-crystal is
voiced by St. Jerome, when, using the words of Pliny, although not
citing his authority, he says that it was formed by the congelation
of water in dark caverns of the mountains, where the temperature
was intensely cold, so that, “While a stone to the touch, it seems
like water to the eye.” This belief was evidently due to the fact
that rock-crystal was so often found in mountain clefts and caverns.
Symbolically, it signified that those within the portals of the Church
should keep themselves free from stain and have a pure faith.[138]

The Chinese emperor Wu was devoted to the service of the gods and of
the immortal spirits. He built many edifices for religious purposes,
and all the doors of these buildings were made of white rock-crystal,
so that a flood of light poured into the interior. Although the Chinese
texts call this material rock-crystal, it is possible that the name was
applied to glass when that substance was but recently introduced into
China.[139]

Regarding this same “rock-crystal” a humorous tale is related.
Muan-fen, a mandarin who had a great terror of draughts, was once
received in the palace by one of the Chinese emperors. The doors of the
audience chamber were of rock-crystal and were tightly closed, but,
because of the transparency of the material, they seemed to be wide
open, and the emperor was greatly amused to note that Muan-fen was
shivering with cold, although the temperature of the room was quite
comfortable.[140]

An exceptionally fine specimen of Aztec work is a skull carved out of
rock-crystal. It weighs 475¼ ounces Troy, and measures 8¼ inches
in width.


Ruby

The ruby has many names in Sanskrit, some of them clearly showing that
it was more valued as a gem by the Hindus than any other. For instance,
it is called _ratnaraj_, “king of precious stones,” and _ratnanâyaka_,
“leader of precious stones;” another name, applied to a particular
shade of ruby is _padmarâga_, “red as the lotus.”[141]

The glowing hue of the ruby suggested the idea that an inextinguishable
flame burned in this stone. From this fancy came the assertion that the
inner fire could not be hidden, as it would shine through the clothing
or through any material that might be wrapped around the stone.[142]
If cast into the water the ruby communicated its heat to the liquid,
causing it to boil. The dark and the star rubies were called “male”
stones, the others, more especially, however, those of lighter hue,
being considered as “female” stones. All varieties served to preserve
the bodily and mental health of the wearer, for they removed evil
thoughts, controlled amorous desires, dissipated pestilential vapors,
and reconciled disputes.[143]

In the “Lapidaire” of Philippe de Valois, it is said that “the books
tell us the beautiful clear and fine ruby is the lord of stones; it is
the gem of gems, and surpasses all other precious stones in virtue.” In
the time of Marbodus (end of the eleventh century A.D.) the same proud
place was assigned to the sapphire. The ruby is spoken of in similar
terms in the “Lapidaire en Vers,” where it is called “the most precious
of the twelve stones God created when He created all creatures”. By
Christ’s command the ruby was placed on Aaron’s neck, “the ruby, called
the lord of gems; the highly prized, the dearly loved ruby, so fair
with its gay color.”[144]

As with diamonds, rubies also were divided by the Hindus into four
castes. The true Oriental ruby was a Brahmin; the rubicelle, a
Kshatriya; the spinel, a Vaisya, and lastly, the balas-ruby, a Sudra.
The possession of a _padmarâga_, or Brahmin ruby, conferred perfect
safety upon the owner, and as long as he owned this precious stone he
could dwell without fear in the midst of enemies and was shielded
from adverse fortune. However, great care had to be taken to preserve
this ruby of the first class from contact with inferior specimens,
as its virtue would thereby be contaminated, and its power for good
correspondingly diminished.[145]

The many talismanic virtues of the ruby are noted in the fourteenth
century treatise attributed to Sir John Mandeville.[146] Here the
fortunate owner of a brilliant ruby is assured that he will live in
peace and concord with all men, that neither his land nor his rank will
be taken from him, and that he will be preserved from all perils. The
stone would also guard his house, his fruit-trees, and his vineyards
from injury by tempests. All the good effects were most surely secured
if the ruby, set in ring, bracelet, or brooch, were worn on the left
side.

The gorgeous ruby, the favorite gem of Burma, where the finest
specimens are found, is not only valued for its beauty, but is also
believed to confer invulnerability. To attain this end, however, it is
not thought to be sufficient to wear these stones in a ring or other
piece of jewelry, but the stone must be inserted in the flesh, and thus
become, so to speak, a part of its owner’s body. Those who in this way
bear about with them a ruby, confidently believe that they cannot be
wounded by spear, sword, or gun.[147] As it is often remarked that the
most daring and reckless soldiers pass unscathed through all the perils
of war, we can understand that this superstition may sometimes appear
to be verified.


Sapphire

The sapphire is noted as a regal gem by Damigeron, who asserts that
kings wore it about their necks as a powerful defence from harm. The
stone preserved the wearer from envy and attracted divine favor.[148]
For royal use, sapphires were set in bracelets and necklaces, and
the sacred character of the stone was attested by the tradition
that the Law given to Moses on the Mount was engraved on tablets of
sapphire.[149] While we should probably translate here “lapis-lazuli”
instead of “sapphire,” all such passages were later understood as
referring to the true sapphire, which is not found in pieces of the
requisite size.

In the twelfth century, the Bishop of Rennes lavishes encomiums upon
this beautiful stone. It is quite natural that this writer should lay
especial stress upon the use of the sapphire for the adornment of
rings, for it was in his time that it was beginning to be regarded
as the stone most appropriate for ecclesiastical rings. The sapphire
was like the pure sky, and mighty Nature had endowed it with so great
a power that it might be called sacred and the gem of gems. Fraud
was banished from its presence and necromancers honored it more than
any other stone, for it enabled them to hear and to understand the
obscurest oracles.[150]

The traditional virtue of the sapphire as an antidote against poison
is noted by Bartolomæus Anglicus, who claims to have seen a test of
its power, somewhat similar to that recorded by Ahmed Teifashi of
the emerald. In John of Trevisa’s version this passage reads as
follows:[151]

His vertue is contrary to venym, and quencheth it every deale. And yf
you put an attercoppe[152] in a boxe and hold a very saphyre of Inde
at the mouth of the boxe ony whyle, by vertue thereof the attercoppe
is overcome & dyeth as it were sodenly, as Dyasc. sayth [pseudo
Dioscorides]. And this same I have assayed oft in many and dyvers
places. His vertue kepeth and savyth the syght, & clearyth eyen of
fylthe wythout ony greyf.

Voicing the general belief that the sapphire was endowed with power
to influence spirits, Bartolomæus says that this stone was a great
favorite with those who practised necromancy, and he adds: “Also
wytches love well this stone, for they wene that they may werke certen
wondres by vertue of this stone.”[153]

There was in the South Kensington Museum, in London, a splendid
sapphire of a peculiar tint. In the daylight it shows a beautiful rich
blue color, while by artificial light it has a violet hue and resembles
an amethyst. In the eighteenth century this stone was in the collection
of Count de Walicki, a Polish nobleman, and Mme. de Genlis used it as
the theme of one of her stories, entitled “Le Saphire Merveilleux.”
Here the sapphire is used as a test of female virtue, the change of
color indicating unfaithfulness on the part of the wearer. If the owner
of the stone wished to prove that the subject of the test was innocent,
she was made to wear the sapphire for three hours of daylight; but in
the opposite case the test was so timed that it began in daylight and
ended when the candles or lamps had been lighted. This sapphire, still
known as the “Saphire Merveilleux,” was for a time in the collection of
the Duke of Orleans, who bore the name of Philippe Egalité during the
French Revolution.

The star sapphire is that variety of sapphire in which, when the stone
is cut and rounded off horizontal with the dome of the crystal, the
light is condensed across the three lines of crystalline interference.
Three cross lines produce a star which moves as a source of light, or
as it is moved from the source of light. Star sapphires very rarely
possess the deep blue color of the fine blue sapphire; generally the
color is somewhat impure, or of a milky-blue, or else a blue-gray, or
sometimes almost a pure white. The blue-gray, gray, and white stones
frequently show a much more distinct star, possibly from the fact that
there are more inclusions between the layers of the crystals than with
the darker blue stones, as it is the set of interference bands that
produces the peculiar light. Just as the eye agate was used in some
countries to preserve against the Evil Eye, so the moving star is
believed by the Cingalese to serve as a protection and a guard against
witchcraft of all kinds.

The great Oriental traveller, Sir Richard Francis Burton, had a large
star sapphire or asteria, as it was called. He referred to it as his
talisman, for it always brought him good horses and prompt attention
wherever he went; in fact, it was only in those places where he
received proper attention that he would show it to the natives, a favor
they greatly appreciated, because the sight of the stone was believed
to bring good luck. The fame of Burton’s asteria travelled ahead of
him, and it served him well as a guiding-star. De Boot, writing in the
seventeenth century, states that such a stone was called Siegstein
(victory-stone) among the Germans.

The remarkable asteria, known as the “Star of India,” in the
Morgan-Tiffany Collection in the American Museum of Natural History,
has a more or less indefinite historic record of some three centuries,
but after its many wanderings it has now found a worthy resting-place
in the great Museum. Its weight is 543 carats.[154]

The asteria, or star sapphire, might be called a “Stone of Destiny,”
as the three cross-bars which traverse it are believed to represent
Faith, Hope, and Destiny. As the stone is moved, or the light changes,
a living star appears. As a guiding gem, warding off ill omen and
the Evil Eye, the star-sapphire is worn for the same reasons as were
the _oculus mundi_ and the _oculus Beli_. One of the most unique of
talismanic stones, it is said to be so potent that it continues to
exercise its good influence over the first wearer even when it has
passed into other hands.


Sard

The sard was regarded as a protection against incantations and sorcery,
and was believed to sharpen the wits of the wearer, rendering him
fearless, victorious, and happy.[155] The red hue of this stone was
supposed to neutralize the malign influence of the dark onyx, driving
away the bad dreams caused by the latter and dispelling the melancholy
thoughts it inspired.


Serpentine

The Italian peasants of to-day believe that pebbles of green serpentine
afford protection from the bites of venomous creatures. These stones
are usually green with streaks or veins of white, and the name was
derived from their fancied resemblance to a serpent’s skin. In addition
to their prophylactic powers, if any one has been bitten by such a
creature, the stone, when applied to the wound, is supposed to draw out
the poison. Here, as in the case of coral, the hand of man must not
have shaped the amulet; it should be in its natural state. As a general
rule, however, the belief that the touch of any iron instrument, such
as the tool of the gem-cutter, destroys the magic efficacy of the
substance, is less firmly held in regard to stones than in reference to
coral.[156]


Topaz

See Chrysolite.


Turquoise

While there was a tendency to attribute the virtues originally ascribed
to one particular stone to others of the same or similar color and
appearance, certain stones were regarded as possessing special virtues
not commonly attributed to others. A notable instance of this is the
quality supposed to inhere in the turquoise. This stone was known in
Egypt from a very early period and is later described by Pliny under
the name of _callais_. For Pliny, and for all those who derived their
information from him or from the sources he used, the turquoise only
participated in the virtues assigned to all blue or greenish-blue
stones; but from the thirteenth century, when the name turquoise was
first employed, we read that the stone possessed the power to protect
the wearer from injury by falling, more especially from horseback;
later, this was extended to cover falls from a building or over a
precipice. A fourteenth century authority, the “Lapidaire” of Sir
John Mandeville, states that the turquoise protected horses from the
ill-effects resulting from drinking cold water when overheated by
exertion, and it is said that the Turks often attached these stones
to the bridles and frontlets of their horses as amulets. They are
also so used in Samarcand and Persia. We might therefore be justified
in supposing that the turquoise was originally used in the East as a
“horse-amulet,” and the belief in its power to protect from falls may
have arisen from the idea that it rendered the horse more sure-footed
and enduring. As the horse was often regarded as a symbol of the sun
in its rapid course through the blue heavens, the celestial hue of the
turquoise may have caused it to be associated in some way with the
horse. We can only hazard this as a plausible conjecture.

Probably the earliest notice of the peculiar superstition in regard to
the turquoise—namely, that it preserves the wearer from injury in case
of falling—is contained in Volmar’s thirteenth century “Steinbuch,”
where we read:

Whoever owns the true turquoise set in gold will not injure any of his
limbs when he falls, whether he be riding or walking, so long as he
has the stone with him.[157]

Anselmus de Boot, court physician of Emperor Rudolph II, tells a
story of a turquoise that, after being thirty years in the possession
of a Spaniard, was offered for sale with the rest of the owner’s
property. Every one was amazed to find it had entirely lost its color;
nevertheless De Boot’s father bought it for a trifling sum. On his
return home, however, ashamed to wear so mean-looking a gem, he gave it
to his son, saying, “Son, as the virtues of the turquoise are said to
exist only when the stone has been given, I will try its efficacy by
bestowing it upon thee.” Little appreciating the gift, the recipient
had his arms engraved on it as though it had been only a common agate
and wore it as a signet. He had scarcely worn it a month, however,
before it resumed its pristine beauty and daily seemed to increase in
splendor. Could we accept this statement as true we would have here an
altogether unique instance of the recovery by a turquoise of the blue
color it had lost.

Not long after, the powers of De Boot’s turquoise were put to the test.
As he was returning to Bohemia from Padua, where he had just taken his
degree, he was forced to traverse a narrow and dangerous road at night.
Suddenly his horse stumbled and threw him heavily to the ground, but,
strange to say, neither horse nor rider was injured by the fall. Next
morning, while washing his hands, De Boot remarked that about a quarter
of his turquoise had broken away. Nevertheless the stone did not lose
its virtue. Some time afterward, when the wearer was lifting a very
heavy pole, he felt all at once a sharp pain in his side and heard
his ribs crack, so that he feared he had injured himself seriously.
However, it turned out that he had not broken any bones but had simply
strained himself; but, on looking at his turquoise, he saw that it had
again broken into two pieces.[158]

A singular virtue ascribed to the turquoise was that of striking the
hour correctly, if the stone were suspended from a thread held between
the thumb and index-finger in such a way that a slight vibration would
make the stone strike against the side of a glass. De Boot states that
he made the experiment successfully, but he very sensibly explains the
apparent wonder by the unconscious effect of the mind on the body. The
expectation that the stone was going to strike a certain number of
times induced an involuntary movement of the hand.[159]

The turquoise seems to have been worn almost exclusively by men at the
beginning of the seventeenth century, for De Boot, writing in 1609,
said that it was so highly regarded by men that no man considered
his hand to be well adorned unless he wore a fine turquoise. Women,
however, rarely wore this gem.[160] This custom was much in vogue among
the Englishmen who travelled in the Orient, until a score of years ago.

The Persians fully appreciate the beauty and power of this, their
national stone, and they have a saying that to escape evil and attain
good fortune one must see the reflection of the new moon either on the
face of a friend, on a copy of the Koran, or on a turquoise,[161] thus
ranking this stone with two most precious things, a friend and the
source and warrant of religion. Possibly we should take this proverbial
saying to indicate that whoever has a true friend, a copy of the sacred
volume or a turquoise will be preserved from harm.

The turquoise of the Los Cerillos mines in New Mexico is rudely
extracted by building large fires at the base of the rock until it
becomes heated, when cold water is dashed over it, the sharp change of
temperature splitting up the rock. Some of the fragmentary material
thus secured is worked up in the region into heart-shaped ornaments, or
amulets, locally called malacates. The religious veneration with which
many of the New Mexico Indians still regard the turquoise was noted
by Major Hyde, when he explored the region in 1880, for some Pueblo
Indians from Santo Domingo, New Mexico, expressed strong disapproval of
his action in extracting turquoise from the old mine, as they looked
upon this as a sacred stone which should not pass into the possession
of those whose Saviour was not a Montezuma.[162]

The ruins called Los Muertos, situated nine miles from Tempe, Arizona,
have furnished a peculiarly interesting amulet or fetish of Zuñi
workmanship. This is a seashell which has been coated with black pitch,
in which are encrusted turquoises and garnets so disposed in mosaic as
to represent clearly enough the figure of a toad, the sacred emblem of
the Zuñis.[163]

The sacred character with which this stone was invested is shown
by the wealth of turquoise ornaments found in some of the burials,
notably in those of Pueblo Bonito, unearthed by Mr. George H. Pepper
in 1896.[164] This is one of the Chaco Cañon groups of ruins, in the
northwestern part of New Mexico. In one case nearly nine thousand beads
and pendants of turquoise were found on or about a single skeleton.
There was abundant evidence in the special care bestowed upon the
burial that the deceased must have been a man of high rank, and the
condition of the skull plainly indicated that he had met a violent
death. The 1980 beads found on the breast of the skeleton are believed
to have been strung as a necklace, and the position of other masses of
these beads renders it probable that they had been used for bracelets
or anklets, the strings having decayed and disappeared in the course of
time. The most interesting of the turquoise objects are, however, the
pendants worked into various forms designed to favor the entrance of
some guardian spirit into the stone. In this single burial were found
pendants shaped more or less roughly into the forms of a rabbit, a
bird, an insect (?), a human foot and a shoe. Around another burial in
the same chamber were strewn nearly six thousand turquoise beads and
pendants.[165] In all 24,932 beads were found in these burials.

Another very interesting object from Pueblo Bonito, and one having
probably a special ceremonial use and value, is a turquoise
basket,—that is to say, a cylindrical basket three inches in diameter
and six inches long, originally made of slender splints with a coating
of gum in which 1214 small pieces of turquoise have been set. These are
very closely set and form a complete mosaic covering for the object.
The legends of the Navahos contain allusions to “turquoise jewel
baskets,” and Mr. Pepper raises the question whether or no this can
refer to those made by the Pueblo Indians.[166]

The Apache name for the turquoise is _duklij_, which signifies either
a green or a blue stone, no distinction being made between the two
colors. This stone is highly prized for its talismanic virtues. Indeed
the possession of a turquoise was indispensable for a medicine-man,
as without it he would not receive proper recognition. That some of
the powers of the thunder-stone were ascribed to the turquoise by
the tribes appears from the fancy that a man who could go to the end
of a rainbow after a storm and search in the damp earth would find a
turquoise. One of its supposed powers was to aid the warrior or hunter
by assuring the accuracy of his aim, for if a turquoise were affixed
to a gun or bow the shot sped from the weapon would go straight to the
mark.[167]

A lady prominent in the London world is said to possess the power
of restoring to their pristine hue turquoises that have grown pale.
According to report, this lady is often called upon to use her peculiar
gift by friends whose turquoises have faded.[168] While the improvement
supposed to be noted may be more imaginary than real in many cases,
there is little doubt that this stone is exceptionally sensitive to the
action of certain emanations, and may, at times, be influenced by the
wearer’s general state of health. The writer believes that a turquoise,
like an egg, can never be restored to its original state.

IV

On the Use of Engraved and Carved Gems as Talismans


The virtue believed to be inherent in precious stones was thought to
gain an added potency when the stone was engraved with some symbol
or figure possessing a special sacredness, or denoting and typifying
a special quality. This presupposes a considerable development of
civilization, since the art of engraving on precious stones offers many
mechanical difficulties and thus requires a high degree of artistic and
mechanical skill. It is true that the earliest engraved stones, the
Babylonian cylinders and the Egyptian scarabs, were both designed to
serve an eminently practical purpose as well, namely, that of seals;
but in a great number of instances these primitive seals were looked
upon as endowed with talismanic power, and were worn on the person as
talismans.

The scarab, so highly favored by the Egyptians as an ornamental form,
is a representation of the _scarabæus sacer_, the typical genus of the
family _Scarabæidæ_. They are usually black, but occasionally show a
fine play of metallic colors. After gathering up a clump of dung for
the reception of the eggs, the insect rolls this along, using the hind
legs to propel it, until the material, at first soft and of irregular
form, becomes hardened and almost perfectly round. A curious symbolism
induced the Egyptians to find in this beetle an emblem of the world of
fatherhood and of man. The round ball wherein the eggs were deposited
typified the world, and, as the Egyptians thought that the scarabæi
were all males, they especially signified the male principle in
generation, becoming types of fatherhood and man. At the same time, as
only full-grown beetles were observed, it was believed these creatures
represented a regeneration or reincarnation, since it was not realized
that the eggs or larval and pupa stages had anything to do with the
generation of the beetle. Thus the scarab was used as a symbol of
immortality.

While, however, this was the popular view, it seems unlikely that such
close observers as were the more cultured Egyptians should have been
entirely unfamiliar with the real genesis of the _Scarabæus sacer_;
but, in this case also, there would have been no difficulty in finding
it emblematic of immortality in the various stages through which it
passed. The larval stage might well signify the mortal life; the pupa
stage, the intermediate period represented by the mummy, with which the
soul was conceived to be vaguely connected, in spite of its wanderings
through the nether-world; and, lastly, the fully developed beetle
could be regarded as a type of the rebirth into everlasting life,
when the purified and perfected soul again animated the original and
transfigured form in a mysterious resurrection.

Scarabs are frequently engraved with the hieroglyph ☥(_anch_, “life”)
and [hieroglyph] (_ha_, “increase of power”). The emblem of stability
[hieroglyph] (_tet_) is also employed, as well as many others. In
addition to these simple symbols, many scarabs bear legends supposed
to render them exceptionally luck-bringing. The following are
characteristic specimens.[169]

_maat ankh neb_, “Lord of Truth and Life.”

“abounding in graces” (very deeply cut as a seal).

“May thy name be established; mayst thou have a son.”

(within ornamental border), “good stability.”

_ikht neb nefer_, “All good things.”

(Inlaid). “A good day” (a holiday).

“A mother is a truly good thing” or “Truth is a good Mother.”

The scarab, for the Egyptians a type of the rising sun and hence of
the renewal of life after death, was copied by the Phœnicians from
the Egyptian types and modified in various ways to suit the religious
fancies of the various lands to which they bore the products of their
art. Much of the original significance of this symbol must have been
lost; probably in many cases little was left but a vague idea that an
amulet of this form would bring good luck to the wearer and guard from
harm.

Funeral scarabs were often made of jasper, amethyst, lapis-lazuli,
ruby, or carnelian, with the names of gods, kings, priests, officials,
or private persons engraved on the base; occasionally monograms or
floral devices were engraved. Sometimes the base of the scarab was
heart-shaped and at others the scarab was combined with the “utat,” or
eye of Horus, and also with the frog, typifying revivification. Set in
rings they were placed on the fingers of the dead, or else, wrapped in
linen bandages, they rested on the heart of the deceased, a type of
the sun which rose each day to renewed life. They were symbols of the
resurrection of the body.[170]

Some of the Egyptian scarabs were evidently used as talismanic gifts
from one friend to another. Two such scarabs are in the collection of
the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. One bears the inscription
“May Ra grant you a happy New Year,” the text of the other reading as
follows: “May your name be established, may you have a son,” and “May
your house flourish every day.” It is a curious fact that the modern
greeting “Happy New Year” was current in Egypt probably three thousand
years ago.[171]

On the Egyptian inscribed scarabs used as signets were engraved many
of the symbols to which a talismanic virtue was attributed. The uræus
serpent, signifying death, is sometimes associated with the knot, the
so-called _ankh_ symbol, denoting life. Often the hieroglyph for _nub_,
gold, appears; this symbol is a necklace with pendant beads, showing
that gold beads must have been known in Egypt in the early days when
the hieroglyph for gold was first used. All these symbolic figures, of
which a great number occur, served to impart to the signet a sacred and
auspicious quality which communicated itself to the wearer, and even to
the impression made by the seal, this in its turn acquiring a certain
magic force. Few of us would be willing to confess to a belief in the
innate power of any symbol, but the suggestive power of a symbol is as
real to-day as it ever was. Any object that evokes a high thought or
serves to emphasize a profound conviction really possesses a kind of
magical quality, since it is capable of causing an effect out of all
proportion to its intrinsic worth or its material quality.

Many scarabs and signets exist made of the artificial _cyanus_,
which was an imitation lapis-lazuli made in Egypt. This was an
alkaline silicate, colored a deep blue with carbonate of copper.
Often a wonderful translucent or opaque blue glass was used. The
genuine lapis-lazuli was also used to a considerable extent for
scarabs and cylinders, in Egypt and Assyria, and gems were also cut
from it in imperial Roman times.[172] A notable instance of the use
of lapis-lazuli in ancient Egypt was as the material for the image
of Truth (_Ma_), which the Egyptian chief-justice wore on his neck,
suspended from a golden chain.[173]

In Roman times some of the legionaries are said to have worn rings set
with scarabs, for the reason that this figure was believed to impart
great courage and vigor to the wearer.[174]

The Egyptian amulets of the earliest period, up to the XII dynasty
(circa 2000 B.C.), differ considerably from those made and worn after
the beginning of the XVIII dynasty (1580 B.C.). Those of the earlier
period are not numerous and present but a small number of types, animal
forms or the heads of animals constituting the most favored models.
The precious stone materials are principally carnelian, beryl, and
amethyst. After the close of the so-called Hyksos period, the age
during which foreign kings ruled over Egypt, came the brilliant revival
and development of Egyptian civilization that characterized the XVIII
dynasty. Some of the old forms were entirely cast aside while others
were greatly modified in form and significance, the animal forms losing
much of their fetichistic quality and coming to be more and more
regarded as images of the multifarious divinities worshipped in this
later period. In many cases the animal type was entirely or partially
discarded and the amulets figured the conventional types given to the
various divinities. However, while some of these images were wholly
human, many of them show a human body with an animal head. Various
symbolic designs were also favored, one believed to signify the blood
of Isis having the form of a knot or tie. A frog fashioned out of
lapis-lazuli and having eyes of gold is one of these amulets of the
XVIII dynasty or later.

An interesting Egyptian talisman in the Louvre is engraved with a
design representing Thothmes II seizing a lion by the tail and raising
the animal aloft; at the same time he brandishes in the other hand
a club, with which he is about to dash out the lion’s brains. The
Egyptian word _quen_, “strength,” is engraved beneath the design and
indicates that the virtue of the talisman was to increase the strength
and courage of the wearer, the inscription being a kind of perpetual
invocation to the higher powers whose aid was sought.[175]

The children of Israel, when in the desert, were said to have engraved
figures on carnelian, “just as seals are engraved.”[176] This
statement, repeated by many early writers, may perhaps have arisen from
an identification of carnelian with the first stone of the breastplate,
the _odem_, unquestionably a red stone, and very possibly carnelian.
There can be no doubt that this was one of the first stones used for
ornamental purposes and for engraving, as a number of specimens have
been preserved from early Egyptian times. Because of the cooling and
calming effect exercised by carnelian upon the blood, if worn on the
neck or on the finger, it was believed to still all angry passions.[177]

A class of amulets even older than the Egyptian scarabs is represented
by the engraved Assyrio-Babylonian cylinders. There has been much
discussion among scholars as to the original purpose for which these
cylinders were made, some holding that they were exclusively employed
as seals or signets, while others incline to the belief that many of
them were intended only for use as amulets or talismans.

These cylinders are perforated and were worn suspended from the neck or
wrist, as is most frequently the case with talismans, and the engraved
designs often represent religious or mythological subjects, the
accompanying inscription merely consisting of the names of the gods.
Cylinders of this type could not have been used as personal signets,
and it is quite possible that Dr. Wiedemann is right in supposing
that their imprint on a document was considered to impart a certain
mystic sanction to the agreement, and render the divinities or spirits
accountable for the fulfilment of the contract.[178]

The oldest known form of seal is the cylinder. Babylonian and Assyrian
cylinder-seals are known of a date as early as 4000 B.C. From the
earliest period until 2500 B.C. they were made of black or green
serpentine, conglomerate, diorite, and frequently of the central
core of a large conch shell from the Persian Gulf. From 2500 B.C.
to 500 B.C. the cylindrical form was prevalent, and the materials
include a brick-red ferruginous quartz, red hematite (an iron ore),
and chalcedony, a beautiful variety of the last-named stone known as
sapphirine being sometimes used. On the cylinders produced from 4000
B.C. to 2500 B.C. the designs most frequently represent animal forms;
on those dating from 2500 B.C. to 500 B.C. are generally inscribed
five or six rows of cuneiform characters. Up to the last-named date
the work was all done by the sapphire point, and not by the wheel, and
it is not until the fifth century B.C. that wheel work is apparent in
any Babylonian or Assyrian stone-engraving. In the course of the sixth
century B.C. the cylindrical seals became less frequent, and the tall
cone-like seals came into use.[179]

A new type makes its appearance about the fifth or sixth century B.C.,
namely, the scaraboid seal introduced from Egypt. From the third
century B.C. until the second or third century A.D., the seals became
lower and flatter, and the perforation larger, until they sometimes
assumed the form of rings; later the ring form becomes general. They
are usually hollowed a little in the middle, which gives them the shape
and size of the lower short joints of a reed; indeed, it has been
suggested that the original seal was rudely patterned after a reed
joint. The materials used for these cylinders include lapis-lazuli,
very freely used and probably from the Persian mines, jasper,
rock-crystals, chalcedony, carnelian, agate, jade, etc.; a hard, black
variety of serpentine is perhaps the most common of all the materials
used for this purpose.[180]

A good example of these talismanic cylinders shows the figure of the
god Nebo, seated on a throne and holding a ring in his left hand.
Before him are two altars, over which appear, respectively, a star
and the crescent moon; in front of the god is the figure of a man in
an attitude of adoration. Borsippa, where the cylinder was found, was
the special seat of the worship of Nebo, whose name appears in those
of the kings Nebuchadnezzar, Nebopalasser, and Nabonaid. Regarded
as the inventor of writing and as the god of learning, Nebo was the
lord of the planet Mercury, and this shows a close connection between
Babylonian and Græco-Roman ideas in reference to the god associated
with that planet. Nebo was also believed to be the orderer of times
and seasons, and this character is indicated by the star and the
crescent.[181]

The Cretan peasants of to-day set a high value upon certain very
ancient seals—dating perhaps from as early as 2500 B.C.—which they
find buried in the soil. These seals are inscribed with symbols
supposed to represent the prehistoric Cretan form of writing. Of
course these inscriptions, which have not yet been deciphered by
archæologists, are utterly incomprehensible for the peasants, but they
undoubtedly serve to render the stones objects of mystery. The peasants
call them _galopetræ_, or “milk-stones,” and they are supposed to
promote the secretion of milk, as was the case with the galactite.[182]
The careful preservation of these so-called _galopetræ_ by Cretan women
has served the purpose of archæological research, as otherwise so large
a supply of these very interesting seals would not now be available.

Many engraved stones of the Roman imperial period bore the figures
of Serapis and of Isis, the former signifying Time and the latter
Earth. On other stones the symbols of the zodiacal signs appear,
referring to the natal constellation of the wearer. The astrologers,
who derived their lore from the Orient, were consulted by all classes
of the Roman people, and it is therefore very natural that the signet,
or the ring worn as an amulet, should frequently have been engraved
with astrological symbols. These designs were usually engraved on
onyxes, carnelians, and similar stones, in Greek and Roman times; but
occasionally the emerald was used in this way, and more rarely the
ruby or the sapphire. Here the costliness of the material was probably
thought to enhance the value of the amulet. The emerald ring of
Polycrates must have possessed some other than a purely artistic value
in his eyes, when it could be regarded by him as the most precious of
his possessions.

In Roman times the image of Alexander the Great was looked upon as
possessing magic virtues, and it is related that when Cornelius
Macer gave a splendid banquet in the temple of Hercules, the chief
ornament of the table was an amber cup, in the midst of which was a
portrait of Alexander, and around this his whole history figured in
small, finely engraved representations. From this cup Macer drank to
the health of the pontifex and then ordered that it should be passed
around among the guests, so that each one might gaze upon the image
of the great man. Pollio, relating this, states that it was a common
belief that everything happened fortunately for those who bore with
them Alexander’s portrait executed in gold or silver.[183] Indeed, even
among Christians coins of Alexander were in great favor as amulets, and
the stern John Chrysostom sharply rebukes those who wore bronze coins
of this monarch attached to their heads and their feet.[184]

Nowhere in the world was the use of amulets so common as in Alexandria,
especially in the first centuries of our era, and the types produced
here were scattered far and wide throughout the Roman world. Amulets
made from various colored stones had been used for religious purposes
in Egypt from the very earliest period of its history, so that the
custom was deeply rooted in that land. When, therefore, Alexandria was
founded in the fourth century B.C., and became a great commercial
centre, attracting men of all races and all religions, it is not
surprising that the population eagerly adopted the various amulets
used by the adherents of the different religions. The result was a
combining and confusion of many different types. With the rapid rise
and growth of the Christian religion, a new element was introduced.
Unquestionably the leading Christian teachers were strongly opposed to
such superstitious practices, but the rank and file of the faithful
clung to their old fancies.

In the second century the Gnostic heresy gave a new impulse to the
fabrication of amulets. This strange eclecticism, resulting from
an interweaving of pagan and Christian ideas, with its complicated
symbolism, much of which is almost incomprehensible, found expression
in the creation of the most bizarre types of amulets, and the magic
virtues of the curious designs was enhanced by inscriptions purposely
obscure. The incomprehensible always seems to have a mysterious charm
for those devoted to the magic arts, and the adepts willingly catered
to this taste, so that we can often only guess at the signification of
the words and names engraved upon the Gnostic or Basilidian gems. So
widespread was their use throughout the Roman Empire, that there were
factories entirely devoted to the production of these objects.[185]

Regarding the sacred name Abrasax, which was inscribed on so many
Gnostic gems, we read in St. Augustine’s treatise De hæres., vi,
“Basilides asserted that there were 365 heavens; it was for this reason
that he regarded the name Abrasax as sacred and venerable.”

According to the Greek notation the letters comprising this name give
that number:

α = 1
β = 2
ρ = 100
α = 1
σ = 200
α = 1
ξ = 60
—-—
365

It is, however, not unlikely that the 365 days in the solar year
are signified; and this enigmatical name might thus be brought into
connection with Mithra, the solar divinity, who was worshipped
throughout the Persian and Roman empires in the first and second
centuries of our era.

A very recondite but ingenious explanation of the Gnostic name Abrasax
is given by Harduin in his notes to Pliny’s “Natural History.”[186]
He sees in the first three letters the initials of the three Hebrew
words signifying father, son, and spirit (_ab_, _ben_, _ruah_), the
Triune God; the last four letters are the initials of the Greek words
ἀνθρώπους σώζει ἁγίῳ ξύλῳ or “he saves men by the sacred wood” (the
cross). This seems rather far-fetched, it must be confessed, and yet
to any one familiar with the vagaries of Alexandrine eclecticism, and
with the tendency of the time and place to make strange and uncouth
combinations of Greek and Hebrew forms, there is nothing inherently
improbable in the explanation. Indeed, the Hebrew and Greek words
in this composite sentence might have been regarded as typifying
the union of the Old and New Testaments, and such an acrostic would
certainly have been looked upon as possessing a mystic and supernatural
power.

Many explanations have been offered as to the origin and significance
of the characteristic figure of the Abrasax god engraved on a number
of Gnostic amulets. There seems to be no doubt that this figure was
invented by Basilides, chief of the Gnostic sect bearing his name, and
who flourished in the early part of the second century A.D. While the
details of the type as perfected were undoubtedly borrowed from the
eclectic symbolism of the Egyptian and western Asiatic world it is
almost impossible to conjecture the reasons determining the selection
of this particular form.

A jasper engraved with the famous Gnostic symbol was set in the ring
worn by Seffrid, Bishop of Chichester (A.D. 1159). This ring was found
on the skeleton of the bishop and is now preserved in the treasury of
the Cathedral of Chichester. Undoubtedly the curious symbolic figure
was given a perfectly orthodox meaning, and, indeed, it was not really
a pagan symbol, as the Gnostics were “indifferent Christians,” although
their system was a fanciful elaboration of the doctrines of the late
Alexandrian school of Greek Philosophy and an adaptation of this to the
teachings of Christian tradition. In many cases, however, gems with
purely pagan designs were worn by Christians, designs such as Isis with
the child Horus, which was taken to be the Virgin Mary with the infant
Jesus.

A curious amulet, apparently belonging to the Gnostic variety, and
intended to bring success to the owner of a racehorse, is now in the
collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in New York. The material
is green jasper with red spots. On the obverse the horse is figured
with the victor’s palm and the name Tiberis; on the reverse appears
the vulture-headed figure of the Abraxas god and the characters,
“ZACTA IAW BAPIA,” which have been translated, “Iao the Destroyer and
Creator.”[187] Possibly this amulet may have been attached to the horse
during his races to insure victory, as we know that amulets of this
kind were used in this way.

As illustrating the eclectic character of some of the amulets used
in the early Christian centuries, we may note one in the Cabinet de
Médailles, in Paris. This has upon the obverse the head of Alexander
the Great; on the reverse is a she-ass with her foal, and below
this a scorpion and the name Jesus Christ. Another amulet of this
class, figured by Vettori,[188] also has the head of Alexander on
the obverse, while the reverse bears the Greek monogram of the name
Christos.

After the third or fourth century of our era the art of gem-engraving
seems to have been lost, or at least to have been very seldom
practised, and it is noteworthy in the matter that after this period
writers who treat of the virtues of engraved gems as talismans rarely,
if ever, use the words “if you engrave” such or such a figure on a
stone, but write “if you find” such a figure.

The figures engraved on precious stones were supposed to have a greater
or lesser degree of efficacy in themselves independent of the virtues
peculiar to the stone on which they were engraved, and this efficacy
depended largely upon the hour, day, or month during which the work
was executed. For the influence of the planet, star, or constellation
which was in the ascendant was thought to infuse a subtle essence into
the stone while the appropriate image was being engraved. However,
to exert the maximum power, the virtue of the image must be of the
same character as the virtue inherent in the material, and the gem
became less potent when this was not the case. Certain images, those
symbolizing the zodiacal signs for instance, were looked upon as
possessing such power that their peculiar nature impressed itself
even upon stones inherently of different quality; others again were
only efficacious when engraved on stones the quality of which was in
sympathy with them.[189]

Naturally, many of the ancient gems which had been preserved from
Greek and Roman times were recognized as being purely products of art,
but in medieval and later times the idea of the magic quality of all
engraved gems had become so deeply rooted that in many cases a magical
character was ascribed to them entirely foreign to the intention of the
engraver. Great ingenuity was often displayed in seeking and finding
some analogy between the supposed significance of the design and the
fancied power of the stone itself. Taking the agate as an illustration,
Camillo Leonardo says that its many different varieties had as
many different virtues, and he finds in this an explanation of the
multiplicity of images engraved on the various kinds of agate, without
realizing that the true reason was that this material lent itself more
readily to artistic treatment than did many others.

The idea that some special design should be engraved upon a given
stone became quite general in the early centuries of our era. The
emerald, for instance, according to Damigeron, was to be engraved with
a scarab, beneath which was to be a standing figure of Isis. The gem,
when completed, was to be pierced longitudinally and worn in a brooch.
The fortunate owner of this talisman was then to adorn himself and the
members of his family, and, a consecration having been pronounced, he
was assured that he would see “the glory of the stone granted it by
God.”[190] Possibly this may have meant that the stone would become
luminous.

A list of these symbolic designs is said to have been given in the
“Book of Wings,” by Ragiel, one of the curious treatises composed about
the thirteenth century under the influence of Hebrew and Greco-Roman
tradition. Although it owes its origin to the Hebrew “Book of Raziel,”
it bears little if any likeness to that work. As will be seen in the
following items, the fact that the design is on its appropriate stone
is always insisted on:

The beautiful and terrible figure of a dragon. If this is found on a
ruby or any other stone of similar nature and virtue, it has the power
to augment the goods of this world and makes the wearer joyous and
healthy.

The figure of a falcon, if on a topaz, helps to acquire the goodwill
of kings, princes, and magnates. The image of an astrolabe, if on
a sapphire, has power to increase wealth and enables the wearer to
predict the future.

The well-formed image of a lion, if engraved on a garnet, will protect
and preserve honors and health, cures the wearer of all diseases,
brings him honors, and guards him from all perils in travelling.

An ass, if represented on a chrysolite, will give power to
prognosticate and predict the future.

The figure of a ram or of a bearded man, on a sapphire, has the
power to cure and preserve from many infirmities as well as to free
from poison and from all demons. This is a royal image; it confers
dignities and honors and exalts the wearer.

A frog, engraved on a beryl, will have the power to reconcile enemies
and produce friendship where there was discord.

A camel’s head or two goats among myrtles, if on an onyx, has the
power to convoke, assemble, and constrain demons; if any one wears it,
he will see terrible visions in sleep.

A vulture, if on a chrysolite, has the power to constrain demons and
the winds. It controls demons and prevents them from coming together
in the place where the gem may be; it also guards against their
importunities. The demons obey the wearer.

A bat, represented on a heliotrope or bloodstone, gives the wearer
power over demons and helps incantations.

A griffin, imaged on a crystal, produces abundance of milk.

A man richly dressed and with a beautiful object in his hand, engraved
on a carnelian, checks the flow of blood and confers honors.

A lion or an archer, on a jasper, gives help against poison and cures
from fever.

A man in armor, with bow and arrow, on an iris stone, protects from
evil both the wearer and the place where it may be.

A man with a sword in his hand, on a carnelian, preserves the place
where it may be from lightning and tempest, and guards the wearer from
vices and enchantments.

A bull engraved on a prase is said to give aid against evil spells and
to procure the favor of magistrates.

A hoopoo with a tarragon herb before it, represented on a beryl,
confers the power to invoke water-spirits and to converse with them,
as well as to call up the mighty dead and to obtain answers to
questions addressed to them.

A swallow, on a celonite, establishes and preserves peace and concord
among men.

A man with his right hand raised aloft, if engraved on a chalcedony,
gives success in lawsuits, renders the wearer healthy, gives him
safety in his travels and preserves him from all evil chances.

The names of God, on a _ceraunia_ stone, have the power to preserve
the place where the stone may be from tempests; they also give to the
wearer victory over his enemies.

A bear, if engraved on an amethyst, has the virtue of putting demons
to flight and defends and preserves the wearer from drunkenness.

A man in armor, graven on a magnet, or loadstone, has the power to aid
in incantations and makes the wearer victorious in war.[191]

An Italian manuscript, dating from the fourteenth century, gives the
following talismanic gems:

If thou findest a stone on which is graven or figured a man with a
goat’s head, whoever wears this stone, with God’s help, will have
great riches and the love of all men and animals.

If a stone be found on which is graven or figured an armed man or
the draped figure of a virgin, bound with laurel and having a laurel
branch in her hand, this stone is sacred and frees the wearer from all
changes and haps of fortune.

When thou findest a stone on which is graven the figure of a man
holding a scythe in his hand, a stone like this imparts strength and
power to the wearer. Every day adds to his strength, courage and
boldness.

Hold dear that stone on which thou shalt find figured or cut the moon
or the sun, or both together, for it makes the wearer chaste and
guards him from lust.

A jewel to be prized is that stone on which is graven or figured a
man with wings having beneath his feet a serpent whose head he holds
in his hand. A stone of this kind gives the wearer, by God’s help,
abundant wealth of knowledge, as well as good health and favor.

Shouldst thou find a stone on which is the figure of a man holding in
his right hand a palm branch, this stone, with God’s help, renders the
wearer victorious in disputes and in battles, and brings him the favor
of the great.

Finding the stone called jasper, bearing graven or figured a huntsman,
a dog, or a stag, the wearer, with God’s help, will have the power to
heal one possessed of a devil, or who is insane.

A good stone is that one on which thou shalt find graven or figured
a serpent with a raven on its tail. Whoever wears this stone will
enjoy high station and be much honored; it also protects from the
ill-effects of the heat.[192]

The original meaning of the swastika emblem has been variously
explained as a symbol of fire, of the four cardinal points, of water,
of the lightning, etc. Still another explanation is given by Hoernes,
who inclines to the belief that it is simply a conventionalized
representation of the human form, the lower shaft being the two legs
joined together, the two horizontal shafts the outstretched arms, and
the upper shaft the trunk of the body; the four projections would stand
for the feet, the two hands and the head.[193]

The Egyptian crux ansata, the hieroglyphic symbol for “life,” and
the Phœnician Tau symbol, the “mark” that was to be stamped upon the
foreheads of the faithful in Jerusalem (Ezek. ix, 4), and which in
Early Christian art was frequently substituted for the usual cross,
are both explained by Hoernes in a similar way, and he notes the fact
that the swastika symbol does not appear in Egyptian or Phœnician art,
drawing the inference that all three symbols originated in the same
form or figure.[194] To all these symbols were attributed talismanic
virtues and they were frequently engraved on precious stones.

The so-called “Monogrammatic Cross” was very freely used in work of the
fifth century. This is simply a modification of the monogram formed of
the first two letters of the name Christ as written in Greek, a device
which first appeared after the time of Constantine the Great (d. 337
A.D.). This monogram usually assumed the following form: ☧, and the
“Monogrammatic Cross” was made by changing the position of the Greek X
(chi), and making one of its arms serve as the straight stroke of the P
(r), thus giving the following form: ⳨.

A curious amulet to avert the spell of the Evil Eye is an engraved sard
showing an eye in the centre, around which are grouped the attributes
of the divinities presiding over the days of the week. Sunday, the dies
Solis, is represented by a lion; Monday, the dies Lunæ, by a stag;
Tuesday, the dies Martis, by a scorpion; Wednesday, the dies Mercurii,
by a dog; Thursday, the dies Jovis, by a thunderbolt; Friday, the dies
Veneris, by a snake; and Saturday, the dies Saturni, by an owl.[195] In
this way the wearer was protected at all times from the evil influence.

Because of its peculiar markings, some of which suggest the form of an
eye, malachite was worn in some parts of Italy (_e.g._, in Bettona) as
an amulet to protect the wearer from the spell of the Evil Eye. Such
stones were called “peacock-stones,” from their resemblance in color
and marking to the peacock’s tail. The form of these malachite amulets
is usually triangular, and they were mounted in silver. It is curious
to note, as a proof of the persistence of superstitions, that in an
Etruscan tomb at Chiusi there was found a triangular, perforated piece
of glass, each angle terminating in an eye formed of glass of various
colors.[196]

On many of the amulets fabricated in Italy for protection against the
dreaded jettatura, or spell of the Evil Eye, the cock is figured.
His image was supposed in ancient times to assure the protection of
the sun-god, and his crowing was regarded as an inarticulate hymn of
praise to this deity. He was also a type of dauntless courage. All
this contributed to make him a defender of the weak, especially of
women and children, against the wiles of the spirits of darkness.[197]
Rostand, in his “Chantecler,” has enlarged this conception, and endows
the cock with the proud conviction that it is to his matutinal chant
alone that the world owes the daily recurrent phenomenon of the sunrise.

In Palestine the Evil Eye is supposed to be the baleful gift of men who
have light-blue eyes, more especially if they are beardless. Possibly
this is the power in which some of our blond and beardless “mashers”
repose their trust. As an antidote to the awful influence of these
blue-eyed monsters, the Syrian women decorated themselves with blue
beads, on the principle _similia similibus curantur_. A maiden with
beautiful hair will tie a blue ribbon about it, or wear a blue bead in
it, so as to ward off any evil spell cast by the blue eye that might
rob her of her fair dower.[198]

It is a well-known fact that many amulets were made in forms suggesting
objects offensive to our sense of propriety. These were thought to
protect the wearers by denoting the contempt they felt for the evil
spirits leagued against them. Some such fancy may have induced the
peculiar designs of certain of the jewels alleged to have been pawned
in Paris by the ex-Sultan Abdul Hamid for the sum of 1,200,000 francs
($240,000). According to rumor, these pledges must be sold, as the
sultan has failed to redeem them, but the designs are so _risqué_ that
they cannot be offered at public sale; therefore the stones and pearls
are to be removed and the gold settings are to be melted and sold as
metal.

It is not exclusively characteristic of our commercial and industrial
age that the price paid for a work of art should influence the popular
estimation of the merits of the work, as appears in an anecdote
related by Pliny. An emerald (smaragd), upon which was engraved a
figure of Amymone (one of the Danaidæ), having been offered for sale
in the Isle of Cyprus, at the price of six golden denarii, Ismenias, a
flute-player, gave orders to purchase it. The dealer, however, reduced
the price and returned two denarii; upon which Ismenias remarked, “By
Hercules! he has done me but a bad turn in this, for the merit of the
stone has been greatly impaired by this reduction in price.”[199]

A variant of the design directed by Damigeron to be placed on the
emerald is recommended in a thirteenth century manuscript, where
we read that to fit this stone for use as a talisman, it should be
engraved with the form of a scarab, beneath which there should appear
a crested paroquet.[200] According to the same manuscript, a jasper
should bear the figure of Mars fully armed, or else that of a virgin
wearing a flowing robe and bearing a laurel branch. It should then be
“consecrated with perpetual consecration.” The mythical author Cethel
asserts that the owner of a jasper engraved with the sacred symbol of
the cross would be preserved from drowning.[201]

A curious quid pro quo appears in a fifteenth century treatise on
gems written in French. Here, in a list of engraved gems suitable for
use as amulets, we read, “If you find a dromedary engraved on a stone
with hair flowing over its shoulders, this stone will bring peace
and concord between man and wife.” The original Latin text read, “If
you find Andromeda on a stone with hair flowing over her shoulders,”
etc.[202] The translator’s art which could turn Andromeda into a
dromedary almost equalled that of the enchantress Circe.

A few even of the early writers were disposed to be sceptical as to
the virtues ascribed to these engraved gems, and did not hesitate to
assert that the Greek and Roman engravers executed their designs for
ornamental purposes rather than to fit the gems for use as talismans.
This was undoubtedly true in a large number of cases but nevertheless,
as we have seen, many engraved talismans were really cut in the early
centuries. As the art of gem engraving was not practised in the Middle
Ages, some medieval writers suppose that the engraved talismanic gems
current in their time were not works of art, but of nature, and Konrad
von Megenberg accepting this view, gave it as his opinion that “God
granted these stones their beauty and virtue for the help and comfort
of the human race,” adding that when he hoped to receive help from them
he in no wise denied the grace of God.[203]

Damigeron writes of the sard that, if worn by a woman, it is a good
and fortunate stone. It should be engraved with a design showing a
grape-vine and ivy intertwined.[204]

A celebrated topaz was that noted by George Agricola as being in the
possession of a Neapolitan, Hadrianus Gulielmus.[205] It bore, in
ancient Roman characters, the terse and pregnant inscription:

Natura deficit,
Fortuna mutatur.
Deus omnia cernit.

This was very freely rendered by Thomas Nicols as follows:[206]

Nature by frailty doth dayly waste away.
Fortune is turn’d and changed every day.
In all, there is an eye know’s no decay.
Jah sees for aye.

There is in the Imperial Academy at Moscow a turquoise two inches in
diameter, inscribed with a text from the Koran in letters of gold. This
turquoise was formerly worn by the Shah of Persia as an amulet, and it
was valued at 5000 rubles by the jeweller from whose hands it came.[207]

It is well known that Napoleon III was inclined to be superstitious,
and there is not, therefore, anything inherently improbable in the
report that he left the seal he wore on his watch-chain to his son,
the unfortunate Prince Imperial, as a talisman. This seal is said to
have borne an inscription in Arabic characters, signifying “The slave
Abraham relying on the Merciful One (God).”[208] The talisman lost its
virtue on that unlucky day when, in far-off Zululand, the heir to so
many hopes was cut off in the first flush of early manhood (see page
64).


V

On Ominous and Luminous Stones


THE OPAL

_Mother._ Come, let me place a charm upon thy brow,
And may good spirits grant, that never care
Approach, to trace a single furrow there!

_Daughter._ Thy love, my mother, better far than charm,
Shall shield thy child—and yet this wondrous gem[209]
Looks as though some strange influence it had won
From the bright skies—for every rainbow hue
Shoots quivering through its depths in changeful gleams,
Like the mild lightnings of a summer eve.

_Mother._ Even so doth love pervade a mother’s heart;
Thus, ever active, looks through her fond eyes.[210]

There can be little doubt that much of the modern superstition
regarding the supposed unlucky quality of the opal owes its origin
to a careless reading of Sir Walter Scott’s novel, “Anne of
Geierstein.”[211] The wonderful tale therein related of the Lady
Hermione, a sort of enchanted princess, who came no one knew whence
and always wore a dazzling opal in her hair, contains nothing to
indicate that Scott really meant to represent the opal as unlucky. Lady
Hermione’s gem was an enchanted stone just as its owner was a product
of enchantment, and its peculiarities depended entirely upon its
mysterious character, which might equally well have been attributed to
a diamond, a ruby, or a sapphire. The life of the stone was bound up
with the life of Hermione; it sparkled when she was gay, it shot out
red gleams when she was angry; and when a few drops of holy water were
sprinkled over it, they quenched its radiance. Hermione fell into a
swoon, was carried to her chamber, and the next day nothing but a small
heap of ashes remained on the bed whereon she had been laid. The spell
was broken and the enchantment dissolved. All that can have determined
the selection of the opal rather than any other precious stone is the
fact of its wonderful play of color and its sensitiveness to moisture.
Hence we are perfectly justified in returning to the older belief of
the manifold virtues of the opal, only remembering that this gem is
a little more fragile than many others and should be more carefully
handled and guarded.

The opal, October’s gem, recalls in its wonderful and varied play of
color the glories of a bright October day in the country, when earth
and sky vie with each other in brilliancy and the eye is fairly dazzled
with the bewildering variety of color.

It rarely happens that Pliny gives any information as to particular
jewels, almost all his notices of precious stones being confined to
descriptions of their form and color, and data regarding what was
popularly believed as to their talismanic or therapeutic power. In the
case of the _opalus_, however, he writes as follows: “There exists
to-day a gem of this kind, on account of which the senator Nonius was
proscribed by Antony. Seeking safety in flight, he took with him of
all his possessions this ring alone, which it is certain, was valued
at 2,000,000 sesterces ($80,000).”[212] The stone was “as large as a
hazel-nut.”

This “opal of Nonius” would be the great historic opal if we had any
assurance that it was really the stone to which we now give this name.
As, however, the principal European source of supply in Hungary does
not appear to have been available in classic times to the Romans, and
as opals are not found in the places whence, according to Pliny, the
_opalus_ was derived, we are almost forced to the conclusion that he
had some other stone in mind when he gave his eloquent description of
the _opalus_. And yet, in spite of all this, Pliny’s words so well
describe the beauties of a fine opal that it is difficult to determine
what other stone he could have meant. For it can well be said of opals
that “There is in them a softer fire than in the carbuncle, there
is the brilliant purple of the amethyst; there is the sea-green of
the emerald—all shining together in incredible union. Some by their
refulgent splendor rival the colors of the painters, others the flame
of burning sulphur or of fire quickened by oil.”[213] Possibly some
brilliant varieties of iridescent quartz—“iris” quartz, possessing an
internal fracture, displays with great brilliancy all the colors of the
rainbow, sparkling with wonderful clearness in its field of transparent
mineral—might excite the admiration of one who had never seen an opal.
Referring again to these quartz crystals, they are often cut so as to
form a dome of quartz and are even used as distinct jewels. The fact
that Pliny could praise the Indian imitations of the _opalus_ in glass,
and could state that this stone was more successfully imitated than any
other, is an almost decisive argument against identifying the _opalus_
with an opal, for it is well known that no stone is more difficult to
imitate.

About the middle of the eighteenth century, a peasant found a brilliant
precious stone in some old ruins at Alexandria, Egypt. This stone was
set in a ring. It was as large as a hazel-nut and is said to have been
an opal cut _en cabochon_. According to the report, it was eventually
taken to Constantinople, where it was estimated to be worth “several
thousand ducats.”[214] The description given of this gem, its apparent
antiquity, and the high value set upon it have contributed to induce
many to conjecture that it was the celebrated “opal of Nonius.” Of
course this was nothing but a romantic fancy. It is also quite certain
that an opal would scarcely hold its play of color or compactness for
twenty centuries, for most opals lose their water—slowly perhaps, but
surely—within a lesser space of time. Even the finest Hungarian opals
show some loss of life and color within a century or even less, and
some transparent Mexican opals lose their color and are filled with
flaws within a few years’ time.

The Edda tells of a sacred stone called the yarkastein, which the
clever smith Volöndr (the Scandinavian Vulcan) formed from the eyes
of children. Grimm conjectures that this name designates a round,
milk-white opal. Certainly the opal was often called _ophthalmios_, or
eyestone, in the Middle Ages, and it was a common idea that the image
of a boy or girl could be seen in the pupil of the eye.

Albertus Magnus describes under the name _orphanus_ a stone which
was set in the imperial crown of the Holy Roman Empire. This gem is
believed to have been a splendid opal, and Albertus describes it as
follows:

The orphanus is a stone which is in the crown of the Roman Emperor,
and none like it has ever been seen; for this very reason it is called
orphanus. It is of a subtle vinous tinge, and its hue is as though
pure white snow flashed and sparkled with the color of bright, ruddy
wine, and was overcome by this radiance. It is a translucent stone,
and there is a tradition that formerly it shone in the night-time; but
now, in our age, it does not sparkle in the dark. It is said to guard
the regal honor.[215]

Evidently this imperial gem was regarded as _sui generis_, for Albertus
has just described the _ophthalmus lapis_, a name frequently bestowed
upon the opal in medieval times, reciting the virtues usually ascribed
to the opal for the cure of diseases of the eye, and the magic power of
the stone to render its wearer invisible, wherefore it was denominated
_patronus furum_, or “patron of thieves.”

In the Middle Ages the opal mines of Cernowitz, in Hungary, were
very actively exploited, and at the opening of the fifteenth century
more than three hundred men are said to have been employed here in
the search for opals. At that time, and for many centuries after, no
breath of suspicion ever tarnished the fame of the opal as not only a
thing of rare beauty, but also a talisman of the first rank. We are
told that blond maidens valued nothing more highly than necklaces of
opals, for while they wore these ornaments their hair was sure to guard
its beautiful color. The latter superstitions probably arose from the
frangibility of the stone and its occasional loss of fire.

From the earliest times the baleful influence of the Evil Eye has
struck terror into the souls of the ignorant and superstitious. It
is believed by some that the name “opal”—written “ophal” in the
time of Queen Elizabeth—was derived from _ophthalmos_, the eye, or
_ophthalmius_, pertaining to the eye, and that hence the foolish
superstition regarding the ill luck of the opal had some connection
with the belief in the Evil Eye. However, this is altogether incorrect,
since the stone called _ophthalmius_ by early writers, and which seems
to have been the opalus of the ancients and our opal, was believed to
have a wonderfully beneficial effect upon the sight, and if it was
thought to render the wearer invisible, this was only an added virtue
of the stone.

The eye-agates were sometimes used to form the eyes of idols. At a
later period some of these “agate-eyes” were removed from the statues
and cut with a glyptic subject on the lower side. Some of the most
interesting antique gems are of this kind. In Aleppo (and elsewhere in
the East) there is a certain type of sore known as the “Aleppo button”
or “Aleppo boil.” The boil frequently does not appear for a long
period after infection has taken place. It often appears as a swelling
surrounded by a white ring, and there is a belief among the natives
that there are “Aleppo stones,” these being the so-called “eye-agates”
frequently produced by cutting a three-layer, naturally pale yellow
or pale gray agate, with intervening white zones in such a way that
it looks like an eye or a double-eye, and such stones are used in
alleviation of the Aleppo sore. What beneficial influence they may have
is due to the fact that the agate is cold and furnishes a little relief
for the time.

This “Aleppo boil” or “Oriental sore” so prevalent in many parts of
western Asia, is produced, according to the best authorities, by a
pathogenic organism _Leishmania tropica_ (Wright) 1903. As to the means
by which this organism is introduced into the human subject nothing
very definite is known, but mosquitoes or _Phlebotomus_ have been
suggested as possible transmitting agencies.[216]

The eye of some invisible monster, the eye of the dragon, the eye of
the serpent, were all regarded as possessed of malign power. It is well
known that in the East Indies a peacock’s feather is thought to bring
ill-luck, the eye in the feather being the baleful point. Even in our
own time, and among those for whom this primitive superstition has no
terrors, the humorous use of the idea—as shown, for instance, in the
“Dick Dead-Eye” of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Pinafore”—proves that the
Evil Eye is familiar to our thoughts. For this reason, stones such as
those which have been named the cat’s-eye, the tiger’s-eye, or the
oculus Beli, always possess a certain strange interest.

One of the earliest descriptions of the opal in English is that written
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth by Dr. Stephen Batman (d. 1584). While
the passage is essentially a translation from the “De proprietatibus
rerum,” of Bartolomæus Anglicus, the English version is interesting
in itself as showing what was accepted by English readers of the time
regarding the virtues of the opal. There is, of course, no trace of
the foolish modern superstition touching the ominous quality of this
beautiful gem. Batman writes:[217]

Optallio is called Oppalus also, and is a stone distinguished with
colors of divers precious stones, as _Isid._ saith…. This stone
breedeth onely in _Inde_ and is deemed to have as many virtues, as
hiewes and colours. Of this _Optallius_ it is said in Lapidario, that
this _Optallius_ keepeth and saveth his eyen that beareth it, cleere
and sharp and without griefe, and dimmeth other men’s eyen that be
about, with a maner clowde, and smiteth them with a maner blindnesse,
that is called _Amentia_, so that they may not see neither take heede
what is done before their eyen. Therefore it is said that it is the
most sure patron of theeves.

The opal seems to have appealed to Shakespeare as a fit emblem of
inconstancy, for in “Twelfth Night” he makes the clown say to the
Duke:[218]

Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the Tailor make thy garment
of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is very opal.

That the beauty of the opal was fully appreciated in the sixteenth
century is shown by the words of Cardano, who states that he once
bought one of these stones for fifteen gold crowns and found as much
pleasure in its possession as he did in that of a diamond that had
cost him five hundred crowns.[219] Although superstitious beliefs
were rather the rule than the exception in Cardano’s time, none of
the silly fancies regarding the ominous quality of the opal were then
current. It was reserved for the nineteenth century to develop these
altogether unreasonable—and indeed almost inexplicable—superstitions.
The ownership of so fair an object as a fine opal must certainly be a
source of pleasure, and hence add to the good fortune of the owner.

Although opal has been considered by some a stone of misfortune, black
opal is regarded as an exceptionally lucky stone. Formerly black opals
were artificially made by dipping the light-colored stone into ink, or
by allowing burnt oil to enter cracks in the stone produced by heating.
About the year 1900, however, a number of deposits of natural black
opals were found in the White Cliff region of New South Wales, whence
exceedingly beautiful gems have been secured, with wonderful flames
of green, red, and blue in a black field. Some of these have sold for
$1000 and even for a higher price, the smaller ones bringing from a few
dollars upward each. It has been claimed that $2,000,000 worth have
been sold from New South Wales. A remarkable example is figured on the
frontispiece of this volume. The late F. Marion Crawford was a great
admirer of this strangely beautiful variety of opal.

That ill-luck and good-luck are relative terms is shown us published
of an opal by Paris newspapers. A shopgirl, plainly clad, in crossing
the Place de l’Opéra, when the street traffic was at its greatest,
stopped at one of the “refuges” halfway across the street. To the
girl’s great surprise, an elegantly attired lady standing there slipped
an opal ring from her finger and gave it to the girl, who took it
to a jeweller’s shop to sell it. Here she was arrested on suspicion
of having stolen it. The magistrate before whom she appeared was
inclined to believe her story and ordered a “personal” in a widely read
journal asking the lady to clear the girl of the charge. A titled lady
presented herself, substantiating the girl’s statement. She feared
ill-luck would befall her if she wore or kept the ring, which was
returned to the shopgirl.

A possible explanation of the superstitious dread the opal used to
excite some time ago may be found in the fact that lapidaries and
gem-setters to whom opals were entrusted were sometimes so unfortunate
as to fracture them in the process of cutting or setting. This was
frequently due to no fault on the part of the cutters or setters, but
was owing to the natural brittleness of the opal. As such workmen are
responsible to the owners for any injury to the gems, they would soon
acquire a prejudice against opals, and would come to regard them as
unlucky stones. Very widespread superstitions have no better foundation
than this, for the original cause, sometimes a quite rational one, is
soon lost sight of and popular fantasy suggests something entirely
different and better calculated to appeal to the imagination.

The belief that the diamond fractured the teeth if it were put in
the mouth, and ruptured the intestines if it were swallowed, already
appears in pseudo-Aristotle,[220] and can therefore be dated back to
the ninth and perhaps to the seventh century. This fancy evidently owes
its origin to the fact that the diamond, because of its hardness, was
used to cut all other stones, and the idea of its destructive quality
was strengthened by the old legends regarding the venomous serpents
which guarded the place where it was found. Hence the firm conviction
that it would bring death to any one who swallowed it.

According to Garcias ab Orta (1563), the diamond was not used for
medicinal purposes in the India of his time, except when injected
into the bladder to break up vesical calculi. He notes, however, the
prevalent belief that diamonds, or diamond dust, when taken internally,
worked as a poison. As a proof of the falsity of this belief, Garcias
adduces the fact that the slaves who worked in the diamond mines
often swallowed diamonds to conceal them, and never experienced any
ill effects, the stones being recovered in a natural way. The same
author notes the case of a man who suffered from chronic dysentery and
whose wife had for a long time administered to him doses of diamond
dust. If this did not help him, neither did it injure him; finally, by
the advice of the doctors, this strange treatment was abandoned. The
man eventually died of his disease, but many days after the doses of
diamond dust had been discontinued.[221]

The Hindus believed that a flawed diamond, or one containing specks or
spots, was so unlucky that it could even deprive Indra of his highest
heaven. The original shape of the stone was also considered of great
importance, more especially in early times, when but few, if any,
diamonds, were cut. A triangular stone was said to cause quarrels, a
square diamond inspired the wearer with vague terrors; a five-cornered
stone had the worst effect of all, for it brought death; only the
six-cornered diamond was productive of good.[222]

The Turkish sultan Bejazet II (1447-1512) is said to have been done
to death by a dose of pulverized diamond administered to him by his
son Selim, who mixed the diamond dust with the sultan’s food.[223] It
is also related that the disciples of Paracelsus (1493-1541) spread
the report that he died from the effects of a dose of diamond dust.
Ambrosius[224] conjectures that this was only an excuse to explain the
demise of the master in the prime of life—he was but forty-eight years
old at the time of his death—although he had promised long life to all
who made use of his medicaments.

While Benvenuto Cellini (1500-1571), the unrivalled goldsmith, was
imprisoned in Rome, in 1538, he strongly suspected that his enemies
were seeking to poison him by tampering with his food. Cellini shared
the belief of his contemporaries that there was no more deadly poison
than diamond dust. One day, while eating his noonday meal, he felt
something grate between his teeth. He paid no particular attention
to this, but when he had finished eating his eye was caught by some
bright particles on the plate. Picking up one of these and examining it
carefully, he was terrified to find what he supposed to be a diamond
splinter, and he straightway gave himself up for lost, thinking that he
had swallowed a quantity of diamond dust. He prayed to God for an hour
and finally became reconciled to the thought of dying, but suddenly it
occurred to him that he had not tested the hardness of the fragment he
had found in his food. He immediately took the splinter and tried to
crush it between his knife and the stone window-sill; to his joy the
attempt succeeded, and he became convinced that what he had swallowed
was not diamond dust. Later, after his release, Cellini learned that
an enemy had given a diamond to a certain Lione Aretino, a gem-cutter,
instructing him to grind it up so that the dust could be placed in
Cellini’s food. The gem-cutter was very poor and the diamond was worth
a hundred scudi, so the man yielded to temptation and substituted
a citrine for the diamond. To this circumstance alone did Cellini
attribute his escape from death.[225]

In England, more than seventy years after Cellini’s experience, diamond
dust was selected as a poison to do away with a luckless prisoner. Sir
Thomas Overbury had incurred the bitter animosity of the Countess of
Essex, because he opposed her marriage with the favorite of James I,
Robert Carr, Viscount Somerset, whom he had befriended and whose career
he had furthered. The marriage took place, however, and, in 1613,
Overbury was imprisoned in the Tower, through the machinations of the
countess. She then sought the aid of one James Franklin, an apothecary,
directing him to concoct a slow and deadly poison, which should be
mixed with Overbury’s food. In the minutes of Franklin’s confession, he
is said to have stated that the countess asked him what he thought of
white arsenic. His reply was that this poison would prove too violent.
“What say you (quoth she) to powder of diamonds?” He answered, “I
know not the nature of that.” She said that he was a fool, and gave
him pieces of gold, and bade him buy some of that powder for her. It
appears, however, from the testimony, that a number of ingredients were
employed, quite probably small doses of mercury, cantharides, etc., as
well as the baleful diamond dust. Poor Overbury lingered on for more
than three months, but was finally put out of his misery by a clyster
of corrosive sublimate.[226]

As a proof of the deadly effects caused by the diamond, the Portuguese
Zacutus relates the case of a merchant’s servant who surreptitiously
swallowed three rough diamonds belonging to his master. On the
following day this man was seized with violent abdominal pains, all the
remedies administered to him were without effect, and he soon died from
the extensive internal ulceration produced by the sharp edges of the
diamonds.[227]

This old fancy that diamonds or diamond dust had deadly effects
when swallowed is pretty well exploded by this time, little or no
confirmation being afforded by the instances cited in the matter.
However, quite recently it has been shown that swallowing a diamond
can prove fatal to a fowl. While a prize-winning cockerel was being
fondled by his proud owner, it spied a flashing diamond set in a ring
on his hand, and immediately pecked out the stone and swallowed it. Not
long after, the fowl died—not, however, because it was poisoned by the
diamond, but because it was chloroformed to insure the speedy recovery
of the stone.

An old English ballad, treating of the loves of Hind Horn and Maid
Rimnild, recounts that when Hind Horn, who loved and was beloved by
the king’s daughter, went to sea to escape the wrath of the king, the
princess gave him a ring set with seven diamonds. We are told that when
far from home:

One day he looked his ring upon
He saw the diamond pale and wan.

Hereupon, he hastened back, for the paleness of the stone was a sign
the loved one was unfaithful to him. On his return, he succeeded in
preventing her marriage to another, and everything ended happily.[228]

In a fourteenth century MS. of the Old English romance upon which the
ballad is founded, the stone in the ring is not named; in giving it
Rimnild says:[229]

Loke thou forsake it for no thing;
The ston it is well trewe.
When the ston wexeth wan
Than chaungeth the thought of thi leman,

Take than a newe.
When the ston wexeth rede,
Than have Y lorn mi maidenhed,
Oghaines[230] the untrewe.

In this older form of the tale, the stone either grows pale or red as a
sign of misfortune. It is interesting to note that Epiphanius, writing
a thousand years earlier, states that the _adamas_ of the high-priest
grew red as a presage of bloodshed and defeat for the Jews.

Regarding the old fancy that a serpent could not look upon an emerald
without losing its sight, the Arabian gem dealer, Ahmed Teifashi, in
1242 writes as follows:[231]

After having read in learned books of this peculiarity of the emerald,
I tested it by my own experiment and found the statements exact. It
chanced that I had in my possession a fine emerald of the zabâbi
variety, and with this I decided to make the experiment on the eyes
of a viper. Therefore, having made a bargain with a snake-charmer to
procure me some vipers, as soon as I received them I selected one
and placed it in a vessel. This being done, I took a stick of wood,
attached to the end a piece of wax, and embedded my emerald in this.
I then brought the emerald near to the viper’s eyes. The reptile was
strong and vigorous, and even raised its head out of the vessel, but
as soon as I approached the emerald to its eyes, I heard a slight
crepitation and saw that the eyes were protruding and dissolving into
a humor. After this the viper was dazed and confused; I had expected
that it would spring from the vessel, but it moved uneasily hither and
thither, without knowing which way to turn; all its agility was lost,
and its restless movements soon ceased.

Wolfgang Gabelchover, in his commentary on the sixth book of the
treatise “De Gemmis,” by Andrea Baccio, gives the following account of
a strange and tragic experience in regard to a ruby:[232]

It is worthy of note that the true Oriental ruby, by frequent changes
of color and by growing obscurity, announces to the wearer some
impending misfortune or calamity; and the obscurity and opacity is
greater or less according to the extent of the coming ill-fortune.
Alas! that what I had often heard proclaimed by learned men, I should
myself experience; for as, on the fifth of December, 1600, I was
travelling from Stuttgart to Calw with my beloved wife Catherine
Adelmann of pious memory, I plainly observed in the course of the
journey that a very beautiful ruby which she had given me, and which I
wore on my hand, set in a gold ring, once and again lost its splendid
coloring and became obscure, changing its brightness for a dark hue.
This dark hue continued not for one or two days only, but so long
that I was greatly terrified, and, removing the ring from my finger,
concealed it in a case. Wherefore, I repeatedly warned my wife that
some great calamity was impending either for her or for myself, the
which I inferred from the change and variation of the ruby. Nor was
I deceived, for within a few days she was seized with a dangerous
illness, which resulted in her death.

A story explaining one at least of these supposedly ominous changes of
color in precious stones, is given by Johann Jacob Spener, who states
that it was told him by a trustworthy informant:[233]

There was a jeweller, expert, prudent, and rich, three essential
qualities in a jeweller. One day, after having washed his hands, this
man sat at a table, when, glancing at a ruby ring he wore on his
finger, he remarked that the stone, which usually delighted the eye
with its splendor, had lost its brilliancy and become dull. Since he
believed what others had related to him, he was firmly persuaded that
some misfortune threatened him, and, having removed the ring from
his finger, he placed it in its case. A fortnight later, one of this
man’s sons died of varioloid. Reminded by this event of the phenomenon
observed in the ruby, the jeweller took it from the case and found,
on examination, that it had regained its pristine brilliancy. This
fact confirmed him in his belief in the ominous quality of the stone.
Once more, shortly after washing his hands, he remarked anew that
the splendor of the ruby was dimmed, and he again fell a prey to
anxiety, lest some fresh misfortune was impending. Since, however,
his apprehensions proved vain and no untoward event happened, he
investigated the matter carefully, and discovered that the obscuration
of the color was due to a drop of water which had penetrated between
the ruby and the foil, as the jewellers call it, and that the former
brilliancy returned when the water had evaporated.

The ominous character of the onyx is especially noted in Arabic
tradition, as is shown by the Arabic name for the stone, _el jaza_,
“sadness.” The following passage from pseudo-Aristotle offers an
illustration of the strength of this prejudice against the onyx, which
was said to come from China and the Magreb:[234]

Those who are in the land of China fear this stone so much that they
dread to go into the mines where it occurs; hence none but slaves and
menials, who have no other means of gaining a livelihood, take the
stone from the mines. When it has been extracted, it is carried out of
the country and sold in other lands. Those men of the Magreb also who
are gifted with any wisdom will not wear an onyx or place it in their
treasuries. Indeed, no one is willing to wear it, unless he be bereft
of his senses; for whosoever wears it, either set in a ring or in any
other way, will have fearful dreams and be tormented by a multitude
of doubts and apprehensions; he will also have many disputes and
lawsuits. Lastly, whoever keeps an onyx in his house, or places it in
a vessel, or puts it in food or drink, will suffer loss of energy and
capacity.

An ominous character was attributed to the red coral, especially the
more highly colored varieties. If worn so that the substance came in
direct contact with the skin, it was asserted that the color would
pale, the coral also losing its brightness if the wearer became ill, or
even if he were only threatened with severe illness. The same effect
was said to be induced if some deadly poison had been taken. Cardano
writes that he more than once observed this phenomenon, and he thinks
that in these cases, where the wearer was not yet attacked by disease,
its threatening “vapor,” though not strong enough to provoke decided
symptoms in the human body, was sufficiently powerful to offset the
more delicate and subtle essence of the mineral substance. Of course,
for us the mineral would be much less sensitive than flesh and blood,
but the sixteenth century writers, and to a still greater degree those
of an earlier time, attributed to stones not only life in a general
way, but old age, disease, and death, in a very positive sense.[235]

Rabbinical tradition tells of a wonderful luminous stone placed by Noah
in the Ark. This stone shone more brilliantly by day than by night, and
served to distinguish the day from the night when, during the flood,
neither sun nor moon could be seen.[236] According to another Jewish
legend, Abraham is said to have built a city for the six sons Hagar
bore to him. The wall with which this city was surrounded was so lofty
that the light of the sun was cut off, and to offset this Abraham gave
to his sons enormous precious stones and pearls. These exceeded the sun
in brightness, and will be used in the time of the Messiah.[237]

Ælian relates the following tale of a luminous stone. A woman of
Tarentum, named Heracleis, who was a pattern of the domestic virtues,
lost her husband and mourned sincerely for him. Her grief made her
compassionate, for when a young stork just learning to fly lost its
strength and fell to the ground before her, Heracleis picked up the
helpless bird and tended it carefully until its strength returned and
it was able to fly away. A year later, when the woman was outside the
house enjoying the bright warm sunshine, she saw a stork flying toward
her. As the bird passed over her head, it let fall a precious stone
into her lap. Heracleis took the stone with her into the house,
feeling by an infallible instinct that the stork which had dropped it
was the one she had cared for in the previous year. During the night
she woke up, and was astonished to see that the room was lighted up as
though by many torches, the radiance proceeding from the stone bestowed
by the stork as a proof of its gratitude.[238]

In German, the stone called _Donnerkeil_ (thunderbolt) has several
synonyms; among these is _Storchstein_ (“stork-stone”). It is evident
that the stone of Heracleis was identical with the precious and
brilliant variety of _cerauniæ_ mentioned by Pliny, “which drew to
themselves the radiance of the stars.” The flashing and ruddy light
of the ruby suggested an igneous origin, and induced the belief that
rubies were generated by a fire from heaven,—in other words, by the
lightning flash.[239]

The analogy between the flame of a lamp or the glow of a burning coal
and the radiance of a ruby, suggested some of the names given to this
stone, or those resembling it in color, as, for instance, the Greek
_anthrax_ and the Latin _carbunculus_ and _lychnis_. Probably the
fancy that such stones were luminous in the dark was nothing more than
the logical result of the quasi-identification of them with fire in
some of its manifestations. Still, it is a well-known fact that some
stones possess a high degree of phosphorescence. This circumstance
must have been observed by chance, and may have had something to do
with the legends of luminous stones, although this peculiarity is not
characteristic of the ruby.

According to Pliny, the lychnis, perhaps a spinel, was so called _a
lucernarum accensu_ (from the lighting, or the light, of lamps). The
author of the poem “Lithica” says that the diamond (_adamas_), like
the crystal, when placed on an altar, sent forth a flame without the
aid of fire.[240] If this did not refer to the use of rock-crystal as
a burning-glass, we might see in the passage an indication that the
phosphorescence of the diamond had already been noted before the second
or third century of our era.

From the Lydian river Tmolus a marvellous stone was taken which was
said to change color four times a day. This surpasses the properties of
the “saphire merveilleux” which changed its hue at night. Only innocent
young girls could find the Lydian stone, and while they wore it they
were defended from outrage.[241] Is it possible that the ancient writer
intended to hint at the proverbial fickleness of woman, when stating
that this changeable stone could only be discovered by one of the fair
sex?

The temple of the Syrian goddess Astarte contained an image of this
divinity crowned with a diadem in which was set a luminous stone.
Such was the splendor of the light emitted by this gem that the whole
sanctuary was lighted up as though with a myriad of lamps. Indeed, the
stone itself bore the name _lychnos_ (“lamp”). In the daytime this
light was fainter, but was still very noticeable, as a fiery glow.[242]

Two fabulous stones are noted by pseudo-Aristotle, and one of these,
the “sleeping-stone,” must have possessed marvellous soporific power.
It was a luminous stone of a bright ruddy hue, and shone in the
darkness with a bright light. If a small quantity of this stone were
hung about a person’s neck, he would sleep uninterruptedly for three
days and nights, and, when awakened on the fourth day, he would still
be almost overcome by sleep. The other stone, of a greenish hue, had
the opposite quality and induced prolonged wakefulness; so long as it
was worn, sleep was banished. Our author gravely states that “some
men who must watch at night suffer greatly from lack of sleep.” If,
however, they wore the “waking-stone,” they suffered no inconvenience
from their enforced vigils.[243] Evidently this stone would be a
precious possession for night-watchmen, and a more satisfactory
guarantee for their employers than “timeclocks” or other tests of
wakefulness.

In his commentary on Marbodus, Alardus of Amsterdam relates the history
of a wonderful luminous stone, a “chrysolampis,” which, with many other
precious stones, was set in a marvellous golden tablet dedicated to
St. Adelbert, apostle of the Frisians and patron of the town of Egmund
(d. 720-730), by Hildegard, wife of Theodoric, Count of Holland. The
gift was made to the Abbey of Egmund, where the saint’s body reposed.
Alardus tells us that the “chrysolampis” shone so brightly that when
the monks were called to the chapel in the night-time, they could read
the Hours without any other light. This wonderful stone was stolen by
one of the monks, whom Alardus terms “the most rapacious creature who
ever went on two legs”; but, fearing to keep so valuable a gem with
him, he cast it into the sea and it was never recovered.[244]

Strange tales were told of a luminous “carbuncle” on the shrine of St.
Elizabeth (d. 1231) at Marburg. This stone was set above the statuette
of the Virgin, and it was said to emit fiery rays at night. However,
Creuzer informs us that it was only a very brilliant rock crystal of a
yellowish-white hue. The shrine was an elaborate work of art in silver
gilt, and was literally covered with precious stones to the number of
824, besides two large pearls and a great many smaller ones. All these
gems were stripped from their settings when the shrine was taken from
Marburg to Cassel in 1810.[245]

At the Dusseldorf Exhibition of 1891, the writer saw what was called
“The Ring of St. Elizabeth,” purporting to be set with her miraculously
luminous ruby. The stone in the setting proved, however, to be a large
almost flat carbuncle garnet of no great brilliancy, set in a narrow
rim of gold.

After noting the reports of medieval travellers regarding the wonderful
luminous rubies of the sovereigns of Pegu and repeating the tale that
the night was illumined by their splendor, Cleandro Arnobio adds that
it did not appear that any such rubies were to be found in his day.
Nevertheless, he had heard from an ecclesiastic of a certain jewel that
shone brightly at night. This stone, however, was not a ruby, but was
of a pale citron hue, and hence Arnobio inclines to believe that it was
either a topaz or a yellow diamond.[246] This probably refers to the
Marburg “carbuncle.”

The luminous “ruby” of the King of Ceylon is noted by Chau Ju-Kua,[247]
a Chinese writer of about the middle of the thirteenth century and
hence a contemporary of the Arab Teifashi. He says: “The king holds
in his hand a jewel five inches in diameter, which cannot be burned
by fire, and which shines in the night like a torch.” This gigantic
luminous gem was also believed to possess the virtues of an elixir of
youth, for we are told that the king rubbed his face with it daily and
by this means would retain his youthful looks even should he live more
than ninety years.

The glories of Emperor Manuel’s (ca. 1120-1180) throne are celebrated
by the Hebrew traveller Benjamin of Tudela, who visited Constantinople
in 1161 A.D. This splendid throne was of gold studded with precious
stones and, suspended from the canopy by gold chains, hung a
magnificent golden crown set with jewels of incalculable value and so
bright and sparkling that their glitter rendered needless any other
illumination at night.[248]

When Henry II of France (1519-1559) made his solemn entry into the
city of Boulogne, a stranger from India presented to the sovereign a
luminous stone. It was rather soft, had a fiery brilliance, and could
not be touched with impunity. According to De Thou, this story was
vouched for by J. Pipin, who saw the stone himself and described it in
a letter to Antoine Mizauld, a writer on occult themes, well known in
his day.[249]

Although Garcias ab Orta did not believe in the tales current in his
time regarding luminous rubies, he relates a story of such a stone told
to him by a gem-dealer. This man stated that he had purchased a number
of fine but small rubies from Ceylon, and had spread them out over
a table. When he gathered them up again, one of the stones remained
hidden in a fold of the table-cloth. In the night he remarked something
like a flame emanating from the table. Lighting a candle, he approached
the table and found there the small ruby; when this was removed and
the candle extinguished, the light was no longer visible. Garcias
admits that the gem-dealers were fond of telling good stories, but he
concludes with the dictum, “we must trust in them nevertheless.”[250]

Not only the ruby, but the emerald also had the reputation of being
a luminous stone, for, besides the shining “emerald” pillar in the
temple of Melkart at Tyre, Pliny records the tale of a marble lion,
with eyes of gleaming emeralds, which was set over the tomb of “a
petty king called Hermias.” This tomb was on the coast, and the
flashing light from the emerald eyes frightened away the tunny-fish,
to the great loss of the fishermen.[251] Whether the eyes of the
magnificent chryselephantine statue of Athene by Phidias were supposed
to be luminous we do not know, but they were incrusted with precious
stones.[252]

The collection of works by the English alchemists, published by Elias
Ashmole, contains the tale of a worthy parson who lived in a little
town near London, and who wished to immortalize himself by building
across the Thames a bridge which would always be lighted at night.
After relating several expedients which suggested themselves to him,
the poet continues:

At the laste he thought to make the light,
For the Bridge to shine by nighte,
With _Carbuncle Stones_, to make men wonder,
With double reflexion above and under:
Then new thought troubled his Minde
_Carbuncle Stones_ how he might finde;

And where to find wise men and trewe,
Which would for his interest pursue,
In seeking all the Worlde about,
Plenty of Carbuncles to find out;
For this he took so mickle thought,
That his fatt flesh wasted nigh to naught.[253]

It is scarcely necessary to add that the poor parson never realized his
dream, but the story shows how popular was the belief that carbuncles
or rubies shone with their own light.

A luminous or phosphorescent stone, which has been named the Bologna
stone, is the subject of a treatise published by the physician Mentzel
in 1675.[254] The writer describes various experiments made to test
the peculiar qualities of this mineral, which is partly a radiated or
crystalline sulphate of barytes, and phosphoresces when calcined. It
was sometimes called the “lunar stone” (_lapis lunaris_), because,
like the moon, it gave out in the darkness the light it received from
the sun. Mentzel also relates that the stone was first discovered, in
1604, by Vincenzio Casscioroli, an adept in alchemy, who believed that
it would be a great aid in the transmutation of the baser metals into
gold, on account of its solar quality. The place of its occurrence was
Monte Paterno, near Bologna, where it appeared in the fissures of the
mountain, after torrential rains.

The various phenomena of fluorescence and phosphorescence undoubtedly
explain some at least of the legends regarding luminous stones,
superstition or fantasy having here as in most other cases a certain
substratum of fact. This class of physical phenomena has been made
the subject of special investigation by the author, as many as
13,000 specimens of various minerals having been subjected to the
most searching tests in order to determine their qualities in this
respect.[255] His interest in this field of research was greatly
stimulated by a fortuitous happening. In 1891 his wife, while hanging
up a gown in a closet one evening, saw that the diamond in a ring she
was wearing gave off a faint streak of light which was very noticeable
in the dark, and this fact led to a long series of experiments on
the fluorescence, phosphorescence, and triboluminescence of the
diamond.[256] More than two centuries before, Robert Boyle made a
similar set of experiments at night with a diamond which must have been
an Indian stone, and which he describes as table cut, about one-third
of an inch long and somewhat less in width; he remarks that it was a
dull stone of very bad water, having a blemish with a whitish cloud
covering nearly a third of the stone.[257]

The “Journal des Sçavans” for 1739 gives certain tests of the luminous
quality of diamonds made by Mons. Du Fay. In order successfully to
observe this phenomenon, he prescribes that the experimenter shall
remain in a darkened room for fifteen minutes, taking the additional
precaution of closing one or both of his eyes. The diamond to be
tested should be exposed to the sun’s rays, or to strong daylight, for
less than a minute, and when taken into darkness the luminosity, if
observable, lasts twelve or thirteen minutes at longest. Not all
diamonds show this quality, and nothing in their form or appearance
serves to determine their possession of it. However, Mons. du Fay
observed that the yellow diamonds, of which he tried a considerable
number, were luminous. A single emerald, out of twenty that were
tested, proved to be luminous.[258]

Boyle’s experiments led to the discovery that some diamonds, when
rubbed against wood or other hard substances, and even against cloth or
silk, will emit a ray of light which seems to follow them; this is what
is called triboluminescence.

The power of absorbing sunlight or artificial light and then giving
it off in the dark is only possessed by certain diamonds. These are
Brazilian stones, slightly milky in tint, or blue-white as they are
often termed, and it is an included substance and not the diamond
itself that possesses the power of storing up light and then giving it
out. Willemite, kunzite, sphalerite (sulphide of zinc) and some other
minerals possess the same power. Their peculiar property may be due to
the presence of a slight quantity of manganese or to that of some of
the uranium salts. That it is only the ultra-violet rays that are thus
absorbed by these diamonds is proved by the fact that the phenomenon
is not observable when a thin plate of glass is interposed between the
sunlight or artificial light and the diamond, as glass is not traversed
by these rays. The still undetermined substance to whose presence in
diamonds of this type the special class of phenomena must be due,
was named by the author tiffanyite, in honor of the late Charles L.
Tiffany (1812-1902), founder of the firm of Tiffany & Company.[259]

On the other hand all diamonds phosphoresce when exposed to the rays of
radium, polonium, or actinium, even when glass is interposed. Treating
of some of the aspects of phosphorescence in diamonds, Sir William
Crookes says:[260]

In a vacuum, exposed to a high-tension current of electricity,
diamonds phosphoresce of different colours, most South African
diamonds shining with a bluish light. Diamonds from other localities
emit bright blue, apricot, pale blue, red, yellowish-green, orange,
and pale green light. The most phosphorescent diamonds are those
which are fluorescent in the sun. One beautiful green diamond in my
collection, when phosphorescing in a good vacuum, gives almost as much
light as a candle, and you can easily read by its rays. But the time
has hardly come when diamonds can be used as domestic illuminants!

By permission of Mrs. Kunz, wife of the well-known New York
mineralogist, I will show you perhaps the most remarkable of all
phosphorescing diamonds. This prodigy diamond will phosphoresce in
the dark for some minutes after being exposed to a small pocket
electric light, and if rubbed on a piece of cloth a long streak of
phosphorescence appears.

The luminescence produced by heat is wonderfully marked in the case
of chlorophane, a variety of fluorite. A Siberian specimen of a pale
violet color emitted a white light merely from the heat of the hand;
boiling water caused it to give out a green light, which was so greatly
intensified when the specimen rested on a live coal that the radiance
could be discerned from a considerable distance. Similar phenomena were
observable in the case of chlorophane from Amelia Court House, Va.,
and the writer found that specimens from this source also exhibited
strong triboluminescence, resulting either from contact with one
another, or with any hard substance.[261]

As the terms fluorescence and phosphorescence are sometimes rather
carelessly employed, it may be well to note here that while both terms
are used to denote the luminescence of a non-luminous body resulting
from the action of light rays, of the electric current, or of radiant
energy of any kind, as well as from heat, fluorescence signifies a
luminosity which only continues so long as the exciting cause is
present, while phosphorescence means a luminosity persisting for a
longer or shorter period after the exciting cause has ceased to operate
directly. The latter term therefore denotes a luminous energy stored up
in the formerly non-luminous body and emitted by it for a certain time,
at the expiration of which it again becomes non-luminous. Other special
designations of induced luminosity in minerals are triboluminescence,
the emission of light as a result of friction and thermoluminescence, a
term used to denote light-emission excited by moderate heating, even by
the warmth of the hand.

An old treatise in Greek, said in its title to come from “the sanctuary
of the temple,” and containing material, partly of Egyptian origin,
may help us to understand something of the processes employed by a
temple priest to impress the common people by the sight of luminous
gems. The writer of the treatise declares that for the production of
“the carbuncle that shines in the night” use was made of certain parts
(he says “the bile”) of marine animals whose entrails, scales and
bones exhibited the phenomenon of phosphorescence. If properly treated,
precious stones (preferably carbuncles) would glow so brightly at night
“that anyone owning such a stone could read or write by its light as
well as he could by daylight.”[262]

In the _Annales de Chimie et Physique_, the great French chemist,
M. Berthelot, discusses this matter and expresses the following
opinion[263]

“The texts leave no room for doubt as to the employment by the
ancients of precious stones rendered phosphorescent in the dark by
the superficial application of tinctures composed of materials whose
phosphorescent quality is known to us. Although this luminescence, due
to an application of organic oxidizable materials, could not well be
durable, still it might be made to last several hours, perhaps several
days, and it could always be renewed by repeating the application.”

The use of jewelled ornaments to heighten by their luminosity in
obscurity or in darkness the effect produced by a sacred image, and
to stimulate religious awe in the beholder, is testified to by the
ultra-Protestant traveller, Fynes Moryson, Gent., who went to Italy
in 1594. Of his visit to the Santa Casa in Loreto, he says that he
himself and two Dutchmen, his companions, were permitted to enter the
inner chapel of the sanctuary, “where,” he proceeds, “we did see the
Virgin’s picture, adorned with pretious Jewels, and the place (to
increase religious horror) being darke, yet the Jewels shined by the
light of wax candles.” Although there is no question here of naturally
luminous gems, this might have been the impression produced upon a
more sympathetic pilgrim.[264]

Writing of the traditions in regard to luminous stones, Sir Richard F.
Burton says, “There may be a basis of fact to this fancy, the abnormal
effect of precious stones upon mesmeric sensitives.”[265] However,
while some instances are recorded of psychic impression produced by
precious stones on the minds of persons possessing a highly sensitive
nervous system, it seems likely that some legends of luminous stones
had their origin in the refractive powers of cut gems, by means of
which a dim and distant light would be reflected from the surface of
the stones and would seem to spring from them. Quite possibly, in other
instances, there was a disposition to cater to the popular belief
by placing a light so that the hidden beams traversed the stone and
appeared to emanate from it.


VI

On Crystal Balls and Crystal Gazing


We have evidence of the use of crystal balls as means of divination
in medieval times, and “scrying” in some of its many forms was by no
means rare in the Greek and Roman periods. The essential requisite for
the exercise of this species of divination is a polished surface of
some sort upon which the scryer shall gaze intently; for this purpose
mirrors, globules of lead or quicksilver, polished steel, the surface
of water, and even pools of ink, have been employed and have been found
to insure quite as satisfactory results as the crystal ball. The points
of light reflected from the polished surface (_points de repère_)
serve to attract the attention of the gazer and to fix the eye until,
gradually, the optic nerve becomes so fatigued that it finally ceases
to transmit to the sensorium the impression made from without and
begins to respond to the reflex action proceeding from the brain of the
gazer. In this way the impression received from within is apparently
projected and seems to come from without. It is easy to understand that
the results must vary according to the idiosyncrasy of the various
scryers; for everything depends upon the sensitiveness of the optic
nerve. In many cases the effect of prolonged gazing upon the brilliant
surface will simply produce a loss of sight, the optic nerve will be
temporarily paralyzed and will as little respond to stimulation from
within as from without; in other cases, however, the nerve will be only
deadened as regards external impressions, while retaining sufficient
activity to react against a stimulus from the brain centres. It is
almost invariably stated that, prior to the appearance of the desired
visions, the crystal seems to disappear and a mist rises before the
gazer’s eye.

The Achaians, as Pausanius relates, frequently used a mirror to divine
diseases or to learn whether there was danger of sudden death. Of the
Temple of Demeter, or Ceres, at Patras, he writes:[266]

In front of the temple of Demeter there is a well. A stone wall
separates this well from the temple, but steps lead down to it from
the outside. Here there is an infallible oracle, although it does not
answer all questions, but only those touching diseases. They attach a
slender cord to a mirror and let it down into the well, balancing it
carefully so that the water does not cover the face, but only touches
the rim. Then, after making a prayer to the goddess and burning
incense to her, they look into the mirror, and it shows whether the
sick person will die or recover. Such is the power of truth in this
water.

This sacred well with its oracle of the magic mirror must have been in
Lucian’s mind when, in his description of the palace of the Moon-King,
he says:[267]

Another wonderful thing I saw in the palace. Suspended over a rather
shallow well there is a large mirror, and anyone who goes down into
this well will hear every word that is spoken on earth, while, if he
gazes on the mirror, he will see there every city and every nation
just as clearly as though he were looking down upon them from a slight
elevation. At the time I was there, I saw my native country and its
inhabitants. Whether I myself was seen by them in turn, I am not sure.

Lucian adds, with a fine touch of irony, “Anyone who doubts this
assertion needs only to go there himself and he will find out that
I speak the truth.” As no one has yet made a trip to the moon, the
assertion is still uncontradicted.

In their religious legends the ancient Mexicans taught that their
god Tezcatlipuco had a magic mirror in which he saw everything that
happened in the world.[268] He was sometimes named Necocyautl, “sower
of discord,” because he often stirred up war and strife among men,
but he was also lord of riches and prosperity, which he bestowed
and took away again at his will. To the influence of this divinity
were attributed many omens and certain strange visions, announced by
repeated knockings.[269]

In the Orphic poem “Lithica,” a magic sphere of stone is described.
The substance is called “sideritis” or “ophitis,” and is said to be
black, round, and heavy; possibly some metal, rather than a stone, is
designated by these names. Helenus, the Trojan soothsayer, is said to
have used this sphere to foretell the downfall of his native city.
He fasted for twenty-one days and then wrapped the sphere in soft
garments, like an infant, and offered sacrifices to it until, by the
magic of his prayers, “a living soul warmed the precious substance.”

A strange variety of divination by means of mirrors placed on the heads
of boys, who, with eyes blindfolded, were supposed to perceive forms
or signs of some description in the mirrors, is noted by Spartianus
in his life of the Emperor Didius Julianus (ca. 133-193). This ruler
is said to have resorted to this form of divination, and the boy
entrusted with the task is asserted to have announced the approaching
accession of Septimius Severus (146-211) and the dethronement of Didius
Julianus.[270]

An indication that the usage of divination by means of a silver cup
existed among the primitive Hebrews has been found in the story of
Joseph and his brethren. In Genesis xliv, 1-5, we read that Joseph
concealed a silver cup in the sack of grain borne away by Benjamin,
making of this a pretext for requiring the return of his brethren.
He sent messengers to overtake them and directed them to demand the
return of the cup, using these words: “Is not this it in which my lord
drinketh, and whereby indeed he divineth?”

The Arabic author, Haly Abou Gefar, tells of a golden ball used by
“the Magi, followers of Zoroaster,” in their incantations. It was
incrusted with celestial symbols and set with a sapphire, and one of
these magicians, after attaching it to a strip of bullhide, swung it
around, reciting at the same time various spells and incantations.[271]
Probably the magician, by fixing his gaze upon the brilliant revolving
sphere, gradually fell into a hypnotic trance, during which visions
appeared to him. These he could afterward interpret to those who had
sought his aid to read the future, or obtain information regarding
things that were happening far away.

An important side-light on the beliefs of Western Europe, in the fifth
century, regarding crystal-gazing, is afforded by one of the canons of
the synod held about 450 A.D. by St. Patrick and the bishops Auxilius
and Issernanus. Here it is decreed that any Christian who believes
there is a Lamia (or witch) in the mirror is to be anathematized,
and is not to be again received into the Church unless he shall have
renounced this belief and shall have diligently performed the penance
imposed upon him.[272] In this case, as in many others, the vision in
the crystal or mirror did not represent some former or contemporaneous
happening, but the figure of an evil spirit, who, either by signs or
words, imparted to the scryer the information he was seeking.

The power to see images of evil spirits on the surface of water was
claimed by those called _hydromantii_ in the ninth century. This is
attested in a work composed about 860 A.D. by Hincmar, Archbishop
of Rheims, who characterizes the supposed appearances as “images or
deceptions of the demons.” These diviners asserted that they received
audible communications from the spirits, and they therefore evidently
believed that the appearances were realities.[273]

Although, as we have seen, many different materials were used for
scrying, the preference was often given to polished spheres of beryl;
in modern times, however, the rock-crystal is considered the best
adapted for the purpose.

In his introduction to “Crystal Gazing,” by N. W. Thomas,[274] Andrew
Lang writes of what he terms hypnagogic illusions—images which appear
when the eyes are closed and before sleep supervenes. When faces
appeared to him in this way, they were always unfamiliar ones, with the
single exception of having once seen his own face in profile. The same
was almost invariably true of landscape and inanimate objects. These
forms seemed to grow out of the bright points of light which frequently
appear when the eyes are closed, and Lang suggests a similar origin for
the visions of the “scryers”—namely, the development of the images
from dark or light points in the glass.

In regard to this, we have an interesting passage in the works of Ibn
Kaldoun, a Persian writer, born in 1332, who gives the following very
acute analysis of the phenomena accompanying crystal-gazing.[275]

Some believe that the image perceived in this way takes form on the
surface of the mirror, but they are mistaken. The diviner looks at
this surface fixedly until it disappears, and a curtain, like a mist,
is interposed between him and the mirror. Upon this curtain are
designed the forms he wishes to see, and this permits him to give
indications, either affirmative or negative, concerning the matter on
which he is questioned. He then describes his perceptions as he has
received them. The diviners, while in this state, do not see what is
really to be seen (in the mirror); it is another kind of perception,
which is born in them and which is realized not by sight but by the
soul.

As to the character and quality of the crystal to be used, Abbot
Tritheim, the master of the famous Cornelius Agrippa, says:[276]

Procure of a lapidary a good, clear, pellucid crystal of the bigness
of a small orange,—_i.e._, about one inch and a half in diameter;
let it be globular, or round each way alike; then you have got this
crystal fair and clear, without any clouds or specks. Get a small
plate of pure gold to encompass the crystal round one-half; let this
be fitted on an ivory or ebony pedestal. Let there be engraved a
circle round the crystal; afterwards the name: Tetragrammaton. On
the other side of the plate let there be engraved, Michael, Gabriel,
Uriel, Raphael, which are the four principal angels ruling over the
Sun, Moon, Venus, and Mercury.

The four letters constituting the Tetragrammaton are the Hebrew
characters _yôdh_, _hê_, _wâw_ and _hê_, יהוה. As this divine name
was regarded in later Judaism as too sacred to be pronounced, the
word lord, _adonai_, was substituted for it in the reading of the
Scriptures. For this reason, when the vowel signs were added to the
text to indicate the traditional pronunciation, the consonants Yhwh
were provided with the vowels of _adonai_ and the name was therefore
read Jehovah by Christian scholars.

The Persian poet Jâmi writes thus of a magic mirror in the poem
“Salamân and Absal”:[277]

Then from his secret Art the Sage Vizyr
A Magic Mirror made; a Mirror like
The bosom of All-wise Intelligence,
Reflecting in its mystic compass all
Within the sev’nfold volume of the World
Involved; and looking in that Mirror’s face
The Shah beheld the face of his Desire.

Roger Bacon (1214-1292) was probably the most gifted man of the
thirteenth century, and his writings testify to an extraordinarily
clear perception of the essential principles of scientific research.
However, his true greatness was not generally appreciated in his own
age, and popular fancy wove about his name a fabric of legend in which
he appeared as an arch-necromancer and magician. The curious old work
entitled “The Famous Historie of Fryar Bacon” gives a number of the
strange recitals which became current in England in regard to Bacon’s
wonderful powers.

One of these treats of a marvellous “glass” made by the friar, in
which events happening at far-distant places were mirrored. On one
occasion two young men, between whom the friendliest feelings existed,
came to Bacon and requested him to let them see in the mirror what
their fathers were doing at the time. The friar consented, but the
experiment, while successful, was the cause of a terrible misfortune.
The story is as follows:

The Fathers of these two Gentlemen (in their Sonnes absence) were
become great foes: this hatred betweene them was growne to that
height, that wheresoever they met, they had not onely wordes, but
blowes. Just at that time, as it should seeme, that their Sonnes were
looking to see how they were in health, they were met, and had drawne,
and were together by the eares. Their Sonnes seeing this, and having
been alwayes great friends, knew not what to say to one another, but
beheld each other with angry lookes. At last one of their Fathers, as
they might perceive in the Glasse, had a fall, and the other, taking
advantage, stood over him ready to strike him. The Sonne of him that
was downe could then containe himselfe no longer, but told the other
young man, that his Father had received wrong. He answered againe,
that it was faire. At last there grew such foule words betweene them,
and their bloods were so heated, that they presently stabbed the one
the other with their Daggers, and so fell downe dead.

The sceptre of the Scottish regalia is surmounted by a crystal globe,
two inches and a quarter in diameter, and the mace by a large crystal
beryl. In former times these stones were regarded as amulets and their
use was traced back to the Druids. Sir Walter Scott tells us that
in his time they were still known among the Scottish Highlanders as
“Stones of Power.”[278]

The testimony of John of Salisbury (1120?-1180) shows that in the
twelfth century, in England, divination by means of the arts of the
_specularii_ was often practised. The prelate writes that when a boy,
he himself and a companion a few years older received instruction from
a priest who was addicted to the use of these magic arts. This priest
used to polish the finger-nails of the boys with a consecrated oil or
ointment, and then direct them to look upon the polished surface until
some figure or form should appear. Sometimes the smooth, polished
surface of a basin was used. John of Salisbury regarded it as a mark of
divine favor that he himself saw nothing upon the smooth and lustrous
surface, but he states that his companion observed certain vague
and shadowy forms. Certain names pronounced by the priest on these
occasions terrified the boy, for he believed them to be the names of
evil spirits; indeed, such was his reluctance to participate in the
unholy rites that his presence was believed to interfere with the
production of the phenomena.[279]

In another part of his “Policraticus,” John of Salisbury states that
the specularii claimed that their gift of seeing visions on polished
surfaces was never used to injure any one, but was often useful in the
detection of theft and in counteracting magic spells.[280]

Under the comprehensive chapter heading: “How to conjure the crystal
so that all things may be seen in it,” Paracelsus (1493-1541) declares
that “to conjure” means nothing more than “to observe anything rightly,
to learn and to understand what it is.” The crystal was of the nature
of the air, and hence all things movable and immovable that could be
seen in the air could also be seen in the crystal or _speculum_.[281]

Paracelsus showed keen insight, and his conclusions are excellent. One
might add, however, that it is a fact that these are images condensed
in the double convex lens, forming as it were, an internal crystal
sphere. These images are reversed, distorted and twisted, and when they
become visible to one who is expecting strange things, they form mental
impressions which it is often very difficult to erase. Many crystal
gazers are frequently very highly wrought, nervous and susceptible, and
other influences uniting with the impressions produced, may give the
brain for a time the power to evolve kaleidoscopic effects.

Directions for the use of an Erdenspiegel, or “earth-mirror,” are given
in an old German manuscript written in 1658 by a Capuchin priest.[282]
The mirror is to be set about two inches above a board, and the
questions to be answered are to be placed beneath it. The scryer is
recommended to place three grains of salt upon his tongue, whereupon
he is to repeat a prayer and cross himself. He now takes the mirror in
his hand and breathes upon it three times, repeating the words, “In the
name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

These preliminaries having been accomplished, the following prayer, or
rather invocation, is repeated:

O thou holy Archangel N. N., I pray to thee most fervently through the
great and unsearchable name of the Lord of all Lords and King of all
Kings, Jod, He, Vau, He, Tetragrammaton, Adonay, Schaday, receive my
greeting and give ear to the humble petition which I offer in the name
of the great and highest God, Elohim, Zebaoth, that thou shalt appear
to me in the world-mirror, and give me knowledge and instruction in
answer to my questions.

The strong religious tone of these directions for the use of the mirror
and the fact that it is a priest who gives them, shows that there was a
disposition to tolerate the employment of such “white magic.”

In medieval times it was believed that the vision in the crystal was
produced through the agency of an indwelling spirit, and, therefore,
it was necessary to use some very potent spell to force this spirit
to enter the stone. Many of these ancient spells have been preserved,
and they contain a strange and incongruous mixture of religious and
magical formulas. In one of these, dating from the end of the fifteenth
century, after a recitation of a long and rambling conjuration, we
read: “And y^{en} ask y^e chylde yf h^e seethe any thyng, and yf no,
let the m^r begin his conjuratyō agayn.” As usual the scrying was done
by a child, the conjuration being spoken by the minister. An important
part of the conjuration consisted in the repetition of a number of
divine names, most of them originally Hebrew, but so much corrupted
by reciters who did not know their meaning that it is now exceedingly
difficult to interpret them correctly.

A proof that this form of magic was often regarded as quite compatible
with religion is offered us in a passage from a sixteenth century
manuscript,[283] where we read that the crystal should be laid on the
altar “on the Side that the gospell is read on. And let the priest say
a mass on the same Side.” If the conjuration is successful, the same
manuscript tells us that “these angells being once appeared will not
depart the glasse or stone untill the Sonne be sett except you licence
them.” It also seems that “scrying” was looked upon as a special gift,
only granted to a favored few as a peculiar privilege, and we read
that “Prayer and a good beleefe prevailed much. For faith is the cay to
this and all other works, and without it nothing can be effected.” The
child scryer, either maid or boy, should not be more than twelve years
old.

That a certain religious spirit, however mistaken, often animated the
crystal-gazers of the sixteenth century, is shown in the case of the
“speculator” of John a Windor, who confessed that when he led an impure
life the “dæmons” would not appear to him in his glass. He would then
proceed to fumigate the apartment, as though believing that the very
air was contaminated by the sins of the operator. We may hope that
the seer was not content with this, but also tried to reform his evil
ways. Another scryer, a woman named Sarah Skelhorn, declared that the
spirits that appeared to her in the glass would often follow her about
the house from room to room, so that she at last became weary of their
presence.[284] Both of these scryers had regular employment, for it was
quite customary for a gentleman to have a household seer, just as he
would have a body-physician, if he could afford it.

A sixteenth century work on magic, the “Höllenzwang” of Dr. Faustus,
whose name has been immortalized for all ages by Goethe, gives very
particular and detailed directions for the preparation and consecration
of a crystal, whether glass or quartz. Faust asks his “Mephistophelis”
whether such crystals can be made, and the spirit replies: “Yes,
indeed, my Faust,” and directs Faust to go, on a Tuesday, to a
glass-maker, and get the latter to form a glass. It was requisite that
this work should be done in the hour of Mars, that is, in the first,
eighth, fifteenth or twenty-second hour of Tuesday. The crystal when
completed must not be accepted as a gift, but a price must be paid
for it. When the object had been secured, Mephistopheles directs that
it be buried in a grave, where it must be left for the space of three
weeks; it was then to be unearthed; if a woman purchased it, she must
bury it in a woman’s grave. However, these preliminaries only served to
prepare the crystal for the final consecration, as the mere material
mass was regarded as inert and possessing no virtue until certain
spirits were summoned to dwell within it. Mephistopheles confesses
that he alone would not be powerful enough, and he directs Faust to
call upon the spirits Azeruel and Adadiel also. Faust is assured that
the three spirits will show him in the crystal whatever he may wish to
know. If anything has been stolen, the thief will appear; if any one is
suffering from disease, the character of his malady will be revealed,
etc.[285]

Another way of preparing a crystal glass or mirror is given in the same
work. After the glass has been bought it is to be immersed in baptismal
water in which a first-born male child has been baptized, and therein
it is to remain for three weeks. The water is then to be poured out
over a grave and the sixth chapter of the Revelation of St. John is to
be read. Hereupon the following conjuration should be pronounced:

O crystal, thou art a pure and tender virgin, thou standest at one
of the gates of heaven, that nothing may be hidden from thee; thou
standest under a cloud of heaven that nothing may be hidden from
thee, whether in fields or meadows, whether master or servant, whether
wife or maid. Let this be said to thee in the name of God, as a plea
for thy help.[286]

The visions seen in crystal gazing were often supposed to be the work
of evil spirits, seeking to seduce the souls of men by offering the
promise of riches or by according them an unlawful glimpse into the
future. Here, as in other magical operations, there was both white and
black magic, recourse being had in some cases to good, and in others to
evil spirits. As an illustration of the latter practice, a sixteenth
century writer relates that in the city of Nuremberg, some time during
the year 1530, a “demon” showed to a priest, in a crystal, the vision
of a buried treasure. Believing in the truth of this vision, the priest
went to the spot indicated, where he found an excavation in the form of
a cavern, in the depths of which he could see a chest and a black dog
lying alongside it. Eagerly the priest entered the cavern, hoping to
possess himself of the treasure, but the top of the excavation caved in
and he was crushed to death.[287]

The famous charlatan, Dr. Dee, who was for a time a prominent figure at
the court of Emperor Rudolph II, was highly favored by Queen Elizabeth.
The queen visited him several times, and even appears to have consulted
him on political matters. In his diary the doctor relates that the
queen called at his house shortly after his wife’s death, which took
place March 16, 1575. Of this visit he gives the following details:

The Queen’s Majestie, with her most honorable Privy Council, and other
the Lords and Nobility, came purposely to have visited my library: but
finding that my wife was within four hours before buried out of the
house, her Majestie refused to come in; but willed to fetch my glass
so famous, and to show unto her some of the properties of it, which
I did. Her Majestie being taken down from her horse by the Earle of
Liecester, Master of the Horse, at the church wall of Mortlake, did
see some of the properties of that glass, to her Majestie’s great
contentment and delight.[288]

It was at Mortlake, on December 22, 1581, that Dr. Dee made his first
essay with his crystal ball. The proceedings were conducted with a
certain religious ceremonial, and began with a pious invocation to
the angel of the stone. This celestial being soon graciously deigned
to manifest himself in the stone and—presumably by the voice of the
scryer—answered the questions put by those present.

There can be little doubt that Dee used more than one crystal in
the course of his experiments; that now in the British Museum is of
cairngorm, or “smoky-quartz.” This variety of quartz may have been
chosen because of the Scotch superstitions regarding its virtues; for,
as a rule, charlatans seek to avail themselves of already existing
superstitions in order to make their innovations more acceptable.

To give assurance to those who consulted such crystals that no
diabolical agency was involved in the production of the phenomena, it
was customary that a child should be the crystal-gazer. In Dr. Dee’s
experiments, however, it was usually the notorious Kelley, his _âme
damnée_, who undertook this task of interpreting the crystal visions.
The description given by Dee of a little girl who frequently acted as
the intermediary of the higher powers suggests one of the fanciful
creations of our great novelist Hawthorne. Her mystic name was Madimi,
and she is depicted as a pretty girl about eight years old, and with
long flowing hair. To make her appearance more conspicuous, she was
attired in a silk dress with chatoyant effects in red and green.
At times, during the séances, this gay little figure could be seen
flitting about the study, rendered even more whimsical and strange from
its contrast with the piles of dusty old books, the curiosities, and
the magical instruments collected there.[289]

This visionary maiden Madimi, of whom Dee relates so much in his
diary, was apparently a child of fancy, a creation of Kelley’s fertile
brain. The diary is somewhat obscure in this particular and easily
misunderstood; but there can be little doubt that where Madimi is
represented as speaking, it is Kelley’s voice that transmits to Dee her
revelations. One passage, often overlooked, gives evidence of this.
Madimi has appeared and is addressing her remarks to Kelley and to
Dee by turns; finally, Dee says, “I know you see me often and I see
you only by faith and imagination.” To this Madimi quickly retorts,
“pointing to E. K.” (Kelley), “That sight is perfecter than his.”
Evidently we must understand this to signify something that Kelley has
told Dee, for the latter’s words show that he did not himself see the
little fairy pointing to his friend. In many respects little Madimi may
recall another “spiritual” maiden of whom we heard much a few years
ago, the sprightly little Indian spirit “Bright Eyes,” whose love for
candy and jewelry was so very earthly.

Not only the quality of the crystal had to be considered, but also its
support and surroundings. Of this we have an interesting instance in
the case of Dr. Dee’s crystal. In one of his manuscripts is recorded
the fact that on the 10th of March, 1582, Kelley saw in the crystal
a representation of the form and arrangement of the table on which
it should be set; particular instructions on the matter were also
directly imparted to the scryer by the angel Uriel. The table was to
be square, measuring two cubits each way and two cubits in height;
and it was to have four feet. The material was to be “swete wood” and
upon it was to be placed the Sigillum Dei (Seal of God) impressed upon
the purest, colorless wax, the disk being 1⅛ inches thick and 9
inches in diameter. It bore a cross and the magic letters A. G. L. A.,
a transliteration into Roman characters of the initials of the Hebrew
words signifying “Thou are great forever, O Lord.” Four other and
smaller seals were to be provided, one to be placed under each leg of
the table; each of these seals being impressed with geometrical figures
within or upon which were the seven sacred names of God and the names
of the seven angels ruling the seven planetary heavens; Zabothiel,
Zedekiel, Madiniel, Semeliel [Semeshiel], Nogabiel, Corabiel [Cocabiel]
and Levaniel, the angels, respectively, of Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, the
Sun, Venus, Mercury and the Moon. There then appeared to the scryer the
figure of the table with the crystal resting upon it. Of this it is
said:[290]

“Under the table did seeme to be layd red sylk to lye four square
somewhat broader than the table, hanging down with four knops or
tassells at the four corners thereof. Uppon the uppermost red silk
did seme to be set the stone with the frame, right over and uppon the
principal seal, saving that the sayd sylk was betwene the one and the
other.”

It therefore seems that the prejudice in favor of a black or at least a
dark background for the crystal did not appeal to Dr. Dee, and indeed
the effect of color may perhaps better serve to neutralize troublesome
reflections than does black.

The personages Kelley pretended to see in or around the magic crystal
were described by him to Dr. Dee in the greatest detail, and this
undoubtedly served to lend more reality and authority to their
communications. As an illustration of Kelley’s inventiveness in this
matter, we may take his description of “Nalvage,” a spirit that first
appeared while the doctor and his famulus were in Cracow, April 10,
1584, and was subsequently a frequent visitor. The seer introduces his
new “control” as follows:[291]

He hath a Gown of white silk, with a Cape with three pendants with
tassels on the end of them all green; it is fur, white, and seemeth to
shine, with a wavering glittering. On his head is nothing, he hath no
berd. His phisiognomy is like the pictures of King Edward the Sixth;
his hair hangeth down a quarter of the length of the Cap, somewhat
curling, yellow. He hath a rod or wand in his hand, almost as big as
my little finger; it is of Gold, and divided into three equal parts,
with a brighter Gold than the rest. He standeth upon his round table
of Christal, or rather Mother of Pearl.

When reading the words spoken by Kelley and so carefully preserved by
Dr. Dee, we are reminded, aside from the archaic turn of speech, of the
minute descriptions so glibly given by modern mediums. It is true that
lately, in America, the spirits of the former owners of the land, of
the blameless aborigines, seem to have acquired a quasi monopoly of the
intercourse with the other world.

Most of the early records of crystal-gazing show conclusively
enough that the images revealed in the stone were produced by the
expectations, the hopes, or the fears of the gazer. In many cases,
indeed, the vision is only prophetic because it determines the future
conduct of the person who consults the stone. Fully persuaded that what
has been seen must come to pass, he, or she, proceeds more or less
consciously to make it happen, to fulfil the prediction.

As an instance of this we may take from an old German book[292] the
tale of a lovelorn maiden who seeks the aid of an enchantress to
learn whether she will marry her lover, upon whom her parents look
with disfavor. The mystic crystal is brought out wrapped in a yellow
handkerchief, and is placed in a green bowl beneath which is spread a
blue cloth, the reflections from these different colors being probably
calculated to stimulate the optic nerve and favor the appearance of
some picture upon the polished surface of the crystal. The young
girl, in rapt attention, looks long and earnestly; at last she cries
out that she sees her own form and that of her lover. Both look pale
and sad, and they appear to be about to set forth upon a long and
perilous journey, for the lover wears riding-boots and carries a brace
of pistols. The girl is so terrified at the sight that she faints
away. The sequel of this vision is a runaway match, and we can easily
understand that when the lover proposed this adventure, the girl
believed that it was written in the book of fate and willingly agreed
to undertake it.

The great humorous poem “Hudibras,” wherein all the foibles of the
seventeenth century are castigated, does not fail to make mention of
Dee and Kelley and their crystal. Of the sorcerer whose aid Hudibras
seeks we are told:[293]

He’d read Dee’s prefaces before,
The Dev’l and Euclid o’er and o’er;
And all th’ intrigues ’twixt him and Kelley,
Lascus and th’ Emperor, would tell ye.

Kelley did all his feats upon
The devil’s looking-glass, a stone
Where, playing with him at bo-peep
He solved all problems ne’er so deep.

In his experiments in crystal-gazing, Dr. Dee evidently used more than
one crystal, and did not indeed confine the operations of his scryer
or scryers to brilliant spheres. In the collection of Horace Walpole,
at Strawberry Hill, was a polished slab of black stone, obsidian, from
Mexico. This came into the possession of Mr. Smythe Piggott and later
(1853) into that of Lord Londesborough; it is now in the collection
of Prince Alexis Soltykoff. Horace Walpole wrote a label for the
stone, in which he says that it had long been owned by the Mordaunts,
Earls of Peterborough, and was described in the catalogue of their
collection as the black stone into which Dr. Dee used to call his
spirits. Later it was owned by John Campbell, Duke of Argyle, who gave
it to Horace Walpole.[294] Undoubtedly any polished surface, whether
flat or convex, might serve the purpose of the scryer almost equally
well; the possible advantage of a convex or a spherical form consists
in the multiplying of the reflections and light points so that the
sight is induced to wander from point to point, and that forms and
even motions are suggested by the superposition and combination of the
various reflections. Often, too, a light point visible to one eye will
not be so to the other, this sometimes provoking the phenomenon of
binocular vision, which asserts itself for a moment or two, when the
diverse images coalesce again, though imperfectly, giving an impression
of movement. For one gifted with imagination and the natural quality
of visualizing brain-pictures, these shifting light-points and the
more or less definite and repeated reflections of surrounding objects
offer abundant material out of which to construct lifelike pictures
apparently seen in the crystal. That the brain-pictures thus thrown
out, so to speak, upon the crystal, may or may not have a peculiar
psychic value, other than their value as mere phenomena, depends upon
the significance we are inclined to attribute to the processes of the
subconscious intelligence; of its existence, indeed, there can be no
doubt, and many of our best thinkers incline to the belief that through
it the narrow limits of our personality are occasionally transcended.

The following history and description of a crystal ball is given by
John Aubrey (1626-1697):

I have here set down the figure of a consecrated Beryl—now in the
possession of Sir Edward Harley, Knight of the Bath, which he keeps
in his closet at Brampton Bryan in Herefordshire amongst his Cimelia,
which I saw there. It came first from Norfolk; a minister had it
there, and a call was to be made with it. Afterwards a miller had it
and he did work great cures with it (if curable), and in the Beryl
they did see, either the receipt in writing, or else the herb. To this
minister, the spirits or angels would appear openly, and because the
miller (who was his familiar friend) one day happened to see them, he
gave him the aforesaid Beryl and Call; by these angels the minister
was forewarned of his death. This account I had from Mr. Ashmole.
Afterwards this Beryl came into somebody’s hand in London who did tell
strange things by it; insomuch that at last he was questioned for it,
and it was taken away by authority (it was about 1645). This Beryl
is a perfect sphere, the diameter of it I guess to be something more
than an inch; it is set in a ring, or circle, of silver, resembling
the meridian of a globe; the stem of it is about ten inches high, all
gilt. At the four quarters of it are the names of four angels, viz:
Uriel, Raphael, Michael, Gabriel. On the top is a cross patee.[295]

In his “Saducismus Triumphatus,” Joseph Glanvil writes that “one
Compton of Summersetshire, who practised Physick, and pretends to
strange Matters,” demonstrated his power to evoke the image of a
distant person on the surface of a mirror. Glanvil relates that Compton
offered to show to a Mr. Hill any one the latter wished to see. Hill
“had no great confidence in his talk,” but replied that he desired to
see his wife who was many miles distant. “Upon this, Compton took up
a Looking-glass that was in the Room, and setting it down again, bid
my Friend look in it, which he did, and then, as he most solemnly and
seriously professeth, he saw the exact Image of his Wife, in that Habit
which she then wore and working at her Needle in such a part of the
Room (then represented also) in which and about which time she really
was, as he found upon enquiry when he came home. The Gentleman himself
averred this to me, and he is a very sober, intelligent, and credible
Person. Compton had no knowledge of him before, and was an utter
stranger to the Person of his Wife. He was by all accounts a very odd
Person.”[296]

A contemporary record recites that when a certain Sir Marmaduke
Langdale (of the seventeenth century) was in Italy, he went to a
sorcerer and was shown in a glass his own figure kneeling before a
crucifix. Though a Protestant at this time, he shortly after became
a Catholic.[297] If we exclude all idea of trickery, it is likely
enough that the idea of becoming a Catholic was already present to the
scryer’s mind and called up this picture before him.

The celebrated Cagliostro, a Sicilian whose real name was Giuseppe
Balsamo, among his other arts to excite curiosity and play upon the
superstition of his contemporaries, had recourse to a species of
crystal-gazing. In the only authentic biography of this extraordinary
impostor occurs the following passage, which we give in Carlyle’s
version:[298]

Cagliostro brought a little Boy into the Lodge, son of a nobleman
there. He placed him on his knees before a table, whereon stood a
Bottle of pure water, and behind this some lighted candles: he made
an exorcism round the boy, put his hand on his head and both, in this
attitude, addressed their prayers to God for the happy accomplishment
of the work. Having bid the child look into the Bottle, directly the
child cried that he saw a garden. Knowing hereby that Heaven assisted
him, Cagliostro took courage, and bade the child ask of God the grace
to see the angel Michael. At first the child said: “I see something
white; I know not what it is.” Then he began jumping, stamping like
a possessed creature, and cried: “There now! I see a child like
myself, that seems to have something angelical.” All the assembly, and
Cagliostro himself, remained speechless with emotion…. The child
being anew exorcised with the hand of the Venerable on his head, and
the customary prayer addressed to Heaven, he looked into the Bottle,
and said he saw his sister at that moment coming down stairs, and
embracing one of her brothers. That appeared impossible, the brother
in question being then hundreds of miles off; however, Cagliostro felt
not disconcerted; said they might send to the country-house where the
sister was, and see.

Taken all in all this experiment does not seem very satisfactory; but
we have in it all the essential phases of crystal-gazing. Excitement
and expectation produced their usual effect upon an impressionable
child, and suggestion did the rest; the final vision may have been
corroborated in some way, or, if not, it would be explained so as to
convince those present at the experiment that the child had really seen
a representation of some actual happening.

During the Terror, among those upon whom fell the suspicions of the
Jacobins was General Marlière. He knew that a trial and quite probably
a condemnation awaited him. A few days before the date fixed for his
appearance before his judges, he met a colonel in the French army,
who had served in the American Revolutionary War, and who was a firm
believer in the truth of the visions seen in crystal balls. In the
course of the conversation this subject was alluded to, and the general
immediately declared that he was eager to put the matter to the test,
and learn, if possible, what fate was in store for him. The colonel
was at first very unwilling to undertake the experiment, probably he
thought that General Marlière’s doom was sealed, and, believing as
he did in the revelations of the crystal, he dreaded the results;
however, the general insisted and the experiment took place. As usual,
the medium was an “innocent child.” In the crystal appeared a man
wearing a private’s uniform of the National Guard struggling with one
wearing a general’s uniform. The child was much excited and terrified
by the sight, exclaiming that the general’s assailant had thrown him
down and was beheading him. That the vision portended the general’s
execution was clear enough, but the peculiar dress of the executioner
was a mystery to those present at the test, for the official garb bore
no resemblance whatever to a soldier’s uniform. The prediction was,
however, fulfilled to the letter. General Marlière was tried, found
guilty, and guillotined. This in itself did not mean much in view of
the innumerable executions in the time of the Terror; but, on the
day of this execution, Samson, the official executioner, desiring to
gratify his personal vanity and to attract the gaze of the spectators,
dressed himself in the uniform of a national guardsman.[299] That
this altogether unusual circumstance, which could scarcely have been
known to any of those who assisted at the crystal-gazing, should have
been revealed in the crystal, is certainly very mysterious. If we had
positive assurance that the events narrated happened exactly in the way
they are said to have happened, this would be one of the few instances
in which the vision seen in the crystal reproduced something entirely
unknown to the scryer.

Many extraordinary visions are said to have been seen in crystal balls
by a French scryer whose grandmother had clairvoyant powers and was
sometimes consulted by Napoleon I. It is claimed that the grandson has
enjoyed the patronage of many royal personages, and had predicted, in a
more or less definite way, the assassination of King Humbert of Italy,
and the attempted assassination of Alfonso XIII and of his young bride,
when they were returning to the palace after the conclusion of the
marriage ceremony. This French scryer has stated that he is powerfully
affected when he is consulted by any one destined to die a violent
death; on such occasions he feels, in his own organism, a modified form
of the particular kind of suffering they are fated to experience. This
exceptional sensitiveness to occult influences was also shown when the
crystal-gazer went to the Boulaq Museum in Cairo, and gazed upon the
rows of mummies exhibited there; he immediately felt, as intensely as
though it were a personal experience, the mingled sorrow and rage of
the disembodied spirits at seeing their embalmed bodies exposed to the
view of the idle crowd, when they should have been permitted to rest in
their tombs until the hour of the Resurrection.

In England all those who attempted, with a greater or less degree of
success, to reveal the hidden secrets of the future, were expressly
designated as rogues and vagabonds according to the terms of an act
passed June 21, 1824.[300] Such offenders, on being duly convicted
before the Justice of the Peace, could be committed to the House of
Correction, “there to be kept at hard Labour for any time not exceeding
Three Calendar Months.” This class of undesirable citizens comprised
all using “any subtle Craft, Means, or Device, by Palmistry or
otherwise” for the deception of his Majesty’s subjects.

The _h’men_, or diviner, of Yucatan, places great reliance upon his
_zaztun_, or “clear stone.” This may be a quartz crystal, or else some
other translucent stone; but in order to serve for divining purposes
it must be sanctified according to special rites, gum-copal being
burned before it, and certain magic formulas recited, which have been
transmitted from generation to generation in an archaic dialect. When
thus rendered fit for use, the diviner claims to be able to see in the
depths of the crystal the whereabouts of lost articles, and also what
absent persons are doing at the time he makes his observation. Not
only this, but the future is also laid bare before his eyes. As these
stones are supposed to possess such miraculous powers we need not be
surprised that one of them should be found in almost every village in
Yucatan.[301]

The Apache medicine-men are also fully persuaded that crystals possess
the virtue of inducing visions, and they have used them for the purpose
of finding lost property. To aid in the recovery of stolen ponies is
one of the most important tasks of the Apache medicine-man, and to
this end his crystal offers great assistance. Capt. John G. Burke
relates that he made a great friend of a medicine-man named Na-a-che by
giving him a large crystal of denticulated spar, much superior to the
crystal he had been in the habit of using for his visions. That this
was thoroughly satisfactory to the medicine-man at least, is shown by
his statement to Capt. Burke that by looking into his crystal he could
see everything he wanted to see. Of the way this came about he did not
attempt any explanation.[302]

The magic power supposed to dwell within rock-crystal has been
recognized in a peculiar way by some natives of New South Wales. They
have the barbarous custom of knocking out one or more of the front
teeth of their boys at the obligatory initiation ceremonies, and on one
occasion Dr. Howitt was entrusted with the care of a number of these
teeth, which are believed to preserve a certain undefined connection
with the health and fortunes of their former possessors, and on this
account great fear was expressed lest the custodian should place the
precious teeth in the same bag with some rock-crystals, for the natives
thought that the magic power of these crystals would injuriously affect
the teeth, and through them the boys, from whose jaws they had been
broken.[303]

In a paper entitled “The Origin of Jewelry,” read before the British
Association, Professor W. Ridgeley says:

Australians and tribes of New Guinea use crystals for rain-making,
although they cannot bore them, and this stone is a powerful amulet in
Uganda when fastened into leather. Sorcerers in Africa carry a small
bag of pebbles as an important part of their equipment. So it was in
Greece. The crystal was used to light the sacrificial fire and was so
employed in the church down to the fifteenth century. Egyptians used
it largely under the XII Dynasty, piercing it along its axis after
rubbing off the pyramid points of the crystal, sometimes leaving the
natural six sides, or else grinding it into a complete cylinder. From
this bead came the artificial cylindrical glass beads made later by
the Egyptians.

Professor Ridgeley believes that the primary use of all these objects
was because of their supposed magic powers. He holds the same view in
regard to cylinders and rings, considering that the use of these as
signets only became habitual at a later time, and he finds a proof
of this theory in the fact that unengraved Babylonian cylinders and
Mycenean gems have been discovered. This is, of course, perfectly true,
but does not in the least prove that such ornaments may not have been
originally worn simply for purposes of adornment; unquestionably, the
custom of engraving them so as to render them signets must have arisen
at a much later date.

Flacourt stated that the natives of Madagascar used crystals to
aid them in divining. These stones, which were said to have fallen
from heaven, were attached to the corners of the boards whereon the
sorcerers produced their geomantic figures.[304] Here, however, the
crystals were not directly used, but were only supposed to attract
influences propitious to the diviner’s efforts.

In the notes to the 1888 edition of the Chinese criminal code, some
curious details are given of a practice called Yuan-kuang-fuchou (the
magic of the round glittering). While this designation certainly seems
to indicate the use of a polished sphere of some description, the
details given refer to a different practice. We are told that when
anything was stolen appeal was sometimes made to a certain Sun-Yuan
Sheng, who would then hang up a piece of white paper and utter a spell,
while a boy gazed upon the paper until he saw the figure of the thief.
This magician was punished for carrying on an unlawful practice.[305]

The Mexicans made images of their god Tezcatlipoca of obsidian, and the
name of this divinity is interpreted as signifying “shining mirror.”
This is supposed to refer to, or to have been expressed by, the
brilliant effect of the polished surface of the obsidian. Mirrors
of this material are said to have been used for divination in ancient
Mexico and the neighboring countries.[306] One of these Mexican mirrors
seems to have been employed by Dr. Dee in his experiments in crystal
vision.

A remarkable series of tests in the art of scrying, given in the
presence of Lane, the great Arabic scholar, and translator of the
Arabian Nights, illustrates the fallibility of most of the evidence
adduced in such matters, for, at first, Lane was strongly impressed by
the exhibition. Although no crystal was used, the process of scrying
was precisely the same as in crystal-gazing,—that is to say, the
vision called for by the visitors was seen by the scryer on a polished
surface. The master of ceremonies was an Arab magician, though, of
course, he did not do the scrying himself, but employed a boy for this
purpose, for it is generally thought that half-grown boys or girls
are more receptive. Although Lane himself was perfectly familiar with
Arabic, an interpreter was always present in the interest of the other
Europeans who assisted at the experiments.

After invoking many mysterious geniuses and burning incense and scraps
of paper inscribed with magic formulas, the magician drew a magic
square on a large sheet of paper and dropped a quantity of ink in the
centre. On this the boy was directed to fix his gaze, and after he
had shown that he was thoroughly under the magician’s influence, by
describing the images suggested to him, the visitors were permitted
to ask him questions. The answers were successful in most cases; a
single instance will suffice. When the boy was asked to describe
Admiral Nelson, he replied: “I see a man clothed in a dark garb; there
is something strange about him, he has but one arm.” Then, quickly
correcting himself, he added: “No, I was mistaken, he has one of his
arms across his breast.” This correction impressed those present more
than the first statement, for it was well known that Nelson usually
had the empty sleeve of his coat pinned to his breast. It also seemed
as though there could be no collusion, for both the magician and the
boy were ignorant of everything English and evidently knew nothing of
Nelson. Unfortunately, however, for those who would fain believe that
there is something supernatural in scrying, it was later discovered
that the interpreter was a renegade Scotchman, masquerading as an Arab,
and there can be little doubt that he managed to suggest the boy’s
answer. The fact that no satisfactory results were obtained when this
interpreter was absent, makes this explanation almost certainly the
correct one.

The Armenians sometimes practised divination by watching the images
that appeared, or were supposed to appear, on the smooth surface of
the waters of a well, and the person who saw such images was called
_hornaiogh_, “he who looks into a well.” An Arab woman living in the
neighborhood of Constantinople enjoyed a great reputation for her power
in this respect, and was frequently consulted by Armenians and by other
dwellers in the Turkish capital. Whoever wished to question this woman
regarding the cause of an illness, the whereabouts of stolen objects,
etc., usually took along a child of the household, and the actual
scrying was generally performed by this child, who would describe or
identify the forms it saw on the water’s surface. If, however, for
one reason or another, no child was brought, the witch herself did
the scrying. In regard to illness, a distinction was made between
“natural” maladies and those directly caused by some spirit. Should the
spirit (_peri_) supposed to cause the dire malady known as _drsévé_, a
kind of consumption, be seen to glide over the surface of the water,
the sorceress would find it necessary to invoke the whole race of
_peris_ to come to the aid of the patient, who was expected to pay more
than the usual fee for this very special service.[307]

The _peris_ of Armenian legend were sometimes good and sometimes
evil spirits; in the former case these were supposed to perform the
functions of guardian angels, and every one was said to have a peri
especially delegated to watch over him. This found expression in the
fact that when one Armenian felt at first sight an instinctive sympathy
for another, he would say, “My peri loves you dearly (_peris chad
siretz kezi_).” In the contrary case, the feeling of antipathy was
also attributed to the attitude assumed by the guardian spirit toward
the new acquaintance.[308] These spirits were therefore supposed to
encourage or discourage greater intimacy with newcomers in accord with
the true interests of those over whom they watched.

The power to see images in a crystal does not appear to depend to any
great extent upon a morbid nervous condition of the seer, for many
of the most successful experimenters have been of good and even of
exceptionally vigorous physique. Indeed, illness seems to diminish or
destroy this power, at least in the case of those who are habitually
healthy.[309] This does not imply that some highly nervous and even
hysterical individuals have not been favored with “crystal visions.”
Very probably the rule here is the same as in ordinary hypnotism. Those
persons who have a strong will and sound nerves are able to hypnotize
themselves, while those whose nerves are disordered are subject to the
hypnotic influence of others.

A well-known lady in New York City, in conversation with the writer, a
few years ago, on the subject of crystal balls, was advised by him to
try a ball herself and see what results she obtained. At the end of two
years she found that by concentration she had been able to better her
understanding of herself; and this effect is not only obtainable now by
means of a crystal ball, but by fixing her gaze upon any bright object.
This visual fixation has centred her whole being in such a way that her
health has notably improved.

What are the laws that govern the production of these phenomena? That
the “visions” are real enough has been proven time and again, but it
seems almost certain that they do not offer anything but the ideas or
impressions existing in the minds or optic nerves of the gazers. One
of the most painstaking students of the subject, Miss Goodrich-Freer,
gives many instances in proof of this, which show how easy it would
be for a less critical observer to suppose that the crystal revealed
something unknown to the gazer. On one occasion this lady was at a loss
to remember the correct address of a friend whose letter, received a
few days before, she had torn up. She resorted to her crystal, and
after a few minutes saw in it, in gray letters on a white ground, the
address she had forgotten. She mailed her answer to this address, and
the reply came duly to hand, with the address stamped in gray upon
the white paper of the note, which was identical with that she had
first received.[310] The visual impression had been stirred up and
“externalized” itself when she gazed upon the crystal. We believe that
this explains the larger number of such visions, and that the rest are
only inexplicable because the scryer has forgotten the source of the
impression that is projected on the surface of the crystal.

It is true that both Miss Goodrich-Freer and many other crystal-gazers
note instances in which the vision appears to represent something
the scryer does not and cannot know. However, even in these cases,
when carefully examined, there is little difficulty in finding an
explanation. Coincidence accounts for much, and imagination for more,
since it is not the vision itself, but the memory of the vision, that
is later brought into comparison with actual facts. We all know how
exceedingly hard it is to repeat, after a short lapse of time, all the
circumstances and details of any occurrence. There is a natural growth
and modification of mental impressions, due to association of ideas,
and where there exists the least wish to make the prophecy accord with
the event, or the vision with the coincident happening, this growth and
modification will be in the direction of agreement. This takes place
quite unconsciously, and the informant will be fully persuaded that all
the circumstances are related exactly as they occurred.

The attempt to identify either persons or scenes observed by the scryer
with real persons and real scenes unknown to him, must always be open
to the objection that the one who makes the identification has no
photographic impression upon which to base his judgment, but merely the
words of the scryer. When we remember what mistakes have been made in
identifying individuals from photographs, we can easily appreciate the
great chances of error entailed by the use of a verbal description of
a visionary experience, even when the person giving the description is
both willing and able to make it as exact and adequate as possible.

A very impartial witness, Andrew Lang, states that, in the course of
a series of experiments he made in crystal-gazing, he saw nothing
himself, but found that a surprisingly large proportion of those who
tried were successful in seeing pictures of some sort on the polished
surface. Almost invariably, when the gazer fixed his eyes upon the
sphere, it appeared to grow milky-hued and then became black; upon this
dark background the pictures showed themselves. One of the scryers,
a lady, said that as a child she had seen pictures in ink that she
had spilled for the purpose.[311] This method has been much favored
by Orientals. While Lang does not quite venture to assert that all
the “visions” reported to him were genuine ones, he inclines to the
belief that this was the case with many of them. Experience has shown,
however, that not all of those who see pictures in, or on, a glass or
crystal sphere, can also see them in ink.[312] Nevertheless, in view
of the fact that the crystal sphere is said to appear black to the eye
before the pictures are seen, it would seem that some naturally black
surface would be particularly adapted for the purpose.

An interesting point regarding the phenomena of crystal-gazing is the
effect produced by magnification upon the images seen in, or on, the
crystal ball. As to this matter there is considerable difference of
opinion, for, while some experimenters assert that the interposition
of a magnifying-glass enlarges the image, others have not remarked
any difference in its size under these conditions. Indeed, one of the
most critical witnesses, Mrs. A. W. Verrall, declares that her vision
entirely disappeared when she held a magnifying-glass before her eyes.
On the other hand, we have the case of a subject who had been told,
while in the hypnotic state, that he would see a play-bill on the
crystal. When he was awakened and the crystal ball was placed before
him, he said that he could see only detached letters, but when he
looked through a magnifying-glass he saw all the letters distinctly and
read the name of the play, in perfect accord with the suggestion.[313]

This image may have been reflected from some part of the room where the
gazer had not noticed it, and may have been either before or behind
the operator. The magnifying-glass would naturally make the small,
condensed letters legible, as a play-bill would be many times larger
than a crystal ball, and its minute image naturally too small to read,
being reduced by the circular surface.

Usually, however, the image is not on the surface of the crystal, but
in the beholder’s eye; therefore when this image appears more clearly
under magnification, the result is due to the expectation of the
gazer based upon his experience of an invariable rule. This acts as
a stimulus upon the visual function, which must be in an exceedingly
sensitive state to produce visions at all. When, however, no result
or a negative result follows the use of the glass, then we can safely
assume that the gazer was naturally of a critical turn of mind, and
was disposed to distrust sensual impressions; hence the glass became a
disturbing influence, interfering with or even completely obliterating
the eye-picture.

Many attempts have been made to establish distinctions between the
different materials used for crystals, proceeding on the theory that
subtle emanations from them affected the gazer and played an important
part in producing the desired vision. That the beryl produced a greater
number of these visions than any other mineral was the old belief which
is still upheld in some quarters to-day; one scryer, indeed, asserts
that his clearest and most satisfactory visions were seen in a cube
of blue beryl, the beautiful color appearing to dispose the soul to a
harmonious unfolding of its latent aptitudes.[314]

Among the instructions given to a would-be crystal gazer, the question
of a proper and wholesome diet is not overlooked, as anything which
tends to disturb the serenity of the organism will also interfere with
the due exercise of the special clairvoyant faculty that expresses
itself in crystal visions. A curious special recommendation made
by one of the exponents of the art is that good results can be had
by drinking an infusion of mugwort (_Artemisia vulgaris_), or of
chicory (_Cichorium intybus_), because of their tonic and antibilious
qualities. Moreover, we are told that these herbs are under the
influence of the zodiacal sign Libra, the sign controlling the virtues
of the beryl.[315] Above all the portion of the lunar month when the
moon is on the increase is said to be far the best season for scrying,
as the old astrologers recognized an affinity between the moon and
rock-crystal.

The claim is made that the adept at crystal-gazing can determine by the
apparent difference in proximity of the visions whether they refer to
the present or to a more or less remote past or future, that is to say,
are nearer or farther removed in time from the period when the vision
appears. The distinction between past and future is admitted to offer
greater difficulty and a decision as to this point must depend upon a
kind of intuitive and undefined impression on the part of the scryer.

Those who have made a sympathetic study of crystal-gazing recognize
that the “visions” seen in or on the crystal differ according to the
mental and psychic temperament of the scryer. Two broad distinctions
are sometimes established, the one class comprising those whose mental
attitude is a “positive” one while the second class includes the
“passive” subjects. In the former case the crystal visions are more apt
to be symbols denoting some past or future event than a clear picture
of the event itself, the mentality of the “positive” subject being,
perhaps, too strong merely to mirror the image cast upon it. Instead
of so doing it transforms the impression received from this image into
some symbolic form. This process is not, however, consciously done, but
the scryer of this type is supposed nevertheless to have an instinctive
appreciation of the fact that what he sees is purely and simply a
symbol, and he proceeds to interpret this in accord with certain
generally received rules, or in accord with his own personal experience.

The passive subject on the other hand is more apt to see a clear and
definite picture of the persons or events revealed to him. Sometimes
that picture is distinctly perceptible on or about the surface of the
crystal, while at other times the visual perception will be rather
indefinite and clouded, although accompanied by a strong mental
impression in itself equivalent to that which would have been induced
by an actual and objective vision.[316]

The proper use of the crystal is the prime factor in the art of
scrying and great attention is paid to this point by all those who
treat seriously of the subject. Among other things they recognize
that freedom from pain, or even from a sense of physical discomfort,
is quite essential, for the mind must assume a purely passive and
receptive attitude, and not be forced to take cognizance of bodily
discomfort. Moreover the nervous system must be in repose, for which
reason a reasonable time should be allowed to lapse after taking a
meal, before trying for crystal visions.[317]

An author on “psychomancy” affirms that fixing the gaze upon a crystal
ball is one of the very best means of bringing out the latent faculty
of astral vision, and he finds a reason for this in the atomic
structure, the molecular arrangement of the material. He does not,
however, impart any definite information as to what special structural
characteristics render glass or rock-crystal particularly efficient in
this direction.[318] The help that may be derived from crystal-gazing
by those who are striving to pierce the veil that separates the “real
life” about us from that spiritual life which is so much more real for
those who believe in it, is also admitted by many.[319]

We cannot refrain from citing here the words spoken by Sir Oliver
Lodge at Birmingham, Sept. 10, 1913, before the British Association
for the Advancement of Science, affirming his conviction, as a result
of scientific investigation of occult phenomena, “that memory and
affection are not limited to that association with matter by which
alone they can manifest themselves here and now, and that personality
persists beyond bodily death.”

One of the latest types of glass balls for crystal-gazing has a small,
circular, flat surface on the sphere. This may possibly be of service
in furnishing a better field for the expected vision, and may also
lessen the troublesome and baffling reflections which interfere so
seriously with the projection of the mental picture.

A method that has been recommended to crystal-gazers is to place the
crystal on a table, protect it from the reflections of surrounding
objects by means of a velvet screen, and set seven candlesticks with
wax tapers in front of the screen. The tapers are then to be lighted,
the room being otherwise in perfect darkness, and the would-be scryer
is to seat himself comfortably before the table, laying his hands flat
upon it, and to gaze fixedly upon the crystal for half an hour or
longer. The light from the tapers will certainly ensure a multitude
of light points in the crystal. That the molecules forming the sphere
may always remain _en rapport_ with the gazer, he is advised to put it
beneath his pillow when retiring to rest.[320]

The crystal gazer is strongly advised by some to limit the duration
of his experiment at first to five minutes, during which he is to
avoid thinking of anything in particular while keeping his eyes fixed
intently upon the ball, but without any undue straining of attention.
Should the eyes “water” after the test is concluded, this is to be
regarded as an indication that the gazer has persisted too long;
for brain-fag is to be strictly avoided, as such a state depresses
instead of arousing the hidden and higher psychic faculties. Even
after considerable practice, the scrying should not be carried on for
more than a few minutes at a time. The faculty of visualization plays
a most important part in crystal-gazing. The image thought to be seen
on, before, or behind the surface of the crystal, is in its essence a
fancied projection of a purely mental image conceived in the brain;
such an image as is present to the consciousness of many when they call
to mind a scene of some vivid past experience, or the face of someone
they have known, and see it as an element of consciousness. When it is
possible to externalize this interior vision, then we have at least a
beginning of successful scrying. That it may go far beyond this, that
it may reveal to the gazer events happening in some distant place, or
even events yet to transpire in the dim future, is often claimed. An
acceptance of this claim must depend largely upon our attitude toward
premonitions and prophecies in general. Here, as in the simple picture
evolved by an image of the past, the crystal is merely the background
upon which are cast the mind-pictures or soul-pictures arising within
our being.[321]

A use of crystal gazing to aid literary composition has been reported
in the case of an English authoress of note, who, if she lost the
thread of the story she was writing, would resort to her crystal, and
would see mirrored therein the scenes and personages of her tale,
the latter carrying on the plot in dramatic action. Aided by this
suggestion she was able to resume her composition and successfully
terminate her story.

In Japan the smaller rock-crystals were believed to be the congealed
breath of the White Dragon, while the larger and more brilliant ones
were said to be the saliva of the Violet Dragon. As the dragon was
emblematic of the highest powers of creation, this indicates the esteem
in which the substance was held by the Japanese, who probably derived
their appreciation of it from the Chinese. The name _suisho_, used both
in China and Japan to designate rock-crystal, reflects the idea current
in ancient times, and repeated even by seventeenth century writers,
that rock-crystal was ice which had been so long congealed that it
could not be liquefied.

For the Japanese, rock-crystal is the “perfect jewel,” _tama_; it is
at once a symbol of purity and of the infinity of space, and also
of patience and perseverance. This latter significance probably
originating from an observation of the patience and skill shown by the
accurate and painstaking Japanese cutters and polishers of rock-crystal.

A crystal ball, one of the largest perfect spheres ever produced, has
been made from rock-crystal of Madagascar. It is a very perfect sphere
and of faultless material. The diameter is 6⅛ inches and the ball
was held at about $20,000.

Many fine crystal balls are made in Japan, the materials being found
in large, clear masses in the mountains on the islands of Nippon and
Fusiyama and also in the granitic rocks of Central Japan. It is stated,
however, that much of the Japanese material really comes from China.
The Japanese methods of working rock-crystals are extremely simple and
depend more upon the skill and patience of the workers than upon the
tools at their command. Our illustration, taken from a sketch made by
an Oriental traveller, shows the process of manufacturing crystal
balls. The rough mass of crystal is gradually rounded by careful
chipping with a small steel hammer. With the aid of this tool alone a
perfect sphere is formed. The Japanese workmen thoroughly understand
the fracture of the mineral, and know just when to apply chipping and
when hammering. The crystal, having been reduced to a spherical form,
is handed to a grinder, whose tools consist of cylindrical pieces of
cast iron, about a foot in length, and full of perforations. These
cylinders are of different curvatures, according to the size of the
crystal to be ground. Powdered emery and garnet are used for the first
polishing. Plenty of water is supplied during the process, and the
balls are kept constantly turning, in order to secure a true spherical
surface. Sometimes they are fixed on the end of a hollow tube and kept
dexterously turning in the hand until smooth. The final polishing
is effected with crocus or rouge (finely divided hematite), giving
a splendid lustrous surface. As hand labor is exclusively used, the
manufacture of crystal objects according to the Japanese methods is
extremely laborious and slow.[322]

In Germany and France and in the United States, the fabrication of
rock-crystal is accomplished almost entirely by machinery. The crystal
to be shaped into a ball is placed against a semicircular groove worn
in huge grindstones. This is illustrated in the case of the method
practised in Oberstein, Germany. The workman has his feet firmly braced
against a support, and, resting upon his chest, presses the crystal
against the revolving grindstone. It is unnecessary to add that the
practice is extremely unwholesome and develops early consumption
among the workers. A constant stream of water is kept flowing over the
stone so that the crystal shall always be moist, as the friction would
otherwise hurt it, and the subsequent addition of water would be liable
to cause a fracture. The final polishing is done on a wooden wheel with
tripoli, or by means of a leather buffer with tripoli or rouge.[323]

There are three fine crystal balls in the collection of the American
Museum of Natural History. One, apparently perfect, measures 5½
inches in diameter and was cut from a crystal found in Mokolumne,
Calaveras Co., California; the second is 6½ inches in diameter and
is from the same locality, but not entirely perfect. These were shown
in the department of the Tiffany Collection prepared by the author,
and were exhibited at the Paris Exposition of 1900 as part of the J.
Pierpont Morgan gift to the American Museum of Natural History. Another
fine crystal ball is now to be seen in the American Museum of Natural
History, New York; this was donated to the institution. It measures
4-11/16 inches in diameter, is of wonderful purity, and the cutting
has been executed with such a high degree of precision that an ideally
perfect sphere has been produced.[324]

Crystal balls have been found occasionally in tombs or in funerary
urns, and their presence in sepulchres may perhaps be considered to
have been due to a belief that they possessed certain magic properties.
In the tomb of Childeric (ca. 436-481 A.D.), the father of Clovis,
a rock-crystal sphere was found which was for a time preserved in
the Bibliothèque Royale, Paris, and later in the Louvre Museum; it
measures 1½ inches in diameter.[325] The chance discovery of a
number of crystal balls is related by Montfaucon. Towards the end of
the sixteenth century, the canons of San Giovanni in Laterano, Rome,
wished to have some repairs made to a house they owned, just outside
of the city walls, and sent thither some workmen with the order to
break up or remove two large, superimposed stones, which were much in
the way. The workmen proceeded to break the upper stone, but were much
astonished to find embedded within it an alabaster funerary urn with
its cover. This had been hidden between the two stones, a space for its
reception having been hollowed out in the upper and lower stones, so
that it fitted within them. Opening the urn there were found inside,
mingled with the ashes, twenty crystal balls, a gold ring with a stone
setting, a needle, an ivory comb, and some bits of gold wire. The
presence of the needle was taken to indicate conclusively that the
ashes were those of a woman.[326]

The discovery of the tomb of Childeric was made, May 27, 1653, by a
deaf-mute mason, named Adrien Quinquin, while he was excavating for the
restoration of one of the dependencies of the church of Saint Brice de
Tournai. One of the most interesting objects found in the tomb was the
golden signet of Childeric bearing his head and the legend _Childerici
regis_. The earliest description is given in a work by Chiflet entitled
“Anastasis Childerici,” “Resurrection of Childeric,” published by
Plantin of Antwerp in 1655. The various ornaments were sent by the
Spanish Governor-General of the Netherlands to the Austrian treasury in
Vienna, and were not long afterward, in 1664, graciously donated by
Emperor Leopold I to King Louis XIV, at the instance of Johann Philip
of Schonborn, Archbishop of Mainz, who was under great obligation to
the French sovereign.

In Paris the various ornaments were preserved in the Bibliothèque
Royale until the night of November 5-6, 1831, when many of them, with
other valuables, were stolen by an ex-convict. Closely pursued by the
police, the thief threw his booty into the Seine; much of the plunder
was subsequently recovered, but the signet of Childeric was lost for
ever. The crystal ball had not seemed of sufficient value to tempt the
thief and was left undisturbed; it was later, in 1852, deposited in the
Louvre Museum.[327]

In a personal communication to Abbé Cochet made in 1858 by Mr. Thomas
Wright, the latter stated that he had seen at Downing in Flintshire
with Lord Fielding five crystal balls, bearing labels declaring that
they came from the sepulchres of the kings of France violated at the
time of the French Revolution. They had been purchased about 1810 at
the sale of the Duchess of Portland’s effects.[328]

Among the crystal balls found in French sepulchres may be noted one
discovered by Rigollot in 1853 at Arras, and preserved in the Museum
of that city; this still has the original gold mounting serving to
attach it to the necklace from which it had been worn suspended.
Another found at or near Levas was in the possession of M. Dancoise, a
notary of Hénin-Liétard, dept. Pas de Calais.[329] In the Bibliothèque
at Dieppe there is a crystal ball, 32 mm. in diameter, found at
Douvrend, dept. Seine-Inferieure, in 1838, in a Merovingian tomb; this
is pierced through.[330] The department of Moselle supplied three
discoveries of this kind, crystal balls having been found in a tomb at
St. Preux-la-Montagne, Sablon and Moineville near Briey, the latter
measuring 36 mm. in diameter.[331]

The Saxon tombs of England have also furnished a contingent of crystal
balls, for example at Chatham, at Chassel Down on the Isle of Wight,
where four were discovered, at Breach Down, Barham, near Canterbury, at
Fairford, Gloucestershire, and also in Kent.[332]

We should also note a crystal ball found in a funerary urn at Hinsbury
Hill, Northamptonshire;[333] this as well as the one found at Fairford
was facetted.[334] From St. Nicholas, Worcestershire, is reported a
crystal ball 1½ inches in diameter.[335]

In his “Hydrotaphia, or Urn Burial,” published in 1658, Sir Thomas
Browne (1605-1682), author of the “Religio Medici,” relates that there
was at that time in the possession of Cardinal Farnese, an urn in
which, besides a number of antique engraved gems, an ape of agate,
and an elephant of amber, there had been found a crystal ball and six
“nuts” of crystal.[336]

One of the largest and most perfect crystal balls is in the Dresden
“Grüne Gewölbe” (Green Vaults). This weighs 15 German pounds and
measures 6⅔ inches in diameter; it was undoubtedly used for purposes
of augury. Ten thousand dollars was the price paid for it in 1780.

A crystal ball known as the Currahmore Crystal, because it is kept
at the seat of that name belonging to the Marquis of Waterford, has
long enjoyed and still enjoys the repute of possessing magical powers.
It is of rock-crystal, and the legend runs that one of the Le Poers
brought it from the Holy Land, where it had been given him by the
great crusader Godefroy de Bouillon (1058-1100). The ball is a trifle
larger than an orange and a silver ring encircles it at the middle.
The chief and much-prized virtue of this crystal is its power to cure
cattle of any one of the many distempers to which they are subject. Its
application for this purpose is rather peculiar, for the cattle are not
touched with it, but driven up and down a stream in which it has been
laid. Not only in the immediate neighborhood of Currahmore is resort
had to this magic stone by the peasants, but requests for its loan are
often made from far distant parts of Ireland. The privilege is almost
always accorded and has never been abused, the crystal being in every
case conscientiously returned to its rightful owner.[337]

The names “ghost-crystals,” “phantom-crystals,” “spectre-crystals,”
“shadow-crystals,” etc., are applied to a form of quartz in which the
crystallization was interrupted from time to time, so that in the
transparent successive layers there is an occasional opaque layer,
often no thicker than the finest possible dusting of a whiter material.
Sometimes as many as fifteen or twenty of these successive growths are
observable, one over the other. When these crystals are in the natural
form, they show beautifully from the sides and ends. Sometimes such
crystals are found after they have been rolled in the beds of mountain
torrents until they have become entirely opaque, but when the surfaces
are polished, the “phantom,” “spectre,” or “ghost,” appears with
wonderful beauty. Occasionally the entire crystal has been worn down
to a small part of the original prism, in which case it is cut into a
ball. The ball may seem to be absolutely pure, but when held in certain
lights little tent-like markings can often be observed; sometimes only
one marking is visible, but there may be as many as twenty. These
are occasionally due to a layer of smoky material, and, though they
add a charm to the ball, they detract from its value. Nevertheless,
crystal-gazers may find an additional interest when the “ghostly” or
“spectral” interior exists in a crystal ball. This growth is similar
in kind to that seen at times in opaque quartz, forming what is known
as cap-quartz; here the crystallizations can frequently be broken
apart so that they fit one over the other in many successive layers.
Occasionally the regular crystalline development will be interrupted,
as it were, and in place of the original crystal continuing its growth
harmoniously, a larger crystal will form on a smaller one, forming a
sort of mushroom, or “cap,” or “stilt” quartz, as it is termed.


VII

Religious Uses of Precious Stones, Pagan, Hebrew, and Christian.


The use of stones for the decoration of images of the gods, and in
religious ceremonies, more especially in those connected with the
burial of the dead, can be traced back to a remote antiquity. Indeed,
we may regard this religious use of precious or peculiar stones as the
natural development of the original idea of their talismanic virtue.
If a certain supernatural essence manifested itself in the stone, what
more fit object could be imagined for the decoration of statues of the
gods, or to bear engraved texts from the sacred writings, and to be
placed with the bodies of the dead as “passports” to ensure the safe
entry of the souls of the departed into the better land?

While this employment of mineral substances for religious purposes
is practically universal, the earliest recorded instances come from
Egypt, and concern the Egyptian custom of engraving texts from a very
ancient ritual composition, called the Book of the Dead, upon certain
semi-precious stones which had been cut into various symbolical
forms. This “Book of the Dead,” composed of a number of distinct
chapters, each complete in itself, describes the passage of the soul
of the deceased through the realm of the dead (Amenti). Here the soul
addresses the gods and other beings who receive it, and the prayers
and invocations recited in the chapters are supposed to procure a safe
passage and protection from all evil influences or impediments.

One of the most usual of the engraved amulets is the buckle or tie
(thet). This was generally of red jasper, carnelian, or red porphyry,
or else of red glass or faience or of sycamore wood. The wood was
symbolical of the blood of Isis, and the amulets were sometimes
engraved with the 156th chapter of the Book of the Dead; they were
placed on the mummy’s neck. The formula engraved reads:

Chapter of the buckle of carnelian which is put on the neck of the
deceased.

The blood of Isis, the virtue of Isis; the magic power of Isis, the
magic power of the Eye are protecting this the Great one; they prevent
any wrong being done to him.

This chapter is said on a buckle of carnelian dipped into the juice of
ankhama, inlaid into the substance of the sycamore-wood and put on the
neck of the deceased.

Whoever has this chapter read to him, the virtue of Isis protects him;
Horus, the son of Isis, rejoices in seeing him, and no way is barred
to him, unfailingly.[338]

Another amulet is the _tet_. The hieroglyph represents a mason’s
table and the word signifies “firmness, stability, preservation.”
These figures, made of faience, gold, carnelian, lapis-lazuli, and
other materials, were placed on the neck of the mummy to afford
protection.[339]

The “papyrus scepter,” _uat_, is usually cut from matrix-emerald or
made of faience of similar hue. _Uat_ means “verdure, flourishing,
greenness”; placed on the neck of the mummy it was regarded as
emblematic of the eternal youth it was hoped the deceased would enjoy
in the realm of the dead. In the 159th chapter of the Book of the Dead,
we read of an _uat_ of matrix-emerald; it was believed to be the gift
of Thoth, serving to protect the limbs of the deceased.[340]

The amulet representing the pillow, _urs_, was generally made of
hematite. The 166th chapter of the Book of the Dead is sometimes
engraved thereon. Dr. Budge renders this as follows:

Rise up from non-existence, O prostrate one! They watch over thy
head at the exalted horizon. Thou overthrowest thine enemies; thou
triumphest over what they do against thee, as Horus, the avenger of
his father, this Osiris[341] has commanded to be done for thee. Thou
cuttest off the heads of thine enemies; never shall they carry off
from thee thy head (?). Verily Osiris maketh slaughter at the coming
forth of the heads of his enemies; may they never remove his head from
him.

Of all these amulets, the type most frequently encountered has the
shape of a heart, _ab_. These are found of carnelian, green jasper,
basalt, lapis-lazuli, and other hard materials. The heart, regarded
in ancient Egypt as the seat of life, was the object of especial care
after death. Enclosed in a special receptacle it was buried with the
mummy, and the belief was that only after it had been weighed in the
balance of the underworld, against the symbol of law, could it regain
its place in the body of the deceased. The heart was symbolically
represented by the scarab.[342]

A fine example of a heart amulet shows on one side the figure of
the goddess Neith with the pennu bird or phœnix, an emblem of the
resurrection, and bears inscribed the chapter of the heart.[343]

The following extract from the Book of the Dead treats of the formula
to be recited over a funeral scarab cut from a hard stone, perhaps the
lapis-lazuli. Egyptian tradition assigned this chapter to the reign of
Semti, the fifth king of the 1st Dynasty, about 4400 B.C.[344]

Chapter of not allowing a man’s heart to oppose him in the divine
regions of the nether world.

My heart which came from my mother, my heart necessary for my
existence on earth, do not rise up against me, do not testify as an
adversary against me among the divine chiefs in regard to what I have
done before the gods; do not separate from me before the great lord of
Amenti. Hail to thee, O heart of Osiris, dwelling in the West! Hail
to you, gods of the braided beard, august by your sceptre! Speak well
of the Osiris N; make him prosper by Nehbka. I am reunited with the
earth, I am not dead in Amenti. There I am a pure spirit for eternity.

To be said over a scarabæus fashioned from a hard stone, coated with
gold, and placed on the heart of the man after he has been anointed
with oil. The following words should be said over him as a magic
charm: “My heart which came from my mother, my heart is necessary for
me in my transformations.”

Take your aliments, pass around the turquoise basin, and go to him who
is in his temple and from whom the gods proceed.

The most ancient inscription of this especially favorite text is on
the plinth of a scarab in the British Museum bearing the cartouche of
Sebak-em-saf, a king of the XIV Dynasty, 2300 B.C. It is made from an
exceptionally fine piece of green jasper, the body and head of the
beetle being carefully carved out of the stone, while the legs are of
gold, carved in relief. The scarab is inserted into a gold base of
tabloid form, and was found at Kurna (Thebes) by Mr. Salt. As green
jasper was believed to possess altogether exceptional virtues as an
amulet, this particular scarab was probably regarded as especially
sacred.

It appears to have been the rule to engrave certain special chapters
of the Book of the Dead, among those referring to the heart, upon
particular stones. Thus, for instance, the 26th chapter was engraved on
lapis-lazuli, the 27th upon feldspar, the 30th upon serpentine, and the
29th upon carnelian.[345] This may perhaps have been originally due to
some association of the god principally invoked in the text with the
precious substance upon which the text was engraved.

The form of an eye, fashioned out of lapis-lazuli and ornamented with
gold, constituted an amulet of great power; it was inscribed with the
140th chapter of the Book of the Dead. On the last day of the month
Mechir, an offering “of all things good and holy” was to be made before
this symbolic eye, for on that day the supreme god Ra was believed to
place such an image upon his head. Sometimes these eyes were made of
jasper, and could then be laid upon any of the limbs of a mummy.[346]

Of the image of Truth, made from a lapis-lazuli and worn by the
Egyptian high-priest, Ælian aptly says that he would prefer the judge
should not bear Truth about with him, fashioned and expressed in an
image, but rather in his very soul.[347]

Among the Assyrian texts giving the formulæ for incantations and
various magical operations, there is one which treats of an ornament
composed of seven brilliant stones, to be worn on the breast of the
king as an amulet; indeed, so great was the virtue of these stones that
they were supposed to constitute an ornament for the gods also. The
text, as rendered by Fossey, is as follows:[348]

Incantation. The splendid stones! The splendid stones! The stones of
abundance and of joy.

Made resplendent for the flesh of the gods.

The _ḥulalini_ stone, the _sirgarru_ stone, the _ḥulalu_ stone, the
_sându_ stone, the _uknû_ stone.

The _dushu_ stone, the precious stone _elmêshu_, perfect in celestial
beauty.

The stone of which the _pingu_ is set in gold.

Placed upon the shining breast of the king as an ornament.

Azagsud, high-priest of Bêl, make them shine, make them sparkle!

Let the evil one keep aloof from the dwelling!

The names of two of these gems, the _ḥulalu_ and the _ḥulalini_,
suggest that they were of similar class. As the fundamental meaning of
the root whence the names are formed is “to perforate,” it is barely
possible that we have here the long-sought Assyrian designation for
the pearl, which was commonly regarded in ancient times as a stone.
In Arabic the perforated pearl has a special name to distinguish it
from the unperforated, or “virgin pearl.” All we know of the _sându_
is that it must have been a dark-colored stone. The _uknû_, however,
is almost certainly the lapis-lazuli. It is often mentioned in the Tel
el Amarna tablets as having been among the gifts sent by the kings
of Babylonia and Assyria to the Pharaohs of Egypt, and also by the
latter to friendly Asiatic monarchs. Of the _sirgarru_ and _dushu_
stones nothing is known, but the _elmêshu_, the seventh in the list,
was evidently regarded as the most brilliant and splendid of all;
indeed, Prof. Friedrich Delitzsch hazards the conjecture that it is
the diamond. In any case this stone must have been set in rings and
considered very valuable, for in an Assyrian text occurs the following
passage: “Like an _elmêshu_ ring may I be precious in thine eyes.”[349]
The fact that this stone is described as having “a celestial beauty”
might incline us to believe that it was a sapphire.

The idea of this mystic ornament, composed of seven gems, probably
originated in Babylonia, where the number seven was looked upon as
especially sacred. As we shall see, there is some reason to attribute
a Hindu origin to the nine gems, “the covering” of the King of Tyre,
enumerated by Ezekiel, while the breastplate on the ephod of the Hebrew
high-priest, with its twelve stones, symbolizing the twelve months
of the year, appears to be of later date, and seems to belong to the
time of the return from the Babylonian Captivity and the building of
the second temple. Certainly, the historic and prophetic books of the
Old Testament know nothing of it, although the Urim and Thummim are
mentioned and the elaborate description given in Exodus is generally
regarded by Biblical scholars as belonging to the so-called “Priestly
Codex,” the latest part of the Pentateuch, gradually evolved during the
Exile and given its final form in the fifth century B.C.

In the very ancient Assyrio-Babylonian epic narrative of the descent
of the goddess Ishtar to Hades, the guardian of the infernal regions
obliges the goddess to lay aside some part of her clothing and
ornaments at each of the seven gates through which she passes. At the
fifth, we are told that she stripped off her girdle of _aban alâdi_, or
stones which aided parturition.[350] It has been asserted, and perhaps
with some reason, that of the many mineral substances supposed to
possess this virtue, jade (nephrite) or jadeite was the earliest known.

The Babylonian legends also tell of trees on which grow precious
stones. In the Gilgamesh epic a mystic cedar tree is described. This
grew in the Elamite sanctuary of Irnina and was under the guardianship
of the Elamite king Humbaba. Of this tree an inscription relates:

It produces _samtu_-stones as fruit;
Its boughs hang with them, glorious to behold;
The crown of it produces lapis-lazuli;
Its fruit is costly to gaze upon.

Another tree bearing precious stones was seen by the hero Gilgamesh,
after he had passed through darkness for the space of twelve hours.
This must have been a most resplendent object, to judge from the
following description on a cuneiform tablet:[351]

It bore precious stones for fruits;
Its branches were glorious to the sight;
The twigs were crystals;
It bore fruit costly to the sight.

One of the rarest and most significant specimens illustrating the use
of valuable stones for religious ceremonial purposes in the pagan
world is in the Morgan-Tiffany collection. It is an ancient Babylonian
axe-head made of banded agate. So regular, indeed, is the disposition
of the layers in this agate that one might be justified in denominating
it an onyx. Its prevailing hue is what may be called a “deer-brown”;
some white splotches now apparent are evidently due to the action of
fire or that of some alkali. This axe-head bears an inscription in
archaic cuneiform characters, and presumably in the so-called Sumerian
tongue, that believed to have been spoken by the founders of the
Babylonian civilization. The form of the inscription indicates that the
object dates from an earlier period than 2000 B.C.

While the characters are clearly cut and can be easily deciphered,
the inscription is nevertheless exceedingly difficult to translate.
It is evident that the axe-head was a votive offering to a divinity,
probably on the part of a certain governor named Adduggish; but whether
the divinity in question was Shamash (the sun-god), or the god Adad,
or some other member of the Babylonian pantheon, cannot be determined
with any finality. The French assyriologist, François Lenormant, who
first described this axe-head in 1879, and Prof. Ira Maurice Price, of
the Semitic Department of Chicago University, both admit that it may
have been consecrated to Adad. As the weather-god, the thunderer, the
axe-symbol would have been more especially appropriate to him in view
of the usage, almost universal among primitive peoples, of associating
stone axe-heads or axe-shaped stones with the thunderbolt, and hence
with the divinity who was believed to have launched it toward the earth.

This Sumerian axe-head measures 134.5 mm. in length (5.3 inches), 35.5
mm. in width (1.4 inches), and 31 mm. in thickness (1.22 inches).
It was originally secured by Cardinal Stefano Borgia (1731-1804),
for some time secretary of the College of the Propaganda in Rome,
who probably acquired it from some missionary to the East. From the
cardinal’s family it passed for 15,000 lire ($3000) to the Tyszkiewicz
Collection, and when the objects therein comprised were disposed of at
public sale, the writer purchased it for the American Museum of Natural
History in New York, April 16, 1902.[352]

At Alicante, in Spain, cut upon the pedestal of an ancient statue,
supposed to have been that of Isis, was found an inscription giving a
list of the offerings dedicated by divine command, by a certain Fabia
Fabiana in honor of her granddaughter. Evidently the fond grandmother
had given of her best and choicest jewels which were used to adorn the
statue. They consisted of a diadem set with a “unio” (a large round
pearl) and six smaller pearls, two emeralds, seven beryls, two rubies,
and a hyacinth. In each ear of the statue was inserted an ear-ring
bearing a pearl and an emerald; about the neck was hung a necklace
consisting of four rows of emeralds and pearls, eighteen of the former
and thirty-six of the latter. Two circlets bound around the ankles
contained eleven beryls and two emeralds, while two bracelets were
set with eight emeralds and eight pearls. The adornment was completed
by four rings, two bearing emeralds, while two, placed on the little
finger, were set with diamonds. On the sandals were eight beryls.[353]

A notable instance of an antique votive offering is the necklace
of valuable precious stones dedicated to the statue of Vesta. The
Byzantine historian Zosimus attributes the tragic end of Stilicho’s
widow, Serena, to her having despoiled the image of Vesta of this
costly ornament, and finds a sort of poetic justice in the manner of
her death, since she was strangled by a cord which encircled her neck.

It is not only in the works of the Fathers of the Christian Church
that we find precious stones used as similes of religious virtue, in
Buddhist writings also we have examples of this. In the “Questions of
King Milinda,” composed perhaps as early as the third century of our
era, occur the following passages:[354]

Just, O King, as the diamond is pure throughout; just so, O King,
should the strenuous Bhikshu, earnest in effort, be perfectly pure in
his means of livelihood. This, O King, is the first quality of the
diamond he ought to have.

And again, O King, as the diamond cannot be alloyed with other
substance; just so, O King, should the strenuous Bhikshu, earnest in
effort, never mix with wicked men as friends. This, O King, is the
second quality of the diamond he ought to have.

And again, O King, just as the diamond is set together with the most
costly gems; just so, O King, should the strenuous Bhikshu, earnest
in effort, associate with those of the highest excellence, with men
who have entered the first or second or third stage of the Noble
Path, with the jewel treasures of the Arahats, of the recluses of
the threefold wisdom, or of the sixfold insight. This, O King, is
the third quality of the diamond he ought to have. For it was said,
O King, by the Blessed one,[355] the god over all gods, in the Sutta
Nipâta:

Let the pure associate with the pure,
Ever in recollection firm;
Dwelling harmoniously wise,
Thus shall ye put an end to griefs.

The description of the New Jerusalem in the book of Revelations finds a
curious parallel in the Hindu Puranas. Here we are told that the divine
Krishna, the eighth incarnation of Vishnu, took up his abode in the
wonderful city Devârakâ, and was visited there by the various orders of
gods and geniuses.[356]

Gods, Asuras, Gandharas, Kinnaras began to pour into Dwáraká, to see
Krishna and Valaráma.

Some descended from the sky, some from their cars—and alighting
underneath the banyan tree, looked on Dwáraká, the matchless.

The city was square,—it measured a hundred _yojonas_, and over all,
was decked in pearls, rubies, diamonds, and other gems.

The city was high,—it was ornamented with gems; and it was furnished
with cupolas of rubies and diamonds,—with emerald pillars, and
with court-yards of rubies. It contained endless temples. It had
cross-roads decked with sapphires, and highways blazing with gems. It
blazed like the meridian sun in summer.

As compared with the description in Revelations we cannot fail to note
the lack of definiteness. Instead of the well-ordered scheme of color
as represented by the twelve precious stones dedicated to the twelve
tribes of Israel, the mystic Hindu city is simply a gorgeous mass of
the most brilliant gems known in India.

The poetic description of the royal city Kusavati, given in the Maha
Sudassana Suttanta, may perhaps have originated in some tradition
regarding Ecbatana or Babylon. Seven ramparts surrounded Kusavati,
the materials being respectively gold, silver, beryl, crystal, agate,
coral and (for the last) “all kinds of gems.” In these ramparts
were four gates—one of gold, one of silver, one of crystal and one
of jade—and at each gate seven pillars were fixed, each three or
four times the height of a man and composed of the seven precious
substances that constituted the ramparts. Beyond the ramparts were
seven rows of palm trees, the fourth row having trunks of silver and
leaves and fruit of gold; then followed palms of beryl, with leaves
and fruit of beryl; agate palms, whose fruit and leaves were of coral,
and coral palms, with leaves and fruit of agate; lastly, the palms
whose trunks were composed of “all kinds of gems,” had leaves and
fruits of the same description, “and when these rows of palm trees were
shaken by the wind, arose a sound sweet and pleasant, and charming and
intoxicating.”[357]

In Greek literature also there is a “gem-city,”—namely, the city
of the Islands of the Blessed, described by Lucian in his Vera
Historia.[358] The walls of this city were of emerald, the temples
of the gods were formed of beryl, and the altars therein of single
amethysts of enormous size. The city itself was all of gold as a fit
setting for these marvellous gems.

Hindu mythology tells of a wonderful tank formed of crystal, the
work of the god Maya. Its bottom and sides were encrusted with
beautiful pearls and in the centre was a raised platform blazing with
the most gorgeous precious stones. Although it contained no water,
the transparent crystal produced the illusion of water, and those
who approached the tank were tempted to plunge into it and take a
refreshing bath in what appeared to be clear, fresh water.[359]

The Kalpa Tree of Hindu religion, a symbolical offering to the gods, is
described by Hindu poets as a glowing mass of precious stones. Pearls
hung from its boughs and beautiful emeralds from its shoots; the tender
young leaves were corals, and the ripe fruit consisted of rubies. The
roots were of sapphire; the base of the trunk of diamond, the uppermost
part of cat’s-eye, while the section between was of topaz. The foliage
(except the young leaves) was entirely formed of zircons.[360]

The Chinese Buddhist pilgrim Heuen Tsang, who visited India between 629
and 645 A.D., tells of the wonderful “Diamond Throne” which, according
to the legend, had once stood near the Tree of Knowledge, beneath whose
spreading branches Gautama Buddha is said to have received his supreme
revelation of truth. This throne had been constructed in the age called
the “Kalpa of the Sages”; its origin was contemporaneous with that of
the earth, and its foundations were at the centre of all things; it
measured one hundred feet in circumference, and was made of a single
diamond. When the whole earth was convulsed by storm or earthquake this
resplendent throne remained immovable. Upon it the thousand Buddhas of
the Kalpa had reposed and had fallen into the “ecstasy of the diamond.”
However, since the world has passed into the present and last age, sand
and earth have completely covered the “Diamond Throne,” so that it can
no longer be seen by human eye.[361]

In the Kalpa Sutra, written in Prakrit, one of the sacred books of the
Jains, the rivals of the Buddhists, it is said that Harinegamesi, the
divine commander of the foot troops, seized fourteen precious stones,
the chief of which was _vajra_, the diamond, and rejecting their
grosser particles, retained only the finer essence to aid him in his
transformations. In the same sutra the following glowing description is
given of the adornment of the surpassingly beautiful goddess Sri:[362]

On all parts of her body shone ornaments and trinkets, composed
of many jewels and precious stones, yellow and red gold. The pure
cup-like pair of her breasts sparkled, encircled by a garland of
Kunda flowers in which glittered a string of pearls. She wore
strings of pearls made by clever and diligent artists, strung with
wonderful strings, a necklace of jewels with a string of Dinaras, and
a trembling pair of ear-rings, touching her shoulders, diffused a
brilliancy; but the united beauties and charms of these ornaments were
only subservient to the loveliness of her face.

As engraved decoration of a fine Chinese vase of white jade with
delicate crown markings, appear eight storks, each of which bears
in its beak an attribute of one of the Eight Taoist Immortals. Thus
we have the double gourd as attribute of the most powerful of these
demi-gods known as “Li with the Iron Crutch,” whose aid is sought by
magicians and astrologers; the magic sword, with which Lu T’ung-pin
vanquished the spirits of evil that roamed through the Chinese Empire
in the form of terrible dragons; the basket of flowers, attribute of
Lan Ts’ai-ho, the patron of gardeners and florists; the royal fan used
by Han Chung-li, of the Chow Dynasty (1122-220 B.C.), to call again to
life the spirits of the departed; the lotus flower, emblematic of the
virgin Ho Hsien-Ku, venerated somewhat as a patron saint by Chinese
housewives, and who acquired the gift of immortal life by the help of
a powder of pulverized jade and mother-of-pearl; the bamboo tubes and
rods with which the mighty necromancer Chang Kuo, patron of artists,
evoked the souls of the dead; the flute of the musicians’ patron,
Han Hsiang-tzu, who owed his immortality to his craft in stealthily
entering the Taoist paradise and securing a peach from the sacred
tree of life; and, lastly, the castanets of Tsao Kuo-chin, especially
revered by Chinese actors.

The prevailing belief in India, that treasures offered to the images
or shrines of the gods will bring good fortune to the generous donor,
finds expression in many ancient and modern Hindu writings. In the Rig
Veda it is said that “by giving gold the giver receives a life of light
and glory.” In the Samaveda Upanishad we read: “Givers are high in
Heaven. Those who give horses live conjointly with the sun; givers of
gold enjoy eternal life; givers of clothes live in the moon.” Another
text (Hâiti Smriti) reads:[363]

Coral in worship will subdue all the three worlds. He who worships
Krishna with rubies will be reborn as a powerful emperor; if with a
small ruby, he will be born a king. Offering emeralds will produce
Gyana or Knowledge of the Soul and of the Eternal. If he worships with
a diamond, even the impossible, or Nirvâna, that is Eternal Life in
the highest Heaven, will be secured. If with a flower of gold a man
worships for a month, he will get as much wealth as Kuvera, the Lord
of Rubies, and will hereafter attain to Nirvâna and to Muskwa, or
Salvation.

At Multan, one of the most ancient cities of India, situated in the
Punjab, 164 miles southwest of Lahore, there was in the Hindu temple
an idol having for eyes two great pearls. The eyes of the rude image
of Jagganath at Puri, in Bengal (Orissa), are said to have at one
time been formed of precious stones, as were also those of the idols
of Vishnu at Chandernagore and in the great seven-walled temple at
Srirangam, whence appears to have come the Orloff diamond.

In ceremonial worship the Hindus recognize sixteen offerings, the ninth
consisting of gems and jewelry, and a divine assurance of adequate
return to the giver appears in the Bhagavat Purana, where Krishna
says, “Whatever is best and most valued in this world and that which
is most dear to you should be offered to me, and it will be received
back in immense and endless quantity.” On certain appointed days the
holy images are decorated with the choicest garments and the richest
jewelry in the temple treasury; this is especially the case on the
day celebrated as the birthday of the respective divinity. However,
the gifts are believed to retain their sacred character as dedicated
objects only for a comparatively brief period, varying from a month or
more for garments and vestments, to ten or twelve years for jewels,
such as the naoratna or the panchratna, the prized and revered jewels,
composed respectively of nine and five gems. The panchratna usually
consists of gold, diamond, sapphire, ruby, and pearl. After the gifts
have ceased to be worthy of use in the temples, they may be disposed
of to defray the expenses of the foundation, including the cost of
supporting the numerous priests and attendants. As the objects still
retain their sacred associations, they are eagerly bought by pious
Hindus, who undoubtedly regard them as valuable talismans. Thus they
not only serve to bring blessings upon the donors, but also constitute
one of the chief sources of income for the temples.[364]

One of the oldest and perhaps the most interesting talismanic jewel
is that known as the naoratna or nararatna, the “nine-gem” jewel. It
is mentioned in the old Hindu ratnaçastras, or treatises on gems,
for example, in the Nararatnaparîkshâ, where it is described as
follows:[365]

Manner of composing the setting of a ring:

In the centre The Sun The Ruby
To the East Venus The Diamond
To the Southeast The Moon The Pearl
To the South Mars The Coral
To the Southwest Râhu The Jacinth
To the West Saturn The Sapphire
To the Northeast Jupiter The Topaz
To the North The descending node The Cat’s-eye
To the Northwest Mercury The Emerald
Such is the planetary setting.

From this description we learn that the jewel was designed to combine
all the powerful astrological influences. The gems chosen to correspond
with the various heavenly bodies, and with the aspects known as the
ascending and descending nodes, differ in some cases from those
selected in the West. For instance, the emerald is here assigned to
Mercury, whereas in Western tradition this stone was usually the
representative of Venus, although it is sometimes associated with
Mercury also.[366] On the other hand, the diamond is dedicated to
Venus, instead of to the Sun as in the Western world.

In the naoratna the five gems known to the Hindus as the mahâratnâni,
or “great gems,”—the diamond, pearl, ruby, sapphire, and
emerald,—were, as we see, associated with the Sun and Moon, Venus,
Mercury, and Saturn, while the four lesser gems (uparatnâni)—namely,
the jacinth, topaz, cat’s-eye, and coral—represent Mars, Jupiter,
Râhu, and the descending node. The two last named are very important
factors in astrological calculations and are often called the Dragon’s
Head and the Dragon’s Tail. These designations signify the ascending
and descending nodes, indicating the passage of the ecliptic by the
Moon in her ascent above and descent below this arbitrary plane.

In three somewhat obscure passages of the Rig Veda there are references
to the seven ratnas. Whether these were gems cannot be determined,
since the primary meaning of the word ratna is “a precious object,” not
necessarily a precious stone; but it is possible that we may have here
an allusion to some earlier form of talisman, in which only the Sun,
Moon, and the five planets were represented.

It is easy to understand that such a talisman as the naoratna,
combining the favorable influences of all the celestial bodies supposed
to govern the destinies of man, must have been highly prized, and we
may well assume that only the rich and powerful could own this talisman
in a form ensuring its greatest efficacy. For the Hindus believed that
the virtue of every gem depended upon its perfection, and they regarded
a poor or defective stone as a source of unhappiness and misfortune.

In modern times this talisman is sometimes differently composed. A
specimen shown in the Indian Court of the Paris Exposition of 1878
consisted of the following stones: coral, topaz, sapphire, ruby, flat
diamond, cut diamond, emerald, amethyst, and carbuncle. Here the cut
diamond, amethyst, and carbuncle take the place of the jacinth, pearl,
and cat’s-eye.

Instead of uniting the different planetary gems in a single ring, they
have sometimes been set separately in a series of rings to be worn
successively on the days originally named after the celestial bodies.
We read in the life of Apollonius of Tyana (first century A.D.) by
Philostratus: “Damis also relates that Iarchas gave to Apollonius seven
rings named after the planets, and the latter wore these, one by one,
in the order of the weekdays.”[367] Although it is not expressly stated
that the appropriate stones were set in the rings, the custom of the
time makes it probable that this was the case.


NINE GEMS.

English Sanskrit Burmese Chinese (Canton) Arabic

Diamond Vajra Chein Chun-syak Mâs
Ruby Manikya Budmiya Se-fla-yu-syak Yâkût bihar
Cat’s-eye Vaidûrya Châno Mâu-ji gan Ain al-hirr
Zircon Gomeda Gomok Pi-si Hajar yamânî
Pearl Muktâ Pa-le Chun-ti Lûlû
Coral Pravâla Tadâ Sau-ho-chi Murjân
Emerald Marakata Mujâ Luk-syak Zumurrud
Topaz Pushyaraga Outfiyâ Si-lang-syak Yâkût al-azrak
Sapphire Nîla Nîlâ Chang-syak Yâkût al-açfar

Among the Burmese the value for occult purposes of the nine gems
composing the naoratna, or nararatna, is strictly determined in the
following order: first, the ruby; second, the diamond, or rock-crystal;
third, the pearl; fourth, the coral; fifth, the topaz; sixth, the
sapphire; seventh, the cat’s-eye; eighth, the amethyst; and ninth, the
emerald.[368] That the ruby, diamond and pearl should occupy places of
honor is quite natural, but the relegation of the sapphire to sixth
place, after coral and topaz, seems to be a rather unfair treatment of
this beautiful stone.

The yellow girdles worn by the Chinese emperors of the Manchu dynasty
were variously ornamented with precious stones according to the
different ceremonial observances at which the emperor presided. For
the services in the Temple of Heaven, the very appropriate choice
of lapis-lazuli ornaments was made; for the Altar of Earth, yellow
jade was favored; for a sacrifice on the Altar of the Sun, the gems
were red corals, while white jade was selected for the ceremonies
before the Altar of the Moon. Jade of different colors was used for
the six precious tablets employed in the worship of heaven and earth
and the four cardinal points. For the worship of Heaven there was
the dark-green round tablet; for that of Earth, an octagonal tablet
of yellow jade. The East was worshipped with a green pointed tablet;
the West was worshipped with the white “tiger-tablet”; the North with
a black, semi-circular tablet, and the South with a tablet of red
jade.[369]

Of all the Chinese works on jade the most interesting and remarkable
is the _Ku yü t’ou pu_ or “Illustrated Description of Ancient Jade,”
a catalogue divided into a hundred books and embellished with upward
of seven hundred figures. It was published in 1176, and lists the
magnificent collection of jade objects belonging to the first emperor
of the Southern Sung dynasty. One of the treasures here described was
a four-sided plaque of pure white jade over two feet in height and
breadth, and it was regarded as of altogether exceptional value, for
on it was a design miraculously engraven. This was a figure, seated on
a mat, with a flower-vase on its left and an alms-bowl on the right,
in the midst of rocks enveloped in clouds. The figure was an image of
the Buddhist saint, Samantabahadra, and the plaque is said to have
been washed out of a sacred cave in the year 1068, by a violent and
mysterious current.[370]

Jade talismans are very popular at the present day in the Mohammedan
world, and among the Turks they are so highly prized as heirlooms that
it is difficult to secure any of them. There is an orthodox Mohammedan
sect, whose members call themselves Pekdash, and who during their whole
lifetime carry about with them a flat piece of jade as a protection
against injury or annoyance of every kind.[371]

The four rain-making gods are shown wearing necklaces of coral and
turquoise in the ceremonial sand-paintings of the Navajos. These four
gods are respectively colored to denote the four cardinal points;
black for North, blue for South, yellow for West, and white for East.
The whole painting, measuring nine by thirteen feet, is guarded on
three sides by magic wands; toward the East it is left unprotected,
as only good spirits are believed to dwell in this direction. Each of
the rain-gods carries suspended from his right wrist an elaborately
decorated tobacco pouch, bearing the figure of a stone pipe. The
Navajos believe that in this pouch the god places a ray of sunlight
with which he lights his pipe; when he smokes, clouds form in the sky
and the rain descends. In the sand-picture representing the God of
the Whirlwind this divinity also wears ear-pendants and a necklace of
turquoise.[372]

Of the turquoise in Aztec times we have the testimony of the missionary
Bernardino de Sahagun that one variety, presumably that regarded as the
finest and most attractive, bore the name _teuxivitl_, which signified
“turquoise of the gods.” No one was allowed either to own or wear this
as it was exclusively devoted to the service of the gods, whether as a
temple offering, or for the decoration of the divine images. Sahagun
describes this turquoise as “fine, unspotted and very clear. It was
very rare and was brought to Mexico from afar. Some specimens were of
rounded shape, like a hazel-nut cut in half; others were broad and
flat, and some were pitted as though in a state of decomposition.”[373]

The god of fire, Xiuhtecutli, or Ixçocauhqui, presided over the
ceremony of piercing the ears of the young boys and girls. The image
of this god was decorated with ear-rings encrusted with a mosaic of
turquoise. He held in his left hand a buckler on which were five large
green stones called _chalchiuitl_ (jadeite), placed in the form of a
cross on a plate of gold almost covering the shield.[374]

At the time of the Spanish Conquest an immense emerald, almost as large
as an ostrich egg, was adored by the Peruvians in the city of Manta.
This “emerald goddess” bore the name of Umiña, and, like some of the
precious relics of the Christian world, was only exhibited on high
feast days, when the Indians flocked to the shrine from far and near,
bringing gifts to the goddess. The wily priests especially recommended
the donation of emeralds, saying that these were the daughters of the
goddess, who would be well pleased to see her offspring. In this way
an immense store of emeralds rewarded the efforts of the priests, and
on the conquest of Peru all these fine stones fell into the hands of
Pedro de Alvarado,[375] Garcilasso de la Vega, and their companions.
The mother emerald, however, had been so cleverly concealed by the
priests of the shrine that the Spaniards never succeeded in gaining
possession of it. Many of the other emeralds were destroyed because of
the ignorance and stupidity of some of their new owners, who, supposing
that the test of a true emerald was its ability to withstand hard
blows, laid the stones on an anvil and hammered them to pieces. The old
and entirely false notion that the genuine diamond could endure this
treatment may have suggested the unfortunate test.

Garcilasso likens the growth of the emerald in its mine to that of
a fruit on a tree, and he believed that it gradually acquired its
beautiful green hue, that part of the crystal nearest the sun being
the first to acquire color. He notes an interesting specimen found in
Peru, half of which was colorless like glass, while the other half was
a brilliant green; this he compares with a half-ripened fruit.[376]

The remarkable jade adze, generally known as the “Kunz adze,” was
found in Oaxaca, Mexico, brought to the United States about 1890, and
is now in the American Museum of Natural History, New York. Of a light
greenish-gray hue, with a slight tinge of blue, this jade artefact is
272 mm. long (10-13/16 inches), 153 mm. wide (6 inches) and 118 mm.
thick (4-5/8 inches); its weight is 229.3 Troy ounces, nearly sixteen
pounds avoirdupois. Rudely, but not unskilfully, carved upon its face
is a grotesque human figure. Four small, shallow depressions, one under
each eye and one near each hand, may have served to hold in place
small gold films, but no trace of gold decoration is now extant. In
its mechanical execution this adze offers evidence of considerable
skill on the part of the Aztec lapidary, the polish equalling that of
modern workers. In the fact that a large piece, which must apparently
have weighed at least two pounds, has evidently been cut out of this
implement by some one of its Indian owners, we can see a proof of the
talismanic power ascribed to jadeite in Aztec times, for there can be
little doubt that nothing less than a belief in the great virtue of
jadeite coupled with the rarity of the material could have induced the
mutilation of what must have been regarded in its time as a remarkable
work of art.[377]

The source of the prehistoric jade (nephrite and jadeite) found in
Europe, and also of that worked into ornaments by the Indians before
the Spanish Conquest of America, was long the subject of contention
among mineralogists and archæologists. In Germany this question was
denominated the _Nephritfrage_, and the most notable contribution to
the discussion was the great scientific and scholarly work issued by
Heinrich Fischer.[378] His conclusion was that as there was no evidence
of the existence of these minerals outside of a few localities in
Asia, the European and American supply must have been brought to these
parts of the world from Asia, and that hence the presence of these
jade artefacts in America clearly pointed to commercial intercourse at
an early period between the American continent and Asia, and might be
regarded as offering a strong argument in favor of an Asiatic origin
for an American civilization. According to this theory the prehistoric
jade objects found in Europe must have had a similar source, and would
constitute a proof of the existence of traffic with remote points in
Asia at a date long previous to that commonly accepted.

This view was strongly opposed by Prof. A. B. Meyer, of Dresden, and
recent discoveries have effectively disproved the theory in the case
of Europe at least, for nephrite has been found there _in situ_ in
several places. The largest mass of this material that has been taken
from a European deposit is that found by the writer at Jordansmühl in
Silesia, in April, 1899, and which weighed 4704 pounds.[379] The origin
of American jade in the forms of nephrite and jadeite has not yet
been definitely determined, but we have every reason to suppose that
deposits of these minerals will eventually be discovered in various
parts of the American continent, as they have already been in Europe.
Indeed, the existence of nephrite in Alaska is already well attested.

The peculiar and characteristic qualities of these substances have
made them favorite materials for ornamental objects from the earliest
ages down to our own day, and in almost all parts of the world. A most
important element contributing to the popularity of jade has been its
supposed possession of wonderful talismanic and therapeutic virtues,
and while the Western world has not the same belief in these matters
as the Eastern world, a more or less definite appreciation of what
jade still signifies for many in the Orient, continues to exercise an
influence over both Americans and Europeans, making objects of nephrite
or jadeite highly prized everywhere at the present time.

The term _chalchihuitl_ was indifferently applied by the ancient
Mexicans to a number of green or greenish-white stones; _quetzal
chalchihuitl_, which was regarded as the most precious variety, may
perhaps have more exclusively denoted jadeite. This is somewhat
indefinitely described by Sahagun as being “white, with much
transparency, and with a slight greenish tinge, something like jasper.”
Of eight ornamental objects of green stone examined some years ago by
the writer, four were of jadeite, one of serpentine, another of green
quartz, and the remaining two of a mixture of white feldspar and green
hornblende. An inferior kind of _chalchihuitl_, said by Sahagun to have
come from quarries in the vicinity of Tecalco, appears to have been
identical with the so-called “Mexican onyx” which is found in veins in
that place and is an aragonite stalagmite. This material, from which
figures, ornaments and beads were made by the ancient Mexicans, is
to-day greatly valued as an ornamental stone.

The greater number of ancient Mexican jadeite beads appear to have been
rounded pebbles of this material, assorted as to size and drilled for
use in making necklaces. Other green stones used at this time in Mexico
were green jasper, green plasma, serpentine and also the “Tecalco
onyx” or “marble” above mentioned. In many cases these substances are
of such rich green that they might easily be mistaken for jadeite by
those who lacked the tests or the experience at the command of modern
mineralogists. Should jadeite ever be found _in situ_ in Mexico, it
seems probable that the discovery will be made in the State of Oaxaca,
whence came the finest ancient specimens, including the splendid
votive adze. Moreover, one of the few materials by which jadeite can
be worked is furnished by the streams of this region, whence have been
taken several rolled pebbles which the writer has identified as yellow
and blue corundum, the quality being equal to that of specimens from
Ceylon.[380]

Gesner describes one of the lip ornaments worn by the aborigines of
South America in the following words:[381]

A green stone or gem which the inhabitants of the West Indies use.
They pierce their lips and insert this stone so that the thicker
part adheres to the hole and the rest protrudes. We might call these
ornaments _oripenduli_ [mouth-pendants]. This stone was given me by
a learned Piedmontese, Johannes Ferrerius, and he wrote of it as
follows: “I send a cylindrical green stone, as long as a man’s middle
finger, and having at one extremity two ridges. It is stated that the
Brazilians of high rank wore these, from their youth, in their pierced
lips; one or more being worn according to the dignity of the wearer.
While eating, or whenever they so wish for any other reason, these
ornaments are removed from the lips.”

Similar ornaments, made of a green quartz and of beryl, are in the Kunz
collection in the Field Museum of Chicago.

The reason for these strange mutilations, which often cause serious
discomfort to those who practice them, is not at all easy to determine.
Some have conjectured that by the insertion of bright, colored objects
in the ears, nose and lips, members of the same tribe were enabled
to recognize each other at a distance; each tribe having selected a
particular color. However, although certain local preferences are shown
in the matter of color or material, there is no hard and fast rule
in this matter, and frequently neighboring tribes will employ stones
or shells of the same or similar hue and appearance. Others find in
this custom a religious significance and suppose that the mutilation
represents a form of sacrifice to the spirits, good or bad, who must
be rendered favorable to man by some act on his part showing his
unconditional submission to them. Originating in this way the idea of
adornment was a secondary impulse. It is a fact that ancient peoples
regarded the wearing of ear-rings as a badge of slavery, and, according
to a Rabbinical legend, Eve’s ears were pierced as a punishment for her
disobedience, when she was driven from the Garden of Eden.

A curious theory was advanced by Knopf.[382] He calls attention to the
habit children have of thrusting small bright objects into their noses
and ears, and suggests that this indicates a natural propensity which,
coupled with the early-developed love of adornment, induced primitive
man to affix ornamental objects on or in the nose, ear, or mouth. There
may be more in this than we are willing to admit, but on the whole it
seems most probable that ceremonial and religious considerations gave
rise to the custom.

One of the largest masses of sculptured Chinese jade is in the
collection of T. B. Walker, Esq., of Minneapolis. This shows a jade
mountain, with groups of figures artistically placed at its base, and
winding pathways up to its summit. On the face of the rock is inscribed
in beautiful Chinese characters the Epidendron Pavilion Essay of Wang
Hi-che, a masterpiece of Chinese calligraphy.

An enormous mass of New Zealand jade (punamu, “green stone”) weighing
7000 pounds, found in South Island in 1902, is to be seen in the
Museum of Natural History, New York; it was secured by the writer and
was donated to the Museum by the late J. Pierpont Morgan. This is
the largest mass of jade known, or of which we have any record. On
it is placed a remarkable and, in its own peculiar way, an artistic
decoration, serving as a type of old Maori life, and at the same
time designating the geographic source of the jade in a striking and
unmistakable manner calculated to appeal to the least intelligent
visitor. This is a statue of a Maori warrior of the old days, executing
a war dance, characteristics of which were a distortion of the features
and a thrusting out of the tongue intended to express defiance and
contempt of the enemy; the time or cadence of the dance was marked by
slapping the thigh with the flat of the left hand. This figure was
executed from life by Sigurd Neandross; indeed it was actually cast
from the model, so that there can be no doubt as to its fidelity.

Rock-crystal is included among the various objects used as fetiches by
the Cherokee Indians. This stone is believed to have great power to
give aid in hunting and also in divining. One owner of such a crystal
kept his magic stone wrapped up in buckskin and hid it in a sacred
cave; at stated intervals he would take it out of its repository and
“feed” it by rubbing over it the blood of a deer. This goes to prove
that the stone, as a fetich, was considered to be a living entity and
as such to require nourishment.[383]

Precious stones have been everywhere regarded as especially appropriate
offerings at the shrine of a divinity, for the worshipper naturally
thought that what was most valuable and beautiful in his eyes must also
be most pleasing to the divinity he worshipped. However, we rarely find
the usage which was remarked by Francisco Lopez de Gomara among the
Indians of New Granada about the time of the Spanish Conquest.[384]
These natives “burned gold and emeralds” before the images of the sun
and moon, which were regarded as the highest divinities. Certainly to
use precious stones for a “burnt offering” was an original and curious
idea, although we have abundant proof that pearls were offered in this
way by the mound-builders of the Mississippi Valley. In this case great
quantities of pearls were burned at the obsequies of the chiefs of the
tribes, or at those of any one belonging to the family of a chief.

In ancient Mexico the lapidaries adored the four following divinities
as their tutelary gods: Chiconaui Itzcuintli (“nine dogs”), Naualpilli
(“noble necromancer”), Macuilcalli (“five horses”), and Cintectl
(“the god of harvest”). A festival was celebrated in honor of the
three last-named divinities when the zodiacal sign called _chiconaui
itzcuintli_ was in the ascendant. A feminine divinity represented this
sign and to her was attributed the invention of the garments and the
ornaments worn by women. The four gods of the lapidaries were looked
upon as the discoverers and teachers of the art of cutting precious
stones and of piercing and polishing them, as well as of the making of
labrets and earflaps of obsidian, rock-crystal, or amber. They also
were the inventors of necklaces and bracelets.[385]

The stones worn by Chinese mandarins as a designation of their rank
were undoubtedly determined originally by religious or ceremonial
considerations. They are as follows; it will be noticed that red stones
are given the preference:

Red or pink tourmaline, ruby (and rubellite) 1st rank.
Coral or an inferior red stone (garnet) 2d rank.
Blue stone (beryl or lapis-lazuli) 3d rank.
Rock-crystal 4th rank.
Other white stones 5th rank.

The knowledge of classical mythology was so slight among the
ecclesiastics of the Middle Ages that some very queer attributions of
the subjects engraved on Greek and Roman gems were made during this
period. A reliquary containing a tooth of the Apostle Peter, preserved
in the Cathedral of Troyes, was set with antique gems which had been
plundered by French and Venetian crusaders from the treasure-house
of the Greek Emperor in Constantinople, when that city was sacked in
1204 during the Fourth Crusade. Among these gems was one representing
Leda and the Swan—certainly a curious subject for the adornment of
a Christian reliquary. Another Greek or Roman gem, long preserved in
a church, was furnished by its Christian owners with an inscription
indicating that the figure engraved upon it was that of St. Michael,
while in reality it was a representation of the god Mercury. Still
another gem was provided with an inscription signifying that the
subject was the temptation of Mother Eve in the Garden of Eden, but the
Greek gem engraver’s intent had been to carve the figures of Zeus and
Athena, standing before an olive tree, a design which appears on some
Athenian coins; at the feet of the divinities appears a serpent. In a
similar way the grain-measure crowning the head of Jupiter-Serapis led
to the attribution of a gem so engraved to the patriarch Joseph.[386]

An engraved amethyst bearing the figure of a little Cupid is said to
have been worn in a ring by St. Valentine. While this may be somewhat
doubtful, it is by no means impossible, for many pagan gems were worn
by pious Christians, who reconciled their consciences to the use of
these beautiful but scarcely religious ornaments by giving to the pagan
symbols a Christian meaning. Certainly, in view of the time-honored
customs connected with St. Valentine’s Day, there seems something
peculiarly appropriate in the design of the ring supposed to have been
worn by St. Valentine.

That precious stones had sense and feeling was quite generally believed
in medieval times, and a legend told of St. Martial illustrates this
idea. The gloves worn by this saint were studded with precious stones,
and when on a certain occasion a sacrilegious act was committed in
his presence, the gems, horrified at the sight, sprang out of their
settings and fell to the ground before the eyes of the onlookers.

The St. Sylvester or St. James stone is a banded agate in two colors,
the one dark and the other light, with a cat’s-eye effect so that both
colors are equally visible. The light side represents the old year,
with its known occurrences, and the opaque side represents the new
year, which is dark like futurity. This is a typical stone for a New
Year’s present or for one born on St. Sylvester’s Day, the last day of
the year. The popular tradition is that the member of a family or a
household who is last to arise on that day will be the last to arise
all the year around.

The famous “Sacro Catino” preserved in Genoa was long believed to be
made of a single immense emerald, but careful investigation proved that
it was of no more valuable material than green glass. A legend still
current in the early part of the sixteenth century represented this
cup, or dish, as having been used by Christ at the Last Supper, and
stated that it was one of the utensils which King Herod ordered to be
brought from Galilee to Jerusalem for the celebration of the paschal
feast; but his purpose having been changed by Divine Providence, he
made other use of it.[387]

A queer story has been told regarding the Genoese emerald. At one
time when the government was hard pressed for money, the Sacro Catino
was offered to a rich Jew of Metz as pledge for a loan of 100,000
crowns. He was loath to take it, as he probably recognized its spurious
character, and when his Christian clients forced him to accept it under
threats of dire vengeance in case of refusal, he protested that they
were taking a base advantage of the unpopularity of his faith, since
they could not find a Christian who would make the loan. However, when
some years later the Genoese were ready to redeem this precious relic,
they were much puzzled to learn that a half-dozen different persons
claimed to have it in their possession, the fact being that the Jew had
fabricated a number of copies which he had succeeded in pawning for
large sums, assuring the lender in each case that the redemption of the
pledge was certain.

Among the celebrated emeralds noted by George Agricola[388] (1490-1555)
was a large one preserved in a monastery near Lyons, France. This is
also mentioned by Gesner, who states that it was shaped as a dish,
or shallow cup, and was held to be the Holy Grail, like its rival at
Genoa.[389] Another of Agricola’s emeralds was somewhat smaller, but
nevertheless measured nine inches in diameter and was in the chapel
of St. Wenceslaus, at Prague; this may have been a chrysoprase, as
at the present day many fine specimens of this stone can be seen in
St. Wenceslaus, where the walls are inlaid with the golden green
gem-stone. Still another, larger than the last named, was set in the
gold monstrance in Magdeburg, and was believed to have been the handle
of Emperor Otho I’s knife, since it was perforated. Possibly, however,
the emerald, if genuine, was an Oriental stone, for it was customary to
pierce rubies, sapphires, emeralds, etc., in the East so as to string
them for necklaces or attach them as pendants to a jewel.

In the convent-church of St. Stephan, in Persian Armenia, erected about
the middle of the seventeenth century, it is related by the French
traveller Tavernier that there was preserved a cross said to be made
out of the basin in which Christ washed the feet of the Apostles. Set
in this cross was a white stone, and the priests asserted that when the
cross was laid upon the body of one seriously ill, this stone would
turn black if he were about to die, but would regain its white hue
after his death.[390]

No jewelled sacred image has been the object of greater reverence than
has been accorded to the rude little wooden carving popularly known as
the “Sacro Bambino” or “Sacred Baby,” in the old church of Ara Coeli
in Rome. This figure was carved, in 1847, by a monk, out of a piece of
olive-wood from one of the ancient trees growing on the Mount of Olives
near Jerusalem. The carving was executed in the Holy Land and was sent
thence to Italy, and although the ship bearing it was shipwrecked, this
precious freight was miraculously preserved and is supposed to have
been conveyed to its destination in some mysterious way. The reverence
of the thousands of pilgrims who in the course of time have gazed
with veneration upon this quaint and curious work of art, has found
expression in the bestowal of a wealth of gems and jewels, including
necklaces, brooches, rings, etc., with which the silken dress of the
image is studded. A crown of gold adorned with precious stones rests
upon the head of the olive-wood figure, which is jealously guarded
by the priests and only shown to the faithful as a particular favor,
except on the occasion of certain religious festivals.

One of the most renowned emeralds in the world surmounted the
elaborately jewelled imperial crown that was placed upon the head of
the venerated image of the Virgen del Sagrario in the Cathedral of
Toledo. This emerald, of a rich green color, was cut as a perfect
sphere and measured about 40 millimetres, or 1½ inches, in diameter.
The crown itself was the work of the Toledan goldsmith, Don Diego Alejo
de Montoya, who began his task in 1574 and devoted twelve years to its
completion. It is described as being of almost pure gold and executed
in the Renaissance style. Curiously chased in arabesque designs and
enamelled in various colors, the framework of the crown served as a
magnificent background for the gems constituting its adornment, which
comprised rubies, emeralds, and Oriental pearls; a row of angels and
cherubs sustained the arches which bore at their summit the allegorical
figures of Faith, Hope, and Charity; upon that representing Faith
rested the splendid emerald. This precious ornament was still preserved
in the Cathedral in 1865, but was so carelessly guarded that it was
stolen in 1869.[391]

If we are to believe the following anecdote, the emerald disappeared
at an earlier date: It is said that in 1809, during the French
occupation of Spain, Marshal Junot visited this cathedral, and the
emerald was pointed out to him as one of the chief glories of the
shrine. As soon as the marshal’s covetous glance rested upon the gem,
he plucked it from its setting, remarking, coolly, to the astonished
and horrified bystanders, “This belongs to me.” Then, smiling and
bowing, he left the cathedral with the emerald safely ensconced in his
waistcoat pocket. Later, it was replaced by an imitation in glass.

The famous collection of jewels gathered together in the treasury of
the Santa Casa, at Loreto, Italy, was plundered during the French
occupation in 1797, and all trace of most of the magnificent ornaments
has been lost. These represented the gifts of many crowned heads and
titled personages; among the former was the unfortunate Henrietta
Maria, wife of Charles I, who donated a golden heart-shaped jewel with
the words “Jesus Maria” incrusted in diamonds. This jewel is described
as being “as big as both a man’s hands, opened onto two leaves, on
one of which was the figure of the Blessed Virgin and on the other a
portrait of the queen herself.”[392] Of the many rich vestments for
decorating the statue of the Virgin in the sanctuary, the most splendid
was the gift of the Infanta Isabel of Flanders, and was valued at
40,000 crowns. In a seventeenth-century account by an English traveller
it is thus described:[393]

Its set thick with six rows of diamonds downe before, to the number of
three thousand, and its all wrought over with a kinde of embroidery of
little pearle set thick everywhere within the flowers with great round
pearle, to the number twenty thousand pearles in all.

The same writer tells us the niche in which the statue was placed was
bordered with a row of precious stones of great number, size, and
value, the colors being so varied that this bordering formed “a rich
Iris of several colors.” There is also said to have been a great pearl,
set in gold, and engraved with the image of the Virgin and Child.[394]
It seems probable that this was a jewel made of a baroque pearl, or
pearls, completed by enamel-work so as to represent the sacred figures.

The pectoral cross worn in solemn processions by the prior of the
monastery of San Lorenzo del Escorial was adorned with eight perfect
emeralds, five diamonds, and five pearls. From it hung a splendid
pear-shaped pearl, the gift of Philip II in 1595, and one of the
finest of those acquired by this monarch. In 1740 the cross was valued
at 50,000 crowns, Philip’s great pearl not being included in this
valuation.[395]

The monastery of Streoneshalh, later Whitby Abbey, was founded
about 656 A.D. by Oswy, King of Northumbria, in fulfilment of a vow
made before his victory over the pagan king Penda, at the battle of
Winwidfield, fought in November, 654. St. Hilda was made abbess of this
monastery, and Oswy’s daughter Aelfleda took the veil and eventually,
in 680, succeeded Hilda as abbess; she died in 713.[396] Tradition
relates that at this early date crosses and rosaries were made for the
inmates of the monastery from the jet found in the neighborhood. The
“Whitby jet,” so popular and fashionable in the eighteenth century, was
largely derived from the same source, and since then has had several
revivals, until replaced by black-stained chalcedony, the so-called
onyx, and, later still, by steel carved with glass and glass itself.

In the sixteenth century jet was popularly called “black amber,” and
Cardano states that in his time beads of this material were made up
into rosaries. He also says that curious figures made of jet were
brought from Spain to Italy.[397]

Many are unaware of the fact that a number of ornamental objects made
of nephrite and jadeite—unquestionably of European origin—are to be
seen in the quiet little town of Perugia. These objects, collected
principally in central and southern Italy, constitute the Belucci
Collection, in that city. This collection also contains other specimens
of worked jadeite, which must have been brought to Europe at the time
of the Spanish conquest of Mexico and Peru. A very interesting example
shows us the utilization of a pagan celt to form a Christian emblem.
By the removal of a rectangular piece from each of the four corners of
the jadeite celt, a perfect cross has been made, the back and front of
which still offer the original polish given to the material centuries
ago by the native American worker. The superstitious belief propagated
in Europe by the returning Spanish sailors, very probably an invention
of their own to enhance the value of their jade and jadeite, that
these minerals were worn by the natives as a cure for diseases of the
kidneys, whence the name _lapis nephriticus_, rendered the material
exceptionally precious in the eyes of many, and quite possibly it may
have been thought that, by transforming this object into the sacred
form of the cross, a talisman would be produced that would not only
effect the cure of a special disease, but would also by its superior
virtue guard the wearer from harm and danger of all kinds. Here may
also be seen some celts of European jade sewed up in little bags to be
worn on the loins.

Certain curious amulets called _magatama_ (crooked jewels) have been
found in Japanese graves of the iron age;[398] they are formed of
various materials, among others of steatite, jasper, carnelian, agate,
rock crystal, chrysoprase and nephrite (jade). In the shell heaps of
a period preceding the iron age, the magatama are frequently made of
horn, or of boar’s or wolf’s teeth, and their peculiar form, which
is variously explained as a symbol, may have been conditioned by the
shape of the materials originally used. The _magatama_ were evidently
regarded as amulets. “They are generally perforated at the thick end,
and were worn on a string, together with beads and bugles of the same
material.” These peculiar ornaments were used to adorn the statues of
the gods and were also employed as imperial insignia and distinctive
marks of high rank. At the present day they are numbered among the
three emblems of sovereignty in Japan.

A green and a red magatama are combined in the national emblem of Korea
and a similar figure is used in China to symbolize the union of the
masculine and feminine principles (Yang and Yin) in nature. Dr. Baelz
believes that the swastika emblem, encountered in so many different
parts of the world, belongs to the same order of ideas.

The Bghai tribes of Burma have many superstitions in regard to stones,
such as garnets, rock-crystal, chalcedony, carnelian, agate, onyx
and others of less value, their repute not depending entirely or
principally upon their quality as gem-stones. In almost every household
is installed a stone fetish, and blood offerings are on occasion made
to this. A question as to the reason for this offering elicited the
following reply: “If we do not give it blood to eat it will eat us.” A
common belief was that spirits good or bad dwelt in the stones, and in
case a great misfortune befell a family, this was sometimes laid to the
charge of such a spirit. The father of a family having died, his widow
commanded her son to throw away their magic stone. This he did, but the
spirit was not to be denied, for shortly afterward this very stone was
found to have returned to its accustomed place, and had even brought
two companion stones with it![399]

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo, who travelled in the East during the years
1403-1406, gives a description of a slab of stone bearing the outlines
of a “natural picture,” and placed in the church of St. Sophia, in
Constantinople:[400]

In the wall, on the left-hand side, there is a very large white
slab, on which, among many other figures, was drawn, very naturally,
without any human artifice of sculpture or painting, the most sacred
and blessed Virgin Mary, with our Lord Jesus Christ in her most holy
arms, with his most glorious forerunner, St. John the Baptist, on one
side. These images, as I said before, are not drawn or painted with
any color, or inlaid, but the stone itself gave birth to this picture,
with its veins, which may be clearly seen; and they say that when this
stone was cut, to be placed in this most holy place, the workman saw
these most wonderful and fortunate images on it, and, as this church
was the most important one in the city, that stone was deposited in
it. The said images appear as if they were in the clouds of heaven,
and as if there was a thin veil before them.

Many other examples of these “natural gems” are noted by early writers.
Among them was an agate gem in the treasury of the Basilica of St.
Mark, in Venice. Upon this gem appeared the head of a king, adorned
with a diadem, the whole design being figured naturally by the veining
of the agate, and not owing anything to artifice. In the same city,
upon a column in the church of San Georgio Maggiore, could be seen the
likeness of Our Lord, hanging from the Cross.[401]

Such stones, with peculiar markings indicating the form of human heads
and figures, were regarded as the work of higher powers.

Another remarkable example is described by Kircher as follows:[402]

In Rome, in the Chapel of the Sacred Virgin, near the organ to the
right hand of those who enter the Church of St. Peter, an image may be
seen in which the Blessed Virgin of Loreto is so artistically depicted
by Nature that it appears to be the work of an artist’s hand. She is
attired in a triple garment, divided by a zone, and holds in her arms
the child, who is distinguished by a crown, as is the mother. Around
may be seen the figures of angels.

The red spots upon the bloodstone were said in Christian legend to
represent the blood of Christ. This idea has been beautifully utilized
in some gems cut from this stone, whereon the thorn-crowned head of
Christ is so placed that the red spots of the bloodstone figure the
drops of blood trickling down the hair and face of the Saviour. Such a
gem might well be looked upon as a Christian amulet and one that could
be reverently worn by any believer.

The ignorance in the Middle Ages of the art of gem-engraving often
induced the belief that engraved stones were the work of nature. A
striking instance of this was the celebrated stone over the figure of
the Mother of Jesus, on the tomb of St. Elizabeth of Marburg. On this
gem appeared two heads touching each other, and it was, according to
tradition, not a work of art, but a freak of the sculptress Nature. An
oft-repeated legend tells us that a former Elector of Mainz offered the
whole district of Amöneberg for this costly stone, which robber hands
removed at Cassel. It is in reality a fine onyx engraved with the heads
of Castor and Pollux.[403]

We might be disposed to regard rather sceptically the tales regarding
wonderful stones bearing the image of Christ, or that of the Virgin
Mary, and we may be inclined to believe that the old accounts are
exaggerated or distorted by the pious imaginations of the writers.
Nevertheless, in our own time we have a well-attested case of the
discovery of such a stone.

In 1880, while visiting the village of Oberammergau, Bavaria, to
witness the Passion Play, Mrs. Eugenia Jones-Bacon, of Atlanta,
Georgia, found on Mount Kopfel, which overlooks the village, a small
stone composed of chert and limestone, and having on its surface
excrescences so disposed that, when the stone was held at a certain
angle, the shadows cast by them formed a striking likeness of the head
of Christ as depicted in Christian art. This peculiar freak specimen
has been carefully examined by experts and has been pronounced to be
entirely a work of nature. The mineralogist is not disposed to see here
anything more than coincidence, and yet the most sceptical cannot fail
to be impressed by the fact that such a stone was found at the time
and place of the Passion Play. As Max Müller said, in commenting on
this strange discovery: “The chapter of accidents is much larger than
we imagine,” and the present writer feels disposed to add that it is
remarkable how often we find what we are looking for, especially if we
are only looking or thinking of one object or subject.

The religious symbolism of the diamond was a favorite theme with the
thirteenth century “lapidaria,” or rhymed treatises on precious stones.
Just as it could only be discovered by night—an old fancy—so was the
Incarnation a hidden mystery; it gave forth a great light, just as
Jesus illumined the depths of Hades when he descended thither; it was
unconquerably hard, and who can resist the might of God?[404]

The mediæval Italians who were fond of seeking some hidden and
significant meaning in the names of precious stones, in the case of
the diamond (diamante), read the phrase _amante di Dio_, or “lover
of God.”[405] This was a reason for regarding the brilliant gem as a
sacred stone and one especially suitable for religious use.

The Rosicrucians, who sought to combine pagan with Christian types and
figures, saw in the amethyst and the amethystine color a symbol of the
divine male sacrifice, since the stone and the color were typical of
love, truth, passion, suffering, and hope. The love of Christ led him
to make the supreme sacrifice and suffer the agony of the Cross, and
the Crucifixion was followed by the Resurrection, whence came the hope
of mankind to enjoy eternal happiness in heaven.

The chiastolite, or macle, shows the representation of a cross on
its surface, this effect being produced by the regular arrangement
of carbonaceous impurities along the axes of the crystal. The name
signifies a marking resembling the Greek letter Χ (chi). This marking
is often very striking in appearance, and the crystal was naturally
regarded as having a mystical and religious significance. It was said
to stanch the flow of blood from any part of the body if worn so as to
touch the skin, and it was also believed to increase the secretion of
milk. All kinds of fevers were cured by this mineral if it were worn
suspended from the neck, and the divine symbol it bore served to drive
away evil spirits from the neighborhood of the wearer.

This very interesting mineral occurs very frequently in mica schists.
When found, it appears about the thickness of a small finger, tapering
slightly at each edge. If broken near one end, it often shows a white
cross with a veined outline of black, making a distinct cross with
black markings. The crystals frequently measure from two to four inches
in length, and are found in Massachusetts, California, and other
places. If small segments are broken off, it will be found that the
black outline will become stronger, and the white less marked, until
finally a black cross will appear, with white markings. The white
material is the result of two white wedges pushed point onward until
the ends meet, the narrow end of one wedge being crossed by the broad
end of the second wedge, and the black filling in the balance of the
square. No two of these square crosses can thus ever be exactly alike,
and, when polished, the crystals naturally form an interesting stone
that was known as _lapis crucifer_, or cross-stone by the ancients.

The peculiar form of the mineral known as staurolite (from the Greek
σταυρός cross) is due to the twinning of two crystals at right angles.
In Cronstedt’s treatise on mineralogy, published in Stockholm in 1758,
we are told that the staurolite was sometimes called Baseler Taufstein
(baptismal-stone) or _lapis crucifer_, the former name being used in
Basel, where the stone was employed as an amulet at baptisms. However,
the _lapis crucifer_ of De Boot appears from his description to have
been the chiastolite. In Brittany these twin crystals were worn as
charms, and local legends state that they had dropped from the heavens.

Fine crystals of staurolite have been found in Patrick County,
Virginia, and there is said to be a beautiful local legend in regard
to their origin. Near where they are found there wells up a spring of
limpid water, and the story goes that one day, long, long ago, when the
fairies were dancing and playing around this spring, an elfin messenger
winged his way through the air and alighted among them. He bore to
them the sad tidings of the crucifixion of Christ in a far-off city.
So mournful was his recital of the sufferings of the Saviour that the
fairies burst into tears, and these fairy tear-drops, as they fell to
earth, crystallized into the form of the cross. These natural crosses
are in great demand as charms, and ex-President Roosevelt is said to
wear one of them mounted as a watch-charm.

There has been found in the southern part of New Mexico, and in
northern Mexico, a blue variety of calamine, a hydrous silicate of
zinc, colored blue by an admixture of copper. This stone has been cut
into gem form and has been sold to a certain extent as a cheap gem.
It is translucent and is sometimes veined with white wavy lines. The
Mexican Indians employed in the mines often set up a cross and a candle
near where they are working, so that they may pay their devotions at
this improvised shrine. In Sonora and Western Chihuahua the Indians
frequently place a piece of the stone to which we have alluded
alongside the cross. They may be attracted by its beautiful blue color,
or they may believe that it is a turquoise, although it does not
resemble this latter stone, which is more opaque, of a different shade
of blue and of a different composition.

In some epitaphs the hope of the resurrection finds expression in
likening the body enclosed in its narrow coffin to a precious jewel in
its casket. The following lines from a tombstone erected in 1655 to
the memory of Mary Courtney, at Fowell, Cornwall, England, give a good
example of this class of inscription:[406]

Near this a rare jewell’s set,
Clos’d up in a cabinet.
Let no sacrilegious hand
Breake through—’tis y^e strickte comaund
Of the jeweller: who hath sayd
(And ’tis fit he be obey’d)
I’ll require it safe and sound
Both above and under ground.

In a churchyard at Prittlewell, Essex, England, a rather whimsical
treatment of the same idea is offered by some verses engraved on the
stone marking the graves of two wives of a certain Freeborne, the first
of whom died in 1641 and the second in 1658. The bereaved husband
seems to have been perfectly willing to await the Day of Judgment for
the return of his lost spouses:[407]

Under this stone two precious gems do ly
Equall in weight, worth, lustre, sanctity:
Yet perhaps one of them do excell;
Which was’t who knows? ask him y^t knew y^{em} well
By long enjoyment. If he thus be prest,
He’el pause, then answere: truly both were best:
Were’t in my choice that either of y^e twain
Might be returned to me to enjoy agayne,
Which should I chuse? Well, since I know not whether;
Ile mourne for the losse of both, but wish for neither,
Yet here’s my comfort, herein lyes my hope,
The tyme a comeinge cabinets shall ope
Which are lockt fast: then shall I see
My Jewells to my joy, my Jewells mee.

The Christian symbolism of colors has in many cases determined the
use of certain colored gems for religious ornaments, and therefore
the following summary of their principal significance is of interest
here:[408]

WHITE is regarded as the first of the canonical colors, and as
emblematic of purity, innocence, virginity, faith, life, and light.
For this reason it is used in the ceremonies of Easter and Christmas,
as in those of the Circumcision and Epiphany of Our Lord. As the
color of virginity it is especially appropriate for the festival of
the Virgin Mary, and as that of faith not sealed with blood, for the
festivals of the saints who were not martyred. The heavenly host of
angels and saints wear white robes, and in pictures of the Assumption
of the Virgin she is frequently clad in white.

RED is used at the feasts of the Exaltation and Invention of the
Cross, at Pentecost, and at the Feast of Martyrs. It suggests and
symbolizes suffering and martyrdom for the faith, and the supreme
sacrifice of Christ upon the Cross. Divine love and majesty are also
typified by this color.

BLUE is an emblem of the celestial regions and of the celestial
virtues. Nevertheless, as this is not one of the five canonical
colors, it is not employed for the decoration of churches or for
ecclesiastical vestments. In Christian art, however, the Virgin and
the saints and angels are often robed in blue.

YELLOW of a golden hue is emblematic of God’s goodness and of faith
and good works, but it is not a canonical color. A dull yellow,
however, has the opposite signification, and is a type of treachery
and envy. Hence Judas is garbed in yellow of a dull hue, and heretics
wore garments of this shade when they were condemned to the stake.

GREEN is the canonical color for use on Sundays, week-days, and
ordinary festivals. Hope and joy and the bright promises of youth are
signified by green.

VIOLET, another canonical color, is appropriate for use on
Septuagesima and Quinquagesima Sundays, during Lent, and on Advent
Sunday. The chastening and purifying effects of suffering find
expression in this color.

BLACK, also a canonical color, is a symbol of death and of the
mourning and sorrow inspired by death. Therefore it is only used in
the Church on Good Friday, to symbolize the sorrow and despair of the
Christian community at the death of Christ, a sorrow soon to be turned
to joy by His glorious resurrection.


VIII

On the High-Priest’s Breastplate


Very early, and very naturally, the religious nature of man led to
the use of precious stones in connection with worship—the most
valuable and elegant objects being chosen for sacred purposes. Of
this mode of thought, we have a striking instance in the accounts
given, in the book of Exodus, of the breastplate of the High-priest,
and the gems contributed for the tabernacle by the Israelites in the
wilderness. Another religious association of such objects is their use
to symbolize ideas of the Divine glory, as illustrated in the visions
of the prophet Ezekiel and in the description of the New Jerusalem
in the book of Revelation. Apart from such legitimate uses, however,
gems have become associated with all manner of religious fancies and
superstitions, traces of which appear in the Talmud, the Koran, and
similar writings; they have also been dedicated to various heathen
deities. Even in modern times, some trace of the same ideas remains in
the ecclesiastical jewelry and its supposed symbolism.

In the vision of Ezekiel i, 26, and in a brief allusion to the similar
appearance of the God of Israel in Exodus xxiv, the throne of Jehovah,
or the pavement beneath his feet, is compared to a sapphire, and the
Apostle John, in the Apocalypse, describes the Great White Throne as
surrounded by a rainbow like an emerald.

The Rabbinical writings, instead of the simple grandeur of these
biblical comparisons, give us many fanciful ideas. The stones of the
breastplate are here represented as sacred to twelve mighty angels
who guard the gates of Paradise, and wondrous tales are told of the
luminous gems in the tent of Abraham and the ark of Noah. Mohammedan
legend represents the different heavens as composed of different
precious stones, and in the Middle Ages these religious ideas became
interwoven with a host of astrological, alchemistic, and medical
superstitions.

The following is the description of the breastplate given in Exodus
(xxviii, 15-30):

And thou shalt make the breastplate of judgment with cunning work;
after the work of the ephod thou shalt make it; of gold, of blue, and
of purple, and of scarlet, and of fine twined linen shalt thou make it.

Foursquare it shall be being doubled; a span shall be the length
thereof, and a span shall be the breadth thereof.

And thou shalt set in it settings of stones, even four rows of stones:
the first row shall be a sardius, a topaz, and a carbuncle: this shall
be the first row.

And the second row shall be an emerald, a sapphire, and a diamond.

And the third row a ligure, an agate, and an amethyst.

And the fourth row a beryl, and an onyx, and a jasper; they shall be
set in gold in their enclosings.

And the stones shall be with the names of the children of Israel,
twelve, according to their names, like the engravings of a signet;
every one with his name shall they be according to the twelve tribes.

And thou shalt make upon the breastplate chains at the ends of
wreathen work of pure gold.

And thou shalt make upon the breastplate two rings of gold, and shalt
put the two rings on the two ends of the breastplate.

And thou shalt put the two wreathen chains of gold in the two rings
which are on the ends of the breastplate.

And the other two ends of the two wreathen chains thou shalt fasten
in the two ouches, and put them on the shoulder-pieces of the ephod
before it.

And thou shalt make two rings of gold, and thou shalt put them upon
the two ends of the breastplate in the border thereof, which is in the
side of the ephod inward.

And two other rings of gold thou shalt make, and shalt put them on the
two sides of the ephod underneath, toward the forepart thereof, over
against the other coupling thereof, above the curious girdle of the
ephod.

And they shall bind the breastplate by the rings thereof unto the
rings of the ephod with a lace of blue, that it may be above the
curious girdle of the ephod, and that the breastplate be not loosed
from the ephod.

And Aaron shall bear the names of the children of Israel in the
breastplate of judgment upon his heart, when he goeth in unto the holy
place, for a memorial before the Lord continually.

And thou shalt put in the breastplate of Judgment the Urim and the
Thummim; and they shall be upon Aaron’s heart, when he goeth in before
the Lord: and Aaron shall bear the judgment of the children of Israel
upon his heart before the Lord continually.

Of the miraculous quality of the stones worn by the high-priest, the
Jewish historian Josephus (37-95 A.D.) says:[409]

From the stones which the high-priest wore (these were sardonyxes,
and I hold it superfluous to describe their nature, since it is known
to all), there emanated a light, as often as God was present at the
sacrifices; that which was worn on the right shoulder instead of a
clasp emitting a radiance sufficient to give light even to those
far away, although the stone previously lacked this splendor. And
certainly this in itself merits the wonder of all those who do not,
out of contempt for religion, allow themselves to be led away by a
pretence of wisdom. However, I am about to relate something still more
wonderful, namely, that God announced victory in battle by means of
the twelve stones worn by the high-priest on his breast, set in the
pectoral. For such a splendor shone from them when the army was not
yet in motion, that all the people knew that God himself was present
to aid them. For this reason the Greeks who reverence our solemnities,
since they could not deny this, called the pectoral λόγιον or oracle.
However, the pectoral and the onyxes ceased to emit this radiance
two hundred years before the time when I write this, because God was
displeased at the transgressions of the Law.

This writer, who must have seen the high-priest wearing his elaborate
vestments, says that the breastplate was adorned “with twelve stones of
exceptional size and beauty, a decoration not easily to be acquired, on
account of its enormous value.”[410] However these gems were not merely
rare and costly; they also possessed wonderful and miraculous powers.
Writing about 400 A.D., St. Epiphanius, Bishop of Constantia, tells of
a marvellous _adamas_ which was worn on the breast of the high-priest,
who showed himself to the people, arrayed in all his gorgeous
vestments, at the feasts of Pascha, Pentecost, and Tabernacles. This
adamas was termed the δήλωσις or “Declaration,” because, by its
appearance, it announced to the people the fate that God had in store
for them. If the people were sinful and disobedient, the stone assumed
a dusky hue, which portended death by disease, or else it became the
color of blood, signifying that the people would be slain by the sword.
If, however, the stone shone like the driven snow, then the people
recognized that they had not sinned, and hastened to celebrate the
festival.[411]

There seems to be little doubt that this account is nothing more than
an elaboration and modification of the passage in Josephus. Evidently
the λόγιον (oracle) of Josephus has become the δήλωσις (declaration).

When Moses wished to engrave on the stones of the breastplate the
names of the twelve tribes of Israel, he is said to have had recourse
to the miraculous _shamir_. The names were first traced in ink on the
stones, and the shamir was then passed over them, the result being
that the traced inscriptions became graven on the stones. In proof of
the magical character of this operation, no particles of the gems were
removed in the process.[412] The name really designates “emery.”

An argument against the use of especially rare and costly stones in the
decoration of the breastplate has been found in its probable size.[413]
We are told that when folded it measured a span in each direction, and
this would indicate that its length and breadth were each from eight
to nine inches. In this case the stones themselves might have measured
two by two and a half inches, and, in view of the number of characters
required to express some of the tribal names, these dimensions do not
seem excessive. It is highly improbable that in the time of Moses
precious stones like the ruby, the emerald, or the sapphire would have
been available in these dimensions. The difficulty of engraving very
hard stones with the appliances at the command of the Hebrews of this
period must also be taken into consideration. As we shall see, however,
there is good reason to believe that after the Babylonian Captivity a
new breastplate was made, and at that time it may have been easier to
secure and work precious stones of great value and a high degree of
hardness. We must also bear in mind that in those periods perfection
was not so great a requisite as rich color.

In his commentary on Exodus xxviii, Cornelius à Lapide (Cornelius Van
den Steen) discusses the question of the diamond in the high-priest’s
breastplate. In the first place, he notes that the diamond was very
costly, and that a large stone would have been needed to bear the
name of Judah or that of any other tribe. He considers that a stone
of the requisite size would have cost a hundred thousand gold crowns,
and he asks, “Whence could the poor Hebrews have obtained such a sum
of money, and where could they have found such a diamond?” He proceeds
to give still another reason for doubting that the diamond was in the
breastplate,—namely, that it would have marked too great a distinction
between the tribes, the result being that the tribe to which the
diamond was assigned would have been puffed up with pride, while the
others would have been filled with hatred and envy, “for the diamond is
the Queen Gem of all the gems.”[414]

The use of the breastplate to reveal the guilt of an offender is
testified to in a Samaritan version of the book of Joshua, which has
been discovered by Dr. Moses Gaster, chief rabbi of the Spanish and
Portuguese Jews in England. According to this version, Achan steals
a golden image from a heathen temple in Jericho. The high-priest’s
breastplate reveals his guilt, for the stones lose their light and grow
dim when his name is pronounced.

Many conjectures have been made as to the origin of the breastplate
with the mystic Urim and Thummim enclosed within it. That an Egyptian
origin should be sought seems most probable. A breast-ornament worn
by the high-priest of Memphis, as figured in an Egyptian relief,
consists of twelve small balls, or crosses, intended to represent
Egyptian hieroglyphics. As it cannot be determined that these figures
were cut from precious stones, the only definite connection with the
Hebrew ornament is the number of the figures; this suggests, but fails
to prove, a common origin. The monuments show that the high-priest
of Memphis wore this ornament as early as the fourth Dynasty, or,
approximately, 4000 B.C.[415]

Of the Urim and Thummim, the mysterious oracle of the ancient Hebrews,
St. Augustine (354-450 A.D.), after acknowledging the great difficulty
of interpreting the meaning of the words and the character of
the oracle, adds that some believed the words to signify a single
stone which changed color according as the answer was favorable or
unfavorable, while the priest was entering the sanctuary; still he
thought it possible that merely the letters of the words Urim and
Thummin were inscribed upon the breastplate.[416]

After the capture of Jerusalem by Titus in 70 A.D., the treasures of
the temple were carried off to Rome, and we learn from Josephus that
the breastplate was deposited in the Temple of Concord, which had
been erected by Vespasian. Here it is believed to have been at the
time of the sacking of Rome by the Vandals under Genseric, in 455,
although Rev. C. W. King thinks it is not improbable that Alaric,
king of the Visigoths, when he sacked Rome in 410 A.D., might have
secured this treasure.[417] However, the express statement of Procopius
that “the vessels of the Jews” were carried through the streets of
Constantinople, on the occasion of the Vandalic triumph of Belisarius,
in 534, may be taken as a confirmation of the conjecture that the
Vandals had secured possession of the breastplate and its jewels.[418]

It must, however, be carefully noted that Procopius nowhere mentions
the breastplate and that it need not have been included among “the
vessels of the Jews.” It appears that this part of the spoils of
Belisarius was placed by Justinian (483-565) in the sacristy of the
church of St. Sophia. Some time later, the emperor is said to have
heard of the saying of a certain Jew to the effect that, until the
treasures of the Temple were restored to Jerusalem, they would bring
misfortune upon any place where they might be kept.[419] If this story
be true, Justinian may have felt that the fate of Rome was a lesson for
him, and that Constantinople must be saved from a like disaster. Moved
by such considerations, he is said to have sent the “sacred vessels” to
Jerusalem, and they were placed in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

This brings us to the last two events which can be even plausibly
connected with the mystic twelve gems,—namely, the capture and sack
of Jerusalem by the Sassanian Persian king, Khusrau II, in 615, and
the overthrow of the Sassanian Empire by the Mohammedan Arabs, and the
capture and sack of Ctesiphon, in 637.[420] If we admit that Khusrau
took the sacred relics of the Temple with him to Persia, we may be
reasonably sure that they were included among the spoils secured by the
Arab conquerors, although King, who has ingeniously endeavored to trace
out the history of the breastplate jewels after the fall of Jerusalem
in 70 A.D., believes that they may be still “buried in some unknown
treasure-chamber of one of the old Persian capitals.”

A fact which has generally been overlooked by those who have embarked
on the sea of conjecture relative to the fate of the breastplate stones
is that a large Jewish contingent, numbering some twenty-six thousand
men, formed part of the force with which the Sassanian Persians
captured Jerusalem, and they might well lay claim to any Jewish
vessels or jewels that may have been secured by the conquerors. In this
case, however, it is still probable that these precious objects fell
into the hands of the Mohammedans who captured Jerusalem in the same
year in which they took Ctesiphon.

One circumstance which may have contributed to the preservation of
these gems in their original form after they fell into the hands of
the Romans is the fact that each one was engraved with the name of
one of the Jewish tribes, the inscription being probably in the older
form of Hebrew writing, which was used in the coinage even as late as
the last revolt in 137 A.D. Hence, recutting would have been necessary
to fit them for use as ornaments, a process not easily accomplished,
and involving a great loss of size. We must also bear in mind that
the intrinsic value of the gems may not have been so great as many
suppose, since all of them were probably of the less perfect forms of
the precious and semi-precious varieties. It is very likely that the
enthusiastic statements of Josephus in this connection were dictated
by national pride, or arose from the tendency to exaggeration so
common among the Oriental writers. Certainly, if the breastplate known
to Josephus was made not long after the return of the Jews from the
Babylonian Captivity, their financial resources at the time of its
fabrication were quite restricted.

Admitting as a possibility that the Arabs may have secured possession
of the breastplate, how would they have regarded it? The heroes of the
Old Testament, and especially Moses, were such sacred personalities in
the eyes of Mohammedans that this relic would have been as precious
for them as for us. However, the victorious Arabs who overran the
Sassanian Empire, although filled with religious zeal, were no students
of archæology, and would have been quite unable to decipher the
strange characters engraved on the stones. They would most probably
have supposed them to be Persian characters, and would, therefore, have
valued these stones no higher than others in the Persian treasure.
This can serve as an explanation of the fact that no allusion to the
breastplate with its adornment can be found in the works of those
Mohammedan writers, such as Tabari, who treat of the overthrow of the
Sassanian Empire. We may be sure that the Persians themselves would
have accorded no special honor to objects connected with the Hebrew
religion, since their own Zoroastrian faith had no connection with it.

In 628, not long before the date of the Arab invasion, the most
precious relic of Christendom, the cross discovered by Helena, mother
of Constantine the Great, and believed to be the very cross on which
Christ died, was surrendered to the Greek Emperor Heraclius by Kobad
II, son of Khusrau II, on the conclusion of a treaty of peace between
the Eastern and Sassanian Empires. This cross was one of the sacred
objects borne away to Persia from Jerusalem by Khusrau in 615 A.D.
It is said to have been guarded carefully through the influence of
Sira, Khusrau’s Christian wife. There is a bare possibility that
other objects of religious veneration, taken from Jerusalem, may have
been given up by the Persians at the same time, and that the unique
character of the most important relic so overshadowed all others that
historians have failed to note the fact. The cross was restored to
Jerusalem by Heraclius in 629, only to fall into the hands of the
Mohammedans when that city was taken by the Arabs under Omar, in 637.
Hence, if the jewelled breastplate had also been surrendered by Kobad,
it would probably have shared the same fate.

We have here a wide field for conjecture,—but, unfortunately,
nothing more. Still, in the absence of any definite and trustworthy
information, there is a kind of romantic interest in viewing the
various possible relations of the mystery surrounding the fate of the
most precious gems, historically at least, that have ever existed.
More especially is this interest justified in the case of all who are
disposed to prize gems and jewels for their symbolic significance, for,
as we have shown, this significance, as far as concerns natal stones
and the spiritual interpretation of the qualities of the heart and
soul symbolized by the color and character of the principal precious
and semi-precious stones, has its root in the veneration felt by early
Christian writers, beginning with the author of the Apocalypse, for
the unforgotten and unforgettable gems that were worn by the Hebrew
high-priest.

A rather ingenious utilization of the reputed powers of Aaron’s
breastplate comes to us in a book printed in Portland, Maine.[421] The
writer assumes that the Urim and Thummim enclosed in the folds of the
breastplate consisted of twelve stones, duplicates of those engraved
with the names of the tribes, and so disposed that, when they were
shaken to and fro and then allowed to come to rest, three of them
would become visible through an aperture in the ephod just beneath
the rows of set stones. The signification of the oracle is given by
the various combinations of color offered by the three stones that
reveal themselves; to each combination a prearranged meaning is given.
That anything of the kind could have been true of the original Urim
and Thummim is scarcely worthy the trouble of refutation, but the
practical result of this modern experiment is a clever oracle which
will probably enjoy a certain vogue.

For those who, with the late lamented Lieutenant Totten, see in the
tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim the Anglo-Saxons of England and the
United States, and who look upon George V as the king who sits upon the
throne of David, these symbolical stones of the breastplate acquire an
added significance. While not pretending to be able to follow all the
intricate and certainly most ingenious and interesting speculations
of this school of Biblical exegesis, we cannot help expressing some
astonishment that Ephraim should be thought to prefigure England and
Manasseh the United States, instead of _vice versa_. In Gen. xlviii,
17-20, the text more especially referred to in these speculations,
Jacob’s blessing is bestowed upon Ephraim, in spite of Joseph’s protest
that it should go to the _eldest_ son, Manasseh. To this protest Jacob
answers: “I know it, my son, I know it: he also [Manasseh] shall become
a people, and he also shall be great: but truly his younger brother
shall be greater than he, and his seed shall become a multitude of
nations.” Certainly the very composite population of the United States
perfectly merits this description. As a general rule, the Hebrews, when
using the names Ephraim and Manasseh as tribal designations, maintained
the twelve-fold division of the people, by substituting these tribes
for Joseph and by dropping the name of Levi from the list, the tribe of
Levi being assigned as priests to the care of the sanctuary, and not
participating in the division of the Land of Promise.

In the Midrash Bemidbar, the Rabbinical commentary on Numbers, the
tribes are given in their order, with the stone appropriate to each
and the color of the tribal standard pitched in the desert camp, this
color corresponding in each, case with that of the tribal stone.
This list represents a tradition dating back to at least the twelfth
century and possibly much earlier than that; hence its value should
not be underestimated, although we may not accept it without some
reserves.[422]

Odem Reuben Red
Pitdah Simeon Green
Bareketh Levi White, black and red
Jophek Judah Sky-blue
Sappir Issachar Black (like stibium)
Yahalom Zebulun White
Leshem Dan Sapphire-color
Shebo Gad Gray
Ahlamah Naphtali Wine-color
Tarshish Assher Pearl-color (?)
Shoham Joseph Very black
Yashpheh Benjamin Colors of all the stones

In the attempt to determine the identity of the stones enumerated
in Exodus xxviii and xxxix, as adorning the breastplate of the
high-priest, we must bear in mind that this “breastplate of Aaron”
and the one described by Josephus, and brought by Titus to Rome after
the capture of Jerusalem in 70 A.D., are in all probability entirely
distinct objects. The former, if it ever existed, except in the ideal
world of the authors of the Priestly Codex, must have been composed
of the stones known to and used by the Egyptians of the thirteenth
or fourteenth century, B.C., some of them being, perhaps, set in the
“jewels of gold and jewels of silver” borrowed by the Israelites from
the Egyptians just before the Exodus; on the other hand, the most
trustworthy indications regarding the stones of the breastplate of
the Second Temple, made perhaps in the fifth century B.C., should be
sought in the early Greek and Latin versions of the Old Testament, and
in the treatise on precious stones by Theophrastus, who wrote about 300
B.C. The Natural History of Pliny, that great storehouse of ancient
knowledge, and other early writers, may also be used with profit.

I. Odem. [אֹדֶם.] The etymology of this word clearly indicates that
we have to do with a red stone, most probably the carnelian. We know
that in ancient Egypt hieroglyphic texts from the Book of the Dead were
engraved upon amulets made from this stone, and it was also used for
early Babylonian cylinders. Fine specimens of carnelian were obtained
from Arabia. The Greek Septuagint and the Latin Vulgate, as well as
Josephus, in the “Wars of the Jews” (V, 5, 7), and Epiphanius, all
translate _sardius_, the ancient designation of carnelian; in his
“Antiquities,” however, Josephus renders _odem_ by “sardonyx.” The
Egyptian word _chenem_ was used to designate red stones, and seems to
have been applied indifferently to red jasper and red feldspar as well
as to carnelian; indeed, the first-named material was more freely used
in early Egyptian work than the carnelian. It is, therefore, probable
that in Mosaic times _odem_ signified red jasper, while for the fifth
century B.C. “carnelian” would be the better rendering. This modern
name of the _sardius_, signifying the “flesh-colored” stone, first
appears in the Latin translation of a treatise by Luca ben Costa, who
wrote in the tenth century A.D. The name of Reuben is said to have been
engraved on the _odem_ stone, which occupied the first place on the
breastplate.

II. Piṭdah. [פַּטְדָה.] There seems to be little doubt that this is the
_topazius_ of ancient writers, which usually signified our chrysolite,
or peridot, not our topaz; for Pliny and his successors describe the
topazius as a stone of a greenish hue. A legend related by Pliny gives
as the place of origin an island in the Red Sea, called Topazos, from
_topazein_, “to conjecture,” because it was difficult to find. However,
the Hebrew _piṭdah_ appears to have been derived from the Sanskrit
_piṭa_, “yellow,” and should, therefore, have originally signified
a yellow stone, perhaps our topaz. W. M. Flinders Petrie, probably
influenced by this Sanskrit etymology, sees in it the yellow serpentine
used in ancient Egypt. If, nevertheless, we admit that a light green
stone occupied the second place on the Mosaic breastplate, it was
perhaps the light green serpentine. This was called _meh_ in Egyptian,
and was often used for amulets. In the case of the later breastplate we
may substitute the peridot. On this second stone was engraved the name
Simeon.

III. Bareketh. [בָּרֶקֶת.] Here the Septuagint, Josephus, and the
Vulgate agree in translating _smaragdus_, and as we know that emerald
mines were worked at Mount Zabarah, in Nubia, before the beginning
of our era, and that the emerald was known and used in Egypt, there
does not seem to be any reason for rejecting the usual translation
“emerald.” Still it must be admitted that _smaragdus_ often designates
other green stones than the emerald. The suggestion has been made
(by Myers and Petrie) that the passage in Revelation iv, 3, where
the rainbow is likened to the _smaragdus_, indicates that the writer
used this name for rock-crystal; but this conjecture is scarcely
satisfactory, since it confuses the prismatic effects of light which
has traversed the crystal with the crystal itself. There can be little
doubt that a stone of brilliant coloration, like the emerald, not a
colorless one, like rock-crystal, would be used as a simile of the
rainbow. Whether the Mosaic breastplate already contained the emerald
is another question, and it seems rather more likely that green
feldspar, freely used in ancient Egypt for amulets, and known as _uat_,
was the third stone of the proto-breastplate. The Authorized Version
makes “the carbuncle” the third instead of the fourth stone. Upon the
_bereketh_ was engraved the name Levi.

IV. Nophek. [נֹפֶךּ.] This name is rendered ἄνθραξ by the Septuagint
and Josephus, and “carbunculus” by the Vulgate. This designation,
signifying literally “a glowing coal,” was used for certain stones
distinguished by their peculiarly brilliant red color, such as the ruby
and certain fine garnets. While it is quite possible that the Oriental
ruby may have been in the breastplate seen by Josephus, it is almost
certain that it could not have been in the original breastplate of
Mosaic times, since there is absolutely no proof that this stone was
known in ancient Egypt. Hence we are inclined to believe that in the
thirteenth century B.C. the name _nophek_ designated the almandine
garnet, or some similar variety of that stone. The Authorized Version
has “emerald” here instead of in the third place. On this fourth stone
of the breastplate was engraved the tribal name of Judah.

V. Sappir. [סַפִּיר] This is rendered _sapphirus_ in all the old
versions.[423] The stone cannot have been our sapphire, for both
Theophrastus and Pliny describe the _sapphirus_ as a stone with golden
spots, thus showing that they meant the lapis-lazuli, which is often
spotted with particles of pyrites having a golden sheen. This stone
was named _chesbet_ by the Egyptians, and was highly prized by them, a
quantity of lapis-lazuli often appearing as an important item in the
lists of tribute paid to Egypt and among the gifts sent by Babylonia
to the Egyptian monarchs, and obtained from the oldest mines in the
world. These were worked at a period 4000 B.C. and still are worked
to this day. From this material amulets and figures were made, many
of which have been preserved for us, and the Egyptian high-priest
is said to have worn, suspended from his neck, an image of Mat, the
Goddess of Truth, made of lapis-lazuli. The name is composed of the
Latin _lapis_, “a stone,” and _lajuward_, the name of the stone in
Persian. From this latter word is also derived our “azure.” In ancient
times the lapis-lazuli was the blue stone _par excellence_, because
of its beautiful color and the valuable ultramarine dye derived from
it. Although Pliny writes (xxxvii, 39) that this stone was too soft
for engraving, this fact need not have prevented its use in the
breastplate, since the stones set therein were not intended for use as
seals and hence were not subjected to any wear. In this connection,
however, it is somewhat strange that the Hebrew word _sappir_ appears
to indicate a stone especially adapted to receive inscriptions. The
fact that the lapis-lazuli was greatly esteemed in ancient Egypt,
and was still much used as an ornamental stone in Greek and Roman
times, renders it probable that it was set not only in the original
breastplate, but also in that of a later age. Upon this fifth stone the
name Issachar was inscribed.

VI. Yahalom. [יַהֲלֹם] The sixth stone of the Septuagint version and
of Josephus is the ἴασπις, probably green jasper, or jade, and this
has been assumed to show that in the original Hebrew text _yashpheh_
was the sixth stone, in place of _yahalom_. The twelfth stone of the
Greek version is the ὀνύχιον or “onyx,” and this seems to be the most
probable equivalent of the Hebrew _yahalom_. Some Hebrew sources,
however, render it “diamond,” and Luther in his German version of the
Bible, as well as our own Authorized Version, translates it thus. This
rendering is based upon the derivation of the word _yahalom_ from a
verb meaning “to smite,” thus making the name of the stone signify
“the smiter,” a designation not inappropriate for the diamond, which,
because of its extreme hardness, has the power to cut, or “smite,”
all other stones. However, for this purpose the emery corundum, or
smiris-point _shamir_, mentioned in Zechariah, was most likely used.
The diamond was certainly not used in this way in very early times,
although it is possible that the stone was employed in engraving in
the fifth century B.C. These considerations induce us to prefer the
traditional interpretation of _yahalom_, and translate it “onyx.” In
this case “the smiter” could be explained as denoting the use of the
engraved onyx for sealing, as the engraved figure or letters were
struck upon some soft material to make an impression. Zebulun was the
tribal name inscribed on the _yahalom_.

VII. Leshem. [לֶשֶׁם] No stone in the breastplate is more difficult
to determine than this one. The Septuagint, Josephus, and the Vulgate
all translate _ligurius_, an appellation sometimes applied to amber,
a substance quite unfitted for use in the breastplate among the other
engraved stones. Probably the original significance of _ligurius_ was
amber, this name being used because Liguria, in northern Italy, was
the chief source of supply for Greece and the Orient; amber which had
been gathered on the shores of the Baltic being brought by traders to
Liguria and forwarded thence to other lands. As, however, the Greeks
had another name for amber, _electron_, the name _ligurion_ appears to
have been applied later to a variety of the jacinth somewhat resembling
amber in color, and then to other varieties of the same stone. The
original form of the name was evidently _ligurion_, which was later
changed to _lyncurion_, and was then explained as meaning the urine
of the lynx (from λύγξ, and οὖρον, urine). This fanciful etymology
gave rise to the story that the _ligurios_, or rather _lyncurius_,
was the solidified urine of the lynx. The term _lyncurion_, as used
by Theophrastus, may possibly have included the sapphire as well
as the jacinth, since he lays especial stress upon the coldness of
this substance, a quality characteristic of the sapphire, and also
of the still denser jacinth. Hence, it appears that we have, even in
the name _ligurius_, some justification for accepting the rendering
_hyacinthus_, suggested by the list of foundation stones in Revelation
xxi, 20, and already proposed by Epiphanius, Bishop of Constantia,
about 400 A.D. Whether _hyacinthus_ should be rendered “sapphire”
or “jacinth” is not easy to determine, as this name seems to have
been used indifferently for both stones; with the Arabs, under the
form _yakut_, it became a generic term for all the varieties of the
corundum gems. The sapphire was engraved in Greek and Roman times and
is, perhaps, the _leshem_ stone of the Second Temple. For the Mosaic
breastplate we are forced to seek for some stone known in ancient
Egypt, where the sapphire does not seem to have been introduced at
an early date. If we could accept the suggestion of Brugsch that the
Egyptian _neshem_ stone, reputed to have wonderful magic virtues, was
the same as the Hebrew _leshem_, a brown agate would have been the
seventh stone in the original breastplate, as Wendel gives very strong
reasons for rendering _neshem_ in this way. The color designations were
very freely used in Egyptian, and therefore a reddish or a yellowish
brown agate may have been used. The _leshem_ bore the tribal name
Joseph.

VIII. Shebo. [שְׁבוֹ.] This is uniformly rendered in the ancient
versions and in Josephus by “agate,” a composite stone highly esteemed
in very ancient times, and hence worthy of a place among the stones of
the breastplate; at a later period, as Pliny notes (xxxvii, 54), it
became so common that it was but little regarded. Nevertheless the fact
that the various kinds of agates were believed to have many talismanic
and therapeutic virtues, the great variety of coloration observable in
these stones, and the curious figures and markings displayed by many of
them, served to make them favorite objects. The etymology of the word
_shebo_ suggests that it designated more especially a banded agate,
and that set in the proto-breastplate was most probably one with gray
and white bands, as this variety often appears in Egyptian work. There
would have been no lack of contrast between this stone and the reddish
or yellowish-brown agate, of uniform color, which may have occupied the
seventh place. For the later breastplate we may choose any one of the
many kinds of banded agate. This stone had engraved upon it the name
Benjamin.

IX. Aḥlamah. [אַחְלָמָה.] As to this stone also, all the authorities
are in agreement, and render _aḥlamah_ by “amethyst.” This was not,
however, the Oriental amethyst, a variety of corundum, but a dark
blue or purple variety of quartz. Both Arabia and Syria furnished
a supply of amethysts. The Hebrew name shows that this stone was
believed to possess the virtue of inducing dreams and visions
(cf. _halom_—“dream”), while, as is well known, the Greek name
characterizes it as an enemy or preventive of inebriety. The amethyst
was known in ancient Egypt and probably was named _hemag_. In the
Book of the Dead a heart made of _hemag_ is mentioned, and two such
heart-shaped amulets of amethyst are preserved in the Boulaq Museum. As
the amethyst retained its repute as a stone of beauty and power through
the Greek and Roman periods, we may safely assert that it was set in
both the first and second breastplates. Upon the _aḥlamah_ was engraved
the name Dan.

X. Tarshish. [תַרשִׁישׁ.] The Septuagint renders this word
“chrysolite,” where it is used in the description of the breastplate,
as does Josephus also. In the Authorized Version, “beryl” is the
rendering. We have already stated that the topaz of the ancients was
usually our chrysolite, or peridot, and the name “chrysolite” appears
to have been used to designate our topaz. This is indeed indicated
by the literal meaning of the word, “golden-stone.” The _tarshish_
received its name from Tartessus, in Spain, an important commercial
station of the Phœnicians. The stone derived from this source was not,
of course, our Oriental topaz, a variety of corundum, nor was it
the true topaz; neither is it at all likely that the name _tarshish_
signified, at least originally, the genuine topaz; most probably it
denoted a variety of quartz which occurs in Spain. This is originally
black, but is decolorized by heating to a deep brown, and if the
heating be prolonged the stone becomes paler and eventually entirely
transparent. The ancients were familiar with this property. In ancient
Egyptian records a stone called _thehen_ is frequently mentioned as a
material from which amulets were made. This Egyptian name signified
primarily a “yellow stone,” and might designate either the topaz or
the yellow jasper, known and used in Egypt at a very early date; the
topaz was probably not known there earlier than 500 or 600 B.C. Hence,
in spite of the unquestionable difficulty offered by the geographical
name _tarshish_, which might seem to confine us to a Spanish origin for
the stone, the probabilities favor the selection of the yellow jasper
as the tenth gem in Aaron’s breastplate. For that made with pious zeal
by those who labored to renew the glories of the Old Jerusalem, we
choose the topaz,—possibly, indeed, a fine specimen of the genuine
topaz,—for whatever the quality of the yellow stone originally brought
from Tartessus, the name may well have been applied to the genuine
topaz when that stone became known to the Jews, either in Babylonia, or
after their return to Palestine. The _tarshish_ was engraved with the
name Naphtali.

XI. Shoham. [שֹׁהַם.] The Septuagint translates “beryl,” but in our
Authorized Version and in that used by Roman Catholics, the so-called
Douai Version, the word is invariably rendered “onyx.” Diodorus
Siculus and Dionysius Periegetes, writing in the first century B.C.,
are the first classical authors who use the name beryl. While this
name does not appear in the treatise of Theophrastus, he evidently
includes the beryl among his _smaragdi_; indeed, the true emerald is
simply a variety of the beryl, and owes its beautiful coloration to
a slight admixture of chromium. The finest beryls were brought from
India. Besides the specimen set in the breastplate, the high-priest
wore on his shoulders two _shoham_ stones, each engraved with the
names of six of the tribes. After carefully weighing the evidence, we
believe that the stones worn by the high-priest of the Second Temple
were aquamarines (beryls). In our endeavor to determine the _shoham_
stones used in Mosaic times, we have no very definite information to
guide us; on the whole, the conjecture of J. L. Myers, that they were
malachites, seems to have much in its favor, for this material was
known to the ancient Egyptians and appears to have been often used
for amulets. The Egyptian name for malachite, as well as for other
green stones, was _mafek_, and a ring of _mafek_ is mentioned in an
Egyptian text; undoubtedly, at a later period in Egyptian history,
_mafek_ may also have denoted the beryl. In view of the fact that the
turquoise was unquestionably known to the Egyptians at a very early
date, the supply being derived from mines in the Sinai Peninsula,
which were rediscovered by Macdonald, we might be tempted to suggest
that the _shoham_ stones were turquoises. The light blue or blue-green
of the specimens of this stone found on Mt. Sinai would make an even
better contrast with the neighboring jade than would the bright green
malachite. On the shoham of the breastplate the name Gad was engraved.

XII. Yashpheh. [יָשְׁפֶה.] If, as appears almost certain, this name
originally occupied the sixth place in the original Hebrew text, all
the ancient versions agree in translating it “jasper.” An Assyrian
form of the name was _yashpu_, as is shown by the Tell el Amarna
letters in the cuneiform writing dating from not long before the
Exodus. Of all the so-called jaspers none were so highly valued as
those of a green color. The talismanic and therapeutic qualities of
the “green jaspers” are often noted by ancient writers, and, according
to Galen, these stones were recommended for remedial use by Egyptian
writers on medicine. Abel Remusat, the great French Orientalist,
writing in 1820, was one of the first to see in the _yashpheh_ of
the Hebrews and in the green jasper of the Greeks and Romans, the
material jade (nephrite or jadeite), the Chinese _yu_-stone. These
minerals were used both in the Old and the New World, and were
everywhere believed to possess wonderful virtues. Very likely the
powers supposed to characterize jade were later attributed to green
jasper, but there is every reason to suppose that the true jade was
always more highly prized than its jasper substitute, for it was much
rarer, and was easily distinguishable, by its translucency, from jasper
of a similar color. Until quite recently only Turkestan, Burma and
New Zealand have supplied jade and most of that used in other lands
came from prehistoric relics or from sources unknown to us. It seems
highly probable that the _yashpheh_ which adorned the breastplate
made for Aaron was a piece of nephrite or jadeite; possibly in the
later breastplate green jasper may have been employed. This stone was
inscribed with the tribal name Assher.

In the following lists of the precious and semi-precious stones
contained in the earlier and later breastplates, the writer does not
claim to have finally solved the problem presented by the Hebrew
accounts of the high-priest’s adornment, but he hopes that the
distinction established here between the Mosaic breastplate and that
of the Second Temple, separated from each other by an interval of eight
centuries, may serve to clear up some of the difficulties encountered
in the treatment of this subject.

The Breastplate of Aaron. The Breastplate of the Second Temple.

I Red jasper Carnelian
II Light-green serpentine Peridot
III Green feldspar Emerald
IV Almandine garnet Ruby
V Lapis-lazuli Lapis-lazuli
VI Onyx Onyx
VII Brown agate Sapphire or jacinth
VIII Banded agate Banded agate
IX Amethyst Amethyst
X Yellow jasper Topaz
XI Malachite Beryl
XII Green jasper, or jade Green jasper, or jade

The following lists show the variations of the different ancient
authorities in regard to the names of the gems in the breastplate:

Septuagint. Josephus Vulgate Authorized Revised
Hebrew. (Greek) (Greek) (Latin) Version Version
About About About 1611 A.D. 1884 A.D.
250 B.C. 90 A.D. 400 A.D.

1 Odem Sardion Sardonyx Sardius Sardius Sardius
(or Ruby)

2 Piṭdah Topazion Topazos Topazius Topaz Topaz

3 Bareḳeth Smaragdos Smaragdos Smaragdus Carbuncle Carbuncle
(or Emerald)

4 Nophak Anthrax Anthrax Carbunculus Emerald Emerald
(or Carbuncle)

5 Sappir Sappheiros Iaspis Sapphirius Sapphire Sapphire

6 Yahalom Iaspis Sappheiros Jaspis Diamond Diamond
(or Sardonyx)

7 Leshem Ligurion Liguros Ligurius Ligure Jacinth
(or Amber)

8 Shebo Achatês Amethystos Achatês Agate Agate

9 Aḥlamah Amethystos Achatês Amethystus Amethyst Amethyst

10 Tarshish Chrysolithos Chrysolithos Chrysolithus Beryl Beryl
(or Chalcedony)

11 Shoham Bêryllion Onyx Onychinus Onyx Onyx
(or Beryl)

12 Yashpheh Onychion Bêryllos Bêryllus Jasper Jasper

The high-priest’s breastplate, as described in Hebrew tradition, was
regarded by the Jews with peculiar reverence, and the stones set in
it were believed to be emblematic of many things. It is, therefore,
quite natural that these stones are described in the book of Revelation
as the foundation stones of the New Jerusalem. The names are in some
cases not identical with those given in Exodus, but this may arise from
various renderings of the Hebrew names in the Targums or in the Greek
versions.

The text in Revelation (xxi, 9-21) is as follows:

And there came unto me one of the seven angels which had the seven
vials full of the seven last plagues, and talked with me, saying, Come
hither, I will show thee the bride, the Lamb’s wife:

And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain,
and showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of
heaven from God.

Having the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone most
precious, even like a jasper-stone, clear as crystal;

And had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates, and at the gates
twelve angels, and names written thereon, which are the names of the
twelve tribes of the children of Israel:

On the east, three gates; on the north, three gates; on the south,
three gates; and on the west, three gates.

And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in them the names
of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.

And he that talked with me had a golden reed to measure the city, and
the gates thereof, and the wall thereof.

And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as large as the
breadth: and he measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand
furlongs. The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal.

And he measured the wall thereof, an hundred and forty and four
cubits, according to the measure of a man, that is, of the angel.

And the building of the wall of it was of jasper: and the city was
pure gold, like unto clear glass.

And the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all
manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper; the
second, sapphire; the third, a chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald;

The fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite; the
eighth, beryl; the ninth, a topaz; the tenth, a chrysoprasus; the
eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst.

And the twelve gates were twelve pearls; every several gate was of
one pearl: and the street of the city was pure gold, as it were
transparent glass.

It is easy to trace in this description the substitution of the
twelve apostles for the twelve tribes in connection with the precious
stones enumerated, and, besides this, we also have the twelve angels,
associated at a later date with the months and the signs of the zodiac.

Of the twelve foundation stones the Revelation of St. John expressly
states that they had “in them the names of the twelve apostles of the
Lamb.” The assignment of each stone to the respective apostle was
made in later times according to the order given in the lists of the
apostles contained in the so-called Synoptic Gospels, Matthew, Mark,
and Luke. These lists are not quite identical—Andrew, for instance,
being placed second in Matthew and Luke, but fourth in Mark—and the
same stone was not always assigned to a given apostle. Frequently
the list was modified by the addition of the apostle Paul, really
the thirteenth apostle. In this case he was usually given the second
place immediately after St. Peter, and to the brothers James and John,
the “Sons of Thunder,” was assigned a single stone; in some later
arrangements St. Paul occupies the last place, after St. Matthias, who
was chosen to take the place of Judas Iscariot, and whose name as an
apostle first appears in the Acts.

LISTS OF THE APOSTLES.

Gospel of Gospel of Gospel of
St. Matthew St. Mark St. Luke
x, 2-4. iii, 16-19. vi, 14-16.

Peter Peter Peter
Andrew James Andrew
James John James
John Andrew John
Philip Philip Philip
Bartholomew Bartholomew Bartholomew
Thomas Matthew Matthew
Matthew Thomas Thomas
James the Less James the Less James the Less
Thaddeus Thaddeus Simon Zelotes
Simon Zelotes Simon Zelotes Judas
Judas Iscariot Judas Iscariot Judas Iscariot

The passage in Revelation xxi, 19, 20, is not the only one in that book
treating of precious stones, for we read in chapter iv, 2, 3:

And immediately I was in the Spirit: and, behold, a throne was set in
heaven, and _one_ sat on the throne.

And he that sat was to look upon like a jasper and a sardine stone:
and _there was_ a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like unto
an emerald.

The commentators, both ancient and modern, have given many different
explanations of the symbolic meaning of the similes employed here. Some
have seen in the two stones a type of the two judgments of the world,
by fire and by water; others find that they signify the holiness of
God and his justice. Of the rainbow “like unto an emerald,” Alford
says we should not think it strange that the bow is green, instead of
prismatic: “the _form_ is that of the covenant bow, the color even more
refreshing and more directly symbolizing grace and mercy.”[424]

The significance of the twelve Apocalyptic gems is given by Rabanus
Maurus, Archbishop of Mainz (786-856), in the following words:[425]

In the jasper is figured the truth of faith; in the sapphire, the
height of celestial hope; in the chalcedony, the flame of inner
charity. In the emerald is expressed the strength of faith in
adversity; in the sardonyx, the humility of the saints in spite of
their virtues; in the sard, the venerable blood of the martyrs. In
the chrysolite, indeed, is shown true spiritual preaching accompanied
by miracles; in the beryl, the perfect operation of prophecy; in the
topaz, the ardent contemplation of the prophecies. Lastly, in the
chrysoprase is demonstrated the work of the blessed martyrs and their
reward; in the hyacinth, the celestial rapture of the learned in their
high thoughts and their humble descent to human things out of regard
for the weak; in the amethyst, the constant thought of the heavenly
kingdom in humble souls.

The origin of the foundation stones named in Revelation xxi, 19, 20,
may be found in the text, Isaiah liv, 11, 12, where we read:

O thou afflicted, tossed with tempest, _and_ not comforted, behold, I
will lay thy stones with fair colours, and lay thy foundations with
sapphires.

And I will make thy windows of agates, and thy gates of carbuncles,
and all thy borders of pleasant stones.

As we see, only three stones are mentioned by name: the sapphire, the
carbuncle, and “agates.” This last rendering is quite doubtful, as the
Hebrew word (_kodkodim_) signifies shining or gleaming stones, and
their use for windows indicates that they must have been transparent.
It is easy to understand that in later times the twelve stones of the
breastplate, dedicated to the twelve tribes of Israel, were used to
fill out and complete the picture, following the indication given by
the general terms “stones with fair colours” and “pleasant stones.”

In commenting on this text Rabbi Johanan is quoted in the Babylonian
Talmud as saying that God would bring jewels and pearls thirty ells
square (twenty ells in height and ten in width) and would place them
on the gates of Jerusalem. There may be in this some reminiscence of
the Apocalyptic foundation stones. A sceptical disciple said to the
Rabbi, “We do not ever find a jewel as large as the egg of a dove.”
But not long afterward, when this same disciple was sailing in a boat
on the sea, he saw angels sawing stones as immense as those described
by Rabbi Johanan, and when he asked for what they were designed, the
reply was, “The Holy One, blessed be He, will place them on the gates
of Jerusalem.”[426]

 


IX

Birth-Stones


The origin of the belief that to each month of the year a special stone
was dedicated, and that the stone of the month was endowed with a
peculiar virtue for those born in that month and was their natal stone,
may be traced back to the writings of Josephus, in the first century
of our era, and to those of St. Jerome, in the early part of the fifth
century. Both these authors distinctly proclaim the connection between
the twelve stones of the high-priest’s breastplate and the twelve
months of the year, as well as the twelve zodiacal signs. Strange to
say, however, in spite of this early testimony, we have no instance of
the usage of wearing such stones as natal stones until a comparatively
late date; indeed, it appears that this custom originated in Poland
some time during the eighteenth century. The reason for this seems to
have been that the virtues attributed to each particular stone, more
especially the therapeutic virtues, rendered it necessary to recommend
the wearing of one or the other, according to the disease from which
the person was suffering, for his natal stone might not have the power
to cure his particular ailment, or might not bring about the fulfilment
of his dearest wish. In other words, the belief in the special virtues
of the stone was paramount, and it was long before the mystic bond
between the stone of the month and the person born in that month was
fully realized.

The order in which the foundation stones of the New Jerusalem are given
in the book of Revelation determined the succession of natal stones
for the months. The first stone was assigned to St. Peter and to the
month of March, to the leader of the apostles and to the month of the
spring equinox; the second to the month of April; the third to May,
etc. When, however, many centuries later,—probably in Poland, as we
have stated,—with the aid of the rabbis or the Hebrew gem traders,
the wearing of natal stones became usual, certain changes had been
made in this order and some stones not mentioned among those of the
breastplate, or of the New Jerusalem, were substituted for certain of
these,—notably the turquoise for the month of December, the ruby for
July, and the diamond for April. In modern times the turquoise has
become the stone for July while the ruby has been assigned to December.

There is some evidence in favor of the theory that at the outset all
twelve stones were acquired by the same person and worn in turn, each
one during the respective month to which it was assigned, or during the
ascendancy of its zodiacal sign. The stone of the month was believed to
exercise its therapeutic or talismanic virtue to the fullest extent at
that period. Perhaps the fact that this entailed a monthly change of
ornaments may rather have been a recommendation of the usage than the
reverse.[427]

It seems highly probable that the development of the belief in natal
stones that took place in Poland was due to the influence of the Jews
who settled in that country shortly before we have historic notice of
the use of the twelve stones for those born in the respective months.
The lively interest always felt by the Jews regarding the gems of the
breastplate, the many and various commentaries their learned men have
written upon this subject, and the fact that the well-to-do among the
chosen people have always carried with them in their wanderings many
precious stones, all this seems to make it likely that to the Jews
should be attributed the fashion of wearing natal stones.

However, whether this conjecture be correct or erroneous, the fashion
once started became soon quite general and has as many votaries
to-day as ever before. There can be no doubt that the owner of a
ring or ornament set with a natal stone is impressed with the idea
of possessing something more intimately associated with his or her
personality than any other stone, however beautiful or costly it may
be. If it be objected that this is nothing but imagination due to
sentiment, we must bear in mind that imagination is one of the most
potent factors in our life; indeed, the great Napoleon is quoted as
saying that it ruled the world.

Probably the very earliest text we have in which the stones of the
breastplate are positively associated with the months of the year is to
be found in the “Antiquities of the Jews,” by Flavius Josephus.[428]
This runs as follows:

Moreover, the vestments of the high-priest being made of linen
signifies the earth, the blue denotes the sky, being like lightning in
its pomegranates, and resembling thunder in the noise of the bells.
And as for the ephod, it showed that God had made the universe of four
elements, and as for the gold interwoven in it, I suppose it related
to the splendor by which all things are to be enlightened. He also
appointed the breastplate to be placed in the middle of the ephod to
resemble the earth, for that occupies the middle place in the world;
and the girdle, which encompassed the high priest about, signifies
the ocean, for that goes about everything. And the two sardonyxes
that were in the clasps on the high-priest’s shoulders, indicate
to us the sun and the moon. And for the twelve stones, whether we
understand by them the months, or the twelve signs of what the Greeks
call the zodiac, we shall not be mistaken in their meaning. And for
the cap, which was of a blue color, it seems to me to mean heaven, for
otherwise the name of God would not have been inscribed upon it. That
it was also adorned with a crown, and that of gold also, is because of
the splendor with which God is pleased.

This passage was adapted by St. Jerome, three hundred years later, in
his letter to Fabiola,[429] and undoubtedly laid the foundation for the
later custom of wearing one of these stones as a natal or birth-stone
for a person born in a given month, or for an astral or zodiacal stone
for one born under a given zodiacal sign. As we see, both uses are
indicated by the passage of Josephus. In the later centuries, as the
book of Revelation, which was generally less favored at the outset
than the other parts of the New Testament, became a subject of devout
study, and a mine of mystical suggestions, the twelve foundation
stones (Rev. xxi, 19) of the New Jerusalem largely took the place of
the stones of the breastplate. While this list of foundation stones is
unquestionably based upon the much earlier list of the stones adorning
Aaron’s breastplate, the ordering differs considerably and there are
some changes in the material; possibly many, if not all, of these
differences may be due to textual errors or to a transcription from
memory.

That the foundation stones were inscribed with the names of the
apostles is expressly stated (Rev. xxi, 14), but it was not until the
eighth or ninth century that the commentators on Revelation busied
themselves with finding analogies between these stones and the
apostles. At the outset, the symbolism of the stones was looked upon
from a purely religious standpoint. Few of the early fathers—we may
except Epiphanius—thought or cared much for the stones themselves,
or knew much of them; but, in time, their natural beauty became more
and more highly developed as the lapidarian art demanded better cut
and choicer material, their supposed virtues came to the fore, and
the symbolism was strengthened and emphasized by a reference to their
innate qualities and also to their peculiar powers. The fact that
this part of the tradition was rather of pagan than of Christian
origin probably contributed to render it less attractive to the
early Christians, so that it was not until Christianity had become
practically universal in the Greek and Roman world and the opposition
to pagan traditions, as such, was weakened and, indeed, largely
forgotten, that the virtues of the stones were made prominent, and
certain parts of these superstitions were retained, as were some of the
pagan ceremonies in the Christian religion.

One of the earliest writers to associate directly with the apostles the
symbolism of the gems given as foundation stones of the New Jerusalem
by St. John in Revelation xxi, 19, is Andreas, bishop of Cæsarea.
This author was at one time assigned by critics to the fifth century
A.D.,[430] but more recent investigation has shown that he probably
belonged to the last half of the tenth century. His exposition reads as
follows:[431]

The jasper, which like the emerald is of a greenish hue, probably
signifies St. Peter, chief of the apostles, as one who so bore
Christ’s death in his inmost nature that his love for Him was always
vigorous and fresh. By his fervent faith he has become our shepherd
and leader.

As the sapphire is likened to the heavens (from this stone is made a
color popularly called lazur), I conceive it to mean St. Paul, since
he was caught up to the third heaven, where his soul was firmly fixed.
Thither he seeks to draw all those who may be obedient to him.

The chalcedony was not inserted in the high-priest’s breastplate, but
instead the carbuncle, of which no mention is made here. It may well
be, however, that the author designated the carbuncle by the name
chalcedony. Andrew, then, can be likened to the carbuncle, since he
was splendidly illumined by the fire of the Spirit.

The emerald, which is of a green color, is nourished with oil, that
its transparency and beauty may not change; we conceive this stone to
signify John the Evangelist. He, indeed, soothed the souls dejected
by sin with a divine oil, and by the grace of his excellent doctrine
lends constant strength to our faith.

By the sardonyx, showing with a certain transparency and purity the
color of the human nail, we believe that James is denoted, seeing that
he bore death for Christ before all others. This the nail by its color
indicates, for it may be cut off without any sensible pain.

The sardius with its tawny and translucent coloring suggests fire,
and it possesses the virtue of healing tumors and wounds inflicted
by iron; hence I consider that it designates the beauty of virtue
characterizing the apostle Philip, for his virtue, animated by the
fire of the Holy Spirit, cured the soul of the wounds inflicted by the
wiles of the devil, and revived it.

The chrysolite, gleaming with the splendor of gold, may symbolize
Bartholomew, since he was illustrious for his divine preaching and his
store of virtues.

The beryl, imitating the colors of the sea and of the air, and not
unlike the jacinth, seems to suggest the admirable Thomas, especially
as he made a long journey by sea, and even reached the Indies, sent by
God to preach salvation to the peoples of that region.

The topaz, which is of a ruddy color, resembling somewhat the
carbuncle, stops the discharge of the milky fluid with which those
having eye-disease suffer. This seems to denote Matthew, for he was
animated by a divine zeal, and, his blood being fired because of
Christ, he was found worthy to enlighten by his Gospel those whose
heart was blinded, that they might like new-born children drink of the
milk of the faith.

The chrysoprase, more brightly tinged with a golden hue than gold
itself, symbolizes St. Thaddæus; the gold (_chrysos_) symbolizing the
kingdom of Christ, and the _prassius_, Christ’s death, both of which
he preached to Abgar, King of Edessa.

The jacinth, which is of a celestial hue, signifies Simon Zelotes,
zealous for the gifts and grace of Christ and endowed with a celestial
prudence.

By the amethyst, which shows to the onlooker a fiery aspect, is
signified Matthias, who in the gift of tongues was so filled with
celestial fire and with fervent zeal to serve and please God, who had
chosen him, that he was found worthy to take the place of the apostate
Judas.

Some theologians were opposed to the assignment of the foundation
stones to the apostles, for they held that only Christ himself could be
regarded as the foundation of his Church. Hence the symbolism of these
stones was made to apply to Christ alone, the color of the stone often
guiding the commentator in his choice of ideas denoted by the different
gems. Thus, one writer, applying all the meanings to Christ, finds that
the greenish Jasper denotes satisfaction; the sky-blue Sapphire, the
soul; the bright-red Chalcedony, zeal for truth; the transparent green
Emerald, kindness and goodness; the nail-colored Sardonyx, the strength
of spiritual life; the red Sardius, readiness to shed His blood for the
Church; the yellow Chrysolite, the excellence of His divine nature;
the sea-green Beryl, moderation and the control of the passions;
the glass-green Topaz (chrysolite?), uprightness; the harsh-colored
Chrysoprase, sternness towards sinners; the violet or purple Jacinth,
royal dignity, and, lastly, the purple Amethyst, with a touch of red,
perfection.[432]

Andreas of Cæsarea freely recognizes his indebtedness to the much more
ancient source, St. Epiphanius, bishop of Constantia in Cyprus, who
died in 402 A.D., and who wrote a short but very valuable treatise on
the stones of the breastplate, noting in several cases the therapeutic
and talismanic virtues of these stones and giving his opinion as to the
order in which the names of the tribes were inscribed upon them.[433]
As the foundation stones of Revelation are rightly called “apostolic
stones,” so those of the breastplate merit the designation of “tribal
stones,” as well as that of astral stones; indeed, the Jews of medieval
times definitely associated the tribes with the zodiacal signs in the
following order:

Judah Aries
Issachar Taurus
Zebulun Gemini
Reuben Cancer
Simeon Leo
Gad Virgo
Ephraim Libra
Manasseh Scorpio
Benjamin Sagittarius
Dan Capricorn
Naphtali Aquarius
Asher Pisces

For Rabanus Maurus the nine gems of the king of Tyre named in Ezekiel
xxxviii, 13, are types of the nine orders of angels, just as the twelve
foundation stones of Revelation signify the twelve apostles.[434]

It is evident, from early and later usage, that, at the place and time
where and when these stones were first utilized for birth-stones, the
year must have begun with the month of March. This will be apparent
when we compare the following eight lists, carefully gathered from
various sources:

It may be interesting to show in these eight lists the stones which
are most favored in each month in the following way, the numerals
indicating the number of lists in which the stones appear (including
the alternate stones):

January Garnet 7, hyacinth 2.
February Amethyst 8, hyacinth 1, pearl 1.
March Jasper 5, bloodstone 4.
April Sapphire 7, diamond 2.
May Agate 5, emerald 4, chalcedony 1, carnelian 1.
June Emerald 4, agate 4, chalcedony 3, turquoise 1, pearl 1,
cat’s-eye 1.
July Onyx 5, sardonyx 1, carnelian 1, ruby 1, turquoise 1.
August Carnelian 5, sardonyx 3, moonstone 1, topaz 1, alexandrite 1.
September Chrysolite 6, sardonyx 2.
October Beryl, 8, aquamarine 5, opal 1.
November Topaz 8, pearl 1.
December Ruby 6, turquoise 2, chrysoprase 1, bloodstone 1.

With the exception of January, where we have the garnet instead of
the jacinth, and of December, which gives us the ruby instead of the
chrysoprase, the first choices are practically identical with the
foundation stones, bearing in mind that the eleventh stone is that for
January, the twelfth that for February, the first that for March and so
on.

Of the assignment of the natal stones to the different months of the
year or to the zodiacal signs, Poujet fils, writing in 1762, states
that in his opinion this fashion started in Germany—others say in
Poland—some two centuries before his time, and he adds that, though
this arrangement was purely imaginary, and unknown to ancient writers,
it soon became popular, and many, more especially of the fair sex,
seeing in it an element of mystery, wished to wear rings set with the
stone appropriate to the month of their birth, the stone being
engraved with the appropriate zodiacal sign.[435] However correct
Poujet may be regarding the period at which the fashion of wearing
natal rings was introduced, he is, as we have already shown, quite
wrong in believing that the serial arrangement of the stones and
their assignment to months or signs was purely imaginary, for it is
unquestionably based on the list in Revelation, which in its turn goes
back to the twelve stones of the high-priest’s breastplate.

The fashion of wearing a series of twelve stones denoting (or bearing)
the zodiacal signs seems to have existed in the sixteenth century, for
Catherine de’ Medici is said to have worn a girdle set with twelve
stones, among which were certain onyxes as large as crownpieces, upon
which talismanic designs had been engraved. Two hundred years later
this girdle is stated to have been in the possession of a M. d’Ennery,
whose collection of antique medals was regarded as the finest in Paris
at the time.[436] It is not, however, certain that the twelve stones of
Catherine’s girdle were those attributed to the zodiacal signs both at
an earlier and later period.

Though the substitution of a new schedule for the time-honored list of
birth-stones has received the approval of the National Association of
Jewellers at the meeting in Kansas City August, 1912, it can scarcely
be said to offer a satisfactory solution of the question, which has
its importance not only from a commercial point of view, but also
because the idea that birth-stones possess a certain indefinable,
but none the less real significance, has long been present and still
exercises a spell over the minds of all who are gifted with a touch of
imagination, or romance, if you will. The longing for something that
appeals to this sense is much more general than is commonly supposed,
and is a not unnatural reaction against the progress of materialism,
against the assertion that there is nothing in heaven or earth but what
we can definitely apprehend through our senses.

It is this persuasion that should be chiefly considered in any
attempt to tamper with the traditional attribution of the stones to
particular months or to the zodiacal signs. Once we allow the spirit
of commercialism pure and simple to dictate the choice of such stones,
according to the momentary interest of dealers, there is grave danger
that the only true incentive to acquire birth-stones will be weakened
and people will lose interest in them. Sentiment, true sentiment, is
one of the best things in human nature. While if darkened by fear it
may lead to pessimism, with all the evils which such a state of mind
implies, if illumined by hope it gives to humanity a brighter forecast
of the future, an optimism that helps people over difficult passages in
their lives. Thus, sentiment must not be neglected, and nothing is more
likely to destroy it than the conviction that it is being constantly
exploited for purposes of commercialism. For this reason, the interest
as well as the inclination of all who are concerned in this question of
birth-stones should induce a very careful handling of the subject.

Quite true it is that there are now, and have been in the past, several
lists of these stones, differing slightly from one another, but all are
based essentially either upon the list of foundation stones given in
Revelation (xxi, 19) or upon that of the gems adorning the breastplate
of Aaron and enumerated in Exodus (xxxix, 10-13). For convenient
reference, we give the latter according to the Authorized Version of
the Scriptures, and also as corrected by later research, and the former
according to the Authorized Version.

Breastplate. Foundation Stones.
Authorized Version. Later Correction. Authorized Version.

I Sardius Carnelian Jasper
II Topaz Chrysolite Sapphire
(peridot)
III Carbuncle Emerald Chalcedony
IV Emerald Ruby Emerald
V Sapphire Lapis-lazuli Sardonyx
VI Diamond Onyx Sardius
VII Ligure Sapphire Chrysolite
VIII Agate Agate Beryl
IX Amethyst Amethyst Topaz
X Beryl Topaz Chrysoprasus
XI Onyx Beryl Jacinth
XII Jasper Jasper Amethyst

While the arrangement differs in Revelation, the stones are nearly
identical. For chalcedonius, we should probably read _carchedonius_,
a name of the ruby; sardonyx is the onyx of Exodus; the jacinth
(sapphire) is probably the “ligure”; the sapphire was the lapis-lazuli,
and sardius is equivalent to carnelian. There thus remains only the
chrysoprase, which for some reason has substituted the agate. In the
eventual association of the foundation stones with the months, the
first, the jasper, was assigned to March, with which month the year was
reckoned to begin.

The list suggested and adopted in Kansas City reads as follows:

Month. Birth-stone. Alternate Stone.

January Garnet
February Amethyst
March Bloodstone Aquamarine
April Diamond
May Emerald
June Pearl Moonstone
July Ruby
August Sardonyx Peridot
September Sapphire
October Opal Tourmaline
November Topaz
December Turquoise Lapis-lazuli

Among the many changes in this list from that habitually followed,
it will be noted that the ruby is transferred from December to July,
changing places with the turquoise, which became the gem of December.
This has been favored on the ground that the warmer-colored gem was
best adapted for a July birth-stone, while the paler turquoise was best
suited to a winter month, when the sun’s rays are feeble. The contrary,
however, is true; for it is in winter that we seek for warmth, while
in the heat of summer nothing is more grateful than coolness. This
transposition is, in effect, simply a return to the ordering of these
stones in the Polish list, which may perhaps have become popular in
Europe in the eighteenth century through Marie Leczinska, the queen of
Louis XV. Another undesirable change takes the chrysolite (peridot)
from the place it has always occupied as the gem of September, and
makes of it an alternate for August, with the sardonyx, while the
sapphire, properly the gem for April, is made the birth-stone for
September. For October neither the tourmaline nor the opal is as
appropriate as the beryl, while for June we should prefer the asteria
to the moonstone as a substitute for the pearl.

This suggested radical change or violation cannot be permitted. The
time-honored ordering is familiar now to all who are interested in
the matter, and any change, even if one apparently for the better, is
liable to disturb the popular confidence in those who are supposed
to be familiar with the subject. Above all, there should be no
duplication or triplication of birth-stones for any given month, the
choice between a birth-stone or an astral or zodiacal stone or the
combination of these affording all the variety that is necessary or
should be desired.

As the diamond does not appear to have been known to the ancients
and is not given in any of the lists of birth-stones before the last
century, and as diamonds, like gold and platinum, may easily be used as
accessories to other stones, would it not perhaps be better to omit the
diamond from the list of the stones of the months, and rather use these
gems as a bordering or other ornate addition to the stone of the month?
The pearl, which is not a stone in any sense of the word, should not
appear in the list at all; but it can be worn in some device suggesting
a sentiment, as, for instance, an emblem of purity, etc.

The tourmaline, as a gem only known in modern times or since the
eighteenth century, seems out of place in the list of birth-stones,
which ought only to comprise precious or semi-precious stones which
have been known and worn from ancient times.

“Astral stones” or “zodiacal stones” are terms used to designate those
gems which were believed to be peculiarly and mystically related to the
zodiacal signs. While these signs constitute a twelve-fold division of
the year just as do the months, they do not exactly coincide with the
latter as now reckoned, but overlap them, so that the sign Aquarius,
for instance, covers the period from January 21 to February 20, that of
Pisces from February 21 to March 20, that of Aries, the spring sign,
from March 21 to April 20, and so on down to Capricornus, which begins
at the winter solstice. Thus, every necessary opportunity is afforded
for enlarging the selection of natal stones while preserving the
traditional order of those appropriate to the months, an order which
in its origin dates back to the early Christian centuries and which,
from the close relation with the sacred gems of the Scriptures, it
seems almost sacrilegious to violate by arbitrary changes.

Then, in addition, we have the “talismanic gems,” or the stones of the
twelve guardian angels, one set over all those born in each month.
Here we have another time-honored list, differing from either of those
mentioned above, so that, in almost if not quite every case, each
person has the choice between three different stones as “birth-stones,”
or can have them combined in an artistic jewel so as to profit by all
the favorable influences promised by the old authorities Thus, there
is absolutely no excuse for playing fast and loose with an ancient,
popular, and quasi-religious belief in the special virtue of _one
particular stone_ for each month, and that one the gem long prescribed
by usage

As it might seem appropriate that one born in the United States should
wear a gem from among those which our country furnishes, the following
list was some time since prepared by the writer, not in any sense as a
substitute for the real birth-stones, but as possible accessory gems
(when they were not identical), gems which might be worn from a spirit
of patriotism Of course where the stone in question is really that
traditionally recommended, the fact that it is at the same time an
American gem-stone is an added argument in its favor

Month. Stones. Where found.

January Garnet, rhodolite Montana, New Mexico, Arizona,
North Carolina
February Amethyst North Carolina, Georgia, Virginia
March Californite California
April Sapphire Montana, Idaho
May Green tourmaline Lake Superior
June Moss-agate California, Montana, Wyoming, Arizona
July Turquoise New Mexico, California, Arizona
August Golden beryl California, Connecticut,
North Carolina
September Kunzite California
October Aquamarine North Carolina, Maine, California
November Topaz Utah, California, Maine
December Rubellite Montana

The year is divided into four seasons or cycles,—spring, summer, fall,
and winter,—and each season has its particular gem The emerald is the
gem of the spring, the ruby the gem of summer, the sapphire the gem of
autumn, and the diamond the gem of winter

For spring, no precious stone is more appropriate than the emerald.
Its beautiful color is that of Nature, for Nature clothes herself with
green when she awakens from her long rest of winter. Having decked
herself with green of the various tints and colors, she has selected
a background by which a contrast is made for the flowers that come in
the spring and summer and ripen into fruit and seeds of autumn. To be a
seasonable gem it must be rare, and the emerald is rare. Whether found
in the mines of Bogotá, whether mined in ancient times at Zabarah in
Egypt, or in the past century in the Ural Mountains, it has never been
found in abundance. It is softer in color than the ruby and less hard
in structure.

The ruby, although as a natal stone it belongs to December, is the gem
of summer. It is born in the hot climates,—the pigeon’s-blood ruby in
Burma, the pomegranate-red in Ceylon, and the more garnet-hued type
in Siam,—these three equatorial countries produce the ruby. Those
of large size are always rare, and this is the gem which Job valued
more highly than any other, although “garnet” may perhaps be a better
rendering. It is on an equal plane in hardness, in composition, in
crystalline structure, and in every way, with the sapphire. These are
sister gems, structurally alike, yet varying in complexion, due to a
slight difference which some scientists think is not even dependent
upon the coloring matter.

The sapphire—the gem of autumn, the blue of the autumn sky—is a
symbol of truth, sincerity, and constancy. Less vivid than its sister
gem, the ruby, it typifies calm and tried affection, not ardent
passion; it is therefore appropriate to the autumn season, when the
declining sun no longer sends forth the fiery rays of summer but shines
with a tempered brilliancy.

The diamond, the gem of winter, typifying the sun, is the gem of
light. Its color is that of ice, and as the dewdrop or the drop of
water from a mountain stream sparkles in the light of the sun, as the
icicle sparkles in winter, and the stars on a cold winter night, so
the diamond sparkles, and it combines and contrasts with all known
gems. Like light, it illumines them just as the sun does the plants
of the earth. The diamond, the gem of light, like light itself when
broken into a spectrum, gives us all known colors, and by combining all
these colors it gives us white. Like gold, the diamond was made rare,
so that it must be searched for, and the mines and deposits contain
less of these two substances in a given area than of any other known
materials. It is thirty to a hundred times more rare than gold, for if
gold occurs one part in 250,000, it can scarcely be worked with profit,
while the diamond can be worked to advantage when found only one part
in 10,000,000,—yes, even one part in 25,000,000—and, like gold, it
sometimes spurs the searcher on to wealth or to ruin. As great nuggets
of gold have occasionally been found, so has a diamond been discovered
large enough to make the greatest ruler pause to pay its price, and one
which it took an entire country to give to that ruler who sways his
sceptre over countries in which the world’s greatest diamonds have been
found.

When the God of the Mines called his courtiers to bring him all known
gems, he found them to be of all colors and tints, and of varying
hardnesses, such as the ruby, emerald, sapphire, etc., etc. He took
one of each; he crushed them; he compounded them, and said: “Let this
be something that will combine the beauty of all; yet it must be pure,
and it must be invincible.” He spoke: and lo! the diamond was born,
pure as the dewdrop and invincible in hardness; but when its ray
is resolved in the spectrum, it displays all the colors of the gems
from which it was made. “Mine,” said the god, “must be the gem of the
universe; for my queen I will create one that shall be the greatest gem
of the sea,” and for her he created the pearl.


Gems of Spring Gems of Summer

Amethyst Zircon
Green diamond Garnet (demantoid and ouvarite)
Chrysoberyl Chrysoberyl (alexandrite)
Spinel (rubicelle) Spinel
Pink topaz Pink topaz
Olivine (peridot) Ruby
Emerald Fire opal

Gems of Autumn Gems of Winter

Hyacinth Diamond
Topaz Rock-crystal
Sapphire White sapphire
Jacinth Turquoise
Cairngorm Quartz
Adamantine spar Moonstone
Tourmaline Pearl
Oriental chrysolite Labradorite


SENTIMENTS OF THE MONTHS

JANUARY

_Natal stone_ Garnet.
_Guardian angel_ Gabriel.
_His talismanic gem_ Onyx.
_Special apostle_ Simon Peter.
_His gem_ Jasper.
_Zodiacal sign_ Aquarius.
_Flower_ Snowdrop.

No gems save garnets should be worn
By her who in this month is born;
They will insure her constancy,
True friendship and fidelity.

The gleaming garnet holds within its sway
Faith, constancy, and truth to one alway.


FEBRUARY

_Natal stone_ Amethyst.
_Guardian angel_ Barchiel.
_His talismanic gem_ Jasper.
_Special apostle_ Andrew.
_His gem_ Carbuncle.
_Zodiacal sign_ Pisces.
_Flower_ Primrose.

The February-born may find
Sincerity and peace of mind,
Freedom from passion and from care,
If she an amethyst will wear.

Let her an amethyst but cherish well,
And strife and care can never with her dwell.


MARCH

_Natal stone_ Jasper, bloodstone.
_Guardian Angel_ Malchediel.
_His talismanic gem_ Ruby.
_Special apostles_ James and John.
_Their gem_ Emerald.
_Zodiacal sign_ Aries.
_Flower_ Ipomœa, violet.

Who on this world of ours her eyes
In March first opens may be wise,
In days of peril firm and brave,
Wears she a bloodstone to her grave.

Who wears a jasper, be life short or long,
Will meet all dangers brave and wise and strong.


APRIL

_Natal stone_ Diamond, sapphire.
_Guardian angel_ Ashmodei.
_His talismanic gem_ Topaz.
_Special apostle_ Philip.
_His gem_ Carnelian.
_Zodiacal sign_ Taurus.
_Flower_ Daisy.

She who from April dates her years
Diamonds should wear, lest bitter tears
For vain repentance flow This stone
Emblem of innocence is known.

Innocence, repentance—sun and shower—
The diamond or the sapphire is her dower.


MAY

_Natal stone_ Emerald.
_Guardian angel_ Amriel.
_His talismanic gem_ Carbuncle.
_Special apostle_ Bartholomew.
_His gem_ Chrysolite.
_Zodiacal sign_ Gemini.
_Flower_ Hawthorn.

Who first beholds the light of day
In spring’s sweet flow’ry month of May,
And wears an emerald all her life,
Shall be a loved and happy wife.

No happier wife and mother in the land
Than she with emerald shining on her hand.


JUNE

_Natal stone_ Agate.
_Guardian angel_ Muriel.
_His talismanic gem_ Emerald.
_Special apostle_ Thomas.
_His gem_ Beryl.
_Zodiacal sign_ Cancer.
_Flower_ Honeysuckle.

Who comes with summer to this earth,
And owes to June her hour of birth,
With ring of agate on her hand
Can health, long life, and wealth command.

Thro’ the moss-agate’s charm, the happy years
Ne’er see June’s golden sunshine turn to tears.


JULY

_Natal stone_ Turquoise.
_Guardian angel_ Verchiel.
_His talismanic gem_ Sapphire.
_Special apostle_ Matthew.
_His gem_ Topaz.
_Zodiacal sign_ Leo.
_Flower_ Water-lily.

The heav’n-blue turquoise should adorn
All those who in July are born;
For those they’ll be exempt and free
From love’s doubts and anxiety.

No other gem than turquoise on her breast
Can to the loving, doubting heart bring rest.


AUGUST

_Natal stone_ Carnelian.
_Guardian angel_ Hamatiel.
_His talismanic gem_ Diamond.
_Special apostle_ James, the son of Alpheus.
_His gem_ Sardonyx.
_Zodiacal sign_ Virgo.
_Flower_ Poppy.

Wear a carnelian or for thee
No conjugal felicity;
The August-born without this stone,
’Tis said, must live unloved, alone.

She, loving once and always, wears, if wise,
Carnelian—and her home is paradise.


SEPTEMBER

_Natal stone_ Chrysolite.
_Guardian angel_ Tsuriel.
_His talismanic gem_ Jacinth.
_Special apostle_ Lebbeus Thaddeus.
_His gem_ Chrysoprase.
_Zodiacal sign_ Libra.
_Flower_ Morning-glory.

A maid born when September leaves
Are rustling in the autumn breeze,
A chrysolite on brow should bind—
’Twill cure diseases of the mind.

If chrysolite upon her brow is laid,
Follies and dark delusions flee afraid.


OCTOBER

_Natal stone_ Beryl.
_Guardian angel_ Bariel.
_His talismanic gem_ Agate.
_Special apostle_ Simon. (Zelotes.)
_His gem_ Jacinth.
_Zodiacal sign_ Scorpio.
_Flower_ Hops.

October’s child is born for woe,
And life’s vicissitudes must know;
But lay a beryl on her breast,
And Hope will lull those woes to rest.

When fair October to her brings the beryl,
No longer need she fear misfortune’s peril.


NOVEMBER

_Natal stone_ Topaz.
_Guardian angel_ Adnachiel.
_His talismanic gem_ Amethyst.
_Special apostle_ Matthias.
_His gem_ Amethyst.
_Zodiacal sign_ Sagittarius.
_Flower_ Chrysanthemum.

Who first comes to this world below
With drear November’s fog and snow
Should prize the topaz’s amber hue—
Emblem of friends and lovers true.

Firm friendship is November’s, and she bears
True love beneath the topaz that she wears.


DECEMBER

_Natal stone_ Ruby.
_Guardian angel_ Humiel.
_His talismanic gem_ Beryl.
_Special apostle_ Paul.
_His gem_ Sapphire.
_Zodiacal sign_ Capricornus.
_Flower_ Holly.

If cold December give you birth—
The month of snow and ice and mirth—
Place on your hand a ruby true;
Success will bless whate’er you do.

December gives her fortune, love and fame
If amulet of rubies bear her name.


A HINDU LIST OF GEMS OF THE MONTHS[437]

April Diamond
May Emerald
June Pearl
July Sapphire
August Ruby
September Zircon
October Coral
November Cat’s-eye
December Topaz
January Serpent-stone
February Chandrakanta
March The gold Siva-linga

When the zodiacal signs were engraved on gems to give them special
virtues and render them of greater efficacy for those born under a
given sign, the Hebrew characters designating the sign (or at least the
initial character) were often cut upon the gem. As the letters in which
the earliest of our sacred writings were written, a peculiar sanctity
was often ascribed to these Hebrew characters, which were perhaps the
more highly valued that they were unknown to the owners of the gems,
and hence possessed a certain air of mystery for them. The subjoined
list of the signs with the Hebrew equivalents may be of interest on
this account.


HEBREW NAMES OF THE SIGNS OF THE ZODIAC

Libra מאזנים Moznayim
Scorpio עקרב ‘Akrab
Sagittarius קשׁת Ḳeshet
Capricornus גדי Gedi
Aquarius דלי Deli
Pisces דלים Dagim
Aries טלה Ṭaleh
Taurus שׁור Shor
Gemini תאומים Te’omim
Cancer סריה Sartan
Leo אריה Aryeh
Virgo בתולה Betulah


GEMS OF WEEK DAYS

Sunday: Topaz—diamond.

The bairn that is born
On Sonnan’s sweet day
Is blithe and is bonnie,
Is happy and gay.

Sunday’s talismanic gem: the pearl.


Monday: Pearl—crystal.

The bairn that is born
Of Monan’s sweet race
Is lovely in feature
And fair in the face.

Monday’s talismanic gem: the emerald.


Tuesday: Ruby—emerald.

If Tuisco assists
And at birth keeps apace,
The bairn will be born
With a soul full of grace.

Tuesday’s talismanic gem: the topaz.


Wednesday: Amethyst—loadstone.

But if Woden be there,
Many tears will he sow,
And the bairn will be born
But for sadness and woe.

Wednesday’s talismanic gem: the turquoise.


Thursday: Sapphire—carnelian.

Jove’s presence at birth
Means a long swath to mow,
For if born on Thor’s day
Thou hast far, far to go.

Thursday’s talismanic gem: the sapphire.


Friday: Emerald—cat’s-eye.

If Venus shall bless thee,
Thou shalt bless many living;
For Friga’s bairn truly
Is loving and giving.

Friday’s talismanic gem: the ruby.


Saturday: Turquoise—diamond.

Seater-daeg’s bairn
In sweat shall be striving,
For Saturn has doomed it
To work for a living.

Saturday’s talismanic gem: the amethyst.

No gems have afforded more interest to the Oriental peoples than
those that are known as phenomenal gems; that is, such as exhibit a
phenomenal quality, either as a moving line as in the chrysoberyl
cat’s-eye, or the quartz cat’s-eye, or as a star, a class represented
by the star-sapphire and the star-ruby, all these being considered to
bring good fortune to the wearer. A splendid star-sapphire is in the
hilt of the sword presented as an Easter gift to King Constantine of
Greece, then Prince Constantine, by the Greeks of America, on Easter
Day 1913.[438] This ornate and beautiful sword was made by Tiffany &
Co. Then there is the alexandrite cat’s-eye which, in addition to its
chatoyant effect, changes from green to red, showing its natural color
by day and glowing with a ruddy hue by artificial light. The cat’s-eye
effect here is caused by a twinning of the crystal; that is, when the
gem is cut, with a dome, across the twinning line, this shows itself
as a smooth band of white light, with a translucent or transparent
space at one side, the line varying in sharpness and in breadth as the
illumination becomes more intense. If the light is very bright, the
line is no wider than the thinnest possible silver or platinum wire.

The quartz cat’s-eye, less distinct than the chrysoberyl cat’s-eye,
is also found in the East, and possesses the property that when cut
straight across, an apparent striation in the stone produces the
cat’s-eye effect, but the material is not so rich or brilliant nor is
the gem as beautiful as is the true cat’s-eye. The alexandrite variety
of chrysoberyl is colored by chromium and is dichroitic, appearing
green when viewed in one direction and red in another; in artificial
light, however, the green color is lost and the red alone becomes
apparent.

The moonstone, with its moonlike, silvery-white light, changes on the
surface as the light varies. This is due to a chatoyancy produced by a
reflection caused by certain cleavage planes present in feldspar of the
variety to which the moonstone belongs.

PHENOMENAL GEMS FOR THE DAYS OF THE WEEK

Sunday Sunstone
Monday Moonstone
Tuesday Star sapphire
Wednesday Star ruby
Thursday Cat’s-eye
Friday Alexandrite
Saturday Labradorite

Fashion in some parts of the Orient dictates the use of special colors
for raiment and jewels to be worn on the different days of the week. In
Siam deep red silks and rubies are appropriate for Sunday wear; white
fabrics and moonstones are prescribed for Monday; light red garments
and coral ornaments are favored for Tuesday; striped stuffs and jewels
set with the cat’s-eye are considered the proper wear for Wednesday;
green materials and emeralds are decreed for Thursday; silver-blue
robes and ornaments set with diamonds are chosen for Friday, and on
Saturday those who obey the dictates of fashion are clad in dark blue
garments and wear sapphires of a similar hue.

Our age is not satisfied with the marvellous progress of science, which
has rendered possible the realization of many of the old magicians’
dreams. In spite of this there seems to be a growing tendency to
revive many of the old beliefs which appeared to have been definitely
discarded; therefore we need not be surprised that the nineteenth
century offers us a work on the magic art, written precisely in the
spirit that animated an Agrippa or a Porta in the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries.[439] This work gives elaborate directions as to
the manner in which the “Magus” should proceed to perform his magic
rites.

Each day has its special and peculiar ritual. Sunday is the day for
the “Works of Light,” and on this day a purple robe should be worn
and a tiara and bracelets of gold; the ring placed on the finger of
the operator should be of gold and set with a chrysolite or a ruby.
A white robe with silver stripes is to be worn on Monday, the day of
the “Works of Divination and Mystery,” and the high-priest of the
mysteries wears over his robe a triple necklace of pearls, “crystals,”
and selenites; the tiara should be covered with yellow silk, and
bear in silver characters the Hebrew monogram of Gabriel, as given
by Cornelius Agrippa in his “Occult Philosophy.” Tuesday is assigned
to the “Works of Wrath,” and on this day the robe must be red, the
color of fire and blood, with a belt and bracelets of steel; the tiara
should have a circlet of iron, and a sword or a stylus is to be used
in place of a wand; the ring is set with an amethyst. The day for
the “Works of Science” is Wednesday, when a green robe is worn and
a necklace of hollow glass beads, filled with quicksilver; the ring
is adorned with an agate. On Thursday, appointed for the “Works of
Religion or Politics,” a scarlet robe is worn; upon the forehead of
the operator is bound a plate of tin, engraved with the symbol of the
planet Jupiter and various mystic characters; the ring bears either an
emerald or a sapphire. Friday, the day of Venus, is naturally dedicated
to the “Works of Love,” and the celebrant wears a sky-blue robe; his
ring shows a turquoise, and his tiara is set with lapis-lazuli and
beryl. The “Works of Mourning” belong to Saturday, when a black or a
brown robe is worn, embroidered in orange-colored silk with mystic
characters; from the neck of the operator hangs a leaden medal, bearing
the symbol of the planet Saturn, and on his finger is a ring set with
an onyx, upon which a double-faced Janus has been engraved while
Saturn was in the ascendant.


GEMS OF THE HOURS

HOURS OF THE DAY HOURS OF THE NIGHT

7 Chrysolite 7 Sardonyx
8 Amethyst 8 Chalcedony
9 Kunzite 9 Jade
10 Sapphire 10 Jasper
11 Garnet 11 Loadstone
12 Diamond 12 Onyx
1 Jacinth 1 Morion
2 Emerald 2 Hematite
3 Beryl 3 Malachite
4 Topaz 4 Lapis-lazuli
5 Ruby 5 Turquoise
6 Opal 6 Tourmaline


WEDDING ANNIVERSARIES

1 Paper 19 Hyacinth
2 Calico 20 China
3 Linen 23 Sapphire
4 Silk 25 Silver
5 Wood 26 Star sapphire, blue[440]
6 Candy 30 Pearl
7 Floral 35 Coral
8 Leather 39 Cat’s-eye[440]
9 Straw 40 Ruby
10 Tin 45 Alexandrite
12 Agate 50 Gold
13 Moonstone[440] 52 Star ruby[440]
14 Moss agate 55 Emerald
15 Rock-crystal, glass 60 Diamond, yellow
16 Topaz 65 Star sapphire, gray[440]
17 Amethyst 67 Star sapphire, purple
18 Garnet 75 Diamond

 


X

Planetary and Astral Influences of Precious Stones


The talismanic influence of the stones associated with the planets and
also with the signs of the zodiac is closely connected with the early
ideas regarding the formation of precious stones. In an old work on the
occult properties of gems we read:

The nature of the magnet is in the iron, and the nature of the iron
is in the magnet, and the nature of both polar stars is in both iron
and magnet, and hence the nature of the iron and the magnet is also in
both polar stars, and since they are Martian, that is to say, their
region belongs to Mars, so do both iron and magnet belong to Mars.

The author then proceeds to describe an analogous relation between a
man and any natural object or product to which his imagination draws
him, and shows that, if this object be one that stands in a sympathetic
relation with the star beneath which the man was born, the man, the
star, and the object will constitute a triplicity of great utility. As
an explanation of the peculiarly intimate relation between stars and
precious stones we read, on page 12:

Metals and precious stones usually lie with their first seeds deep
down in the earth and require continuous moisture and a mild heat.
This they obtain through a reflection of the sun and the other stars
in the manifold movement of the heavens…. Therefore, also, the
metals and precious stones are nearest related to the planets and
the stars, since these influence them most potently and produce their
peculiar qualities, for they are enduring and unchangeable and show
therein their concordance [with the stars and the planets].[441]

Hence it is that the influence over human fortunes ascribed by
astrology to the heavenly bodies is conceived to be strengthened by
wearing the gem appropriate to certain planets or signs, for a subtle
emanation has passed into the stone and radiates from it. A combination
of several different stones, each partaking of this special quality,
was believed to have an influence similar to that exercised by several
planets in conjunction,—that is, grouped in the same “house” or
division of the heavens.

The same is true of the stones dedicated to the guardian angels; the
color and appearance of the stone was not merely emblematic of the
angel, but, by its sympathetic quality, it was supposed to attract
his influence and to provide a medium for the transmission of his
beneficent force to the wearer. The whole theory, whether consciously
or unconsciously, rested on the idea of harmony, of the accord of
certain ethereal vibrations, either those of the visible light of the
stars and planets or the purely psychic emanations from the spiritual
“powers and principalities.”

The wearing of the appropriate zodiacal gem was always believed to
strengthen the influence of the zodiacal sign upon those born under
it, and to afford a sympathetic medium for the transmission of the
stellar influences. The gem was thus something more than a mere symbol
of the sign. The same was true of the stone of the saint who ruled the
month and that of the holy guardian angel set over those born in the
month. In each and every case the material form and color of the stone
was believed to attract the favor and grace of the saint or angel, who
would see in the selection of the appropriate gem an act of respect and
veneration on the part of the wearer.

The old writers are never tired of insisting upon the idea that,
while the image graven upon a stone was in itself dead and inactive,
the influence of the stars during whose ascendancy the work had been
executed communicated to the inert material talismanic qualities and
virtues which it before lacked. In these instances the images could
be regarded as outward and visible signs of the planetary or zodiacal
influence. Even in the case of the bezoar stone, a generally recognized
antidote for all sorts of poisons, it was held that the scorpion’s bite
could be most effectually healed by a bezoar upon which this creature’s
figure had been cut during the time when the constellation Scorpio was
in the ascendancy.[442]

In the production of engraved stones to serve as amulets, the influence
of the respective planet was made to enter the stone by casting upon
the latter, during the process of engraving, reflections from a mirror
which had been exposed to the planet’s rays. In addition to this,
the work was executed while the planet was in the ascendant, and the
design was emblematic of it. With these combined influences the gem was
believed to be thoroughly impregnated with the planetary virtue.[443]

An old writer finds in the hardness of precious stones a reason for
their retaining longer the celestial virtues they receive. After they
have been extracted these virtues persist in them and they keep “the
traces and gifts of mundane life which they possessed while clinging
to the earth.”[444] These “gifts of mundane life” signify the stored-up
energy derived from the stars and planets, which penetrates the matter
of the stone, and each stone is peculiarly sensitive to the emanations
from a certain planet, star, or group of stars.

A fine carnelian gem engraved with a design consisting of a star
surrounded by the images of a ram, a bull, and a lion, is described by
M. Mairan.[445] He sees in the star the emblem of the splendid comet
which appeared shortly after the assassination of Cæsar, and which,
according to Suetonius, was believed to be the soul of Cæsar newly
received into the sky; the ram, bull, and lion are the symbols of the
zodiacal signs Aries, Taurus, and Leo, the first-named sign referring
perhaps to the death of Cæsar on the Ides, or fifteenth of March;
while the other two signs may allude to the position of the comet at
different dates.

In the Cabinet du Roi, in Paris, there was an engraved carnelian,
the design showing Jupiter enthroned, with thunderbolt and sceptre,
and Mars and Mercury standing on either side of the central figure.
Separated from the gods of the upper air by a bow, probably
representing the arch of the sky, appears the bust of Neptune, emerging
from the sea. The border of the design is formed by the twelve signs
of the zodiac, Virgo being of an unusual type,—the virgin and a
unicorn,—said to have been used only during the reign of Domitian
(81-96 A.D.).[446]

Some choice examples of astrological gems may be seen in the
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; among these is a green jasper
bearing symbols of Luna, Capricorn, and Taurus. This gem is from the
collection of the late Rev. C. W. King, which has been acquired for the
Museum, and is described as figuring the horoscope of the owner. In
the same collection is a banded agate engraved with Sagittarius as a
centaur, surrounded by the stars of this constellation in their proper
order. King states that this was the earliest horoscopical gem known to
him. Still another gem of this collection is a sard bearing the symbol
of Aries carrying a long caduceus; this type appears on the coins of
Antioch, because that city was founded in the month over which the sign
Aries presides.[447]

The Austrian Imperial Collection in Vienna contains the celebrated
Gemma Augustea, sometimes called the Apotheosis of Augustus. This
commemorates the Pannonian triumph of Tiberius, 13 A.D., and above the
figure of Augustus appears the sign of Capricornus, the constellation
of his nativity; beneath the figure of Tiberius is engraved the sign
of Scorpio, under which that emperor was born. This celebrated cameo,
the work of the famous gem-engraver Dioskorides, is mentioned in an
inventory of the treasury of St. Sernin, in Toulouse, dated 1246. It is
said to have been offered by Francis I of France to Pope Clement VII,
on the occasion of their meeting in Marseilles in 1535; however, as
the gem only reached Marseilles two days after the pope’s departure,
Francis decided to retain possession of it. The royal treasure at
Fontainebleau was plundered in 1590, and the stone was offered for
sale, and was purchased, in 1619, by Emperor Rudolph II, for the sum of
12,000 ducats.

A ruby called sandastros is described by Pliny as containing stellated
bodies which he compares to the Hyades; hence, says he, they are the
objects of great devotion with the Chaldæi or Assyrian Magi. According
to Morales (De las piedras preciosas), the ruby and the diamond were
both under the influence of the sign of Taurus; the same writer informs
us that the Hyades and the sun were supposed to have a potent effect
upon the ruby or carbuncle. In ancient Babylonia the sign of Taurus
was regarded as the most important, and Winckler believes that the
presence in this sign of the five stars of the Hyades and the seven of
the Pleiades was brought into connection with the twelve-fold division
of the zodiac. The Hyades signified the five signs visible in Babylonia
at the summer solstice, while the Pleiades typified the seven invisible
signs. It seems probable that the Pleiades were associated with the
diamond, although Morales, who was very familiar with the Moorish
astrology current among the Spaniards of his time, attributed the
crystal to this group. His attribution proves at least that the stone
of the Pleiades was a colorless one.

In Sanskrit the diamond is called _vajra_, “thunderbolt,” and also
_indrâjudha_, “Indra’s weapon”; another name is _açira_, “fire,” or
“the Sun.”[448] All these designations are probably suggested by the
brilliant flashes of light emitted by this stone. It is not easy to
determine the reason that induced the Hindus to dedicate the diamond
to the planet Venus rather than to the Sun or to the Moon. However, as
the most brilliant of the planets, Venus was not unworthy of the honor,
and if we substitute the Goddess of Love for her planet, it seems
quite appropriate that she should be adorned with the most brilliant
of precious stones. Certainly these sparkling gems are often enough
offered at the shrine of Venus in our own day, and they often serve to
win the good graces of the divinity to whom they are presented.

The Sanskrit name for the sapphire, _nîla_, signifies “blue,” so that,
as the topaz is the “yellow stone” _par excellence_, the sapphire
is the blue stone (_nilaçman_). In both cases the name indicates a
variety of corundum, distinguished merely by the coloring matter. As
a talisman the Hindus believed that the sapphire rendered the planet
Saturn favorable to the wearer, an important consideration from the
astrological point of view, for Saturn’s influence was generally
supposed to be unfavorable. The Hindus distinguished four classes of
sapphires, corresponding to the four castes: Brahmins, Kshatriyas,
Vaisyas, and Sudras. The respective sapphires were light blue, reddish
blue, yellowish blue, and dark blue. The same distinction is made
in the case of the diamond, and a like rule applies to both stones,
namely, that only the appropriate stone should be worn by the members
of each caste, in order to profit by the virtues inherent in the
sapphire or diamond.[449]

One of the Sanskrit appellations of the hyacinth (zircon) is
_râhuratna_,—that is, the jewel dedicated to the mysterious “dragon,”
that was supposed to be the cause of the periodic eclipses of the Sun
and Moon.[450] As the stone was sacred to this malevolent influence,
we need not be surprised that it was believed to avert misfortune, for
nothing was so effective against the lesser spirits of evil as an evil
genius of great power.

According to the Hindu mystics it was very lucky to have a turquoise
at hand at the time of the new moon, for whoever, after first looking
at the moon on the _pratipada_ (the first day after new-moon), should
cast his eyes upon a turquoise, was destined to enjoy immeasurable
wealth.[451]


ZODIACAL GEMS

Aquarius.
January 21 to February 21.
The Garnet.
If you would cherish friendship true,
In Aquarius well you’ll do
To wear this gem of warmest hue—
The garnet.

Pisces.
February 21 to March 21.
The Amethyst.
From passion and from care kept free
Shall Pisces’ children ever be
Who wear so all the world may see
The amethyst.

Aries.
March 21 to April 20.
The Bloodstone.
Who on this world of ours his eyes
In Aries opens shall be wise
If always on his hand there lies
A bloodstone.

Taurus.
April 20 to May 21.
The Sapphire.
If on your hand this stone you bind,
You in Taurus born will find
’Twill cure diseases of the mind,
The sapphire.

Gemini.
May 21 to June 21.
The Agate.
Gemini’s children health and wealth command,
And all the ills of age withstand,
Who wear their rings on either hand
Of agate.

Cancer.
June 21 to July 22.
The Emerald.
If born in Cancer’s sign, they say,
Your life will joyful be alway,
If you take with you on your way
An emerald.

Leo.
July 22 to August 22.
The Onyx.
When youth to manhood shall have grown,
Under Leo lorn and lone
’Twill have lived but for this stone,
The onyx.

Virgo.
August 22 to September 22.
The Carnelian.
Success will bless whate’er you do,
Through Virgo’s sign, if only you
Place on your hand her own gem true,
Carnelian.

Libra.
September 22 to October 23.
The Chrysolite.
Through Libra’s sign it is quite well
To free yourself from evil spell,
For in her gem surcease doth dwell,
The chrysolite.

Scorpio.
October 23 to November 21.
The Beryl.
Through Scorpio this gem so fair
Is that which every one should wear,
Or tears of sad repentance bear,—
The beryl.

Sagittarius.
November 21 to December 21.
The Topaz.
Who first comes to this world below
Under Sagittarius should know
That their true gem should ever show
A topaz.

Capricorn.
December 21 to January 21.
The Ruby.
Those who live in Capricorn
No trouble shall their brows adorn
If they this glowing gem have worn,
The ruby.

An old Spanish list of the gems of the zodiacal signs differs from
those given above, and probably represents Arab tradition:[452]

Aries—Crystal
Taurus—Ruby and diamond
Gemini—Sapphire
Cancer—Agate and beryl
Leo—Topaz
Virgo—Magnet
Libra—Jasper
Scorpio—Garnet
Sagittarius—Emerald
Capricorn—Chalcedony
Aquarius—Amethyst
Pisces—

Of planetary stones[453] there is assigned to the sun the jacinth
and the chrysolite, when this latter name was applied to the
yellow Brazilian chrysoberyl, while the moon controls the beryl,
the rock-crystal and also the pearl. To the share of Venus fall the
sapphire and carbuncle as well as coral and pearl; usually the emerald
is the stone of Venus. Mars lays claim to the diamond, jacinth, and
ruby, the last-named stone according with the ruddy hue of our neighbor
planet. Under the control of Jupiter are placed the emerald, sapphire,
amethyst, and turquoise, so that this planet has the richest assortment
of gems; it will be remarked that the celestial sapphire unites
the influence of Venus and Jupiter, the two especially propitious
planets. Lastly, far-away Saturn must be content with all dark, black,
and brittle stones; there was, indeed, little inducement to wear a
Saturnian stone, for the influence of this cold and distant planet was
always regarded as baleful.

The planetary controls of precious stones as given in the Lapidario of
Alfonso X, according to “Chaldaic” tradition, show that the same stone
was influenced in many or most cases by more than one of the “seven
planets” (including the Sun and Moon). Thus the diamond, belonging to
the first degree of the sign Taurus, was dominated by both Saturn and
the Sun; the emerald was controlled by Jupiter, and also by Mercury and
by Venus. The red jargoon was influenced by Mars, the yellow variety
by Jupiter and the white jargoon by Venus. The carnelian received
virtue from the Sun and from Venus. The ruby, although more especially
a sunstone, came as well under the influence of the Planet of Love.
Coral belonged both to Venus and to the moon, while lapis-lazuli and
chalcedony only owed allegiance to Venus; this planet also lent virtue
to the beryl.[454]

Among the Mohammedans, six of the seven heavens were supposed to be
made of precious substances: the first was of emerald; the second, of
white silver; the third, of large white pearls; the fourth, of ruby;
the fifth, of red gold; and the sixth, of jacinth. The seventh and
highest heaven, however, was of shining light.[455] Here we have the
three precious colored stones, emerald, ruby, and sapphire (jacinth),
to which is added the pearl.

The scarcity of the diamond in early times, and its comparative lack of
brilliancy before the invention of rose and brilliant cutting, account
for the absence of this king of gems.

Rabelais,[456] describing the temple of the oracle of the “Dive
Bouteille,” says that of its seven columns the first was of sapphire;
the second, of jacinth; the third, of “dyamant”; the fourth, of
the “male” balas-ruby; the fifth, of emerald, “more brilliant and
glistening than were those which were set in place of eyes in the
marble lion stretched before the tomb of King Hermias”; the sixth
column was of agate, and the seventh of transparent selenite, “with a
splendor like that of Hymettian honey, and within appeared the moon in
form and motion such as she is in the heavens, full and new, waxing
and waning.” We are then told that these stones were attributed to the
seven planets by the Chaldæans, as follows:

Sapphire Saturn
Jacinth Jupiter
Diamond Sun
Ruby Mars
Emerald Venus
Agate Mercury
Selenite Moon

Some of these attributions differ from those usually made and may
represent another tradition.


PLANETARY INFLUENCES OF STONES[457]

Jasper Venus and Mercury.
Sapphire Jupiter and Mercury.
Emerald Venus and Mercury.
Chalcedony Jupiter, Mercury, and Saturn.
Sardonyx Saturn and Mars.
Chrysolite Mercury and Venus.
Beryl Venus and Mars.
Topaz Saturn and Mars.
Chrysoprase Mercury and Venus.
Jacinth Mars and Jupiter.
Amethyst Mars and Jupiter.
Pearl Venus and Mercury.
Carbuncle Mars and Venus.
Diamond Jupiter.
Agate Venus and Mars.
Alectoria Sun.
Turquoise Venus and Mercury.
Chelidon Jupiter.
Ætites Sun.
Dionesia Saturn.
Hematite Mercury.
Lapis-lazuli Venus.
Armena Mercury and Venus.
Garnet Sun.
Amber Sun.
Jet Saturn.
Lyncurius Sun.
Crystal Moon and Mars.
Bezoar Jupiter.
Armenia Jupiter.
Selenite Moon.
Magnet Mars.
Judaica, }
Hegolite or } Mercury.
Cogolite }
Iris Jupiter.
Halcyon Saturn and Mars.
Asbestus Saturn.
Sarcophagus Moon.
Arabian, white Moon.
Arabian, green Jupiter.
Hyena Sun.
Androdamas Moon.
Pyrites:
Copper-colored Sun, Venus.
Gold-colored Sun.
Silver-colored Moon.
Tin-colored Moon, Saturn.
Ash-colored Jupiter.
Calatia Moon.
Stalactite Venus.
Thenarcus Sun.
Carnelian Jupiter, Mars, Venus.
Opal Sun, Mercury.

Fixed stars associated with precious stones:[458]

Diamond. Caput Algol 18° of Taurus.
Crystal. The Pleiades 24° of Taurus.
Ruby, carbuncle. Aldebaran 3° of Gemini; also the Hyades.
Sapphire. The Goat 15° of Gemini.
Beryl. Sirius 10° of Cancer.
Garnet. Heart of Lion 23° of Leo.
Magnet. Tail of the Great Bear 8° of Scorpio; also the Pole Star.
Topaz. Right and left wing of Raven 8° of Libra.
Emerald and Jasper. Spica Virginis 17° of Libra.
Amethyst. Scorpion 3° of Sagittarius.
Chrysolite. Tortoise 8° of Capricorn.
Chalcedony. Tail of Capricorn 15° of Aquarius.
Jacinth. Shoulder of Equis Major 18° of Pisces.
Pearl. Umbilicus Andromedæ 20° of Aries.
Sardonyx. Same as Topaz.

Images and virtues of the constellations as engraved on gems:[459]

URSA MAJOR, URSA MINOR, AND DRACO. Both bears are represented in the
folds of a serpent, the Great Bear in the upper and the Lesser Bear in
the lower folds. In almost all the signs. Nature: Ursa Major, Mars and
Venus. Ursa Minor: Saturn. Draco: Saturn and Mars. Renders the wearer
wise, cautious, versatile, and powerful.

The boundary lines of the various signs are carried up to the pole,
and any constellation that is within these lines is considered to
belong to the respective sign; thus, every constellation belongs to
one or more signs.

CORONA BOREALIS. A royal crown, with many stars; sometimes the crowned
head of a king. Sign: Sagittarius. Nature: Venus and Mercury. Engraved
on the stone of one who is fitted for honors and knowledge, it gives
him great favor with kings.

HERCULES. A man with knees bent, holding a club in his hand and
killing a lion; sometimes a man with a lion’s skin in his hand or on
his shoulder and holding a club. Sign: Scorpio. Nature: Venus and
Mercury. Engraved on a stone that brings victory, like the agate, it
renders the wearer victorious in all conflicts in the field.

CYGNUS. A swan with outstretched wings and curved neck. In the North.
Nature: Venus and Mercury. Renders the wearer popular, increases
knowledge, and augments wealth. Cures gout, paralysis, and fever.

CEPHEUS. A man girt with a sword and holding his hands and arms
extended. Sign: Aries. Nature: Saturn and Jupiter. Causes pleasant
visions if placed beneath the head of a sleeping person.

CASSIOPEIA. A woman seated in a chair and with hands extended in the
form of a cross; sometimes with a triangle on her head. Sign: Taurus.
Nature: Saturn and Venus. Restores the sickly, worn body to health,
gives quiet and calm after labor and procures pleasant and tranquil
sleep.

ANDROMEDA. A young girl with dishevelled hair, and hands hanging down.
Sign: Taurus. Nature: Venus. Reconciles husband and wife, strengthens
love, and protects the human body from many diseases.

PERSEUS. A man holding a sword in his right hand and the Gorgon’s head
in his left. Sign: Taurus. Nature: Saturn and Venus. Guards the wearer
from misfortune and protects, not only the wearer but the place where
it may be, from lightning and tempest. Dissolves enchantments.

SERPENS. A man in the folds of a serpent and holding its head in his
right hand and its tail in his left. Sign: Taurus. Nature: Saturn and
Venus. Antidote to poisons and to the bites of venomous creatures.

AQUILA. A flying eagle with an arrow beneath his feet. Sign: Cancer.
Nature: Jupiter and Mercury; the arrow, however, is of Mars and Venus.
Preserves former honors, adds new ones, and helps to victory.

PISCES or DELPHINUS. Figured in relief (?) Sign: Aquarius. Nature:
Saturn and Mars. If this engraved gem be attached to nets it causes
them to be filled with fish, and it renders the wearer fortunate in
fishing.

PEGASUS. Some represent the half of a winged horse; others the whole
figure and without a bridle. Sign: Aries. Nature: Mars and Jupiter.
Gives victory in the field, and makes the wearer swift, cautious, and
bold.

CETUS. Figure of a large fish with curved tail and capacious gullet.
Sign: Taurus. Nature: Saturn. Renders the wearer fortunate on the sea
and makes him prudent and agreeable. It also restores lost articles.

ORION. With or without armor, man holding a sword or a scythe in his
hand. Sign: Gemini. Nature: Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars. Gives the
wearer victory over his enemies.

NAVIS. A ship with prow curved back and spread sails; sometimes with
and sometimes without oars. Sign: Leo. Nature: Saturn and Jupiter.
Renders the wearer fortunate in his undertakings; he runs no risk on
sea or water, neither can he be injured by water.

CANIS MAJOR. Figure of a dog for coursing hares, with a curved tail.
Sign: Cancer. Nature: Venus. Cures lunacy, insanity, and demoniacal
possession.

LEPUS. Figure of a hare with ears pricked up and the feet represented
as though in swift motion. Sign: Gemini. Nature: Saturn and Mercury.
Cures frenzy and protects from the wiles of demons. The wearer cannot
be hurt by a malignant spirit.

CENTAUR. Half-figure of a bull, bearing a man on whose left shoulder
rests a lance, from which depends a hare. In his right hand the man
holds a small, supine animal with a vessel attached to it. Sign:
Libra. Nature: Jupiter and Mars. Gives constancy and perpetual health.

CANIS MINOR. Figure of a dog, sitting. Sign: Cancer. Nature: Jupiter.
Guards from dropsy, pestilence, and the bites of dogs.

SACRARIUS TURUBULUS (ARA). An altar with burning incense. Sign:
Sagittarius. Nature: Venus and Mercury. Gives the wearer power to
recognize spirits, to converse with them, and to command them; also
confers chastity.

HYDRA. A serpent, having an urn at its head and a raven at its tail.
Sign: Cancer. Nature: Saturn and Venus. Gives riches and all good
gifts to the wearer and makes him cautious and prudent.

CORONA AUSTRALIS. An imperial crown. Sign: Libra. Nature: Saturn and
Mars. Augments wealth and makes the wearer gay and happy.

AURIGA. A man in a chariot, bearing a goat on his left shoulder. Sign:
Gemini. Nature: Mercury. Makes the wearer successful in hunting.

VEXILLUM. A flag flying from the extremity of a lance. Sign: Scorpion.
Gives skill in war and confers victory in the field.


FIGURES OF THE PLANETS

SATURN. An old man holding a curved scythe in his hand and with
a not very heavy beard. Engraved on a stone of the
nature of Saturn, it renders the wearer powerful and
augments his power continually.

JUPITER. A seated figure, sometimes in a chariot, holding a staff
in one hand and a spear in the other. It renders the wearer
fortunate, especially if engraved on a Kabratis stone,
and he easily gains what he wishes, especially from
priests. He will be raised to honors and dignities.

MARS. Represented sometimes with a banner and sometimes
with a lance or other weapon. He is, indeed, always
armed and at times mounted on a horse. Gives victory,
boldness in war, and success in everything, especially if
engraved on an appropriate stone.

SUN. Sometimes as the solar disk with rays, sometimes as a man
in a chariot, and this occasionally is surrounded by the
signs of the zodiac. Renders the wearer powerful and a
victor; this gem is prized by hunters.

VENUS. Many forms, among them that of a woman with a voluminous
dress and a stole, holding a laurel in her hand. Gives
skill in handling affairs and usually brings them to a
successful issue; removes the fear of drowning.

MERCURY. Figure of a slender man, usually with a beautiful beard,
but sometimes without. He has winged feet and holds the
caduceus. Increases knowledge and confers eloquence. It
aids merchants, enabling them to acquire wealth.

MOON. Various forms. Sometimes as a crescent, sometimes as a
young woman in a chariot and holding a quiver, and at
others as a woman with a quiver and following the chase
with dogs. Aids the fortunes of those who are sent on an
embassy, and enables them to acquire wealth and honor
thereby. Is said to confer speed and facility in
undertakings and a happy issue.[460]

When Hudibras attacked and overcame the sorcerer Sidrophal, he rifled
the latter’s pockets of all his mystic treasures. Among these were

Several constellation stones,
Engraved in planetary hours,
That over mortals had strange powers,
To make them thrive in law or trade,
And stab or poison to evade,
In wit and wisdom to improve,
And be victorious in love.[461]

These manifold influences exerted by the stars and planets through
the medium of the gems, not only concerned those actually present
in a material form, but also those that were seen in dreams, and
interpretations of such dreams are given by old writers.

Many Oneirocritica, or “dream-books,” were written or compiled in the
early centuries of our era, one of the most noted being the work of
Artemidorus, who flourished in the second century A.D. Every object
seen in a dream was given a special meaning, and it is interesting to
note that Artemidorus believed dreams of rings or other ornaments,
as well as of precious stones, to be of favorable significance only
for women. Such dreams indicated marriage for unmarried women, and
the birth of children for those already married. If a woman was
both wife and mother when she saw sparkling jewels in her dream, then
the vision portended the acquisition of great wealth. Artemidorus
here sagely remarks that women are by nature devoted to riches and
passionately fond of ornaments. For men, on the other hand, to dream of
jewels was an ill omen; probably because it foreshadowed the necessity
of buying them for a good friend or a faithful wife.[462]

Another of these dream-books, probably composed in the eighth century
A.D., appears under the name of Achametis and is of Arabic origin. Many
of the interpretations in this book are referred to a Hindu source,
and among these are visions of crowns that appear to kings. Such a
dream, in itself, usually portended increased power and success for
the sovereign, but this depended upon the color and character of the
jewels which adorned the crown. For example, we read that if the gems
were red and of the kind known as lychnites (carbuncles or rubies), the
dream indicated that the king would have great joy and good fortune and
would be more feared by his enemies than before; but if he saw blue
gems in the crown, it was a bad omen, foreshadowing the loss of part
of his kingdom. If the stones were of a light green hue (the color of
the leek), the king would gain a great name in the world, both by his
good faith and by the greatness of his kingdom; for, the writer adds,
“this color in precious stones is universally accepted as signifying
good-faith and religious devotion to God.”[463]

There is signified by dreaming of

Agates A journey.
Amber A voyage
Amethysts Freedom from harm.
Aquamarines New friends.
Beryls Happiness in store.
Bloodstones Distressing news.
Carbuncles Acquirement of wisdom.
Carnelians Impending misfortune.
Cat’s-eyes Treachery.
Chalcedony Friends rejoined.
Chrysoberyls A time of need.
Chrysolites Necessary caution.
Coral Recovery from illness.
Crystal Freedom from enemies.
Diamonds Victory over enemies.
Emeralds Much to look forward to.
Garnets The solution of a mystery.
Heliotropes Long life.
Hyacinths A heavy storm.
Jacinths Success.
Jasper Love returned.
Jet Sorrow.
Lapis-lazuli Faithful love.
Moonstones Impending danger.
Moss-agates An unsuccessful journey.
Onyx A happy marriage.
Opals Great possessions.
Pearls Faithful friends.
Porphyry Death.
Rubies Unexpected guests.
Sapphires Escape from danger.
Sardonyx Love of friends.
Topaz No harm shall befall.
Tourmalines An accident.
Turquoises Prosperity.

If precious stones be so combined in a ring, or other jewel that the
initial letters of their names spell words significant of a tender
sentiment or implying good fortune, or else the name of someone dear
to the giver of the jewel, this is also supposed to strengthen their
astral or planetary influence and to render them more potent charms.
In the following examples the gems in the first column are the more
expensive, those in the second column being comparatively inexpensive
ones.


ACROSTICS FORMED WITH STONES

In France and England, during the 18th century, rings, bracelets,
brooches, etc., were often set with gems the first letters of which,
combined, formed a motto or expressed a sentiment. The following is
a list of those that may be used in this way. The choice of stones
afforded here brings these pretty devices within the reach of all.


FAITH

Fire-opal. Feldspar.
Alexandrite. Amethyst.
Iolite. Idocrase.
Tourmaline. Topaz.
Hyacinth. Heliotrope.


HOPE

Hyacinth. Hematite.
Opal. Olivine.
Pearl. Pyrope.
Emerald. Essonite.


CHARITY

Cat’s-eye. Carbuncle.
Hyacinth. Hematite.
Aquamarine. Amethyst.
Ruby. Rose quartz.
Iolite. Idocrase.
Tourmaline. Topaz.
Yellow sapphire. Yu (Jade).


GOOD LUCK

Golden beryl. Garnet.
Opal. Onyx.
Olivine. Obsidian.
Diamond. Dendrite.

Lapis-lazuli. Labradorite.
Uralian emerald. Unio pearl.
Cat’s-eye. Carnelian.
Kunzite. Krokidolite.


FOREVER

Fire-opal. Flèches d’amour.
Opal. Onyx.
Ruby. Rutile.
Emerald. Essonite.
Vermeille. Verd antique.
Essonite. Epidote.
Rubellite. Rose quartz.


REGARD

Ruby. Rubellite.
Emerald. Essonite.
Garnet. Garnet.
Alexandrite. Amethyst.
Ruby. Rock-crystal.
Diamond. Demantoid.


_ZES_

Greek, meaning “Mayest thou live.”

Zircon. Zonochlorite.
Emerald. Essonite.
Sapphire. Sard.


MIZPAH

Moonstone. Moldavite.
Indicolite. Idocrase.
Zircon. Zonochlorite.
Peridot. Pyrope.
Asteria. Aquamarine.
Hyacinth. Hematite.


FRIENDSHIP

Flèches d’amour. Feldspar.
Ruby. Rock crystal.
Indicolite. Idocrase.
Emerald. Epidote.
Nephrite. Nicolo.
Diamond. Diopside.
Sapphire. Sard.
Hyacinth. Hematite.
Iolite. Idocrase.
Pearl. Pyrite.


DEAREST

Diamond. Demantoid.
Emerald. Essonite.
Alexandrite. Amethyst.
Ruby. Rubellite.
Essonite. Epidote.
Sapphire. Spinel.
Turquoise. Topaz.


SOUVENIR

Sapphire. Sunstone.
Opal. Onyx.
Uralian emerald. Utahlite.
Vermeille. Verd antique.
Emerald. Epidote.
Nephrite. Nephrite.
Iolite. Indicolite.
Ruby. Rock-crystal.


BONHEUR

Beryl. Bloodstone.
Opal. Onyx.
Nephrite. Nephrite.
Hyacinth. Hematite.
Emerald. Essonite.
Uralian emerald. Utahlite.
Ruby. Rhodonite.


AMITIÉ

Alexandrite. Almandine.
Moonstone. Moonstone.
Indicolite. Indicolite.
Tourmaline. Topaz.
Idocrase. Idocrase.
Emerald. Essonite.


LOVE ME

Lapis-lazuli. Labrador spar.
Opal. Onyx.
Vermeille. Verd antique.
Emerald. Essonite.

Moonstone. Moonstone.
Essonite. Epidote.


_AEI_

Greek, meaning “forever,” “eternity.”

Alexandrite. Almandine.
Emerald. Essonite.
Indicolite. Idocrase.

An attractive engagement ring can be formed of a central diamond from
which extend the rays of a five-pointed star. Between the rays are set
the stones emblematic of the zodiacal sign, of the guardian angel of
the month, of the planet control of the hour and also the two stones
indicating the initial letter of the two Christian names. This ring is
in the form of the mystic Pentagon, the grand symbol of constancy and
durability, since the number five is composed of three, which signifies
creative power, and two, which typifies the balance, that is, stability.

As, according to the old fancy, the influences due to the light
emanations from the planets or fixed stars, or from the combination
of the stars in a zodiacal sign, would have a peculiar and more or
less intimate connection with the fate of one country rather than of
another, an attempt is here made to give a characteristic stone for
each country. In the case of the United States the various gem-stones
found within the boundaries of each of the States of the Union are
given. That this special influence was exceptionally potent in regard
to those born in the countries in question was also taught and hence a
national gem would have a greater talismanic power than any other for
the natives of each separate country. For those who may feel a certain
degree of sympathy for time-honored fancies, and who may perhaps
also have a trace of superstition hidden away in some part of their
consciousness, one of our State gems would have a similar significance.


GEMS OF COUNTRIES

Alaska Garnet
Algiers Coral
Arabia Pearl
Austria-Hungary Opal
Belgium Crystal
Bohemia Garnet
Bokhara Lapis-lazuli
Bolivia Lapis-lazuli
Brazil Tourmaline (Brazilian emerald)
Burma Ruby
Canada Sodalite
Ceylon Cat’s-eye
Chili Lapis-lazuli
China Jade
Congo Dioptase
Denmark Agate
Egypt Peridot
England Diamond
France Pearl
Germany Amber
German West Africa Diamond
Greece Sapphire
Holland Diamond
Hungary Opal
India Pearl
Ireland Precious serpentine (Connemara)
Italy Coral
Japan Rock-crystal
Korea Abalone pearl
Madagascar Morganite
Mexico Obsidian
Morocco Coral
New England Tourmaline
New South Wales Opal
New Zealand Jade
Norway-Sweden Carnelian
Panama Agate
Persia Turquoise
Peru Emerald
Philippines Pearl
Portugal Chrysoberyl
Roumania Amber
Russia Rhodonite
Sandwich Islands Olivine
Scotland Cairngorm (smoky quartz)
Servia Coral
Siam Ruby
Sicily Amber
South Africa Diamond
Spain Emerald
Switzerland Rock-crystal
Turkestan Jade
Turkey Turquoise
United States Sapphire
Uruguay Amethyst


UNITED STATES STONES

Precious, semi-precious, or gem stones are found in nearly every State
of the Union. The most important are enumerated below:

_Alabama_ Beryl, blue and yellow; smoky quartz.
_Arizona_ Agatized wood, azur-malachite, turquoise, garnet,
peridot.
_Arkansas_ Rock-crystal, smoky quartz, agate, diamond,
novaculite.
_California_ Agate, benitoite, californite, diamond, gold
quartz, tourmaline, abalone pearl, chrysoprase,
kunzite, morganite.
_Colorado_ Beryl, aquamarine, phenacite, garnet, amethyst,
agate, gold quartz, pyrite.
_Connecticut_ Beryl, yellow and green; rose quartz, tourmaline
_Delaware_ Pearl.
_Florida_ Chalcedony, conch pearl.
_Georgia_ Ruby, beryl, amethyst, gold quartz, garnet.
_Idaho_ Opal, agate, obsidian.
_Illinois_ Fluorite, pearl.
_Indian Territory_ Obsidian, pearl.
_Indiana_ Pearl.
_Iowa_ Fossil coral, pearl, chalcedony.
_Kansas_ Chalcedony.
_Kentucky_ Pearl.
_Louisiana_ Chalcedony.
_Maine_ Tourmaline, beryl, rose quartz, pearl, topaz,
amazonite, smoky quartz, rock-crystal.
_Maryland_ Beryl, clam-pearl.
_Massachusetts_ Beryl.
_Michigan_ Agate, hematite.
_Minnesota_ Chlorastrolite, thomsonite, agate.
_Mississippi_ Pearl, chalcedony.
_Missouri_ Pearl, fluorite, pyrite.
_Montana_ Sapphire, beryl, smoky quartz, agate, amethyst,
agatized wood, obsidian.
_Nebraska_ Chalcedony, pearl.
_Nevada_ Gold quartz, rock-crystal.
_New Hampshire_ Beryl, rock-crystal, garnet.
_New Jersey_ Fowlerite, willemite, prehnite, smoky quartz,
agate, pearl.
_New Mexico_ Turquoise, garnet, obsidian, peridot, rock-crystal.
_New York_ Beryl, brown tourmaline, rose quartz, fresh-water
pearl, clam-pearl, chondrodite.
_North Carolina_ Aquamarine, beryl, emerald, almandite garnet,
rhodolite, prope garnet, diamond, cyanite,
hiddenite, amethyst, ruby, sapphire, smoky quartz,
rock-crystal, rutile.
_North Dakota_ Chalcedony, agate.
_Ohio_ Fossil coral, chalcedony.
_Oregon_ Agate, obsidian, hydrolite.
_Pennsylvania_ Amethyst, beryl, sunstone, moonstone, amazonite,
almandite garnet, pyrope garnet, rutile.
_Rhode Island_ Hornblende in quartz, amethyst, rock-crystal.
_South Carolina_ Beryl, smoky quartz, rock-crystal.
_South Dakota_ Quartzite, beryl, agate.
_Tennessee_ Pearl.
_Texas_ Beryl, pearl, tourmaline.
_Utah_ Topaz, garnet.
_Virginia_ Amethyst, spessarite, garnet, beryl, moonstone,
staurolite, allanite.
_Vermont_ Beryl, pearl.
_Washington_ Pearl, agate.
_West Virginia_ Rock-crystal.
_Wisconsin_ Agate, pearl.
_Wyoming_ Moss-agate, agate.

 


XI

On the Therapeutic Use of Precious and Semi-Precious Stones


The medicinal use of precious stones may be traced back to very ancient
times. It has been conjectured that their employment for such purposes
was introduced to Europe from India, whence many of the stones were
derived. Nevertheless, the earliest evidence we have rather points to
Egypt as the source, and, indeed, it appears that in early Egyptian
times the chemical constituents of the stones were much more rationally
considered than at a later period in Europe. The Ebers Papyrus,
for instance, recommends the use of certain astringent substances,
such as lapis-lazuli, as ingredients of eye-salves, and hematite,
an iron oxide, was used for checking hemorrhages and for reducing
inflammations. Little by little, however, superstition associated
certain special virtues with the color and quality of precious stones,
and their virtues were thought to be greatly enhanced by engraving on
them the image of some god, or of some object symbolizing certain of
the activities of nature. Later still, the science of astrology, most
highly developed in Assyria and Babylonia, was brought into combination
with the various superstitions above indicated, so that the image was
believed to have much greater efficacy if the engraving were executed
when the sun was in a certain constellation or when the moon or some
one of the planets was in the ascendant at the time.

If we exclude certain fragmentary notices in Egyptian
literature—notably the statements in the Ebers Papyrus—and the very
uncertain sources in Hindu literature, the earliest authority for
this branch of the subject is the Natural History of Pliny. In this
connection, however, it is only just to call attention to a fact which
has been often ignored—namely, that Pliny himself had very little
faith in the teachings of the “magi,” as he calls them, in regard to
the superstitious use of gems for the prevention or cure of diseases;
indeed, he seems to have been almost as sceptical in his attitude as
many modern writers, for certain quite recent authorities still credit
amber and a few other mineral substances with therapeutic effects other
than those which can be explained by the known action of their chemical
constituents. Still, Pliny yielded so far to the taste of his time as
to preserve for us many of the statements of earlier writers on the
subject, naming them in most cases and so enabling us to form some idea
of the character of this pseudo-science in the Roman world in the first
century of our era. With the gradual decay of ancient learning, the
less valuable elements of popular belief came more and more into the
foreground, and the old superstitions were freely copied by successive
authors, each of whom felt called upon to add something new on his own
account. This explains much of the confusion that reigns in regard
to the attribution of special virtues to the different stones, for
the wider the reading of the author the greater became the number of
virtues attributed to each separate stone, until, at last, we might
almost say that each and every precious stone could be used for the
cure of all diseases. Nevertheless, it is comparatively easy to see
that either the color or constitution of the stone originally indicated
its use for this or that disease.

A distinction is often made between the talismanic qualities of
precious stones for the cure or prevention of disease and the properly
medicinal use of them as mineral substances. In the former case the
effect was attained by merely wearing them on the person, while in the
latter case they were reduced to a powder, which was dissolved as far
as possible in water or some other liquid and then taken internally.
As, however, the end to be attained is the same whether the stone be
worn or taken internally as a powder or liquid, it seems more logical
to treat of both these methods of therapeutic use together, reserving
for the chapter on the talismanic use of gems only their employment
to avert misfortunes other than those caused by disease, and their
influence in the procuring of wealth, honors, and happiness for their
wearers.

The belief in the curative properties of precious stones was at one
time universal among all those to whom gems were known. When we read
to-day of the various ills that were supposed to be cured by the use of
these gems, we find it difficult to understand what process of thought
could have suggested the idea of employing such ineffectual remedies.
It is true that the constituents of certain stones can be absorbed by
the human body and have a definite effect upon it, but the greater part
of the elements are so combined that they cannot be assimilated, and
they pass through the system without producing any apparent effect.

In ancient and medieval times, however, other than chemical agencies
were supposed to be efficient in the cure of diseases, and the
primitive animistic conception of the cause of illness, and hence of
the therapeutics of disease, long held sway among those who practised
the medical art. Remedies were prized because of their rarity, and also
because it was believed that certain spiritual or planetary influences
had aided in their production and were latent in them. Besides this,
the symbolism of color played a very important part in recommending
the use of particular stones for special diseases. This may be noted
in the case of the red or reddish stones, such as the ruby, spinel,
garnet, carnelian, bloodstone, etc. These were thought to be sovereign
remedies for hemorrhages of all kinds, as well as for all inflammatory
diseases; they were also believed to exercise a calming influence and
to remove anger and discord. The red hue of these stones was supposed
to indicate their fitness for such use, upon the principle _similia
similibus curantur_. In the same way yellow stones were prescribed for
the cure of bilious disorders, for jaundice in all its forms and for
other diseases of the liver.

The use of green stones to relieve diseases of the eye was evidently
suggested by the beneficial influence exerted by this color upon the
sight. The verdant emerald represented the beautiful green fields, upon
which the tired eye rests so willingly, and which exert such a soothing
influence upon the sight when it has been unduly strained or fatigued.
One of the earliest, probably the very earliest reference in Greek
writings to the therapeutic value of gems, appears in the works of
Theophrastus, who wrote in the third century before Christ. Here we are
told of the beneficial effect exercised by the emerald upon the eyes.

The sapphire, the lapis-lazuli, and other blue stones, with a hue
resembling the blue of the heavens, were believed to exert a tonic
influence, and were supposed to counteract the wiles of the spirits
of darkness and procure the aid and favor of the spirits of light and
wisdom. These gems were usually looked upon as emblems of chastity,
and for this reason the sapphire came to be regarded as especially
appropriate for use in ecclesiastical rings. Among purple stones,
the amethyst is particularly noteworthy. The well-known belief that
this gem counteracted the effects of undue indulgence in intoxicating
beverages is indicated by its name, derived from μεθύω—“to be
intoxicated,” and the privative α, the name thus signifying the
“sobering” gem. It is not unlikely that a fancied resemblance between
the prevailing hue of these stones and that of certain kinds of wine
first gave rise to the name and to the idea of the peculiar virtues of
the amethyst.

We have mentioned only a few of the more obvious analogies suggested
by the color of gems, and we might be tempted to cite many others were
it not that symbolism is always treacherous ground, since there is
practically no limit to the correspondences that may be found between
sensuous impressions and ideas.

One great difficulty which besets any one who is trying to find a clue
to guide him through the labyrinth of the medical affinities of gems is
the fact that there was, from an early period, a tendency to attribute
the virtues of one gem to another, probably owing to the commercial
instinct which urged the dealer to praise his wares in every possible
way, so that no part of his stock should fail to find a purchaser. This
tendency is especially marked in the old Hindu Lapidaries, wherein
it is almost impossible to find any differentiation of the stones in
respect to their curative or talismanic virtues. Only the condition and
perfection of the gems are made the criterion of their worth. Any given
stone, if perfect, was a source of all blessings to the wearer and
possessed all remedial powers, while a defective stone, or one lacking
the proper lustre or color, was destined to be a source of untold
misfortune to the owner.

The European writers on the medical properties of precious stones were
influenced by quite different considerations; their chief aim was to
represent each stone, regarded simply as a mineral substance, as being
the abode of the greatest possible number of curative properties.
Indeed, many of the most highly recommended electuaries contained all
kinds of stones, as though the effect to be produced did not depend
upon the qualities of any single stone, or class of stones, but rather
upon the quantity used. In Arnobio’s “Tesoro delle Gioie,”[464] we have
a receipt for the composition of “the most noble electuary of jacinth.”
This contains jacinth, emerald, sapphire, topaz, garnet, pearl, ruby,
white and red coral, and amber, as well as many animal and vegetable
substances, in all, thirty-four ingredients. It would indeed seem that
a good dose of such a mixture should have provided a cure for “all
the ills that flesh is heir to,” by the simple and effective means of
removing the unhappy patient to a better world.

Treating of the metallic affinities of precious stones, Paracelsus
(1493-1541) affirmed that the emerald was a copper stone; the carbuncle
and the jasper were golden stones; the ruby and the chalcedony, silver
stones. The “white sapphire” (corundum) was a stone of Jupiter, while
the jacinth was a mercurial stone. Powdered jacinth mixed with an equal
quantity of laudanum was recommended as a remedy for fevers resulting
from “putrefaction of the air or water.” This illustrates the custom of
combining an inefficacious material, such as the powder of a precious
stone, with another possessing genuine remedial virtue, the name of the
stone appealing to the popular superstitions regarding its therapeutic
powers, and thus rendering the preparation more acceptable.[465]

It is related by Plutarch that when Pericles was dying of the plague,
he showed to one of his friends, who was visiting him, an amulet
suspended from his neck. This had been given to Pericles by the women
of his household, and Plutarch cites the instance as a proof that even
the strongest minds will at certain times yield to the influence of
superstition.[466]

There were sceptics in ancient times who put no faith in the popular
superstitions as to the curative powers of precious stones. Eusebius
(ca. 264-ca. 349), in his oration on the Emperor Constantine the Great
(272-337), says:[467]

He held that the varieties of stones so greatly admired were useless
and ineffective things. They possessed no other qualities than their
natural ones, and hence no efficacy to hold evils aloof; for what
power can such things have either to cure disease or to avert death?
Nevertheless, although he well knew this, he was in no wise opposed to
their use simply as ornaments by his subjects.

The Middle High German didactic poem on precious stones, composed
by Volmar, or Volamar, about 1250, appears to have been written as
a rejoinder to a satirical poem, the work of a writer called the
“Stricker” (rascal). What chiefly aroused Volmar’s wrath was the fact
that this irreverent personage dared to assert that a piece of colored
glass set in a ring looked just as well and possessed the same virtues
as a genuine precious stone of the same color. Volmar does not mince
matters, and roundly declares that whoever should kill the man who
wrote thus would do no sinful act. While we can scarcely recommend such
drastic action, we must admit that we feel a little sympathy with the
medieval champion of genuine stones against imitations.

A most interesting item recording one phase of a great tyrant’s
character is reported by Sir Jerome Horsey, who was entrusted with
messages to and from Elizabeth of England and Ivan the Terrible of
Russia. He gives, in his “Travels,” a graphic recital of an interview
with Ivan just before the latter’s death in 1584. We retain the archaic
spelling as it is reproduced in the Hakluyt publication from the
original manuscript. Writing of Ivan, Horsey says:[468]

Carried every daye in his chair into his treasure. One daye the prince
beckoned me to follow. I strode emonge the rest venturously, and
heard him call for som precious stones and jewells. Told the prince
and nobles present before and aboute him the virtue of such and such,
which I observed, and do pray I may a littell degress to declare for
my own memorie sake.

“The load-stone you all know hath great and hidden vertue, without
which the seas that compas the world ar not navigable, nor the bounds
nor circles of the earth cannot be knowen. Mahomett, the Percians
proffit, his tombe of steell hangs in their Repatta at Darbent most
miraculously”—Caused the waiters to bringe a chaine of nedells
towched by his load-stone, hanged all one by the other.—“This faire
currell (coral) and this faire turcas you see; take in your hand;
of his natur arr orient coullers; put them on my hand and arm. I am
poisoned with disease: you see they shewe their virtue by the chainge
of their pure culler into pall: declares my death. Reach owt my
staff roiall; an unicorns horn garnished with verie fare diomondes,
rubies, saphiers, emeralls and other precious stones that ar rich
in vallew; cost 70 thousand marckes sterlinge of David Gower from
the fowlkers of Ousborghe.[469] Seek owt for som spiders.” Caused
his phiziccians, Johannes Lloff, to scrape a circle thereof upon the
tabell; putt within it one spider and so one other and died, and some
other without that ran alive apace from it.—“It is too late, it
will not preserve me. Behold these precious stones. This diomond is
the orients richest and most precious of all other. I never affected
it; yt restreyns furie and luxurie and abstinacie and chasticie;
the least parcell of it in powder will poysen a horse geaven to
drinck, much more a man.” Poynts at the ruby. “Oh! this is most
comfortable to the hart, braine, vigar and memorie of man, clarifies
congelled and corrupt bloud.”—Then at the emerald.—“The natur of
the reyn-bowe; this precious stone is an enemye to uncleanness. The
saphier I greatlie delight in; yt preserves and increaseth courage,
joies the hart, pleasinge to all the vitall sensis, precious and verie
soveraigne for the eys, clears the sight, takes awaye bloudshott and
streingthens the mussells and strings thereof.”—Then takes the onex
in hand.—“All these are Gods wonderfull guifts, secreats in natur,
and yet revells [reveals] them to mans use and contemplacion, as
frendes to grace and vertue and enymies to vice. I fainte, carie me
awaye till an other tyme.”

Some believed that when precious stones were worn to relieve or prevent
disease, it was important that the different stones should be worn on
different parts of the body. According to one authority, the jacinth
should be worn on the neck; the diamond, on the left arm; the sapphire,
on the ring-finger; the emerald, or the jacinth, on the index-finger;
and the ruby or turquoise, on either the index-finger or the little
finger.[470] There is, however, little reason to assume that these
rules were generally known and observed.

That precious stones not only appealed to the eye by their beautiful
colors, but also possessed a fragrant odor, was one of the many
fanciful ideas regarding them. If we could believe the following
circumstantial account, this was once experimentally proved:[471]

When precious stones are to be used in medicine, they must be
pulverized until they are reduced to a powder so fine that it will
not grate under the teeth, or, in the words of Galen, this powder
must be as impalpable “as that which is blown into the eyes.” Since
this trituration is not usually operated with sufficient care by the
apothecaries, I begged a medical student, who was lodging with me,
to pass an entire month in grinding some of these stones. I gave him
emeralds, jacinths, sapphires, rubies, and pearls, an ounce of each
kind. As these stones were rough and whole, he first crushed them a
little in a well-polished iron mortar, using a pestle of the same
metal; afterward he employed a pestle and mortar of glass, devoting
several hours each day to this work. At the end of about three weeks,
his room, which was rather large, became redolent with a perfume,
agreeable both from its variety and sweetness. This odor, which much
resembled that of March violets, lingered in the room for more than
three days. There was nothing in the room to produce it, so that it
certainly proceeded from the powder of precious stones.


Diamond

Of the many medicinal virtues attributed to the diamond, one of the
most noteworthy is that of an antidote for poisons. Strangely enough,
the belief in its efficacy in this respect was coupled with the idea
that the stone in itself was a deadly poison. The origin of this
latter fancy must be sought in the tradition that the place wherein
the diamonds were generated—“in the land where it is six months
day and six months night”—was guarded by venomous creatures who,
in passing over the stones, were wounded by the sharp points of the
crystals, and thus embued the stones with some of their venom.[472]
The attribution of curative properties in case of poisoning arose from
association of ideas. The Lapidario of Alfonso X recommends the diamond
for diseases of the bladder; it adds, however, that this stone should
be used only in desperate cases.

The diamond was also believed to afford protection from plague or
pestilence, and a proof of its powers in this direction was found in
the fact that the plague first attacked the poorer classes, sparing the
rich, who could afford to adorn themselves with diamonds. Naturally, in
common with other precious stones, this brilliant gem was supposed to
cure many diseases. Marbodus[473] tells us that it was even a cure for
insanity.

In the Babylonian Talmud we read of a marvellous precious stone
belonging to Abraham. This was perhaps a diamond, or possibly a pearl;
the accounts vary, and the same word is often used to designate
“precious stone” and “pearl.” The following version represents it to be
a diamond:[474]

R. Simeon, ben Johanan said: “A diamond was hanging on Abraham’s neck,
and when a sick man looked upon it he was cured. And when Abraham
passed away, the Lord sealed it in the planet of the sun.”

The Hindus believed that it was extremely dangerous to use diamonds
of inferior quality for curative purposes, as they would not only
fail to remedy the disease for which they were prescribed, but might
cause lameness, jaundice, pleurisy, and even leprosy. As to the use
of diamonds of good quality, very explicit directions are given. On
some day regarded as auspicious for the operation, the stone was to
be dipped in the juice of the _kantakára_ (_Solanum jaquiri_) and
subjected for a whole night to the heat of a fire made by dried pieces
of the dung of a cow or of a buffalo. In the morning it was to be
immersed in cow’s urine and again subjected to fire. These processes
were to be repeated for seven days, at the end of which term the
diamond could be regarded as purified. After this the stone was to be
buried in a paste of certain leguminous seeds mixed with asafœtida and
rock salt. Herein it was to be heated twenty-one successive times,
when it would be reduced to ashes. If these ashes were then dissolved
in some liquid, the potion would “conduce to longevity, general
development of the body, strength, energy, beauty of complexion, and
happiness,” giving an adamantine strength to the limbs.[475]

An Austrian nobleman, who for a long time had not been able to sleep
without having terrible dreams, was immediately cured by wearing a
small diamond set in gold on his arm, so that the stone came in contact
with his skin.[476]

The fact that in this case, as in many others, the stone was required
to touch the skin, proves that the effect supposed to be produced was
not altogether magical, but in the nature of a physical emanation from
the stone to the body of the wearer.

We are told that when Pope Clement VII was seized by his last illness,
in 1534, his physicians resorted to powders composed of various
precious stones. In the space of fourteen days they are asserted to
have given the pope forty thousand ducats’ worth of these stones,
a single dose costing as much as three thousand ducats. The most
costly remedy of all was a diamond administered to him at Marseilles.
Unfortunately, this lavish expenditure was of no avail; indeed,
according to our modern science, the remedies might have sufficed to
end the pope’s life, without the help of his disease.[477]

The old fancy that the diamond grew dark in the presence of poison
is explained by the Italian physician Gonelli as caused by minute
and tenuous particles which emanated from the poison, impinged upon
the surface of the diamond, and, unable to penetrate its dense mass,
accumulated on the surface, thus producing a superficial discoloration.
The diamond, being a cold substance, may have condensed moisture from
the body, and the one suffering from the poison may have emitted
exudations. But this elaborate explanation of a phenomenon which
never existed except in the imagination of those who related it is
characteristic of Gonelli, who was always ready to elucidate in
some similar way any of the marvels recounted in regard to precious
stones.[478]


Emerald

The emerald was employed as an antidote for poisons and for poisoned
wounds, as well as against demoniacal possession.[479] If worn on the
neck it was said to cure the “semitertian” fever and epilepsy.[480]
The use of the emerald to rest and relieve the eye is the only remedial
use of a precious stone mentioned by Theophrastus in his treatise on
gems, written in the third century B.C. Alluding to its powers as an
antidote for poisons, Rueus asserts[481] that if the weight of eighty
barley-corns of its powder were given to one dying from the effects
of poison, the dose would save his life. The Arabs prized emeralds
highly for this purpose, and Abenzoar states that, having once taken a
poisonous herb, he placed an emerald in his mouth and applied another
to his stomach, whereupon he was entirely cured.[482]

A certain cure for dysentery also was to wear an emerald suspended
so that it touched the abdomen and to place another emerald in the
mouth. Michaele Paschali, a learned Spanish physician of the sixteenth
century, declared that he had effected a cure of the disease by means
of the emerald in the case of Juan de Mendoza, a Spanish grandee,
and Wolfgang Gabelchover, of Calw, in Würtemberg, writing in 1603,
asserts that he had often tested the virtues of the emerald in cases of
dysentery and with invariable success.[483]

It speaks not a little for the beauty of the emerald that so good a
judge of precious stones as Pliny should have pronounced this gem to
be the only one that delighted the eye without fatiguing it, adding
that when the vision was wearied by gazing intently at other objects,
it gained renewed strength by viewing an emerald. So general in the
early centuries of our era was the persuasion that the pure green hue
of emeralds aided the eyesight, that gem engravers are said to have
kept some of them on their work-tables, so as to be able to look at
the stones from time to time and thus relieve the eye-strain caused by
close application to their delicate task.[484]

Psellus says that a cataplasm made of emeralds was of help to those
suffering from leprosy; he adds that if pulverized and taken in water
they would check hemorrhages.[485] They were especially commended
for use as amulets to be hung on the necks of children, as they were
believed to ward off and prevent epilepsy. If, however, the violence of
the disease was such that it could not be overcome by the stone, the
latter would break.[486] Hermes Trismegistus says the emerald cures
ophthalmia and hemorrhages. The great Hermes must have had a special
preference for this stone, since his treatise on chemistry (_peri
chemeias_) is said to have been found inscribed on an emerald.[487]

By the Hindu physicians of the thirteenth century the emerald was
considered to be a good laxative. It cured dysentery, diminished the
secretion of bile, and stimulated the appetite. In short, it promoted
bodily health and destroyed demoniacal influences. In the curious
phrase of the school the emerald was “cold and sweet.”[488]

Teifashi (1242 A.D.) believed that the emerald was a cure for
hæmoptysis and for dysentery if it were worn over the liver of the
person affected; to cure gastric troubles, the stone was to be laid
upon the stomach. Furthermore, the wearer was protected from the
attacks of venomous creatures, and evil spirits were driven from the
place where emeralds were kept.[489] The direction to place the stone
on the affected part, a recommendation often met with in the treatises
on the therapeutic use of ornamental stones, shows that these were
believed to send forth emanations of subtle power. Probably enough, the
brilliant play of reflected light which proceeds from many of these
gems suggested the idea that they radiated a certain curative energy.
This theory need not surprise us, for, although it is altogether
fanciful in the case of the diamond, ruby, emerald, etc., the newly
discovered substance, radium, really possesses the active properties
ascribed by old writers to precious stones.


Jade

A stone the therapeutic quality of which was specialized is the jade or
nephrite. Strange to say, although there are very few places where this
mineral can now be obtained,—the chief sources of supply being the
province of Khotan in Turkistan and New Zealand,—in prehistoric times
the stone must have been found in many different localities, since
axe-heads and other artefacts of jade have been discovered in many
lands both of the old and new world.

When the Spaniards discovered and explored the southern part of the
American continent, they came across numerous native ornaments and
amulets made of jade (jadeite) and brought many of these with them to
Europe. The name jade is derived from the Spanish designation, _piedra
de hijada_, meaning literally “stone of the flank,” which is said to
have been bestowed on the stone because the Indians used it for all
diseases of the kidneys. The name nephrite owes its origin to the
same idea. In ancient times jade appears to have been looked upon as
a great aid in parturition, and many ingenious conjectures have been
advanced as to the connection between this belief and the form of some
of the prehistoric objects made of this material. Whether the Spaniards
really learned from the Indians that the stone was especially adapted
to cure renal diseases, or whether they only suggested this special
and peculiar virtue in order to give an enhanced value to their jade
ornaments, is a question not easily answered.

An early notice of jade as a remedial agent appears in Sir Walter
Raleigh’s account of his travels in Guiana. Treating of a people
of “Amazons” said to dwell in the interior of the country, Raleigh
says:[490]

These Amazones have likewise great store of these plates of golde,
which they recover by exchange, chiefly for a kinde of greene stone,
which the Spaniards call Piedras Hijadas, and we use for spleene
stones and for the disease of the stone we also esteeme them: of these
I saw divers in Guiana, and commonly every King or _Casique_ hath one,
which theire wives for the most part weare, and they esteeme them as
great jewels.

By the middle of the seventeenth century the curative powers of
jade for the various forms of calculi was very generally admitted.
A singular instance is offered us in one of Voiture’s letters.
He was a great sufferer from “the stone” and he had received,
from a Mademoiselle Paulet, a beautiful jade bracelet. Gratefully
acknowledging the receipt of this peculiar gift, he expresses himself
in the following frank way, a mixture of indelicacy and gallantry
that seems strange to us: “If the stones you have given me do not
break mine, they will at least make me bear my sufferings patiently;
and it seems to me that I ought not to complain of my colic, since it
has procured me this happiness.” The name used for jade by Voiture,
“_l’éjade_,” supplied a missing link in the derivation of our name
jade from the Spanish _hijada_. When the lady’s gift was received by
Voiture, some friends chanced to be present, and they were disposed to
regard it as a token of love until he assured them that it was only
a remedy. It appears that Mlle. Paulet was a fellow sufferer, and,
alluding to this, Voiture writes: “On this occasion the jade had for
you an effect you did not expect from it, and its virtue defended your
own.”[491]

Renal calculi and poetry do not seem to have much in common, but the
following lines freely rendered from an old Italian poem on the subject
by Ciri de Pers show that even this unpromising theme is susceptible of
poetic treatment:[492]

“Other white stones serve to mark happy days,
But mine do mark days full of pain and gloom.
To build a palace, or a temple fair,
Stones should be used; but mine do serve
To wreck the fleshly temple of my soul.

* * * * *

Well do I know that Death doth whet his glaive
Upon these stones, and that the marble white
That grows in me is there to form my tomb.”

As jade was and still is the most favored stone in China, although
never found within the boundaries of China proper, it was very
naturally accorded wonderful medical virtues. An old Chinese
encyclopedia, the work of Li She Chan, and presented by him to the
emperor Wan Lih of the Ming dynasty, in 1596, contains many interesting
notices of jade. When reduced to a powder of the size of rice grains it
strengthened the lungs, the heart, and the vocal organs, and prolonged
life, more especially if gold and silver were added to the jade powder.
Another, and certainly a pleasanter way of absorbing this precious
mineral, was to drink what was enthusiastically called the “divine
liquor of jade.” To concoct this elixir equal parts of jade, rice, and
dew-water were put into a copper pot and boiled, the resultant liquid
being carefully filtered. This mixture was said to strengthen the
muscles and make them supple, to harden the bones, to calm the mind, to
enrich the flesh, and to purify the blood. Whoever took it for a long
space of time ceased to suffer from either heat or cold and no longer
felt either hunger or thirst.

Galen (b. ca. 130 A.D.) wrote thus of the green jasper:[493]

Some have testified to a virtue in certain stones, and this is true
of the green jasper, that is to say, this stone aids the stomach and
navel by contact. And some, therefore, set the stone in rings and
engrave on it a dragon surrounded by rays, according to what King
Nechepsos has transmitted to posterity in the fourteenth book (of his
works). Indeed, I myself have thoroughly tested this stone, for I hung
a necklace composed of them about my neck so that they touched the
navel, and I received not less benefit from them than I would had they
borne the engraving of which Nechepsos wrote.


Ruby

Sanskrit medical literature as represented by Naharari, a physician
of Cashmere, who wrote in the thirteenth century, finds in the ruby a
valuable remedy for flatulency and biliousness. Moreover, aside from
these special uses, an elixir of great potency could be made from
rubies by those who properly understood the employment of precious
stones in the compounding of medicines.[494] This famous “ruby elixir”
may have had little in common with the stone except its color, as such
remedies were generally said to have been made by some secret and
mysterious process, in the course of which all material evidence of the
presence of any precious stone or stones completely disappeared.


Sapphire

One of the earliest specimens of English literature, William Langley’s
“Vision of William concerning Piers the Plowman” (written about 1377),
contains a mention of the sapphire as a cure for disease:[495]

I looked on my left half as þe lady me taughte
And was war of a woman wortheli yeclothed,
Purfiled with pelure[496] þe finest vpon erthe,
Y-crowned with a corone þe kyng hath none better.
Fetislich[497] hir fyngres were fretted[498] with gold wyre,
And þere-on red rubyes as red as any glede,[499]
And diamants of derrest pris, and double manere safferes,
Orientales and ewages[500] enuenymes[501] to destroye.

Among the rich gifts offered at the shrine of St. Erkinwald, in Old
Saint Paul’s, was a sapphire given in 1391 by Richard Preston, “a
citizen and grocer of London.” He stipulated that the stone should
be kept at the shrine for the cure of diseases of the eyes, and that
proclamation should be made of its remedial virtues. St. Erkinwald
was the son of Offa, King of the East Saxons, and was converted to
Christianity by Melittus, the first bishop of London. In 675 A.D. he
himself became bishop of London, being the third to attain that rank
after the death of Melittus. His body was interred in the cathedral,
and his shrine, which was richly embellished during the reign of Edward
III (1327-1377), received many valuable donations.[502]

The usefulness of the sapphire as an eyestone for the removal of all
impurities or foreign bodies from the eye is noted by Albertus Magnus,
who writes that he had seen it employed for this purpose. He adds that
when a sapphire was used in this way it should be dipped in cold water
both before and after the operation.[503] This was probably not so much
to make the stone colder to the touch as to cleanse it, certainly a
very necessary proceeding when the same stone was used by many persons
suffering from contagious diseases of the eyes.

Richard Preston’s sapphire appears to have been only one of a class
regarded as having special virtue to cure diseased eyes, as is shown
by the existence of various other similar sapphires in different parts
of Europe. It is not very easy to determine the precise reason—if
there be one—which rendered any single sapphire more useful than
another in this respect. An entry in the inventory of Charles V notes
“an oval Oriental sapphire for touching the eyes, set in a band of
gold.”[504] Possibly the fact that a particular gem of this kind was
used remedially, and was not set for wear as an ornament, may have been
the only cause for a belief in its special virtue.

That the sapphire should have been regarded as especially valuable
for the cure of eye diseases serves to illustrate the wide-reaching
and persistent influence of Egyptian thought, and the curious
transformations through which an originally reasonable idea may pass
in the course of time. We have already noted that the sapphire of the
ancients was our lapis-lazuli, and in the Ebers Papyrus lapis-lazuli
is given as one of the ingredients of an eye-wash. This ingredient is
believed to have originally been the oxide of copper sometimes called
lapis Armenus, a material possessing marked astringent properties, and
which might be used to advantage in certain morbid conditions of the
eye. Lapis-lazuli, another blue stone, was later substituted because
of its greater intrinsic value, its similarity of color rendering it
equally efficacious according to primitive ideas on this subject. When,
however, in medieval times, the name sapphire came to signify the blue
corundum gem known to us by this designation, the special curative
virtues of the lapis-lazuli were transferred to this still more
valuable stone.

The proper method of applying a sapphire to cure plague boils is given
at some length by Van Helmont. A gem of a fine, deep color was to be
selected and rubbed gently and slowly around the pestilential tumor.
During and immediately after this operation, the patient would feel
but little alleviation; but a good while after the removal of the
stone, favorable symptoms would appear, provided the malady were not
too far advanced. This Van Helmont attributes to a magnetic force in
the sapphire by means of which the absent gem continued to extract
“the pestilential virulency and contagious poyson from the infected
part.”[505]


Topaz

The use of a topaz to cure dimness of vision is strongly recommended
by St. Hildegard. To attain the desired end the stone was to be placed
in wine and left there for three days and three nights. When retiring
to sleep, the patient should rub his eyes with the moistened topaz, so
that this moisture lightly touched the eyeball. After the stone had
been removed, the wine could be used for five days.[506]

A Roman physician of the fifteenth century was reputed to have wrought
many wonderful cures of those stricken by the plague, through touching
the plague sores with a topaz which had belonged to two popes, Clement
VI and Gregory II. The fact that this particular topaz had been in the
hands of two supreme pontiffs must have added much to the faith reposed
in the curative powers of the stone by those upon whom it was used,
and this faith may really have helped to hasten their recovery.[507]


Bloodstone

A historical instance of the use of the bloodstone to check a
hemorrhage is recorded in the case of Giorgio Vasari (1514-1578), the
author of the lives of the Italian painters of the Renaissance period.
On a certain occasion, when the painter Luca Signorelli (1439-1521)
was placing one of his pictures in a church at Arezzo, Vasari, who was
present, was seized with a violent hemorrhage and fainted away. Without
a moment’s hesitation, Signorelli took from his pocket a bloodstone
amulet and slipped it down between Vasari’s shoulder-blades. The
hemorrhage is said to have ceased immediately.[508]

The bloodstone was used as a remedy by the Indians of New Spain, and
Monardes notes that they often cut the material into the shape of
hearts. This seems a very appropriate form for an object used to check
hemorrhages. The best effect was attained when the stone was first
dipped in cold water and then held by the patient in his right hand.
Of course the application of any cold object would serve to congeal
the blood, but the connection with the heart vanishes in the direction
to place the stone in the _right_ hand. Monardes states that both
Spaniards and Indians used the bloodstone in this way.[509]

The Franciscan friar Bernardino de Sahagun, a missionary to the Mexican
Indians, shortly after the Spanish Conquest, writes that in 1576 he
cured many natives who were at the point of death from hemorrhage, a
result of the plague, by causing them to hold in the hand a piece of
bloodstone. By this means he claims to have saved many lives.[510]

Robert Boyle, in his “Essay about the Origin and Virtues of Gems”
(London, 1672, pp. 177-78), tells of a gentleman of his acquaintance
who was “of a complexion extraordinary sanguin,” and was much afflicted
with bleeding of the nose. A gentlewoman sent to him a bloodstone,
directing him to wear it suspended from his neck, and from the time
he put it on he was no longer troubled with his malady. It recurred,
however, if he removed the stone. When Boyle objected that this might
be a result of imagination, his friend disposed of his objection by
relating the instance of a woman to whom the stone had been applied
when she was unconscious from loss of blood. Nevertheless, as soon as
it touched her, the flow of blood was checked. Boyle states that this
stone did not seem to him to resemble a true bloodstone. It may have
been that the cold of the stone congealed the blood, or that the flow
was checked by exhaustion.

 

FOOTNOTES:


[1] Jean de la Taille de Bondaroy, “Le Blason de la Marguerite,” Paris,
1574.

[2] De Boot, “Gemmarum et lapidum historia,” lib. i, cap. 25, Lug.
Bat., 1636, pp. 87, 91.

[3] De Boot, “Gemmarum et lapidum historia,” lib. i, cap. 26, Lug.
Bat., 1636, p. 103.

[4] Mackey, “Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions,” London, n.
d., p. 144.

[5] Nicols, “Faithful Lapidary,” London, 1659, pp. 32, 33.

[6] Görres, “Die christliche Mystik,” Regensburg, 1840, vol. iii, pp.
190 sqq.

[7] Virna Sheard, “The Jewelled Princess,” in Canadian Magazine.

[8] De Mély, “Les lapidaires de l’antiquité et du moyen-âge,” vol. ii,
“Les lapidaires grecs,” Paris, 1898, pp. 1-50.

[9] Lucas, “The Swallowing Stones by Seals,” Science, N. S., vol. xx,
No. 512, pp. 537, 538; Report of Fur Seal Investigation, vol. iii, p.
68.

[10] Hoernes, “Urgeschichte der bildenden Kunst,” Wien, 1898, p. 108.

[11] Giglioli, “Materiale per lo studio della ‘Età della Pietra,’”
Archivio per l’Antropologia e l’Etnologia, vol. xxxi, p. 83, Firenze,
1901.

[12] Rose, “Handleiding tot de Kennis van diamanten,” etc., Amsterdam,
1891, p. 110.

[13] “Della storia naturale delle Gemme,” Napoli, 1730, Vol. I, pp.
131-137.

[14] Il., xxiv, 795, 796.

[15] Paper by Dr. Paul Ferez in the Revue de l’Hypnotisme, Paris, No.
10, April, 1906, p. 306.

[16] Erasmi, “Colloquia,” Lipsiæ, 1713, pp. 597-8. Suggested by Pliny,
lib. xxxvii, cap. 71-73.

[17] Morris Jastrow, “Die Religion Babyloniens und Assyriens,” vol. i,
Giessen, 1905, p. 374.

[18] Morris Jastrow, l. c., p. 462.

[19] Delitzsch, “Assyrisches Wörterbuch,” Leipzig, 1896, p. 604.

[20] “Aegyptische Goldschmiedearbeit,” ed. by Heinrich Schäffer,
Berlin, 1910, pp. 25-32; necklace figured on Pl. V, other objects on
Pls. V-VII.

[21] Ibid., p. 14, Pl. II, figs. 3a, 3b.

[22] See Reisner, “Catalogue générale des antiquités égyptiennes du
Musée du Caire: Amulets” Le Caire, 1907.

[23] Pitra, “Specilegium Solesmense,” Parisiis, 1855, vol. iii, p. 393.

[24] Kropatschek, “De amuletorum apud antiquos usu,” Gryphiæ, 1907, p.
24 (Paris papyrus, 2630).

[25] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. II, Calcutta, 1881, p. 943.

[26] Seler, “Codex Borgia: Eine altmexicanische Bilderschrift,” Berlin,
1904, vol. i, p. 16.

[27] Francisci Ruei, “De gemmis,” Tiguri, 1566, f. 4.

[28] “Histoire critique des pratiques superstitieuses; par un prêtre de
l’Oratoire,” Paris, 1702, p. 320.

[29] Blum, “Das altjüdische Zauberwesen,” Strassburg, 1898, p. 91.

[30] A projection serving to fasten down the belt.

[31] Compleat Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, ed. Skeat, Oxford, 1894, vol.
i, p. 139.

[32] Matthæi Paris, “Historia major,” London, 1684, p. 318.

[33] “Le Grand Lapidaire” of Jean de Mandeville, Vienna, 1862, pp.
126-128.

[34] Güdermann, “Das jüdische Unterrichtswesen,” Wien, 1873, p. 225.

[35] “Ethics of the Dust,” New York, 1886, p. 96.

[36] See also the writer’s pamphlet: “The Folk-Lore of Precious
Stones,” Chicago, 1894; a paper read before the Folk-Lore Congress held
at the World’s Columbian Exhibition, and describing the Kunz Collection
exhibited in the Anthropological Building there. This collection is now
in the Field Museum, Chicago.

[37] King’s version in his “Natural History of Precious Stones,”
London, 1865, p. 392.

[38] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fol. 10.

[39] Camilli Leonardi, “Speculum lapidum,” Venetia, 1502, fol. 22.

[40] Albertus Magnus, “Le Grand Albert des secretz des vertus des
Herbes, Pierres et Bestes. Et aultre livre des Merveilles du Monde,
d’aulcuns effetz causez daulcunes bestes,” Turin, Bernard du mont du
Chat (c. 1515). Liv. ii, fol. 8 recto.

[41] Cardani, “De subtilitate,” Basileæ, 1560, p. 460.

[42] Cardani, “De gemmis,” Basileæ, 1585, p. 323.

[43] Valentini, “Museum museorum oder die vollständige Schau-Bühne,”
Franckfurt am Mayn, 1714, vol. ii, pt. 3, p. 34; figure of air-ship on
p. 35.

[44] Hoernes, “Urgeschichte der bildenden Kunst,” Vienna, 1898, p. 376.
Figured in S. Muller’s “Ordn. af Danm. Olds.,” i, Pl. XV, Figs. 252 sq.

[45] Ovidii, “Metamorphoses,” lib. ii, 11. 340 sqq. Some have proposed
to read Redanus instead of Eridanus and have seen in the former name
the designation of a stream flowing into the Vistula.

[46] Plinii, “Naturalis Historia,” lib. xxxvii, cap. 7.

[47] Bk. xviii, 11, 295-298, trans. of William Cullen Bryant.

[48] Du Chaillu, “The Viking Age,” New York, 1889, vol. ii, p. 314.
(Figs. 1210, 1211, 1212.)

[49] Sendelii, “Electrologiæ,” Elbingæ, 1725, Pt. I, p. 12, note.

[50] Camilli Leonardi, “Speculum lapidum,” Venetia, 1502, fol. 22.

[51] Johannis de Cuba, “Hortus Sanitatis,” [Strassburg, 1483]
tractatus de lapibus, cap. vii.

[52] Belleau, “Œuvres poétiques,” ed. Marty-Laveaux, Paris, 1878, vol.
ii, pp. 172 sqq. The poem in which this tale occurs is the “Amours
et nouveaux eschanges des pierres précieuses,” written in 1576 and
dedicated to Henri III.

[53] Rose, “Aristotles de lapidibus und Arnoldus Saxo,” in Zeitschr.
für D. Alt., New Series, vol. vi, p. 431.

[54] Konrad von Megenberg, “Buch der Natur,” ed. by Dr. Franz Pfeiffer,
Stuttgart, 1861, p. 436.

[55] Pitra, “Specilegium Solesmense,” Parisiis, 1855, vol. iii, p. 325.

[56] Kropatschek, “De amuletorum apud antiquos usu,” Gryphiæ, 1907, p.
16.

[57] Cardani, “Philosophi opera quædam lectu digna,” Basileæ, 1585, p.
323. “De gemmis.”

[58] Rumphius, “Amboinsche Rariteitkamer,” Amsterdam, 1741, p. 308.

[59] Goethe Westösterlicher Divan I, Segenspfänder.

[60] “Lapidario del Rey D. Alfonso X,” codice original, Madrid, 1881,
fol. 77, p. 49.

[61] Hendley, “Indian Jewellery,” London, 1909, p. 158.

[62] Arakel, “Livre d’histoire,” chap. liii; transl. in Brosset,
“Collection d’historiens arméniens,” St. Pétersburg, 1874, vol. i, pp.
544, 545.

[63] Josephi Gonelli, “Thesaurus philosophicus, seu de gemmis,”
Neapoli, 1702, p. 112.

[64] “Gemmarum et lapidum historia,” Lug. Bat., 1636, p. 230.

[65] Agatharcides, “De Mar1 Erythræo,” §2. The topaz of the ancients
was unquestionably the gem commonly called chrysolite at present
(olivine, peridot).

[66] Diodorus Siculus, lib. iii, cap. 38.

[67] Plinii, “Naturalis Historia,” lib. xxxvii, cap. 32.

[68] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fol. 16.

[69] Volmar, Steinbuch, ed. by Hans Lambel, Heilbronn, 1877, p. 22.

[70] Alberti Magni, “Opera Omnia,” ed. Borgnet, Parisiis, 1890, vol. v,
p. 43. De mineralibus, lib. ii, tract. 2.

[71] Bauer, “Edelsteinkunde,” Leipzig, 1909, p. 750.

[72] Albertus Magnus, “Le Grand Albert des secretz des vertus des
Herbes, Pierres et Bestes. Et aultre livre des Merveilles du Monde,
d’aulcuns effetz causez daulcunes bestes,” Turin, Bernard du mont du
Chat (c. 1515). Liv. ii, fol. 9 recto.

[73] Bellucci, “Il feticismo primitivo in Italia,” Perugia, 1907, pp.
22-25.

[74] “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, f. 8.

[75] St. Hildegardæ, “Opera Omnia,” in Pat. Lat. ed Migne, vol. cxcvii,
col. 1254.

[76] “De gemmis,” Tiguri, 1566, f. 52.

[77] “Philosophi opera quædam lectu digna,” Basileæ, 1585, p. 322. “De
gemmis.”

[78] Anonymous writer in Ital. MS. of the fourteenth century in the
author’s library; fol. 41 p. verso.

[79] See page 278 for description of this diamond by St. Epiphanius.

[80] Finot, “Les lapidaires indiens,” Paris, 1896, p. 9.

[81] Finot, “Les lapidaires indiens,” Paris, 1896, p. 8.

[82] Finot, l. c., p. 9.

[83] Konrad von Megenberg, “Buch der Natur,” ed. by Dr. Franz Pfeiffer,
Stuttgart, 1861, p. 433.

[84] New edition of the Babylonian Talmud, ed. and trans. by Michael L.
Rodkinson, vol. v (xiii), Baba Batra, New York, 1902, p. 207.

[85] Ratzel, “Völkerkunde,” Leipzig, 1885, vol. i, p. 36.

[86] Dr. Julius Ruska, “Das Steinbuch aus der Kosmographie des
al-Kazwini,” Beilage zum Jahresbericht 1894-5 der Oberrealschule
Heidelberg, p. 35. See Aristoteles De Lapidibus und Arnoldus Saxo,
ed. Rose, Z.f.D.A. New Series VI, pp. 364, 365, 389, 390. The “other
writer” is probably Ahmed Teifashi.

[87] The work on precious stones attributed to Aristotle was composed
in Arabic probably in the ninth century.

[88] Teifashi, “Fior di pensieri sulle pietre preziose,” Firenzi, 1818,
p. 13.

[89] Proc. of the Royal Irish Academy, 2d Ser., Polite Literature and
Antiquities, vol. ii, Dublin, 1879-1888, p. 303.

[90] Epiphanii, “De XII gemmis,” Tiguri, 1565, fol. 5.

[91] Morales, “De las piedras preciosas,” Valladolid, 1604, fol. 101.

[92] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fol. 48; Camilli
Leonardi, “Speculum lapidum,” Venetia, 1502, fol. xliii.

[93] Fol. 55 recto of Ital. MS., 14th Century. Reference is to Bela IV
(1235-1270). Lo reo dilugaria bela loqale in di nostri tempi regna.

[94] Weil, “Biblische Legenden,” p. 225.

[95] Cardani, “Philosophi opera quædam,” Basileæ, 1585, p. 328. “De
gemmis.”

[96] Albertus Magnus, “Le Grand Albert des secrets des vertus des
Herbes, Pierres et Bestes. Et aultre livre des Merveilles du Monde,
d’aulcuns effetz causez daulcunes bestes,” Turin, Bernard du mont du
Chat (c. 1515). Liv. ii, fol. 11.

[97] “Naturalis historia,” lib. xxxvii, cap. 60.

[98] George H. Pepper, “The Exploration of a Burial-room in Pueblo
Bonito, New Mexico,” Putnam Anniversary Volume, New York, 1909, p. 239;
Fig. 5.

[99] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fol. 38.

[100] Cardani, “Philosophi opera quædam,” Basileæ, 1585, p. 323. “De
gemmis.”

[101] S. Hildegardæ, Opera omnia; in. Pat. Lat. ed. J. P. Migne, vol.
cxcvii, Parisiis, 1855, col. 1251.

[102] Cardani, “De subtilitate,” Basileæ, 1560, pp. 442-3.

[103] Chalfant, “Early Chinese Writing,” Mem. of Carnegie Museum, vol.
iv, No. 1, Pittsburg, 1906, p. 10 and Pl. XX, No. 275. See also Pl. X,
No. 132; _pei_, “shell,” “value,” as shells were used as money in very
ancient times.

[104] Chalfant, “Early Chinese Writing,” Pl. XXII, No. 299.

[105] “Catalogue of the Woodward Collection of Jades and other Hard
Stones,” by John Getz, Privately printed (New York), 1913, p. 11, No.
24.

[106] Zelia Nuttall, “The Fundamental Principles of Old and New World
Civilization,” Cambridge, Mass., 1901, p. 195. Archæological and
Ethnographical Papers of the Peabody Museum, Harvard University, vol.
ii.

[107] The Bishop Collection. “Investigations and Studies in Jade,” New
York, privately printed, 1906, vol. i, pt. iii, “Jade as a Mineral,” by
George Frederick Kunz, p. 117. Nos. 421 and 646 of the collection are
excellent examples of this special jade.

[108] The Bishop Collection. “Investigations and Studies in Jade,”
New York, 1906, vol. i, p. 12. Privately printed and edition limited
to 100 copies. For a description of this monumental work see “The
Printed Catalogue of the Heber R. Bishop Collection of Jade,” by George
Frederick Kunz, supplement to the Bulletin of the Metropolitan Museum
of Art for May, 1906, Occasional Notes, No. 1.

[109] See Fischer, “Ueber die Nephritindustrie der Maoris in
Neuseeland,” Archiv für Anthropologie, vol. xv, Braunschweig, 1884, pp.
463-466.

[110] King’s version in his Natural History of Precious Stones, London,
1865, p. 382.

[111] Pitra, “Specilegium Solesmense,” Parisiis, 1855, p. 328.

[112] Epiphanius, “De XII gemmis,” Tiguri, 1565, fols. 7, 8.

[113] Birlinger, “Kleinere deutsche Sprachdenkmäler,” in Germania, vol.
viii (1863), p. 302.

[114] Bartolomæi Anglici “De proprietatibus rerum,” London, Wynkyn de
Worde, 1495, lib. xvi, cap. 51, De Jaspide. Old English version by John
of Trevisa.

[115] Hoernes, “Urgeschichte der bildenden Kunst,” Wien, 1898, pp. 22,
24.

[116] Dupont, “L’homme pendant les âges de la pierre,” Brussels, 1872,
pp. 156 sqq.

[117] Pepper, “The Exploration of a Burial-room in Pueblo Bonito,”
Putnam Anniversary Volume, New York, 1909, p. 237.

[118] Ward, “Seal Cylinders of Western Asia,” Washington, D. C., 1910,
p. 121; citing Jastrow, “Religion,” p. 303.

[119] Albertus Magnus, “Le Grand Albert des secretz des vertus des
Herbes, Pierres et Bestes. Et aultre livre des Merveilles du Monde,
d’aulcuns effetz causez daulcunes bestes,” Turin, Bernard du mont du
Chat (c. 1515). Liv. ii, fol. 11, recto.

[120] The Timæus of Plato, ed. by R. R. Archer-Hind, London, 1888, p.
302, note.

[121] Plinii, “Historia naturalis,” Venetiis, 1507, fol. 269 verso,
lib. xxxvi, cap. 16.

[122] Plinii, l. c., fol. 254, verso, lib. xxxiv, cap. 14.

[123] King’s metrical version in his “Natural History of Gems,” London,
1865, p. 226.

[124] John of Trevisa’s version (made in 1396) of Bartholomæus
Anglicus’ “De proprietatibus rerum,” London, Wynkyn de Worde, 1495,
lib. xvi, cap. 43, De Magnete.

[125] Bartolomæi Anglici, “De proprietatibus rerum,” l. c.

[126] Lucian, Imag. I.

[127] Klaproth, “Lettre à M. le Baron A. de Humboldt sur l’invention de
la boussole,” Paris, 1834, p. 20.

[128] From El Kazwini’s “Adjâïl el makluquat”; cited in marginal note,
vol. i, pp. 310, 311, of El Damu’s “Hayat el hayauân,” Cairo, 1313
(1895).

[129] Kunz, “Gems and Precious Stones of North America,” New York,
1890, p. 192.

[130] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fol. 51; Camilli
Leonardi, “Speculum lapidum,” Venetia, 1502, fol. xxxviii.

[131] Chiocci, “Museum Calceolarium,” Veronæ, 1622, p. 227.

[132] De Boot, “Gemmarum et lapidum historia,” Lug. Bat., 1636, p. 264,
lib. ii, cap. 113.

[133] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fol. 51.

[134] “Les secrets de la Lune,” Paris, 1571.

[135] Cardani, “De subtilitate,” lib. vii, Basileæ, 1560, p. 464.

[136] “Handbook of American Indians North of Mexico,” ed. by Frederick
Webb Hodge; Smithsonian Inst.; Bur. Am. Ethn., Bull. 30; Washington,
1910, Pt. 2, p. 331.

[137] Kunz, “Gems and Precious Stones of North America,” New York,
1890, pp. 299, 300.

[138] Sancti Eusebii Hieronymi “Opera Omnia,” ed. Migne, vol. iv,
Parisiis, 1865, col. 545.

[139] Pfizmeier, “Beiträge zur Geschichte der Edelsteinen und des
Goldes,” Sitzungsbericht d. phil. hist. Kl., Wien, vol. lviii, 1868, p.
200.

[140] Pfizmeier, l. c., p. 201.

[141] Garbe, “Die indische Mineralien; Naharari’s Râjanighantu, Varga
XIII,” Leipzig, 1882, p. 70.

[142] Epiplianii, “De XII gemmis,” Tiguri, 1565, fol. 5.

[143] Camilli Leonardi, “Speculum lapidum,” Venetia, 1502, fol. xxvi.

[144] Pannier, “Les lapidaires français,” Paris, 1882, pp. 246, 264,
295. Cited in Schofield, “The Pearl,” Pub. of Mod. Lang. Asso. of Am.,
vol. xxiv, Pt. 4, p. 599.

[145] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. I, Calcutta, 1879, p. 199.

[146] “Le grand lapidaire de Jean de Mandeville,” from the ed. of 1561,
ed. by J. S. del Sotto, Vienne, 1862, p. 8.

[147] Taw Sein Ko, communication from his “Burmese Necromancy.”

[148] Pitra, “Specilegium Solesmense,” Parisiis, 1855, vol. iii, p. 328.

[149] Epiphanii, “De XII gemmis,” Tiguri, 1565, fol. 6.

[150] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fols. 46, 47.

[151] Bartolomæi Anglici, “De proprietatibus rerum,” London, Wynkyn de
Worde, 1495, lib. xvi, cap. 86, De Saphiro.

[152] Old English for spider.

[153] Bartolomæus Anglicus, l. c.

[154] The subject of the origin, development and reform of the
carat-weight has been fully treated by the author in the Trans. of the
Soc. of Min. Engineers, 1913, pp. 1225-1245, “The New International
Metric Diamond Carat of 200 milligrams.”

[155] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fol. 50, note of Pictor
Villengensis.

[156] Bellucci, “Il feticismo primitivo in Italia,” Perugia, 1907, pp.
25, 26.

[157] Volmar, “Steinbuch,” ed. by Hans Lambel, Heilbronn, 1877, p. 19.

[158] De Boot, “Gemmarum et lapidum historia,” Lug. Bat., 1636, pp.
266-268.

[159] De Boot, “Gemmarum et lapidum historia,” Lug. Bat., 1636, pp.
169, 170.

[160] De Boot, l. c., p. 270.

[161] Hendley, “Indian Jewelry,” London, 1909, p. 158.

[162] Kunz, “Gems and Precious Stones of North America,” New York,
1890, pp. 61, 62, pl. opposite p. 56.

[163] Kunz, l. c., see pl. 2, fig. A.

[164] Pepper, “The Exploration of a Burial-room in Pueblo Bonito, New
Mexico,” Putnam Anniversary Volume, New York, 1909, pp. 196-252.

[165] Pepper, “The Exploration of a Burial-room in Pueblo Bonito, New
Mexico,” pp. 223, 224.

[166] Pepper, l. c., p. 227.

[167] Burke, “The Medicine-men of the Apache,” Ninth Annual Report of
the Bureau of Ethnology, 1887-1888, Washington, 1892, p. 589.

[168] Fernie, “Precious Stones for Curative Use,” Bristol, 1907, p. 269.

[169] From “The Sacred Beetle,” by John Ward, London, 1902, Plate VIII,
Nos. 46, 58, 89, 275, 276, 446.

[170] Budge, “The Mummy,” Cambridge, 1894, pp. 234-235.

[171] The Metropolitan Museum of Art; the Murch Collection of Egyptian
antiquities; supplement to the Bulletin of the Met. Mus. of Art,
January, 1910.

[172] Middleton, “Engraved Gems of Ancient Times,” Cambridge, 1891, p.
151.

[173] Diodori Siculi, “Bibliothecæ historicales,” ed. Dindorf,
Parisiis, 1842, vol. i, p. 65; lib. i, cap. 75.

[174] Æliani, “De animalibus,” lib. x, cap. 15.

[175] Hoernes, “Urgeschichte der bildenden Kunst,” Wien, 1898, pp. 155,
156.

[176] Konrad v. Megenberg, “Buch der Natur,” ed. Pfeiffer, Stuttgart,
1861, p. 448; see also Johannis de Cuba, “Hortus Sanitatis”
[Strassburg, 1483], tractatus de lapidibus, cap. xliii.

[177] Marbodei, “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, fol. 19.

[178] Fischer and Wiedemann, “Ueber Babylonische ‘Talismane’ aus dem
hist. Mus. im steierisch-landschaftl. Joanneum zu Graz,” Stuttgart,
1881, p. 9.

[179] See Ward, “The Seal Cylinders of Western Asia,” Carnegie
Institution Pub., Washington, D. C., 1910, pp. 1-5.

[180] Ward, l. c., p. 5 and pp. 5-8.

[181] Fischer and Wiedemann, “Ueber Babylonische Talismane,” Stuttgart,
1881, p. 11. See Pl. I, fig. 3.

[182] A. Evans, in “Journal of Hellenic Studies,” vol. xiv (1893), p.
270.

[183] Trebelii Pollionis, De XXX tyrannis, Lipsiæ, p. 295.

[184] Ad illum. catech., Hom. II, 5.

[185] Krause, “Pyrgoteles,” Halle, 1856, pp. 197-8.

[186] Caii Plinii Secundi, Naturalis Historia, ed. Harduin, Parisiis,
1741, vol. ii, p. 489.

[187] King, Catalogue of Engraved Gems, Metropolitan Museum of Art, p.
81, No. 302, 1885.

[188] Dissert. apol. de quibusdam Alexandri Severi numismat., p. 59.
Cited in Dictionnaire de l’arch. chrét., vol. i, Pt. II, Paris, 1907,
cols. 1789, 1790, where the amulet is figured.

[189] Camilli Leonardi, Speculum Lapidum, Venetia, 1502.

[190] Pitra, “Specilegium Solesmense,” Parisiis, 1885, vol. iii, pp.
326, 327.

[191] Camilli Leonardi, “Speculum Lapidum,” Venetia, 1502, ff. lvi-lvii.

[192] From an anonymous Italian treatise in a fourteenth century MS. in
the author’s collection; fol. 40 verso, 41 recto.

[193] Hoernes, “Urgeschichte der bildenden Kunst,” Vienna, 1898, p. 338.

[194] Hoernes, “Urgeschichte der bildenden Kunst,” Vienna, 1898, p. 338.

[195] King, “The Gnostics and their Remains,” London, 1864, p. 238,
figure opp. p. 115.

[196] Catalogue de l’Exposition de la Société d’Anthropologie
(Exposition de 1900), p. 286.

[197] Elworthy, “The Evil Eye,” London, 1895, pp. 353, 354.

[198] Stern, “Medizin, Aberglaube und Geschlechtsleben in der Turkei,”
Berlin, 1903, vol. i, p. 235.

[199] Plini, “Historia naturalis,” lib. xxxvi, cap. 3.

[200] Archæologia, vol. xxx, p. 541, London, 1844; MS. Harl. No. 80,
folio 105, recto.

[201] Pitra, “Specilegium Solesmense,” Parisiis, 1855, vol. iii, p. 336.

[202] De Mély, in La Grande Encyclopédie, vol. xxv, p. 885, art.
Pierres précieuses.

[203] Konrad von Megenberg, “Buch der Natur,” Stuttgart, 1861, p. 469.

[204] Pitra, “Specilegium Solesmense,” Parisiis, 1855, vol. iii, p. 335.

[205] Agricola, “De natura fossilum,” lib. vi, Basileæ, 1546, p. 291.

[206] Nicols, “Faithful Lapidary,” London, 1659, p. 107.

[207] Kluge, “Edelsteinkunde,” Leipsic, 1860, p. 366.

[208] Fernie, “Precious Stones for Curative Wear,” Bristol, 1907, p.
109.

[209] The opal is said to preserve its wearer from disease; and hence,
in the East, is much used in the form of amulets.

[210] From “Gems of Beauty,” by the Countess of Blessington, London,
1836.

[211] Sir Walter Scott, “Novels,” The Janson Society, New York, 1907,
vol. xxiii, pp. 126-138.

[212] Plinii, “Naturalis historia,” lib. xxxvii, cap. 6.

[213] Plinii, l. c.

[214] Hesselquist, “Voyages and Travels in the Levant,” English trans.,
London, 1766, pp. 273, 274.

[215] Alberti Magni, Opera Omnia, ed. Borgnet, Parisiis, 1890, vol. v,
p. 42.

[216] Communication of Dr. Frederick Knab, citing Castellani and
Chalmers, “Manual of Tropical Medicine,” 1910.

[217] Batman, “Uppon Bartholome,” London, 1582, p. 264, lib. xvi, cap.
73.

[218] Shakespeare, “Twelfth Night,” Act ii, Sc. 4.

[219] Cardani, “De subtilitate,” Basileæ, 1560, p. 445.

[220] Rose, “Aristoteles De lapidibus und Arnoldus Saxo,” in Zeitschr.
für D. Alt., New Series, vol. vi, p. 391. See also Avicenna, “Liber
canonis,” Basileæ, 1556, p. 182, lib. ii, Tract. ii, cap. 20.

[221] Garcias ab Orta, “Aromatum historia” (Lat. version by Clusius).
Antverpiæ, 1579, p. 172. The Portuguese original was published in Goa,
in 1563.

[222] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. I, Calcutta, 1879, pp.
122, 125.

[223] Justi Lepsii, “De fraude et vi,” cap. v, §8; cited in Pindar, “De
adamante,” Berolini, 1829, p. 58.

[224] Aldrovandi, “Museum metallicum,” Bononiæ, 1648, p. 949.

[225] Vita di Benvenuto Cellini, ed. Carpani, Milano, 1806, p. 445.

[226] Amos, “The Great Oyer of Poisoning,” London, 1846, pp. 336 sqq.

[227] Aldrovandi, “Museum metallicum,” Bononiæ, 1648, p. 949.

[228] Child, “The English and Scottish Popular Ballads,” Boston,
1882-96, vol. i, pp. 187 sqq.

[229] Child, l. c.

[230] Against thee.

[231] Ravii, “Specimen Arabicum,” Trajecti ad Rhenum, 1784, pp. 97, 98.

[232] Andreæ Baccii, “De gemmis et lapidibus pretiosis,” Latin trans.
by Wolfgang Gabelchover, Francofurti, 1603, pp. 63, 64.

[233] “De gemmis errores vulgares,” Lipsiæ, 1688, sect. ii, §12.

[234] Rose, Aristoteles De lapidibus and Arnoldus Saxo, Zeitschr. für
D. Alt., New Series, vol. vi, 1875, pp. 360, 361.

[235] Cardani, “De subtilitate,” Basileæ, 1554, lib. vii, pp. 191, 205.

[236] Ginsburg, “Legends of the Jews,” Eng. trans., Phila., 1909, vol.
i, p. 162. See also Levy, “Dictionary of the Targumim,” etc., New York
and London, 1903, vol. ii, p. 836, s. v. מַרְגָלִית. Pirke d’R. El.,
ch. xxiii.

[237] Ginsburg, l. c., p. 298.

[238] Claudii Æliani, “De animalium natura,” lib. viii, cap. 22, ed.
Gesner, Tiguri, 1568, pp. 182, 183.

[239] Grimm, “Wörterbuch,” vol. ii, col. 1244.

[240] “Lithica,” line 270.

[241] De Mely, “La traité des fleuves de Plutarche,” in Revue des
Études Grecques, vol. v (1892), p. 331.

[242] Luciani, “De Syria dea,” cap. 32.

[243] Rose, “Aristoteles de lapidibus und Arnoldus Saxo,” Zeitschr. für
D. Alt., New Series, vol. vi, 1875, pp. 375, 376.

[244] The abbey to which Hildegard gave the tablet was probably that
built by Theodoric II and destroyed by the Reformers in 1572. The first
building was of wood and was erected by Theodoric I in 923 or 924; this
was ravaged by the Frisians not many years later.

[245] Creuzer, “Antik geschnittene Steine vom Grabmahl der heiligen
Elizabeth,” Leipsic and Darmstadt, 1834, pp. 25, 26.

[246] Arnobio, “Il tesoro delle gioie,” Venice, 1602, p. 34.

[247] See the English translation of his “Chu-fan-chï,” by Friedrich
Hirth and W. W. Rockhill, St. Petersburg, 1911, p. 72.

[248] “Die Reisebeschreibung des R. Benjamin von Tudela,” ed. by L.
Grünhut and Marcus N. Adler, Jerusalem, 1903, pt. ii, trans., p. 17.

[249] Beckmann, “History of Inventions,” English trans., London, 1846,
vol. ii, p. 433.

[250] Garcias ab Orta, “Aromatum historia” (Lat. version by Clusius),
Antverpiæ, 1579, lib. i, p. 174.

[251] Plinii, “Naturalis historia,” lib. xxxvii, cap. 17.

[252] Platonis, “Hippias major,” ed. Didot, vol. i, p. 745.

[253] Norton’s “Ordinall”; in Ashmole “Theatrum Chemicum Britannicum,”
London, 1652, p. 27.

[254] Christiani Mentzelli, “Lapis Bononensis,” Bilefeldiæ, 1675.

[255] See Kunz, “The Phosphorescence of the Diamond,” Trans. N. Y.
Academy of Sciences, vol. x, p. 50, 1890-91; Kunz and Baskerville, “The
Action of Radium, Actinium, Roentgen rays, and Ultra Violet Light in
Minerals and Gems,” Science, vol. xviii, No. 468, pp. 769-783, December
18, 1903.

[256] See page 172.

[257] Boyle, “Works,” London, 1744, vol. ii, p. 85. The experiments
were made October 27, 1663, and the results were communicated to the
Royal Society the next day, the diamond which had been used being shown
to the members at that time.

[258] “Journal des Sçavans,” 1739, pp. 438, 439, of Amsterdam edition,
citing “Hist. de l’Acad. Roy. des Sciences,” 1735 (vol. xxxviii).

[259] See Transactions of the New York Academy of Sciences, vol. xiv,
p. 260; 1895.

[260] “Diamonds,” a lecture delivered before the British Association
at Kimberley, Sept. 5, 1905; London, 1905, p. 37. See also the same
author’s “Diamonds,” London and New York, 1909, pp. 96-101.

[261] Kunz, “Gems and Precious Stones of North America,” New York,
1890, pp. 183, 184.

[262] “Collection des anciens alchemistes grecs,” ed. by M. Berthelot,
trans., p. 336-338; text pp. 351, 352, Paris, 1887, 1888.

[263] “Sur un procédé antique pour rendre les pierres précieuses et les
vitrifications phosphorescentes,” Annales de Chimie et Physique, 6th
ser., vol. xiv, pp. 429-432.

[264] Moryson, “An Itinerary containing his Ten Yeeres Travell through
the Twelve Dominions,” etc., Glasgow, 1907-8, vol. i. p. 216.

[265] Burton, “Supplementary Nights,” London, 1886, vol. iii, p. 354,
note.

[266] Pausaniæ, “Descriptio Græciæ,” ed. Schubart, vol. ii, Lipsiæ,
1883, pp. 54, 55, lib. ii, cap. 21, 12.

[267] Luciani, “Vera Historia,” lib. i, 26.

[268] Balz, “Die sogenannte magische Spiegel und ihr Gebrauch”; Archiv
für Anthrop. N.S., vol. ii, p. 45, 1904.

[269] Sahagun, “Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España,” Mexico,
1829, vol. i, pp. 2, 3; vol. ii, pp. 6, 12, 16, 17; lib. i, cap. 3;
lib. v, cap. 3, 9, 11, 12.

[270] Spartiani, “Vita Didii Juliani,” cap. 7.

[271] Reichelti, “De amuletis,” Argentorati, 1676, p. 36.

[272] “Synodum episcoporum Patricii, Auxilii et Issernani,” in Migne,
Patr. Lat., vol. liii, Parisiis, 1865, col. 825.

[273] Hincmari, “Opera Omnia,” in Migne, Patr. Lat., vol. cxxv, col. 7;
De devortio Lotharii et Tetbergæ.

[274] London, 1905, pp. xxiv, xxx.

[275] Ibn Kaldoun, in Notices et Ext. de MSS. de la Bib. Imp., vol.
xix, p. 221.

[276] See Barrett, “The Magus,” London, 1801, p. 135.

[277] Jâmi’s “Salamân and Absal,” trans. by Edward Fitzgerald, Boston,
1899, p. 84.

[278] Description of the Regalia of Scotland, by Sir Walter Scott,
Bart., Edinburgh, n. d., p. 13.

[279] Johannis Saresberensis, “Policraticus,” Lyon, 1513, fols. lxxvii,
verso, lxxviii, recto, lib. ii, cap. 28.

[280] Johannis Saresberensis, l. c., fol. lxxvi, recto, lib. ii, cap.
28.

[281] “The Hermetic and Alchemical writings of Aureolus Philippus
Theophrastus Bombast of Hohenheim, called Paracelsus the Great,” trans.
by Arthur Edward Waite, London, 1894, vol. i, p. 224.

[282] “Unterricht vom Gebrauch des Erdspiegels, 1658” (Aus dem
Kapuziner-Kloster in Immenstat. Eine Handschrift des Kapuziner-Paters
Franziscus Seraph. Heider daselbst); in “Handschriftlichen Schätze aus
Kloster Bibliotheken,” Köln am Rhein, 1734-1810 (reprint).

[283] Sloane MS. 3851, f. 50b.

[284] Jonson, “The Alchemist,” ed. Hathaway, New York, 1903, pp. 101,
145, note.

[285] Kiesewetter, “Faust in der Geschichte und Tradition,” Leipzig,
1893, p. 472.

[286] Kiesewetter, “Faust in der Geschichte und Tradition,” p. 473.

[287] Wieri, “De prestigiis demonum,” Basileæ, 1563, p. 121.

[288] “The Private Diary of Dr. John Dee,” ed. by Halliwell, London,
1842 (Camden Soc. Pub.), p. 9, note (“Compendious Memorial,” p. 516).

[289] A true and faithful Relation of what passed for Many Yeeres
between Dr. John Dee and Some Spirits. With preface by Meric. Casaubon,
London, 1659, p. 1.

[290] See B. M. Dalton’s notes in the Proceedings of the Society of
Antiquaries, 2d ser., vol. xxi, 380-383. Sloane MS. A. 3188.

[291] Casaubon’s “Relation,” p. 73.

[292] Rist, “Die Aller-Edelste Zeit-Verkürtung der ganzen Welt,”
Franckfurt on dem Mayn, 1668, p. 255.

[293] Butler, “Hudibras,” Part II, Canto III, 11, 235-8, and 631-4.
This second part was issued in 1663, four years after Casaubon’s
publication of Dee’s journal.

[294] Miscellanea graphica: Representations of Ancient Medieval and
Renaissance remains in the Possession of Lord Londesborough; introd. by
Thomas Wright, London, 1857, p. 81.

[295] Aubrey, “Miscellanies,” London, 1890, pp. 156, 157. (There is a
figure on p. 156.)

[296] Glanvil, “Saducismus Triumphatus,” London, 1726, p. 281.

[297] Aubrey, “Miscellanies,” London, 1890, p. 155.

[298] Carlyle, “Works,” Ashburton ed., vol. xvi, p. 509; from Vie
de Joseph Balsamo, traduite d’après l’original Italien, ch. ii, 111
(Paris, 1791).

[299] Kiesewetter, “Faust in der Geschichte und Tradition,” Leipzig,
1893, p. 476.

[300] George IV, cap. lxxxiii.

[301] Brinton, “Essays of an Americanist,” Philadelphia, 1890, p. 165.

[302] Burke, “The Medicine-men of the Apache,” Ninth Annual Report of
the Bureau of Ethnology, 1887-1888, Washington, 1892, p. 461.

[303] Fraser, “The Golden Bough,” pt. i, “The Magic Art,” vol. i,
London, 1911, p. 176.

[304] Lang, “The Making of Religion,” London, 1898, pp. 91-92.

[305] Thomas, “Crystal Gazing,” London, 1905, p. 48.

[306] Nuttall, “The Fundamental Principles of Old and New World
Civilization,” Cambridge, Mass., 1901, p. 80.

[307] Tcheraz, “Notes sur la mythologie Armenienne,” in Trans. of the
Ninth Cong. of Orient. (1892), London, 1893, vol. ii, p. 832.

[308] Tcheraz, l. c., p. 835.

[309] Proc. Soc. of Psych. Research, vol. viii, p. 470.

[310] Proc. of the Soc. for Psych. Research, vol. v, p. 507.

[311] Thomas, “Crystal Gazing,” London, 1908, Lang’s preface, pp. xi,
xii.

[312] Thomas, l. c., p. xxi.

[313] Proc. of the Soc. for Psych. Research, vol. viii, p. 473.

[314] Shepharial, “The Crystal and the Seer,” London [1900?], p. 14.

[315] John Melville, “Crystal Gazing,” London, 1910, pp. 20, 21.

[316] Shepharial, “The Crystal and the Seer,” London [1900?], pp. 11-13.

[317] Melville, “Crystal Gazing,” London, 1910, p. 47.

[318] Atkinson, “Practical Psychomancy and Crystal Gazing,” Chicago
[1908], p. 46.

[319] See Leadbeater, “The Astral Plane,” London, 1910, p. 14.

[320] Verner, “How to Know Your Future,” London [1910?], p. 16.

[321] See Hereward Carrington’s Correspondence Course of Instruction in
Psychic Development, Lesson 24, New York, 1912.

[322] Kunz, “The Occurrence and Manipulation of Rock Crystal,”
Scientific American, vol. lv, pp. 103, 104 (Aug. 14, 1886). Trans. N.
Y. Acad. Sciences, May 30, 1886.

[323] Kunz, “The Occurrence and Manipulation of Rock Crystal.”

[324] Gratacap, “The Mystic Crystal Sphere,” in the American Museum
Journal, January, 1913, p. 24; plate on p. 22.

[325] Montfaucon, Les monumens de la monarchie Française. Paris, 1729,
p. 15.

[326] Montfaucon, l. c.

[327] Cochet, “Le tombeau de Childeric Ier roi des Francs,” Paris,
1859, pp. 16 sqq.

[328] Cochet, op. cit., p. 305.

[329] Cochet, op. cit., p. 302; figure.

[330] Cochet, op. cit., p. 303, No. 1.

[331] Simon, “Observations sur les sépulchres antiques découverts dans
plusieures contrées des Gaules,” p. 5; pl. ii, fig. 14.

[332] See Wylie’s “Fairford Graves,” pl. iv, fig. 1, pl. v, fig 2;
Akerman’s “Remains of Pagan Saxondom,” Roach Smith’s “Collectanea
antiqua”; Douglas’ “Nenia Brittanica,” and Hillier’s “Antiquities of
the Isle of Wight.”

[333] Akerman, op. cit., p. 10.

[334] Journal of the Archæological Institute, vol. ix, p. 179.

[335] Akerman, op. cit., pp. 39, 40.

[336] Miscellanies upon various subjects, by John Aubrey, to which is
added “Hydrotaphia, or Urn Burial,” by Sir Thomas Browne, London, 1890,
p. 244; chap, ii.

[337] Lady Wilde, “Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of
Ireland,” Boston, 1888, p. 209.

[338] Life Work of Sir Peter le Page Renouf, Paris, 1907, vol. iv,
p. 342. In the vignette to chapter 93, to illustrate the protection
afforded, a buckle with human hands seizes the arm of the deceased and
prevents him from going toward the East, the inauspicious direction for
departed souls, pl. xxv (Papyrus, Louvre iii, 93).

[339] Budge, “The Mummy,” Cambridge, 1894, p. 259.

[340] Budge, “The Mummy,” Cambridge, 1894, p. 261.

[341] The deceased was identified with Osiris.

[342] Budge, “The Mummy,” Cambridge, 1894, p. 263.

[343] Birch, Catalogue of Egyptian Antiquities in Alnwick Castle,
London, 1880, p. 224.

[344] Pierret, “Le livre des Morts,” Paris, 1882, p. 138.

[345] “Life Work of Sir Peter le Page Renouf,” Paris, 1907, vol. iv, p.
76, note.

[346] Ibid., Paris, 1907, vol. iv, p. 295.

[347] Æliani, “Varia historia,” lib. xiv, cap. xxxiv, Lug. Bat., 1731,
Pars altera, p. 977.

[348] Fossey, “La Magie Assyrienne,” Paris, 1902, p. 301; see
Rawlinson, “Cun. insc. of West. Asia,” vol. iv, 18, No. 3.

[349] Delitzsch, “Assyrisches Wörterbuch,” Leipzig, 1896, p. 74, s. v.
_elmêshu_.

[350] Jensen, “Assyrisch-Babylonische Mythen und Epen,” Berlin, 1900.

[351] Ward, “Seal Cylinders of Western Asia,” Carnegie Institution
Pub., Washington, D. C., 1910, pp. 232, 234.

[352] For a fuller description of this valuable relic, and a discussion
of the meaning of the inscription, see “On the ancient inscribed
Sumerian (Babylonian) axe-head for the Morgan Collection in the
American Museum of Natural History,” by George Frederick Kunz, with
translation by Prof. Ira Maurice Price and discussion by Dr. William
Hayes Ward. Bulletin of the Museum, vol. xxi, pp. 37-47, April 6, 1905.

[353] Montfaucon, “L’antiquité expliquée,” vol. ii, Pt. II, 1719, pp.
324, 325; Plate 136.

[354] “The Questions of King Milinda,” tr. from the Pâli by T. W. Rhys
Davids, vol. ii, Oxford, 1894, p. 128.

[355] Buddha.

[356] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. II, Calcutta, 1881, pp.
715, 717.

[357] Buddhist Suttas, trans. from Pali by T. W. Rhys Davids; “Sacred
Books of the East,” vol. xi, Oxford, 1881.

[358] Lib. ii, cap. 11. Luciani Opera, ex recog. C. Jacobitz, vol. i,
Leipzig, 1884, p. 56.

[359] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. II, Calcutta, 1881, p. 79.

[360] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. II, Calcutta, 1881, pp.
645, 647.

[361] Heuen Tsang, “Mémoires sur les contrées occidentales,” French
trans. by Stanislas Julien, Paris, 1857, vol. i, p. 461.

[362] Gaina Sutras, trans. from Prakrit by Hermann Jacobi; “Sacred
Books of the East,” vol. xxii, Oxford, 1884, pp. 227, 233.

[363] Hendley, “Indian Jewellery,” London, 1909, p. 33.

[364] Hendley, “Indian Jewellery,” London, 1909, pp. 33, 34.

[365] Finot, “Les lapidaries indiens,” Paris, 1896, p. 175.

[366] Morales, “De las piedras preciosas,” Valladolid, 1604 (fol. 16
verso).

[367] Philostrati, “De Vita Apollonii,” lib. iii, cap. 36.

[368] Personal communication from Taw Sein Ko.

[369] The Bishop Collection: “Investigations and Studies in Jade,” New
York, 1906, vol. i, p. 54, The “Yushuo” of T’ang Jing-tso, trans. by
Stephen W. Bushnell.

[370] The Bishop Collection: “Investigations and Studies in Jade,” New
York, 1906, vol. i, p. 36.

[371] Kobert, “Ein Edelstein der Vorzeit,” Stuttgart, 1910, p. 26.

[372] Alfred Marston Tozzer, “Navajo Religious Ceremonials,” Putnam
Anniversary Volume, New York, 1909, pp. 323-326, 329, Plate II.

[373] Sahagun, “Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España,” Mexico,
1830, vol. iii, p. 297.

[374] Sahagun, l. c., 1829, vol. i, p. 18; lib. i, cap. xiii.

[375] Garcilasso de la Vega, “Histoire des Incas.” Fr. trans. by Jean
Baudoin, Amsterdam, 1715, vol. ii, pp. 255-257.

[376] Ibid., p. 347.

[377] “A Remarkable Jadeite Adze,” American Association for the
Advancement of Science. Kunz, “Gems and Precious Stones of North
America,” New York, 1890, pp. 278-280.

[378] “Nephrit und Jadite,” Stuttgart, 1880.

[379] The Bishop Collection, “Investigations and Studies in Jade,” New
York, 1906, vol. i, pt. iii, “Jade as a Mineral,” by George Frederick
Kunz, p. 177. This immense mass of nephrite which forms part of the
Heber Bishop Collection loan of jade is now in the American Museum of
Natural History, New York.

[380] Kunz, “Chalchiuitl: a note on the jadeite discussion,” Science,
vol. xii, No. 298.

[381] Gesneri, “De figuris lapidum,” Tiguri, 1565, fol. 107 verso, 108
recto.

[382] “De ornatu oris, nasi et aurium,” Gottingæ, 1832, p. 43.

[383] “Handbook of American Indians North of Mexico,” ed. by Frederick
Webb Hodge; Smithsonian Inst., Bur. of Am. Ethn. Bull. 30. Pt. I, p.
458; Washington, 1910.

[384] “Historia de las Indias,” in “Bib. de autores españoles,” vol.
xxii, Madrid, 1852, p. 202.

[385] Sahagun, “Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España,” Mexico,
1829, vol. ii, pp. 389-391, lib. ix, cap. xvii.

[386] Klot, “Ueber den Nützen und Gebrauch der alten geschnittenen
Steine,” Altenburg, 1768, p. 57.

[387] Erasmi Stellæ, “Interpretamentum Gemmarum,” 3d ed., Erfurti et
Lipsiæ, 1736, p. 27.

[388] Agricolæ, “De natura fossilium,” lib. vi, Basileæ, 1546, p. 289.

[389] Gesner, “De figuris lapidum,” Tiguri, 1565, ff. 112v, 113r.

[390] “Les six voyages de Jean Baptiste Tavernier,” La Haye, 1718, vol.
i, p. 48; Voyages en Perse, liv. i, chap. iv.

[391] José Ignacio Miró, “Estudio de las piedras preciosas,” Madrid,
1870, pp. 135, 136.

[392] Lassels, “The Voyage of Italy,” Paris, 1670, Pt. II, p. 344.

[393] Lassels, l. c., p. 339.

[394] Scotto, “Itinerario d’Italia,” Roma, 1747, p. 314.

[395] José Ignacio Miró, “Estudio de las piedras preciosas,” Madrid,
1870, pp. 136, 137, 229.

[396] Cartularium abbathiæ de Whiteby, Surtees Soc. Pub., vol. lxix,
pp. xvi-xx.

[397] Cardani, “De subtilitate,” lib. v, Basileæ, 1560, p. 370.

[398] Dr. Baelz, of the Imperial University of Tokyo, in Report of the
Smithsonian Institution for 1904, pp. 523-547.

[399] Mason, “Burmah, its People and Natural Productions,” Rangoon,
1860, pp. 109, 110.

[400] Narrative of the Embassy of Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo to the Court
of Timour, trans. by Clement R. Markham, London, 1859, p. 38, Hakluyt
Soc. Pub.

[401] Chiocci, “Museum Calceolarium,” Veronæ, 1622, p. 251.

[402] Kircher, “Mundus Subterraneus,” Amstelodami, 1665, p. 36; Tabula
IV, Fig. 6.

[403] Creuzer, “Antik geschnittene Steine vom Grabmahl der heiligen
Elizabeth,” Leipsic and Darmstadt, 1834, p. 25.

[404] Barbier de Montault, “Le Trésor de l’Abbaye de Sainte-Croix de
Poitier”; in Mém. de la Soc. d’Antiq. de l’Ouest, Sec. Ser., vol. lv,
1881, pp. 105, 106; Poitiers, 1882.

[405] Italian MS. of the fourteenth century in the author’s library;
fol. 41 b.

[406] Ravenshaw, “Antiente Epitaphs,” London, 1878, p. 110.

[407] Ravenshaw, “Antiente Epitaphs,” London, 1878, p. 113.

[408] See Audsley, “Handbook of Christian Symbolism,” London, 1865, pp.
135-137.

[409] Flavii Josephi, “De Antiq. Jud.,” lib. iii, cap. viii, 9; Opera,
ed. Dindorf, Parisiis, 1845, vol. i, pp. 100, 101.

[410] “Ant. Jud.,” lib. iii, cap. vii, 5, Flavii Josephi Opera,
Basileæ, 1544, p. 75.

[411] Sancti Patri Epiphanii, “De XII Gemmis,” Tiguri, 1566, ff. 12-14.
Edited by Conrad Gesner from a unique MS. in his possession.

[412] Ginsburg, “Legends of the Jews,” Eng. trans., Phila., 1909, vol.
i, p. 34.

[413] See J. L. Myers in the “Encyclopædia Biblica,” vol. iv, pp.
4799-4812.

[414] See Gimma, “Della storia naturale delle gemme,” Napoli, 1730,
vol. i, pp. 208, 209.

[415] Hommel, “Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung,” pp. 281, sqq.; Erman,
“Aegypten,” Tübingen, 1885, p. 402.

[416] Aureli Augustini, “Opera Omnia,” vol. iii, Part I, col. 637;
Patrologiæ Latinæ, ed. Migne, vol. xxxviii, Paris, 1864.

[417] “Natural History of Precious Stones,” London, 1870, p. 333.

[418] Procopius, ed. Dindorf, Bonnae. 1833, vol. i, p. 445; “De bello
Vandalico,” lib. ii, cap. 9.

[419] Procopius, ed. Dindorf, Bonnae, 1833, vol. i, p. 445; “De bello
Vandalico,” lib. ii, cap. 9.

[420] For an account of the immense booty taken by the Arabs, under
Sa’ad, on this occasion, see Rawlinson, “Seventh Great Oriental
Monarchy,” London, 1876, pp. 564-566. The total value has been placed
as high as $125,000,000.

[421] C. H. Emerson, “Psychocraft” [Portland, Me., 1911].

[422] “Der Midrasch Bemidbar Rabba,” German transl. by Dr. Aug.
Wünsche, Leipzig, 1885, pp. 15, 16. Parasha II. Of the _tarshish_ it
is said the color resembled that of “the costly stone with which women
adorn themselves,” possibly the pearl is signified. Hebrew text in
“Sepher Midrash Rabba,” Vilna, 1845, pt. iii, “Sepher Bemidbar,” p. 23.

[423] There are two evident transpositions in the text of Josephus
between the fifth and sixth and the eighth and ninth stones
respectively.

[424] Alford, “The Greek Testament,” vol. iv, Pt. 2, p. 594.

[425] Rabani Mauri, “Opera Omnia,” vol. v, col. 470. Patrologiæ Lat.,
vol. cxi, Parisiis, 1864.

[426] “New Edition of the Babylonian Talmud,” ed. and trans. by Michael
L. Rodkinson, vol. v (xiii), New York, 1902, p. 210. Baba Batra.

[427] Brückmann, “Abhandlung von Edelsteinen,” 2d ed., Braunschweig,
1773, p. 358.

[428] Flavii Josephi, ed. Dindorf, Parisii, 1847, vol. ii, p. 97;
“Antiq. Jud.,” lib. iii, cap. 7, paragraph 7. In the second century,
Clemens Alexandrinus (lib. v, cap. 6) repeats this idea of Josephus,
adding that the four rows in which the gems were disposed signified the
four seasons of the year.

[429] Sancti Hieronymi, “Opera Omnia,” ed. Migne, Parisiis, 1877, vol.
i, col. 616; Epistola lxiv, paragraph 16.

[430] Lücke, “Versuch einer Einleitung in die Offenbarung Johannes,”
Bonn, 1852, p. 964.

[431] Patrologiæ Græcæ, ed. Migne, vol. cvi, Parisiis, 1863, cols.
433-438.

[432] Georgius Vitringa, “Nauwkeurige onderzoek van de goddelyke
Openbaring der H. Apostels Johannes,” Dutch trans. of Latin by M.
Gargon, Amsterdam, 1728, vol. ii, p. 681.

[433] Sancti Patris Epiphanii episcopi Cypri ad Diodorum Tyri
episcopum, “De XII. Gemmis, quæ erant in veste Aaronis,” ed. Gesner,
Tiguri, 1565.

[434] Rabani Mauri, “Opera Omnia,” vol. v, col. 465; in Patrologiæ
Latinæ, ed. Migne, vol. xvi, Paris, 1864.

[435] Poujet fils, “Traité des pierres précieuses,” Paris, 1762, p. 4.

[436] Poujet fils, l. c.

[437] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. II, Calcutta, 1881, pp
619, 621.

[438] The star-sapphire has already been described on pp. 106, 107.

[439] Eliphas Lévi, “Rituel de la haute magie,” Paris, 1861.

[440] For this number, and for the succeeding multiples of thirteen,
the gem is believed to counteract the malign influence of the number.

[441] Wilhelmus Eo, “Coronæ Gemma Nobilissima,” Newheusern, 1621, pp.
38-9.

[442] Gaffarelli, “Curiositates inauditæ,” Hamburgi, 1706, pp. 146, 147.

[443] Schindler, “Der Aberglaube des Mittelalters,” Breslau, 1858, p.
131.

[444] Reichelti, “De amuletis,” Argentorati, 1676, p. 45; citing
Ficini, “De vita coelit.,” cap. 13.

[445] Mairan, “Lettres au R. P. Parrenin,” Paris, 1770, pp. 275 sqq.

[446] Mairan, l. c., pp. 199, 211.

[447] “Collection of Engraved Gems,” Metropolitan Museum of Art,
Handbook No. 9, pp. 53, 54.

[448] Garbe, “Die indische Mineralien,” Naharari’s Râjanighantu, Varga
XIII, Leipzig, 1882, p. 80.

[449] Garbe, “Die indische Mineralien,” Naharari’s Râjanighantu, Varga
XIII, Leipzig, 1882, p. 83.

[450] Garbe, “Die indische Mineralien,” Naharari’s Râjanighantu, Varga
XIII, Leipzig, 1882, p. 84.

[451] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. II, Calcutta, 1881, p.
883.

[452] Morales, “De las virtudes y propiedades marvillosas de las
piedras preciosas,” Valladolid, 1604, fols. 15a, 15b.

[453] Rantzau, “Tractatus de genethliacorum thematum judiciis,”
Francofurti, 1633, pp. 46-55.

[454] Lapidario del Rey D. Alfonso X; codice original, Madrid, 1881,
fols. 101-109.

[455] Lane, “Arabian Society in the Middle Ages,” ed. by Stanley
Lane-Poole, London, 1883, p. 98.

[456] Pantagruel, liv. v, chap. xlii, Paris, 1833, p. 341.

[457] Morales, “De las Piedras Preciosas,” Valladolid, 1604.

[458] Morales, “De las piedras preciosas,” Valladolid, 1604, pp.
16a-16b.

[459] Camilli Leonardi, “Speculum Lapidum,” Venetia, 1502, f. liv-lvi.

[460] Camilli Leonardi, “Speculum Lapidum,” Venetia, 1502, f. liii.

[461] Butler, “Hudibras,” Part II, Canto III, 11, 1096-1103.

[462] Artemidori Daldiani et Achametis Sereimi Oneirocritica, ed.
Regaltius, Lutetiæ, 1603, pp. 86, 87.

[463] Ibid., p. 228.

[464] Venice, 1602, p. 254.

[465] “The Hermetic and Alchemical writings of Aureolus Philippus
Theophrastus Bombast of Hohenheim, called Paracelsus the Great,” trans.
by Arthur Edward Waite, London, 1894, Vol. I, pp. 14, 225, Vol. II, p.
218.

[466] Plutarchi, “Vitæ,” ed. Sinteris, Lipsiæ, 1884, p. 339; Pericles,
38.

[467] Eusebii Pamphili, “De laudibus Constantini,” cap. v; in Eusebii,
“Opera Omnia,” ed. Migne, Parisiis, 1857, cols. 1337, 1340; Patrologiæ
Græcæ, vol. xx.

[468] The Travels of Sir Jerome Horsey, Hakluyt Society, London, 1856,
pp. 199, 200.

[469] The Fuggers of Augsburg, the jeweller bankers of the 15th and
16th centuries.

[470] Wolffii, “Curiosus amuletorum scrutator,” Francofurti et Lipsiæ,
1692, p. 363; citing Rodolphus Goclenius (De peste, p. 70).

[471] Olaus Borrichius, in the Collection Académique, Paris, 1757, tome
iv, p. 338.

[472] Lapidario del Rey D. Alfonso X, Codice Original, Madrid, 1881, f.
xi.

[473] “De lapidibus,” Friburgi, 1531, f. 8.

[474] New edition of the Babylonian Talmud, ed. and trans. by Michael
L. Rodkinson, vol. v (xiii), Baba Batra, New York, 1902, p. 53. See
also Beer, “Leben Abraham’s,” Leipzig, 1859, p. 79.

[475] Surindro Mohun Tagore, “Mani Málá,” Pt. I, Calcutta, 1879, pp.
137, 139, 141.

[476] Andrea Spigello, “De semitert.”; cited in Gimma, “Della Storia
naturale delle gemme,” Napoli, 1730, vol. i, p. 208.

[477] Raumer, “Historisches Taschenbuch,” I Ser., vol. vi, Leipzig,
1835, p. 370.

[478] Josephi Gonelli, “Thesaurus philosophicus, seu de gemmis,”
Neapoli, 1702, pp. 76, 77.

[479] Lapidario del Rey D. Alfonso X, Codice Original, Madrid, 1881, f.
xv.

[480] Marbodus, l. c., f. 48.

[481] Rueus, l. c., p. 36.

[482] Morales, “De las piedras preciosas,” Valladolid, 1604, f. 101.

[483] Andreæ Bacci, “De gemmis et lapidibus pretiosis,” Francofurti,
1603, pp. 63, 64 (annotation of Gabelchover to his Latin version).

[484] Plinii, “Naturalis historia,” lib. xxxvii, cap. 16.

[485] Psellus, “De lapidum virtutibus,” Lug. Bat., 1745, p. 32.

[486] Johannis Braunii, “De Vestitu sacerd. Heb.,” Amstel., 1680, p.
659.

[487] From an old book the title-page of which reads: “In hoc volumine
de Alchemia,” etc., Norimberghe, 1541, p. 363.

[488] Garbe, “Die indische Mineralien; Naharari’s Râjanighantu, Varga
xiii,” Leipzig, 1882, p. 76.

[489] Teifashi, “Fior di pensieri sulle pietre preziose,” Ital. trans.
by Antonio Raineri, Firenzi, 1818, p. 20.

[490] “The Discovery of the Large, Rich, and Beautiful Empire of
Guiana,” London, 1848, p. 29, Hakluyt Pub. Originally published in 1596.

[491] Lettres de Voiture, ed. by Octave Uzanne, Paris, 1880, vol. i, p.
66, Letter XXIII.

[492] Josephi Gonnelli, “Thesaurus philosophicus, seu de gemmis,”
Neapoli, 1702, pp. 157, 158.

[493] Claudii Galeni, “De simplic. medicament., etc.,” lib. ix, cap.
19. “Opera Omnia,” ed. C. G. Kühn, Lipsiæ, 1826, vol. xii, p. 207. See
also Duffield Osborne, “Engraved Gems,” New York, 1912, pp. 138, 139.

[494] Garbe, “Die indische Mineralien”; Naharari’s “Râjanighantu,”
Varga XIII, Leipzig, 1882, p. 70.

[495] The Vision of William Concerning Piers the Plowman, by William
Langley (or Langland). Ed. by Rev. Walter W. Skeat, Oxford, 1881, p.
16. Passus II, lines 8-15.

[496] Trimmed with fur.

[497] Handsomely.

[498] Adorned.

[499] Burning coal.

[500] Aquamarines.

[501] Poisons.

[502] Dugdale, “History of Saint Paul’s Cathedral in London,” London,
1818, vol. i, pp. 15, 16. First edition published in 1658.

[503] Alberti Magni, “Opera omnia,” ed. Borgnet, Paris, 1890, vol. v,
p. 44.

[504] Labarte, “Inventaire du mobilier de Charles V,” Paris, 1879, p.
308, No. 2937.

[505] “A Ternary of Paradoxes, written originally by Joh. Bapt.
Van Helmont and translated, illustrated, and amplicated by Walter
Charleton,” London, 1650, p. 17.

[506] S. Hildegardæ, “Opera omnia,” in Pat. Lat. ed. by J. P. Migne,
vol. cxcvii, Parisiis, 1855, col. 1255.

[507] Arnobio, “Il tesoro delle gioie,” Venice, 1602, p. 21.

[508] Bellucci, “Il feticismo in Italia,” Perugia, 1907, p. 91, note.

[509] Monardes, Semplicium medicamentorum ex novo orbe delatorum
historia (Latin version by Clusius), Antverpiæ, 1579, p. 51.

[510] Sahagun, “Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España,” vol.
iii. Mexico, 1830, pp. 300, 301; lib. xi, cap. viii.

DIAMONDS

DIAMONDS BY SIR WILLIAM CROOKES

PREFACE
The following pages are based on personal observations during two visits to Kimberley, in 1896 and 1905, and on personal researches on the formation and artificial production of diamonds. In 1896 I spent nearly a month at Kimberley, when Mr. Gardner F. Williams, the General Manager of the De Beers Consolidated Mines, and the managers of neighbouring mines, did their utmost to aid in my zealous quest for reliable information. They gave me free access to all workings above and below ground, allowed me to examine at leisure their stock and to take extracts from their books. I had exceptional opportunities of studying the geology of the Diamond and of noting the strange cataclysmal facts connected with the birth, growth, and physics of the lustrous stones. In 1905 with my wife I returned to Kimberley. We were members of the British Association which held its meeting that year in South Africa. I was asked to give one of the Association lectures at Kimberley and it was natural for me to discourse “On Diamonds.” During our stay we were the guests of Mr. Gardner Williams. Returning to England after the visit of 1896, I gave two lectures on Diamonds at the Imperial Institute and one at the Royal Institution. These lectures, and the lecture delivered at Kimberley, in 1905—hitherto only privately distributed—form the basis of the present volume. On each visit I took abundant photographs, many of which I now reproduce. A few are copied from plans lent by Mr. Gardner Williams and one or two are from photographs purchased at Kimberley. In obtaining statistical information of the Diamond industry, I owe much to the Annual Reports of the De Beers Company. I have also quoted freely from Reunart’s valuable book on Diamonds and Gold in South Africa; and I render my acknowledgments to the authors of the following papers and memoirs. On a Visit to the Diamond Fields of South Africa, with Notices of Geological Phenomena by the Wayside. By John Paterson, Esq., M.A. On the Mode of Occurrence of Diamonds in South Africa. By E. J. Dunn. On the Origin and Present Position of the Diamonds of South Africa. By G. G. Cooper, Esq., of Graaf Reinet. On the Character of the Diamantiferous Rock of South Africa. By Prof. N. Storey Maskelyne, F.R.S., Keeper, and Dr. W. Flight, Assistant in the Mineral Department, British Museum. Further Notes on the Diamond Fields of South Africa. By E. J. Dunn. Notes on the Diamond Fields of South Africa, 1880. By E. J. Dunn. Analogies between the Diamond Deposits in South Africa and those in Meteorites. B M. Daubrée. Notes on the Diamond-bearing Rock of Kimberley, South Africa. By Sir J. B. Stone, Prof. T. G. Bonney, and Miss Raisin. Notes on the Diamond Rock of South Africa. By W. H. Hudleston. The Parent Rock of the Diamond in South Africa. By the Reverend Professor T. G. Bonney. The Presidential Address, by Grove Carl Gilbert, to the Geological Society of Washington, on The Origin of Hypotheses. Illustrated by the Discussion of a Topographical Problem. 1896. Le Four Electrique. By Henri Moissan. 1897. The Diamond Mines of South Africa. By Mr. Gardner F. Williams. (In this publication the story of the rise and development of the industry is exhaustively narrated.) British Association, South African Meeting, 1896, Kimberley Handbook. The Meteor Crater of Canyon Diablo, Arizona; its History, Origin, and Associated Meteoric Irons. By George P. Merrill. 1908. In the present volume I have tried to give some idea of the underground wonders of the Kimberley mines. I have pictured the strenuous toil of the men who bring to the surface the buried treasures, and I have given some idea of the skill and ingenuity with which their labours are controlled. I have done my best to explain the fiery origin of the Diamond, and to describe the glowing, molten, subterranean furnaces where they first begin mysteriously to take shape. I have shown that a diamond is the outcome of a series of Titanic earth convulsions, and that these precious gems undergo cycles of fiery, strange, and potent vicissitudes before they can blaze on a ring or a tiara. I am glad to have paid these two visits to South Africa. I always recall with interest the dusky smiling natives at work and at play. I am glad to have seen that Arabian Nights vision, the strong-room of the De Beers Company. Above all, I have vividly graven on my heart the friendly welcome, and the innumerable acts of kindness shown us by our able, energetic, and enterprising Colonial fellow-countrymen.
W. C.
DIAMONDS
CHAPTER I
PRELIMINARY
From the earliest times the diamond has fascinated mankind. It has been a perennial puzzle—one of the “riddles of the painful earth.” It is recorded in Sprat’s History of the Royal Society (1667 that among the questions sent by order of the Society to Sir Philiberto Vernatti, Resident in Batavia, was one inquiring “Whether Diamonds grow again after three or four years in the same places where they have been digged out?” The answer sent back was, “Never, or at least as the memory of man can attain to.” In a lecture “On Diamonds,” fifty years ago,1 Professor Maskelyne said, “The diamond is a substance which transcends all others in certain properties to which it is indebted for its usefulness in the arts and its beauty as an ornament. Thus, on the one hand, it is the hardest substance found in nature or fashioned by art. Its reflecting power and refractive energy, on the other hand, exceed those of all other colourless bodies, while it yields to none in the perfection of its pellucidity.” He was constrained to add, “The formation of the diamond is an unsolved problem.” Diamonds are found in widely separated parts of the globe. In the United States they have been found in Arkansas, where the work of testing the deposits is now going on steadily and quietly. The general geology and petrography of the area and the weathering of the peridotite are described in a paper read before the American Institute of Mining Engineers by Messrs. Kunz and Washington. In tests made with a diamond drill the peridotite was proved to depths of 200 feet. The green and yellow grounds underlying the layer of black, sticky soil are found to extend down 40 feet in places, and are estimated to average 20 feet in depth over the area. The outcrop of the peridotite is estimated to cover about 40 acres, and may be larger. Some 540 diamonds have been found, with an aggregate of 200 carats. The largest stone weighs about 6.5 carats, though the average size compares favourably with the general run of most of the South African mines. There is a large proportion of white stones, many of which are free from flaws and are very brilliant. The genuineness of the occurrence of diamonds in their matrix is again proved, one stone having been found imbedded in the green ground at a depth of 15 feet. This peridotite has the form of a volcanic pipe, and therefore its outcrop is limited to one place. In California authentic finds of diamonds are recorded in Butte County, especially at Cherokee, above Orville. These diamonds, however, have come from alluvial deposits and have been found generally in washing for gold. As yet no authenticated discovery of diamond in its original matrix in California is recorded. In Brazil the diamond industry has been increasing of late years, and the old mines in the Diamantina country are being worked by American capital and by the American methods which have proved so successful at De Beers. It is estimated that the annual value of the diamonds exported from Brazil amounts to over £800,000, but it is impossible to arrive at accurate figures owing to the large quantities smuggled out of the country to avoid payment of the export tax. British Guiana produces a small quantity of diamonds, mostly, however, of small size. Between January and September, 1907, 1564 carats were exported. Indian diamonds chiefly come from the states of Panna, Charkhari, and Ajaigarh. In 1905 India exported 3059 carats, valued at £5160.
CAPE COLONY
It is a standing surprise to the watchful outsider how little attention is bestowed on some of our colonies. For instance, to the Cape Colony, comprising vast, varied, and productive regions, we have till recently manifested profound ignorance and consequent indifference. When the Cape Colony was first incorporated with the Empire, it was pronounced “a bauble, unworthy of thanks.” Yet before the Suez Canal and the Waghorn overland route to India, the Cape, as commanding our road to India, Australia, and China, had a special importance. Even now it presents an alternative route which under conceivable circumstances may be of capital moment. The high grounds above Cape Town are rich in medicinal health-giving waters. The districts where these springs occur are high-lying, free from malaria, and admirably adapted for the restoration of invalids. It needs only some distinguished power to set the fashion, some emperor, prince, or reigning beauty to take the baths and drink the waters, and the tide of tourists would carry prosperity to Aliwal North, Fraserburg, Cradock, and Fort Beaufort. South Africa, as I shall endeavour to show in detail, is the most important source of diamonds on the earth, and ranks with Australia and California as one of the three great gold-yielding regions. But the wealth of South Africa is not only in its gold and diamonds. The province of Natal contains more coal than Britain ever owned before a single bucket had been raised, and the beds extend over the Orange River Colony, whilst valuable iron ores exist also in large quantities. In the year 1896 I spent nearly a month at Kimberley. Mr. Gardner F. Williams, General Manager of the De Beers Consolidated Mines, and the Managers of neighbouring mines, did their utmost to assist me in my inquiries and to ply me with valuable information. I had full access to all the workings, above and below ground, and was able to examine at leisure their stock and take extracts from their books. Again, in the year 1905, I paid another visit to Kimberley as the guest of Mr. Gardner Williams on the occasion of the meeting of the British Association in South Africa.
RIVER WASHINGS
Besides the matrix mines, where the stones are found in pipes supposed to be of volcanic origin, the alluvial deposits on the Vaal River are of considerable importance. The terraces and gravels along the Vaal River for about 200 miles have been worked for diamonds, the deposits sometimes extending several miles on each side of the river, and varying from a few inches to 40 or 50 feet in thickness. The diamonds are found almost everywhere through the gravel deposit. Before describing the present mode of diamond extraction followed in the important mines, I will commence with these “River Washings,” where, in their primitive simplicity, can be seen the modes of work and the simple machinery long since discarded in the large centres of the industry. The drift or so-called “river washings” present a very interesting phase of diamond industry. The work is carried on in the primitive fashion adopted in the early days of diamond discovery, every man working on his own little claim, assisted by a few natives, and employing primitive machinery (Fig. 1). The chief centre of the Vaal River washings is about 30 miles to the north-west of Kimberley, at a place called Klipdam No. 2. There was originally a Klipdam a few miles further, and here the miners congregated, but the exhaustion of their claims made them migrate to others not far off and reported to be richer. Here, accordingly, they re-erected their iron houses and called it Klipdam No. 2. It is a mistake to speak of “river washings.” The diamantiferous deposits are not special to the old or recent river bed, but appear to be alluvial deposits spread over a large tract of country by the agency of water, which at some period of time subsequent to the filling up of the volcanic pipes planed off projecting kopjes from the surface of the country and scattered the debris broadcast over the land to the north-west of Kimberley. The larger diamonds and other heavy minerals would naturally seek the lowest places, corresponding with the river bed, past and present. The fact that no diamonds are found in the alluvial deposits near Kimberley may perhaps be explained by supposing that the first rush was sufficiently strong to carry the debris past without deposition, and that deposition occurred when the stream slackened speed. At Klipdam No. 2 the diamantiferous earth is remarkably like river gravel, of a strong red colour—quite different from the Kimberley blue groundand forms a layer from I to 8 feet thick, lying over a “hard pan” of amygdaloidal trap, the melaphyre of the Kimberley mines. When I was at Klipdam the miners had congregated at a spot called “New Rush,” where some good finds of diamonds had been reported. The gravel is dug and put into a machine resembling the gold miner’s dolly, where it is rocked and stirred by rakes, with a current of water flowing over it. Here all the fine stuff is washed away and a rough kind of concentration effected. The residual gravel is put on a table and sorted for diamonds—an operation performed by the master. At one of the claims where work was proceeding vigorously I asked the proprietor to let me be present at the sorting out, as I should like to see river diamonds. He willingly consented, but no diamonds were to be found. On my expressing regret, he said he had not seen a diamond for a fortnight! I remarked that the prospect was rather a poor one, but he told me that a fortnight before he picked out one worth £300, “and that,” he said, “will pay for several weeks’ wages of my boys.” This is the kind of speculative gambling that goes on at the river diggings. The miner may toil fruitlessly for months, and then come across a pocket of stones, where they have been swept by some eddy, by which he will net several thousands. Diamonds from the “river washings” are of all kinds, as if contributed by every mine in the neighbourhood. They are much rolled and etched, and contain a good proportion of first-class stones; they are of very good quality, as if only the better and larger stones had survived the ordeal of knocking about. Diamonds from the drift fetch about 40 per cent more than those from Kimberley; taking the yield of the Kimberley and De Beers mines as worth all round, large and small, 26s. 6d. a carat, those from the drift are worth 40s. As a rule the better class of natives the Zulus, Matabeles, Basutos, and Bechuanas—when well treated, are very honest and loyal to their masters. An amusing instance of the devotion of a Zulu came to my knowledge at Klipdam. He had been superintending a gang of natives on a small claim at the river washings. It yielded but few stones, and the owner—my informantsold the claim, handing over the plant and small staff, our friend the Zulu remaining to look after the business till the new owner took possession. In the course of a few months the purchaser became dissatisfied with his bargain, not a single diamond having turned up since the transfer. One night the Zulu came to his old master in a mysterious manner, and laying a handful of diamonds on the table, said, “There, Baas, are your diamonds; I was not going to let the new man have any of them!”
CHAPTER II
KIMBERLEY AND ITS DIAMOND MINES
The famous diamond mines in the neighbourhood are Kimberley, De Beers, Dutoitspan, Bultfontein, and Wesselton (Fig. 2). They are situated in latitude 28° 43’ South and longitude 24° 46’ East. Kimberley is practically in the centre of the present diamond-producing area. Besides these mines others of some importance of the Orange River Colony are known as Jaggersfontein and Koffyfontein, Lace, and Monastery, besides two new mines, the RobertsVictor and the Voorspoed. The areas of the mines are :
Kimberley . . . . . . . . . 33 acres
De Beers . . . . . . . . . 22 acres
Dutoitspan . . . . . . . . . 45 acres
Bultfontein . . . . . . . . . 36 acres
In 1907 the total number of carats raised from these mines was more than two million and a half, the sales of which realised £6,452,597. The most important mine outside the Kimberley group is the new Premier Mine, about 20 miles West-North-West of Pretoria, where the famous Cullinan diamond was found. Other diamond mines are the Frank Smith, Wesselton, the Kamfersdam, the Kimberley West, the Newlands, and the Leicester Mine. The surface of the country round Kimberley is covered with a ferruginous red, adhesive, sandy soil, which makes horse traffic very heavy. Below the red soil is a basalt, much decomposed and highly ferruginous, from 20 to 9o feet thick, and lower still from 200 to 250 feet of black slaty shale containing carbon and iron pyrites. These are known as the Kimberley shales; they are very combustible, and in a part of the De Beers Mine where they were accidentally fired they smouldered for over eighteen months. Then follows a bed of conglomerate about 1o feet thick, and below the conglomerate about 400 feet of a hard, compact rock of an olive colour, called “Melaphyre,” or olivine diabase. Below the melaphyre is a hard quartzite about 400 feet thick. The strata are almost horizontal, dipping slightly to the north; in places they are distorted and broken through by protruding dykes of trap. There is no water nearer than the Vaal River, about 14 miles away, and formerly the miners were dependent on rain-water and a few springs and pools. Now, however, a constant and abundant supply of excellent water is served to the town. whilst good brick houses, with gardens and orchards, spring up on all sides. To mark the rate of progress, Kimberley has an excellent club and one of the best public libraries in South Africa. Parts of the town, affectionately called “the camp” by the older inhabitants, are not beyond the galvanised iron stage, and the general appearance is unlovely and depressing. Reunert reckons that over a million trees have been cut down to supply timber for the mines, and the whole country within a radius of 100 miles has been denuded of wood with the most injurious effects on the climate. The extreme dryness of the air, and the absence of trees to break the force of the wind and temper the heat of the sun, probably account for the dust storms so frequent in summer. The temperature in the day frequently rises to 100° in the shade, but in so dry a climate this is not unpleasant, and I felt less oppressed by this heat than I did in London the previous September. Moreover, in Kimberley, owing to the high altitude, the nights are always cool. The approach to Kimberley is deadly dull. The country is almost treeless, and the bare veldt stretches its level length, relieved only by distant hills on the horizon.
THE PIPES OR CRATERS
The five diamond mines or craters are all contained in a circle 31/2 miles in diameter. They are irregularly shaped round or oval pipes, extending vertically downwards to an unknown depth, retaining about the same diameter throughout (Fig. 3). They are said to be volcanic necks, filled from below with a heterogeneous mixture of fragments of the surrounding rocks, and of older rocks such as granite, mingled and cemented with a bluish-coloured, hard clayey mass, in which famous blue clay the imbedded diamonds are hidden. The craters or mines are situate in depressions, which have no outlets for the water which falls upon the neighbouring hills. The watersheds of these hills drain into ponds, called pans or vleis. The water, which accumulates in these ponds during the rainy season, evaporates during the dry months, only one of them holding water throughout the dry season. The rocks which surround the craters are capped by red soil or calcareous tufa, and in places by both, the red soil covering the tufa. The diamantiferous breccia filling the mines, usually called “blue ground,” is a collection of fragments of shale, various eruptive rocks, boulders, and crystals of many kinds of minerals. Indeed, a more heterogeneous mixture can hardly be found anywhere else on this globe. The ground mass is of a bluish green, soapy to the touch and friable, especially after exposure to the weather. Professor Maskelyne considers it to be a hydrated bronzite with a little serpentine. The Kimberley mine is filled for the first 70 or 80 feet with what is called “yellow ground,” and below that with “blue ground” (Fig. 4). This superposed yellow on blue is common to all the mines. The blue is the unaltered ground, and owes its colour chiefly to the presence of lower oxides of iron. When atmospheric influences have access to the iron it is peroxidised and the ground assumes a yellow colour. The thickness of yellow earth in the mines is therefore a measure of the depth of penetration of air and moisture. The colour does not affect the yield of diamonds. Besides diamonds, there have been detected more than eighty species of minerals in the blue ground, the more common being magnetite, ilmenite, garnet, bright green ferriferous enstatite (bronzite), a hornblendic mineral closely resembling smaragdite, calc-spar, vermiculite, diallage, jeffreysite, mica, kyanite, augite, peridot, eclogite, iron pyrites, wollastonite, vaalite, zircon, chrome iron, rutile, corundum, apatite, olivine, sahlite, chromite, pseudobrookite, perofskite, biotite, and quartz. The blue ground does not show any signs of passing through great heat, as the fragments in the breccia are not fused at the edges. The eruptive force was probably steam or water-gas, acting under great pressure, but at no high temperature. According to Mr. Dunn, in the Kimberley Mine, at a depth of 120 feet, several small fresh-water shells were discovered in what appeared to be undisturbed material. A selection of thin sections of some of these rocks and minerals, mounted as microscopic objects and viewed by polarised light, are not only of interest to the geologist, but are objects of great beauty. The appearance of shale and fragments of other rocks testify that the mélange has suffered no great heat in its present condition, and that it has been erupted from great depths by the agency of water vapour or some similar gas. The rock outside the pipes and encasing them is called “reef.” Inside some of the mines occur large masses of “floating reef,” covering an area of several thousand square feet. In the De Beers Mine is what is called “the snake,” a dyke of igneous rock taking a serpentine course across the mine, and standing like a vein nearly vertical, varying in thickness from 2 to 7 feet. The main body of the blue ground is entirely analogous to the snake rock, naturally more decomposed, but in essential points the microscopic appearance of the blue ground and of the “snake” is in an extraordinary degree alike. Mr. Gardner Williams supposes that the “snake” is a younger eruptive formation coming from the same volcanic source as the blue ground. No diamonds have been found either in the “snake” or the floating reef. The ground, however, is generally richer in diamonds in the neighbourhood of the floating reef. Before the discovery of the mines there was nothing in the superficial appearance of the ground to indicate the treasures below. Since the volcanic ducts were filled with the diamantiferous ground, denudation has planed the surface and the upper parts of the craters, and other ordinary signs of volcanic activity being smoothed away, the superficial and ubiquitous red sand covered the whole surface. The Kimberley Mine seems to have presented a slight elevation above the surrounding flat country, while the sites of other mines were level or even slightly depressed. The Wesselton Mine, within a mile of Dutoitspan, has only been discovered a few years. It showed a slight depression on the surface, which had been used as a shoot for dry rubbish. There are other diamantiferous pipes in the neighbourhood, but they are small and do not contain stones in payable quantities. More recently another diamantiferous pipe has been discovered about 40 miles off, near Klipdam, and is now worked as the Leicester Mine. Other hoards of diamonds may also be near; where there are no surface signs, and the pipe itself is hidden under 10 or 20 feet of recent deposits, it is impossible to prospect the entire country. Accident has hitherto been the chief factor in the discovery of diamond mines. How the great pipes were originally formed is hard to say. They were certainly not burst through in the ordinary manner of volcanic eruption, since the surrounding and enclosing walls show no signs of igneous action, and are not shattered or broken up even when touching the “blue ground.” It is pretty certain these pipes were filled from below after they were pierced and the diamonds were formed at some previous time and mixed with a mud volcano, together with all kinds of debris eroded from the rocks through which it erupted. The direction of flow is seen in the upturned edges of some of the strata of shale in the walls, although I was unable to see any upturning in most parts of the walls of the De Beers Mine at great depths.
THE KIMBERLEY MINE IN OLD DAYS
According to Mr. Paterson, who examined the diamond fields of Kimberley “Wherever the soon after their discovery, diamond is obtained perfect in form and smooth in finest smoothness of surface, without depression, hump, or twist of any kind, such diamonds were ever found in their own little moulds of finest limey stuff,2 and as if such mould of lime had been a necessity to their perfect formation. And further, where the splinters of diamonds, or boarty stuff, were chiefly met by the diggers, there was much less presence of limey matter in the claim at the section of it where such broken or fragmentary diamonds were found; and that chiefly from among what the diggers termed ‘clay-ballast,’ or ‘burnt brick,’ were unearthed the bits or undeveloped crystals so plentiful at New Rush.”3 In the first days of diamond mining there was no idea that diamantiferous earth extended to any particular depth, and miners were allowed to dig holes at haphazard and prospect where they liked. When the Kimberley Mine was discovered à new arrangement was made, and in July, 1871, it was cut up into about 500 claims, each 31 feet square, with spaces reserved for about fifteen roadways across the mine. No person at first could hold more than two claims—a rule afterwards modified. The following quotation from a description of a visit to Kimberley in 1872, by Mr. Paterson, taken from a paper read by him to the Geologists’ Association, gives a graphic picture of the early days of the Kimberley Mine: The New Rush diggings (as the Kimberley Mine was at first called) are all going forward in an oval space enclosed around by the trap dyke, and of which the larger diameter is about 1000 feet, while the shorter is not more than 700 feet in length. Here all the claims of 31 feet square each are marked out with roadways of about 12 feet in width, occurring every 60 feet. Upon these roadways, by the side of a short pole fixed into the roadway, sits the owner of the claim with watchful eye upon the Kafir diggers below, who fill and hoist, by means of a pulley fixed to the pole above, bucketful after bucketful of the picked marl stuff in which the diamonds are found. “Many of the claims are already sunk to a depth of 100 feet, and still the diamonds continue to be found as plentifully as ever. From the roadway above the marl is carted away to the sorting-tables, outside the range of the diggings, among mounds of marl stuff which seem like little hills. Here, amidst such whirls of dust as are nowhere else seen, the marl stuff is pounded, sifted from the finest powder of lime and clay, and from the residue put on the sorting-tables, the diggers, with a piece of zinc 9 inches long by 4 inches in breadth, search out in the successive layers taken from the heap the precious gems. I need not tell you that the search is by no means very perfect, or that perhaps as many diamonds escape the digger’s eye as are discovered and taken out by him, but you will perhaps confess with me that their aptness in picking out the diamonds is by no means to be despised, when I tell you that in one six months from the date of opening New Rush diggings, little short of a million sterling in diamonds has been extracted from them. At close of day the diggers take daily stock of their finds, and between five and six o’clock in the afternoon are to be seen hundreds and hundreds moving through the main street of New Rush on visits to the tents of the buyers, seated behind their little green baize tables, with scales all ready, and bags of gold and silver and piles of banknotes, to buy the little gems.” It may help to realise the enormous value of the Kimberley Mine if I say that two claims, measuring together 62 by 31 feet and worked to a depth of 150 feet, yielded 28,000 carats of diamonds. The roadways across the mine soon, however, became unsafe. Claims were sunk 100 or 200 feet each side of a roadway, and the temptation to undermine roadways was not always resisted. Falls of road frequently took place, followed by complete collapse, burying mine and claims in ruin. At that time there were probably 12,000 or 15,000 men at work in the mine, and then came the difficulty how to continue working the host of separate claims without interference with each other. A system of rope haulage was adopted. The following description of the work at the Kimberley Mine at this stage of its history is given by Mr. Reunert:4 “A succession of tall, massive timber stagings was erected round the margin of the mine. Each staging carried two or three platforms one above the other, every platform serving as an independent level from which to communicate with the claims below. Stationary ropes were then stretched from the different levels of the stagings to the claims, the ropes being anchored to the ground at both ends : the upper platforms communicated with the claims in the centre of the mine, the lower platforms with those nearer the margin. The hauling ropes were attached to wind lasses worked by Kafirs on the several platforms, on which grooved guide wheels for the ropes were also fixed, the buckets being swung from the stationary ropes by little overhead runners and crooks. Arrived at the level of the platform the bucket was tipped into a narrow shoot, down which the ground ran into a bag held ready to receive it, in which it was conveyed away to be sorted. The din and rattle of these thousands of wheels and the twang of the buckets along the ropes were something deafening, while the mine itself seemed almost darkened by the thick cobweb of ropes, so numerous as to appear almost touching. This mode of haulage continued in vogue during the whole of 1873, and if the appearance of the mine was less picturesque than when the roadways existed, it was, if anything, more unique. By moonlight, particularly, it was a weird and beautiful sight.” The mine was now threatened in two other quarters. The removal of the blue ground took away the support from the walls of the pipe, and frequent falls of reef occurred, not only covering up valuable claims with rubbish, but endangering the lives of workers below. Moreover, as the workings deepened, water made its appearance, necessitating pumping. In 1878 one quarter of the claims were covered by reef, and in 1879 over £300,000 were spent on removing reef and water. In 1881 over £200,000 were thus spent, and in 1882 more than half a million sterling was needed to defray the cost of reef removal. So matters went on until four million cubic yards of reef had been removed, at a cost of two millions sterling, and still little good was done, for out of 400 claims in the mine only about fifty could be regularly worked. Ultimately, in November, 1883, the biggest fall of reef on record took place, estimated at 250,000 cubic yards, surging half across the mine, where the bulk of it lies to this day. It became evident that open workings could not be carried on at such depths, and after many experiments the present system of underground working was devised. During this time of perplexity, individual miners who could easily have worked one or two claims near the surface could not continue work in the face of harassing difficulties and heavy expenses. Thus the claims gradually changed hands until the mine became the property first of a comparatively small number of capitalists, then of a smaller number of limited liability companies, until finally the whole of the mines have practically become the property of the “De Beers Consolidated Mines, Limited.”
CHAPTER III
KIMBERLEY MINES AT THE PRESENT DAY
The De Beers Consolidated Mines, Limited, was founded in 1888, mainly through the genius of the late Cecil John Rhodes, for the purpose of acquiring all important diamond-mining interests in the Kimberley area and thereby controlling the output. The two richest mines, Kimberley and De Beers, have been actively worked ever since, and have been the main contributors to an output which now realises over five millions sterling annually. Dutoitspan Mine was completely closed down, and practically the whole of Bultfontein was kept idle for many years, but with a view to the requirements of the future and the marked increase in the demand for diamonds, notwithstanding the steady rise in prices that has taken place, both these mines have now been equipped for underground working on a grand scale. The youngest of the De Beers group of mines is the Wesselton, which was discovered in 1890 by the late Mr. H. A. Ward, and soon afterwards purchased by Mr. Rhodes on behalf of the Company. The mine is now being worked opencast on a magnificent scale and has largely exceeded original expectations (Fig. 5). The success of the consolidation is proved by the fact that since it was brought about £22,000,000 have been paid in dividends to the shareholders, and it is roughly estimated that 40,000,000 carats of diamonds have been produced of a total value of eighty millions. At the four mines about 8000 persons are daily employed, namely, 1500 whites and 6500 blacks. The wages are, whites, £5 or £6 a week; blacks, underground, 4s. to 5s. a day, and aboveground, 21s. a week.
THE COMPOUND SYSTEM
With gems like diamonds, where so large an intrinsic value is concentrated into so small a bulk, it is not surprising that robbery has to be guarded against in the most elaborate manner. The Illicit Diamond Buying (I.D.B.) laws are very stringent, and the searching, rendered easy by the “compounding” of the natives—which I shall describe presently—is of the most drastic character (Fig. 6). It is, in fact, very difficult for a native employee to steal diamonds; even were he to succeed, it would be almost impossible to dispose of them, as a potential buyer would prefer to secure the safe reward for detecting a theft rather than run the serious risk of doing convict work on the Cape Town Breakwater for a couple of years. I heard of a native who, secreting a diamond worth several hundreds of pounds, after trying unsuccessfully to sell it, handed it back to the manager of his compound, glad to get the sixpence a carat to which he was entitled. Before the passing of the “Diamond Trade Act” the value of diamonds stolen reached nearly one million sterling per annum. A “compound” is a large enclosure about 20 acres in extent, surrounded by rows of one-story buildings of corrugated iron. These are divided into rooms holding each about twenty natives. A high iron fence is erected around the compound, 1o feet from the buildings. Within the enclosure is a store where the necessaries of life are supplied to the natives at a reduced price, wood and water being provided free of charge. In the middle is a large swimming-bath, with fresh water running through it. The rest of the space is devoted to recreation, games, dances, concerts, and any other amusement the native mind can desire. I have to thank the superintendents of the respective compounds, who spoke all the native dialects, for their kindness in showing us round, and suggesting dances and concerts, got up at ten minutes’ notice, for the benefit of my camera. The dancing was more of the character of attitudinising and marching to a monotonous tum-tum, the “orchestra” consisting of various-sized drums and what they call a piano—an octave or so of tuned slabs of wood held in order on stretched strings and struck with a wooden hammer. The native music as a rule is only marking time, but I have heard musical melodies accompanying some of their songs. In case of accident or illness there is a well-appointed hospital where the sick are tended. Medical supervision, nurses, and food are supplied free by the Company. In the compound are to be seen representatives of nearly all the picked types of African tribes. Each tribe keeps to itself, and to go round the buildings skirting the compound is an admirable object-lesson in ethnology. At one point is a group of Zulus; next we come to Fingoes; then Basutos; beyond come Matabele, Bechuanas, Pondos, Shangains, Swazis, and other less-known tribes, either grouped or wandering around making friendly calls. The clothing in the compound is diverse and original. Some of the men are evident dandies, whilst others think that in so hot a climate a bright-coloured handkerchief or a “pair of spectacles and a smile” is as great a compliance with the conventions of civilisation as can be expected. The natives are not interfered with in their various amusements, always provided they do not make themselves objectionable to their neighbours. They soon learn that tribal animosities are to be left outside the compound. One Sunday afternoon my wife and I walked unattended about the compound, almost the only whites present among 1700 natives. The manners of the fold were so friendly, and their smiles so cordial, that the idea of fear vanished. At one part a Kafir was making a pair of trousers with a bright nickel-plated sewing. machine, in which he had invested his savings; next to him a “boy” was reading from the Testament in his own language to an attentive audience; in a corner a party were engaged in cooking a savoury mess in an iron pot; further on the orchestra was tuning up and Zulus were putting the finishing touches to their toilet of feathers and beads. One group was intently watching a mysterious game. It is played by two sides, with stones and grooves and hollows in the ground, and appears of most absorbing interest. It seems to be universal throughout Africa; it is met with among the ruins of Zimbabwe, and signs of it are I recorded on old Egyptian monuments. wanted to learn it, and an intelligent Zulu player offered to teach it to me in a few minutes. Captain Dallas, however, with a more accurate opinion of my intelligence than my friend the Zulu, assured me it would take months before I could begin to know anything about it. He had tried for years and could make nothing of it. They get good wages, varying according to occupation. The work is appreciated, and there are always more applicants than can be accepted. On entering, the restrictions to which they must submit are fully explained, and they are required to sign for three months at least, during which time they must not leave the compound or mine. A covered way and tunnel lead the workers underground to the down shaft, while those working on the depositing floors go and come under guard. It is seldom that a man does not return once he has lived the life in the compound; some come again and again for years, only leaving occasionally to spend accumulated savings. The most careful men save money, and carry it at intervals to the superintendent to keep for them. Occasionally they ask to look at their savings, which may amount to £30 or £40, accumulated by driblets. They are ignorant of savings banks or interest, and are content if they see their own money in the original rags and papers. The Kafir, on demand, must behold his coins just as he handed them in, wrappings and all. Sometimes the superintendent will have as much as £1000 of savings in his care. On leaving, the men generally draw all their savings, and it is not uncommon for a grateful Kafir to press £2 or £3 on Captain Dallas in recognition of his trouble. They are astonished when their offerings are declined; still more so when it is explained that if they would put their savings in a bank they would have a few extra pounds given to them for the privilege of taking care of it. A shrewd young Pondo, who had been coming year after year, applied for some of his savings, and gave as a reason that he wanted to buy a wife. “But you said the same thing last year,” replied Captain Dallas; “I hope nothing has happened.” “No,” said the man; “one wife, she quarrel with me; two wives, they quarrel with each other; me peace!”
UNDERGROUND WORKINGS
In the face of constant developments I can only describe the system in use at the time of my own visits in 1896 and 1905. Shafts are sunk in the solid rock at a sufficient distance from the pipe to be safe against reef movements in the open mine. In 1903 the rock shafts in the De Beers and Kimberley Mines reached depths of 2076 Tunnels are and 2599 feet respectively. driven from these shafts at different levels, about 120 feet apart, to cross the mine from west to east. These tunnels are connected by two other tunnels running north and south, one near the west side of the mine and one midway between it and the east margin of the mine. From the east and west tunnels offsets are driven to the surrounding rock. When near the rock the offsets widen into galleries, these in turn being stoped on the sides until they meet, and upwards until they break through the blue ground. The fallen reef with which the upper part of the mine is filled sinks and partially fills the open space. The workmen then stand on the fallen reef and drill the blue ground overhead, and as the roof is blasted back the debris follows. When stoping between two tunnels the blue is stoped up to the debris about midway between the two tunnels. The upper levels are worked back in advance of the lower levels, and the works assume the shape of irregular terraces. The main levels are from 90 to 120 feet apart, with intermediate levels every 30 feet. Hoisting is done from only one level at a time through the same shaft. By this ingenious method every portion of blue ground is excavated and raised to the surface, the rubbish on the top gradually sinking and taking its place. The scene below ground in the labyrinth of galleries is bewildering in its complexity, and very unlike the popular notion of a diamond mine (Fig. 7). All below is dirt, mud, grime; half-naked men, dark as mahogany, lithe as athletes, dripping with perspiration, are seen in every direction, hammering, picking, shovelling, wheeling the trucks to and fro, keeping up a weird chant which rises in force and rhythm when a greater task calls for excessive muscular strain. The whole scene is more suggestive of a coal mine than a diamond mine, and all this mighty organisation, this strenuous expenditure of energy, this costly machinery, this ceaseless toil of skilled and black labour, goes on day and night, just to win a few stones wherewith to deck my lady’s finger! All to gratify the vanity of woman! “And,” interposed a lady who heard this remark, “the depravity of man!”
THE DEPOSITING FLOORS
Owing to the refractory character of blue ground fresh from the mines, it has to be exposed to atmospheric influences before it will pulverise under the action of water and mechanical treatment. From the surface-boxes, into which the blue ground is tipped when it reaches the top of the main shaft, it is transferred to side-tipping trucks and sent to the depositing floors by means of endless wire-rope haulage. The speed of the haulage varies from 21/2 to 4 miles per hour. The trucks are counted automatically as they are sent to the floor by a reciprocating engine counter placed on a frame near the tramline. The depositing floors are prepared by removing the bush and grass from a fairly level piece of ground; this ground is then rolled smooth and hard. The floors extend over many square miles of country and are surrounded by 7-foot barbed wire fences, vigilantly guarded day and night. The De Beers floors, on Kenilworth, are laid off in rectangular sections 600 yards long and 200 yards wide, each section holding about 50,000 loads. The ground from the Kimberley Mine is the softest and only needs a few months’ exposure on the floors; the ground from De Beers is much harder and requires at least six months’ exposure, while some ground is so hard that it will not disintegrate by exposure to the weather under one or two years. The De Beers Mine contains a much larger quantity of this hard blue ground than the other mines, and in order to save the loss of time consequent on keeping an enormous stock of blue constantly on the floors, it has recently been decided to pass the harder and more refractory stuff direct from the mine through crushing mills. For a time the blue ground remains on the floors without undergoing much alteration. But soon the heat of the sun and moisture produce a wonderful effect. Large pieces, hard as ordinary sandstone when taken from the mine, commence to crumble. At this stage the winning of the diamonds assumes more the nature of farming than mining. The ground is frequently harrowed and occasionally watered, to assist pulverisation by exposing the larger pieces to atmospheric influences. The length of time necessary for the ground to weather before it becomes sufficiently pulverised for washing depends on the season of the year and the amount of rain. The longer the ground remains exposed the better it is for washing. It is curious to note that there is a marked difference in the rapidity of disintegration of the blue ground in each of the four mines. The longer the exposure, the more complete the pulverisation and the better for washing. Under normal conditions soft blue ground becomes sufficiently pulverised in from four to six months, but it is better to expose it for a longer period, even for a whole year.
WASHING AND CONCENTRATING MACHINERY
After the blue ground has been weathered for a sufficient time, it is again loaded into trucks and hauled to the crushing machinery (Fig. 8). The first or “comet” crushers reduce the ground so that it will pass into. hoppers and thence into revolving cylinders covered with perforated steel plates, having holes 11/4 inches in diameter which separate the finely crushed from the coarse pieces. Pieces larger than 11/4 inches pass out of the end of the cylinders and fall upon a conveyor belt, which takes them to the end of the machine—these pieces are mostly waste rock which is found in the blue ground. The fine ground which passes through the holes in the cylinder, together with a plentiful current of water, flows into the washing pans. These pans are of iron, 14 feet in diameter, furnished with ten arms each having six or seven teeth. The teeth are so set as to form a spiral, so that when the arms revolve the teeth carry the heavy deposit to the outer rim of the pan, while the lighter material passes towards the centre and is carried from the pan by the flow of water. The heavy deposit contains the diamonds. It remains on the bottom of the pan and near its outer rim. This deposit is drawn off every twelve hours by means of a broad slot in the bottom of the pan. The average quantity of blue ground passed through each pan is from 400 to 450 loads in ten hours. The deposit left in each pan after putting the above number of loads through amounts to three or four loads, which go to the pulsator for further concentration. About 14 per cent of all the ground sent to the depositing floors is too hard to weather, so of late years crushing and concentrating plant has been erected to deal effectually with the hard lumps, thus saving the great lock-up of capital consequent on letting them lie on the floor a year or two. The hard lumps being hauled to the upper part of the machine, are tipped into bins, whence they pass to crushing rollers which so reduce them that they will pass through a ring two inches in diameter. The coarse powder is screened through revolving cylinders having 1/2-inch and 1/4-inch perforations. The stuff passing through the finer holes goes to the finishing mill, while the coarser stuff goes to smaller crushers. Before the coarse lumps are re-crushed they pass over revolving picking tables, where any specially large diamonds are rescued, thus preventing the risk of breakage. From the picking tables the ground is scraped automatically into two sets of rolls, and the pulverised product screened again and graded into three sizes. The finest size, passing a 1/2-inch screen, goes to the washing pans, and the two coarser sizes to jigs. Large diamonds which have been separated from their envelope of blue are retained in the jig. The ground still holding the smaller diamonds passes out of the end of the jig and then through a series of rolls, screens, and jigs until the diamantiferous gravel is drawn from the bottom jigs into locked trucks running on tramways to the pulsator for further concentration and sorting. The pulsator is an ingeniously designed but somewhat complicated machine for dealing with the diamantiferous gravel already reduced one hundred times from the blue ground, the pulsator still further concentrating it till the gravel is rich enough to enable the stones to be picked out by hand. The value of the diamonds in a load of original blue ground being about 30s., the gravel sent to the pulsator from the pans, reduced a hundredfold, is worth £150 a load. Stuff of this value must not be exposed to risk of peculation. The locked trucks are hoisted by a cage to a platform, where they are unlocked and their contents fed into a shoot leading to a cylinder covered with steel sieving with holes from 1/16 to 5/8 of an inch in diameter. The five sizes which pass through the cylinder flow upon a combination of jigs, termed at the mines the pulsators. The bottoms of the jigs are covered with screens, or sieving, the meshes of which are a little larger than the holes in the revolving cylinder immediately at the back of them. Over each screen is spread a layer of bullets to prevent the rich deposit from passing too rapidly through the screens. The jigs themselves are stationary, but from below an intermittent stream of water passes in rapid pulsations with an up and down movement. This pulsation keeps the diamantiferous gravel constantly moving — alive “ is the expressive word usedand tends to sort out the constituents roughly according to their specific gravity, the heavier particles working to the bottom and the lighter material washing off by the flow of water and passing into trucks, whence it is carried to the tailings heap. The heavier portions, by the up and down wash of the water, gradually work their way under the bullets and pass through the screens into pointed boxes, whence the heavy concentrates are drawn off upon endless belts. These convey their precious load to small elevators by means of which the concentrates are lifted into hoppers from which they are fed upon shaking tables.
CHAPTER IV
COLLECTING THE GEMS
The sorting room in the pulsator house is long, narrow, and well lighted (Fig. 9). Here the rich gravel is brought in wet, a sieveful at a time, and is dumped in a heap on tables covered with iron plates. The tables at one end take the coarsest lumps, next comes the gravel which passed the 3/8-inch holes, then the next in order, and so on. The first sorting is done by thoroughly trustworthy white men; for here the danger of robbery is greatest. Sweeping the heap of gravel to the right, the sorter scrapes a little of it to the centre of the table by means of a flat piece of sheet zinc. With this tool he rapidly passes in review the grains, seizes the diamonds and puts them into a little tin box in front of him. The stuff is then swept off to the left and another lot taken, and so on till the sieveful of gravel is exhausted, when another is brought in. The stuff the sorter has passed to his left as temporarily inspected is taken next to another part of the room, where it is again scrutinised by native convicts again and again, and whilst diamonds can be found in quantity sufficient to repay the cost of convict labour, it is passed under examination. The diamond has a peculiar lustre, and on the sorter’s table it is impossible to mistake it for any other stone that may be present. It looks somewhat like clear pieces of gum arabic, with a sort of intrinsic lustre which makes a conspicuous shine among the other stones.
AUTOMATIC DIAMOND COLLECTOR
A series of experiments was initiated by Mr. Gardner Williams with the object of separating the diamonds from the heavy, valueless concentrates with which they are associated. An ordinary shaking or percussion table was constructed, and every known means of separation was tried without success. One of the employees of De Beers, Mr. Fred Kirsten, was in charge of the experimenting, under the supervision of the late Mr. George Labram, the manager of the large crushing plant, and afterwards mechanical engineer to the Company. Notwithstanding the fact that the specific gravity of the diamond (3.52) was less than that of several of the minerals associated with it, so that its separation would seem a simple matter, it was found in practice to be impossible owing to the slippery nature of the diamond. The heavy concentrates carried diamonds, and diamonds flowed away from the percussion table with the tailings. When it seemed that every resource to do away with hand-sorting had been exhausted, Kirsten asked to be allowed to try to catch the diamonds by placing a coat of thick grease on the surface of the percussion table with which the other experiments had been made. Kirsten had noticed that oily substances, such as axle grease and white or red lead, adhered to diamonds when they chanced to come into contact, and, he argued to himself, if these substances adhered to diamonds and not to the other minerals in the concentrates, why should not diamonds adhere to grease on the table and the other minerals flow away? In this way the remarkable discovery was made that diamonds alone of all minerals contained in the blue ground will adhere to grease, and that all others will flow away as tailings over the end of the percussion table with the water. After this was determined by thorough experiments, more suitable shaking tables were constructed at the Company’s workshops. These were from time to time improved upon, until now all the sorting (except for the very coarse size) is done by these machines, whose power of distinction is far superior to the keenest eye of the native. Only about 1/3 of I per cent of diamonds is lost by the first table, and these are recovered almost to a stone when the concentrates are passed over the second table. The discrimination of this sorter is truly marvellous. Native workers, although experienced in the handling of diamonds, often pick out small crystals of zircon, or Dutch boart, by mistake, but the senseless machine is practically unerring. The grease containing the diamonds, together with a small percentage of very heavy minerals, such as iron pyrites and barytes, is scraped from the tables, placed in buckets made of steel plates with fine perforations, and boiled or steamed. The grease passes away to tanks of water, where it is cooled and is again fit for use. The diamonds, together with small bits of iron pyrites, brass nails from the miners’ boots, pieces of copper from the detonator used in blasting, which remain on the tables owing to their high specific gravity, and a very small admixture of worthless deposit which has become mechanically mixed with the grease, are then boiled in a solution containing caustic soda, where they are freed from all grease. The quantity of deposit from the size of 5/8 of an inch downwards, which now reaches the sorting table, does not exceed I cubic foot for every 12,000 loads (192,000 cubic feet) of blue ground washed. As already stated, 5/12 of 1 per cent of the whole mass of blue formerly passed to the sorting tables; or, from 12,000 loads, which is about the daily average of the quantity washed at De Beers and Kimberley Mines, 800 cubic feet had to be assorted by hand.
THE YIELD OF DIAMONDS
Sometimes as many as 8000 carats of diamonds come from the pulsator in one day, representing about £20,000 in value. When the bare statement is made that nearly 5,000,000 truck-loads, or more than 4,000,000 tons of blue ground, have been washed in a year, the mind only faintly conceives the prodigious size of the mass that is annually drawn from the old craters and laboriously washed and sorted for the sake of a few bucketfuls of diamonds. It would form a cube of more than 430 feet, or a block larger than any cathedral in the world, and overtopping the spire of St. Paul’s, while a box with sides measuring 2 feet 9 inches would hold the gems. From two to three million carats of diamonds are turned out of the De Beers mines in a year, and as 5,000,000 carats go to the ton, this represents half a ton of diamonds. To the end of 1892 10 tons of diamonds had come from this mine, valued at £60,000,000 sterling. This mass of blazing diamonds could be accommodated in a box 5 feet square and 6 feet high. The diamond is a luxury, and there is only a limited demand for it throughout the world. From four to four and a half millions sterling is as much as is spent annually in diamonds; if the production is not regulated by the demand, there will be over-production, and the trade will suffer. By regulating the output the directors have succeeded in maintaining prices since the consolidation in 1888. The blue ground varies in its yield of diamonds in different mines, but is pretty constant in the same mine. In 1890 the yield per load of blue ground was.
From the Kimberley Mine from 1.25 to 1.5 CARATS
De Beers Mine 1.20 to 1.33
Dutoitspan Mine 0.17 to 0.5
Bultfontein Mine 0.5 to 0.33
VARIETIES OF DIAMONDS
FANCY STONES
Diamonds occur in all shades, from deep yellow to pure white and jet black, from deep brown to light cinnamon, also green, blue, pink, yellow, orange, and opaque. Both in Kimberley and De Beers the blue ground on the west side is poorer in diamonds than the blue ground in other parts of the mines. The diamonds from the west side also differ somewhat from those in other parts of the same mine. The diamonds from each mine have a distinctive character, and so uniform are the characteristics that an experienced buyer can tell at once the locality of any particular parcel of stones. An isolated stone may, of course, be found occasionally in any one mine which is characteristic of some other source of production, but this is the exception to the general rule. There is a great similarity between the produce of the De Beers and Kimberley mines. A day’s wash from either of these mines could be distinguished from each other, but not so easily the majority of the individual stones. The Kimberley Mine produces a small percentage of white crystals, octahedral in shape, is noted for its large macles, and, in common with the De Beers Mine, it also yields a large percentage of coloured and large yellow diamonds. The De Beers Mine produces a comparatively small percentage of really white diamonds, but is noted for its fine silvery capes. The Dutoitspan Mine is noted for its fine white cleavages, silver capes, large yellows, and an exceptional proportion of large stones generally. It also produces a small proportion of fine white, octahedral-shaped crystals and a comparatively small proportion of diamonds below 0.2 of a carat in size. The Bultfontein Mine produces a very large percentage of white diamonds, mostly octahedral in shape and generally small in size. It produces very few coloured stones, but a larger percentage of flawed and spotted stones than any other mine. Even the apparently pure stones from this mine frequently develop flaws in cutting, which in the rough were imperceptible to the naked eye. The Wesselton Mine diamonds are noted for an abnormally large percentage of octahedral stones, a large proportion of which are free from flaws. White and brown stones predominate in this mine; there is almost an entire absence of the ordinary yellow, but very fine golden coloured fancy stones are unearthed occasionally, invariably in the form of cleavage, and hardly ever exceeding 2 carats each in weight. For “golden fancies” this mine is unrivalled. Wesselton diamonds are easily distinguished from the produce of every other mine by a decided gloss common to them. Wesselton produces more stones of 10 carats each and over than Bultfontein, but comparatively few large stones of over 50 carats each. It produces a very large percentage of small diamonds under 0.2 of a carat. With Bultfontein it shares the distinction of yielding cubical stones occasionally. It also produces a small percentage of blue-whites. The Frank Smith Mine produces very fine white diamonds, fairly regular in shape, mostly octahedral, and hardly any coloured stones. Many of the stones are grooved at the edges. The Kamfersdam Mine yields diamonds of very inferior quality, dark brown being the predominating colour, and even the majority of the better-class stones from this mine are faintly tinged with brown. The Kimberley West, formerly known as Theron’s Mine, situated about 30 miles due west of Kimberley, yields a very small percentage of blue-whites, fine “silver capes,” and a large proportion of brown diamonds, somewhat better in quality than Kamfersdam and more regular in shape. The diamonds from this mine present a distinctly “alluvial” appearance, but they are nevertheless distinctive in character from river diamonds and much inferior in quality. The diamonds from the Leicester Mine are of a distinctive character; they are very much grooved, extremely bad shapes for cutting, and many of the stones are crossgrained. The Newlands Mine, West Griqualand, about 40 miles north-west of Kimberley, is interesting on account of the occurrence of diamond in what the Reverend Professor Bonney considers to be its true matrix. The workmen occasionally come across wellrounded, boulder-like masses of eclogite, a rather coarsely crystalline rock, sometimes more than a foot in diameter. Some of these boulders have diamonds imbedded in them. One piece examined by Professor Bonney measured approximately 4 inches by 3 inches by 2 inches, and appeared to have been broken off a larger eclogite boulder. In it were seen ten diamonds, mostly well-crystallised octahedra, perfectly colourless, with brilliant lustre, four of them being comprised within a space of a quarter of an inch square. All these diamonds were on the surface. Probably others would have been found inside, but it was not considered desirable to destroy the specimen by breaking it up. It is now in the Natural History Museum, having been presented by the Directors of the Newlands Mine. Eclogite has been found in other diamond mines, but I am not aware that diamonds have been found imbedded in it except in the Newlands Mine. Stones from Jagersfontein, in the Orange River Colony, display great purity of colour and brilliancy, and they have the so-called “steely” lustre characteristic of old Indian gems.
FALLING OFF OF YIELD WITH DEPTH
According to tables furnished by the De Beers Company, the yield of the De Beers and Kimberley mines has declined as the depth increases. At the same time the value of the stones has risen, and diamonds are more expensive to-day than at any previous time.
Year
Number of carats5 per load
Value per carat s.
Value per carat d.
1899
1.283
19
8.75
1890
1.15
32
6.75
1891
0.99
29
6
1892
0.92
25
6
1893
1.05
29
0.6
1894
0.89
24
5.2
1895
0.85
25
6
1896
0.91
26
9.4
1897
0.92
26
10.6
1898
0.80
26
6.2
1899
0.71
29
7.2
1900
0.67
35
10.2
1901
0.76
39
7
1902
0.76
46
5.7
1903
0.61
48
6.3
1904
0.54
48
11.8
69
Accompanying diamonds in the concentrates are a number of other minerals of high specific gravity, and some of notable beauty. Among these are the rich red pyrope (garnet), sp. gr. 3.7, containing from 1.4 to 3 per cent of oxide of chromium; zircon, in flesh-coloured grains and crystals, sp. gr. 4 to 4.7; kyanite, sp. gr. 3.45 to 3.7, discernible by its blue colour and perfect cleavage; chrome diopside, sp. gr. 3.23 to 3.5, of a bright green colour; bronzite, sp. gr. 3.1 to 3.3; magnetite, sp. gr. 4.9 to 5.2, mixed chrome and titanium iron ore, sp. gr. 4.4 to 4.9, containing from 13 to 61 per cent of oxide of chromium, and from 3 to 68 per cent of titanic acid, in changeable quantities; hornblende, sp. gr. 2.9 to 3.4; barytes, sp. gr. 4.3 to 4.7; and mica. Some of the garnets are of fine quality, and one was recently cut which resembled a pigeon-blood ruby, and attracted an offer of £25. In the pulsator and sorting house most of the native labourers are long-sentence convicts, supplied with food, clothing, and medical attendance by the Company. They are necessarily well guarded. I myself saw about 1000 convicts at work. I was told that insubordination is very rare; apart from the hopelessness of a successful rising there is little inducement to revolt; the lot of these diamond workers is preferable to life in the Government prisons, and the seem contented.
CHAPTER V
THE DIAMOND OFFICE
From the pulsator the diamonds are sent to the general office in Kimberley to be cleansed in a boiling mixture of nitric and sulphuric acids. A parcel of diamonds loses about half a part per 1000 by this treatment. On one of my visits to the diamond office the door opened and in walked two young men, each carrying a large enamelled saucepan containing something steaming hot. They went to one of the zinc-covered tables and turned out from the saucepans a lustrous heap of 25,000 carats of diamonds (Fig. 10). They had just been boiled in acid and washed. After purification the diamonds are handed to the valuators (Fig. 11), who sort them into classes, according to size, colour, and purity. In the diamond office they are sorted into ten classes. In the year 1895, in 1141.8 carats of stones, the proportions of the different classes were as follows:
Close goods (best stones) . . . 53.8
Spotted stones . . . 75.8
Fine cleavage . . . 7.91
Flats . . . 39.5
Macles 36.5
Ordinary and rejection cleavage . . . 243.4
Rejection stones . . . 43.2
Light and brown cleavage . . . 56.9
Rubbish . . . 1371.8/1000.00
Fine sand . . . 141.8/1141.8
It is a sight for Aladdin to see the valuators at work in the strong-room of the De Beers Company at Kimberley. The tables are literally heaped with stones won from the rough blue ground—stones of all sizes, purified, flashing, and of inestimable price, stones that will be coveted by men and women all the world over; and last, but not least, stones that are probably destined to largely influence the development and history of a whole huge continent.
CHAPTER VI
NOTEWORTHY DIAMONDS
Prodigious diamonds are not so uncommon as is generally supposed. Diamonds weighing over an ounce (151.5 carats) are not unfrequent at Kimberley. Some years ago, in one parcel of stones, I saw eight perfect ounce crystals, and one stone weighing 2 ounces (Fig-12). The largest diamond from the Kimberley mines weighed 4281/2 carats, or nearly 4 ounces troy. It measured 17 inch through the longest axis and was 17/8 inch square. After, cutting it weighed 2281/2 carats, losing 200 carats in the process. The largest known diamond was discovered in January, 1905, at the New Premier Mine, near Pretoria. This mine is of the same type as the Kimberley mines, but larger in size, and, in fact, is the largest known diamantiferous pipe in the world—the pipe containing the “blue ground,” along the longer diameter of its oval-shaped cross-section, measuring over half a mile, and its area is estimated at 350,000 square yards. This pipe breaks through felsitic rocks. The diamond, called “Cullinan” from the name of one of the directors of the company on whose farm it was discovered, was presented to King Edward on his birthday by the people of the Transvaal. It weighed no less than 30253/4 carats, or 9586.5 grains (1.37 lb. avoirdupois). It was a fragment, probably less than half, of a distorted octahedral crystal; the other portions still await dis covery by some fortunate miner. The frontispiece shows this diamond in its natural size, from a photograph taken by myself. I had an opportunity of examining and experimenting with this unequalled stone before it was cut. A beam of polarised light passed in any direction through the stone, and then through an analyser, revealed colours in all cases, appearing brightest when the light passed along the greatest diameter—about 4 inches. Here the colours were very fine, but no regular figure was to be seen. Round a small black spot in the interior of the stone the colours were very vivid, changing and rotating round the spot as the analyser was turned. These observations indicated internal strain. The clearness throughout was remarkable, the stone being absolutely limpid like water, with the exception of a few flaws, dark graphitic spots, and coloured patches close to the outside. At one part near the surface there was an internal crack, showing well the colours of thin plates. At another point there was a milky, opaque mass, of a brown colour, with pieces of what looked like iron oxide. There were four cleavage planes of great smoothness and regularity. On other parts of the surface the crystalline structure was very marked. The edges were rounded in parts, and triangular markings (depressions) were to be seen. I also noticed square depressions, nearly as sharp and perfect as the triangular ones. The cleaving and cutting and polishing of the Cullinan diamond was entrusted to the firm of Asscher and Co., in Amsterdam. The cleavage of the diamond was very successfully accomplished by Mr. Joseph Ässcher. An incision half an inch deep was made with a sharp diamond point in the proper place, then a specially designed knife blade was placed in the incision and it was struck a heavy blow with a piece of steel. The diamond split through a defective spot, part of which was left in each portion of the diamond. Gigantic as is the Cullinan diamond, it represents in weight less than half the daily output of the De Beers mines, which averages about 7000 carats per day. Next in size to the Cullinan comes the one which was found at the Jagersfontein Mine. It weighed 970 carats—over half a pound. The following table gives the names and weights of some historic diamonds (Fig. 13):
1. Koh-i-noor, after the second cutting, 106 carats.
2. Loterie d’Angleterre, 49 carats.
3. Nizam of Hyderabad, 279 carats.
4. Orloff, 194 carats.
5. Koh-i-noor, after first cutting, 279 carats.
6. Regent or Pitt, 137 carats.
7. Duke of Tuscany, 133 carats.
8. Star of the South, 124 carats.
9. Pole Star, 40 carats.
10. Tiffany, yellow, 125 carats.
11. Hope, blue diamond, 44 carats.
12. Sancy, 53 carats.
13. Empress Eugenie, 51 carats.
14. Shah, 86 carats.
15. Nassak, 79 carats.
16. Pasha of Egypt, 40 carats.
17. Cullinan, 3025 carats.
18. Excelsior, Jagersfontein, 969 carats.
CHAPTER VII
BOART, CARBONADO, AND GRAPHITE
The black inclusions in some transparent diamonds consist of graphite. On crushing a clear diamond showing such spots and heating in oxygen to a temperature well below the point at which diamond begins to burn, Moissan found that the grey tint of the powder disappeared, no black spots being seen under the microscope. There also occur what may be considered intermediate forms between-the well-crystallised diamond and graphite. These are “boart” and “carbonado.” Boart is an imperfectly crystallised diamond, having no clear portions, and therefore useless for gems. Shot boart is frequently found in spherical globules, and may be of all colours. Ordinary boart is so hard that it is used in rock-drilling, and when crushed it is employed for cutting and polishing other stones. Carbonado is the Brazilian term for a still less perfectly crystallised form of carbon. It is equally hard, and occurs in porous masses and in massive black pebbles, sometimes weighing two or more ounces. The ash left after burning a diamond invariably contains iron as its chief constituent; and the most common colours of diamonds, when not perfectly pellucid, show various shades of brown and yellow, from the palest “off colour” to almost black. These variations give support to the theory advanced by Moissan that the diamond has separated from molten iron—a theory of which I shall say more presently—and also explain how it happens that stones from different mines, and even from different parts of the same mine, differ from each other. Further confirmation is given by the fact that the country round Kimberley is remarkable for its ferruginous character, and iron-saturated soil is popularly regarded as one of the indications of the near presence of diamonds.
GRAPHITE
Intermediate between soft carbon and diamond come the graphites. The name graphite is given to a variety of carbon, generally crystalline, which in an oxidising mixture of chlorate of potassium and nitric acid forms graphitic oxide. This varies in colour from green to brown or yellow, or it is almost without colour, according to the completeness of the reaction. Graphites are of varying densities, from 2.0 to 3.0, and generally of crystalline aspect. Graphite and diamond pass insensibly into one another. Hard graphite and soft diamond are near the same specific gravity. The difference appears to be one of pressure at the time of formation. Some forms of graphite exhibit the remarkable property by which it is possible to ascertain approximately the temperature at which they were formed, or to which they have subsequently been exposed. Sprouting graphite is a form, frequently met with in nature, which on moderate heating swells up to a bulky, very light mass of amorphous carbon. Moissan has found it in blue ground from Kimberley; my own results verify his. When obtained by simple elevation of temperature in the arc or the electric furnace graphites do not sprout; but when they are formed by dissolving carbon in a metal at a high temperature and then allowing the graphite to separate out on cooling, the sprouting variety appears. The phenomenon of sprouting is easily shown. If a few grains are placed in a test-tube and heated to about 170° C., the grains increase enormously in bulk and fill the tube with a light form of amorphous carbon. The resistance of a graphite to oxidising agents is greater the higher the temperature to which it has previously been exposed. Graphites which are easily attacked by a mixture of fuming nitric acid and potassium chlorate are rendered more resistant by strong heat in the electric furnace. I have already signified that there are various degrees of refractoriness to chemical reagents among the different forms of graphite. Some dissolve in strong nitric acid; other forms of graphite require a mixture of highly concentrated nitric acid and potassium chlorate to attack them, and even with this intensely powerful agent some graphites resist longer than others. M. Moissan has shown that the power of resistance to nitric acid and potassium chlorate is in proportion to the temperature at which the graphite was formed, and with tolerable certainty we can estimate this temperature by the resistance of the specimen of graphite to this reagent.
CRYSTALLISATION
The diamond belongs to the isometric system of crystallography; the prevailing form is octahedral. It frequently occurs with curved faces and edges. Twin crystals (macles) are not uncommon. Diamond crystals are generally perfect on all sides. They seldom show irregular sides or faces by which they were attached to-a support, as do artificial crystals of chemical salts; another proof that the diamond must have crystallised from a’dense liquid. The accompanying illustration (Fig. 14) shows some of the various crystalline forms of native diamonds. No. 1: Diamond in the form of a hexakis octahedron (the forty-eight scalenohedron), or a solid figure contained by forty-eight scalene triangles. According to Professor Maskelyne, this occurs as a self-existent form only in the diamond. No. 2. Diamond in the form of a hexakisoctahedron and octahedron. From Sudafrika. No. 3. Diamond in the form of octahedron with intersections. No. 4. Diamond from Brazil. No. 5. Diamond from Kimberley. No. 6. Diamond from Brazil. No. 7. A macle or twin crystal, showing its formation from an octahedron with curved edges. Some crystals of diamonds have their surfaces beautifully marked with equilateral triangles, interlaced and of varying sizes (Fig. 15). Under the microscope these markings appear as hollow depressions sharply cut out of the surrounding surface, and these depressions were supposed by Gustav Rose to indicate the probability that the diamonds had at some previous time been exposed to incipient combustion. Rose pointed out that similar triangular striations appeared on the surfaces of diamonds burnt before the blowpipe. This experiment I have repeated on a clear diamond, and I have satisfied myself that during combustion before the blowpipe, in the field of a microscope, the surface is etched with triangular markings different in character from those naturally on crystals (Fig. 16). The artificial striæ are very irregular, much smaller, and massed closer together, looking as if the-diamond during combustion flaked away in triangular chips, while the markings natural to crystals appear as if produced by the crystallising force as they were being built up. Many crystals of chemical compounds appear striated from both these causes. Geometrical markings can be produced by eroding the surface of a crystal of alum with water, and they also occur naturally during crystallisation.
CHAPTER VIII
PHYSICAL AND CHEMICAL PROPERTIES OF THE DIAMOND
I need scarcely say the diamond is almost pure carbon, and it is the hardest substance in nature. When heated in air or oxygen to a temperature varying from 760° to 875°C., according to its hardness, the diamond burns with production of carbonic acid. It leaves an extremely light ash, sometimes retaining the shape of the crystal, consisting of iron, lime, magnesia, silica, and titanium. In boart and carbonado the amount of ash sometimes rises to 4 per cent, but in clear crystallised diamonds it is seldom higher than 0.05 per cent. By far the largest constituent of the ash is iron. The following table shows the temperatures of combustion in oxygen of different kinds of carbon :
Condensed vapour of carbon……650
Carbon from sugar, heated in an electrical furnace……660
Artificial graphites, generally…..660
Graphite from ordinary cast-iron……670
Carbon from blue ground, of an ochre colour……690
Carbon from blue ground, very hard and black……710
Diamond, soft Brazilian……760
Diamond, hard Kimberley……780
Boart from Brazil……790
Boart from Kimberley……790
Boart, very hard, almost impossible to cut……900
HARDNESS
Diamonds vary considerably in hardness, and even different parts of the same crystal differ in their resistance to cutting and grinding. Beautifully white diamonds have been found at Inverel, New South Wales, and from the rich yield of the mine and the white colour of the stones great things were expected. In the first parcel which came to England the stones were found to be so much harder than South African diamonds that it was at first feared they would be useless except for rock-boring purposes. The difficulty of cutting them disappeared with improved appliances, and they now are highly prized. The famous Koh-i-noor, when being cut into its present form, showed a notable variation in hardness. In cutting one of the facets near a yellow flaw, the crystal became harder and harder the further it was cut, until, after working the mill for six hours at the usual speed of 2400 revolutions a minute, little impression was made. The speed was increased to more than 3000, when the work slowly proceeded. Other portions of the stone were found to be comparatively soft, and became harder as the outside was cut away. The intense hardness of the diamond can be illustrated by the following experiment. On the flattened apex of a conical block of steel place a diamond, and upon it bring down a second cone of steel. On forcing together the two steel cones by hydraulic pressure the stone is squeezed into the steel blocks without injuring it in the slightest degree. In an experiment I made at Kimberley the pressure gauge showed 60 atmospheres, and the piston being 3.2 inches diameter, the absolute pressure was 3.16 tons, equivalent on a diamond of 12 square mm. surface to 170 tons per square inch of diamond. The use of diamond in glass-cutting I need not dwell on. So hard is diamond in comparison to glass, that a suitable splinter of diamond will plane curls off a glass plate as a carpenter’s tool will plane shavings off a deal board. The illustration (Fig. 17) shows a few diamond-cut glass shavings.
DENSITY OR SPECIFIC GRAVITY
The specific gravity of the diamond varies ordinarily from 3.514 to 3.518. For comparison, I give in tabular form the specific gravities of the different varieties of carbon and of the minerals found on the sorting tables.
SPECIFIC GRAVITY.
Amorphous carbon . . . 1.45-1.70
Hard gas coke . . . 2.356
Hard graphite . . . 2.5
Quartzite and granite . . . 2.6
Beryl . . . 2.7
Mica . . . 2.8
Hornblende . . . 3.0
Boart . . . 3.47-3.49
Carbonado . . . 3.5
Diamond . . . 3.514-3.518
Garnet . . . 3.7
Corundum . . . 3.8
Zircon . . . 4.4
Barytes . . . 4.5
Chrome and titanic iron ore . . . 4.7
Magnetite . . . 5.0
There is a substance, the double nitrate of silver and thallium, which, while solid at ordinary temperatures, liquefies at 75° C. and then has a specific gravity of 4.5. Admixture with water lowers the density to any desired point. If a glass cell is taken containing this liquid diluted to a density of about 3.6, and in it is thrown pieces of the above-named minerals, all those whose density is lower than 3.6 will rise to the surface, while the denser minerals will sink. If now a little water is carefully added with constantly stirring until the density of the liquid is reduced to that of the diamond, the heterogeneous collection sorts itself into three parts. The graphite, quartz, beryl, mica, and hornblende rise to the surface; the garnet, corundum, zircons, etc., sink to the bottom, while the diamonds float in the middle of the liquid. With a platinum landing-net I can skim off the swimmers and put them into one dish; with the same net I can fish out the diamonds and put them in a second dish, while by raising a sieve at the bottom I can remove the heavy minerals and put them into a third. The accurate separation of diamonds from the heterogeneous mixture can be effected in less time than is taken to describe the experiment. The table shows that diamonds vary somewhat in density among themselves, between narrow limits. Occasionally, however, diamonds overpass these figures. Here is an illustration. In a test-tube of the same dense liquid are three selected diamonds. One rises to the top, another floats uncertain where to settle, rising and falling as the temperature of the sorting liquid is raised or lowered, whilst the third sinks to the bottom. Allowing the liquid to cool a degree or two slightly increases the density and sends all three to the surface.
PHOSPHORESCENCE OF DIAMOND
After exposure for some time to the sun many diamonds glow in a dark room. Some diamonds are fluorescent, appearing milky in sunlight. In a vacuum, exposed to a high-tension current of electricity, diamonds phosphoresce of different colours, most South African diamonds shining with a bluish light. Diamonds from other localities emit bright blue, apricot, pale blue, red, yellowish green, orange, and pale green light. The most phosphorescent diamonds are those which are fluorescent in the sun. One beautiful green diamond in the writer’s collection, when phosphorescing in a good vacuum, gives almost as much light as a candle, and you can easily read by its rays. But the time has hardly come when diamonds can be used as domestic illuminants! The emitted light is pale green, tending to white, and in its spectrum, when strong, can be seen bright lines, one at about λ 5370 in the green, one at λ 5130 in the greenish blue, and one at λ 5030 in the blue. A beautiful collection of diamond crystals belonging to Professor Maskelyne phosphoresces with nearly all the colours of the rainbow, the different faces glowing with different shades of colour. Diamonds which phosphoresce red generally show the yellow sodium line on a continuous spectrum. In one Brazilian diamond phosphorescing a reddish-yellow colour I detected in its spectrum the citron line characteristic of yttrium. The rays which make the diamond phosphoresce are high in the ultra-violet. To illustrate this phosphorescence under the influence of the ultra-violet rays, arrange a powerful source of these rays, and in front expose a design made up of certain minerals, willemite, franklinite, calcite, etc.—phos phorescing of different colours. Their brilliant glow ceases entirely when a thin piece of glass is interposed between them and the ultra-violet lamp. I now draw attention to a strange property of the diamond, which at first sight might seem to discount the great permanence and unalterability of this stone. It has been ascertained that the cause of phosphorescence is in some way connected with the hammering of the electrons, violently driven from the negative pole on to the surface of the body under examination, and so great is the energy of the bombardment, that impinging on a piece of platinum or even iridium, the metal will actually melt. When the diamond is thus bombarded in a radiant matter tube the result is startling. It not only phosphoresces, but becomes discoloured, and in course of time becomes black on the surface. Some diamonds blacken in the course of a few minutes, while others require an hour or more to discolour. This blackening is only superficial, and although no ordinary means of cleaning will remove the discolouration, it goes at once when the stone is polished with diamond powder. Ordinary oxidising reagents have little or no effect in restoring the colour. The superficial dark coating on a diamond after exposure to molecular bombardment I have proved to be graphite. M. Moissan has shown that this graphite, on account of its great resistance to oxidising reagents, cannot have been formed at a lower temperature than 3600° C. It is thus manifest that the bombarding electrons, striking the diamond with enormous velocity, raise the superficial layer to the temperature of the electric arc and turn it into graphite, whilst the mass of diamond and its conductivity to heat are sufficient to keep down the general temperature to such a point that the tube appears scarcely more than warm to the touch. A similar action occurs with silver, the superficial layers of which can be raised to a red heat without the whole mass becoming more than warm.
CONVERSION OF DIAMOND INTO GRAPHITE
Although we cannot convert graphite into diamond, we can change the diamond into graphite. A clear crystal of diamond is placed between two carbon poles, and the poles with intervening diamond are brought together and an arc formed between. The temperature of the diamond rapidly rises, and when it approaches 3600° C., the vaporising point of carbon, it breaks down, swells, and changes into black and valueless graphite.
TRIBO-LUMINESCENCE
A few minerals give out light when rubbed. In the year 1663 the Hon. Robert Boyle read a paper before the Royal Society, in which he described several experiments made with a diamond which markedly showed tribo-luminescence. As specimens of tribo-luminescent bodies I may instance sphalerite (sulphide of zinc), and an artificial sphalerite, which is even more responsive to friction than the native sulphide.6 Mrs. Kunz, wife of the well-known New York mineralogist, possesses, perhaps, the most remarkable of all phosphorescing diamonds. This prodigy diamond will phosphoresce in the dark for some minutes after being exposed to a small pocket electric light, and if rubbed on a piece of cloth a long streak of phosphorescence appears.
ABSORPTION SPECTRUM OF DIAMOND
On passing a ray of light through a diamond and examining it in a spectroscope, Walter has found in all colourless brilliants of over I carat in weight an absorption band at wave-length 4155 (violet). He ascribes this band to an impurity and suggests it may possibly be due to samarium. Three other fainter lines were detected in the ultra-violet by means of photography.
REFRACTIVITY
But it is not the hardness of the diamond so much as its optical qualities that make it so highly prized. It is one of the most refracting substances in nature, and it also has the highest reflecting properties. In the cutting of diamonds advantage is taken of these qualities. When cut as a brilliant the facets on the lower side are inclined so that light falls on them at an angle of 24° 13’, at which angle all the incident light is totally reflected. A wellcut brilliant should appear opaque by transmitted light except at a small spot in the middle where the table and culet are opposite. All the light falling on the front of the stone is reflected from the facets, and the light passing into the diamond is reflected from the interior surfaces and refracted into colours when it passes out into the air, giving rise to the lightnings, the effulgence, and coruscations for which the diamond is supreme above all other gems. The following table gives the refractive indices of diamonds and other bodies:
REFRACTIVE INDICES FOR THE D LINE
Chromate of lead 2.50-2.97
Diamond 2.47-2.75
Phosphorus 2.22
Sulphur 2.12
Ruby 1.78
Thallium glass 1.75
Iceland spar 1.65
Topaz 1.61
Beryl 1.60
Emerald 1.59
Flint glass 1.58
Quartz 1.55
Canada balsam 1.53
Crown glass 1.53
Fluor-spar 1.44
Ice 1.31
In vain I have searched for a liquid of the same refraction as diamond. Such a liquid would be invaluable to the merchant, as on immersing a stone the clear body would absolutely disappear, leaving in all their ugliness the flaws and black specks so frequently seen even in the best stones.
THE DIAMOND AND POLARISED LIGHT
Having no double refraction, the diamond should not act on polarised light. But as is well known, if a transparent body which does not so act is submitted to strain of an irregular character it becomes doubly refracting, and in the polariscope reveals the existence of the strain by brilliant colours arranged in a more or less defined pattern, according to the state of tension in which the crystal exists. I have examined many hundred diamond crystals under polarised light, and with few exceptions the colours show how great is the strain to which some of them are exposed. On rotating the polariser, the black cross most frequently seen revolves round a particular point in the inside of the crystal; on examining this point with a high power we sometimes see a slight flaw, more rarely a minute cavity. The cavity is filled with gas at enormous pressure, and the strain is set up in the stone by the effort of the gas to escape. I have already said that the great Cullinan diamond by this means revealed a state of considerable internal stress and strain. So great is this strain of internal tension that it is not uncommon for a diamond to explode soon after it reaches the surface, and some have been known to burst in the pockets of the miners or when held in the warm hand. Large crystals are more liable to burst than smaller pieces. Valuable stones have been destroyed in this way, and it is whispered that cunning dealers are not averse to allowing responsible clients to handle or carry in their warm pockets large crystals fresh from the mine. By way of safeguard against explosion some dealers imbed large diamonds in raw potato to ensure safe transit to England. The anomalous action which many diamonds exert on polarised light is not such as can be induced by heat, but it can easily be conferred on diamonds by pressure, showing that the strain has not been produced by sudden cooling, but by sudden lowering of pressure. The illustration of this peculiarity is not only difficult, but sometimes exceedingly costly—difficult because it is necessary to arrange for projecting on the screen the image of a diamond crystal between the jaws of a hydraulic press, the illuminating light having to pass through delicate optical polarising apparatus—and costly because only perfectly clear crystals can be used, and crystals of this character sometimes fly to pieces as the pressure rises. At first no colour is seen on the screen, the crystal not being birefringent. A movement of the handle of the press, however, gives the crystal a pinch, instantly responded to by the colours on the screen, showing the production of double refraction. Another movement of the handle brightens the colours, and a third may strain the crystal beyond its power of resistance, when the crystal flies to pieces.
THE DIAMOND AND RÖNTGEN RAYS
The diamond is remarkable in another respect. It is extremely transparent to the Röntgen rays, whereas highly refracting glass, used in imitation diamonds, is almost perfectly opaque to the rays. I exposed for a few seconds over a photographic plate to the X-rays the large Delhi diamond of a rose-pink colour weighing 311/2 carats, a black diamond weighing 23 carats, and a glass imitation of the pink diamond (Fig. 18). On development the impression where the diamond obscured the rays was found to be strong, showing that most rays passed through, while the glass was practically opaque. By this means imitation diamonds can readily be distinguished from true gems.
ACTION OF RADIUM ON DIAMOND
The ß-rays from radium having like properties to the stream of negative electrons in a radiant matter tube, it was of interest to ascertain if they would exert a like difference on diamond. The diamond glows under the influence of the ß-radiations, and crushed diamond cemented to a piece of card or metal makes an excellent screen in a spinthariscope—almost as good as zinc sulphide. Some colourless crystals of diamond were imbedded in radium bromide and kept undisturbed for more than twelve months. At the end of that time they were examined. The radium had caused them to assume a bluish-green colour, and their value as “fancy stones” had been increased. This colour is persistent and penetrates below the surface. It is unaffected by long continued heating in strong nitric acid and potassium chlorate, and is not discharged by heating to redness. To find out if this prolonged contact with radium had communicated to the diamond any radio-active properties, six diamonds were put on a photographic plate and kept in the dark for a few hours. All showed radio-activity by darkening the sensitive plate, some being more active than others. Like the green tint, the radio-activity persists after drastic treatment. To me this proves that radio-activity does not merely consist in the adhesion of electrons or emanations given off by radium to the surface of an adjacent body, but the property is one involving layers below the surface, and like the alteration of tint, is probably closely connected with the intense molecular excitement the stone had experienced during its twelve months’ burial in radium bromide. A diamond that had been coloured by radium, and had acquired strong radioactive properties, was slowly heated to dull redness in a dark room. Just before visibility a faint phosphorescence spread over the stone. On cooling and examining the diamond it was found that neither the colour nor the radio-activity had suffered appreciably.
BOILING-AND MELTING-POINT OF CARBON
On the average the critical point of a substance is 1.5 times its absolute boiling-point. Therefore the critical point of carbon should be about 5800° Ab. But the absolute critical temperature divided by the critical pressure is for all the elements so far examined never less than 2.5; this being about the value Sir James Dewar finds for hydrogen. So that, accepting this, we get the maximum critical pressure as follows, viz. 2320 atmospheres: (5800° Ab. )/CrP = 2.5 or CrP = (5800 Ab. )/2.5 or 2320 atmospheres. Carbon and arsenic are the only two elements that have a melting-point above the boiling-point, and among compounds carbonic acid and fluoride of silicium are the only other bodies with similar properties. Now the melting-point of arsenic is about 1.2 times its absolute boiling-point. With carbonic acid and fluoride of silicium the melting-points are about 1.1 times their boiling-points. Applying these ratios to carbon, we find that its melting-point would be about 4400°. Therefore, assuming the following data:
Boiling-point 3870° Ab.
Melting-point 4400°
Critical temperature 5800°
Critical pressure 2320 Ats.
the Rankine or Van der Waals formula, calculated from the boiling-point and critical data, would be as follows:
log. P=10.11-39120/T and this gives for a temperature of 4400° Ab. a pressure of 16.6 Ats. as the melting-point pressure. The results of the formula are given in the form of a table :
Temperature Ab.
Pressure Ats.

3870°
1.00
Boiling-point
4000°
2.14

4200°
6.25

4400°
16.6
Melting-point
4600°
40.4

4800°
91.2

5000°
193

5200°
386

5400°
735

5600°
1330

5800°
2320
Critical point (15 tons per square inch):

If, then, we may reason from these rough estimates, above a temperature of 5800° Ab. no amount of pressure will cause carbon vapour to assume liquid form, whilst at 4400° Ab. a pressure of above 17 atmospheres would suffice to liquefy some of it. Between these extremes the curve of vapour pressure is assumed to be logarithmic, as represented in the accompanying diagram. The constant 39120 which occurs in the logarithmic formula enables us to calculate the latent heat of evaporation. If we assume the vapour density to be normal, or the molecule in vapour as C2, then the heat of volatilisation of 12 grms. of carbon would be 90,000 calories; or, if the vapour is a condensed molecule like C6, then the 12 grms. would need 30,000 calories. In the latter case the evaporation of 1 grm. of carbon would require 2500 calories, whereas a substance like zinc needs only about 400 calories.
CHAPTER IX
GENESIS OF THE DIAMOND
Speculations as to the probable origin of the diamond have been greatly forwarded by patient research, and particularly by improved means of obtaining high temperatures, an advance we owe principally to the researches of the late Professor Moissan. Until recent years carbon was considered absolutely non-volatile and infusible, but the enormous temperatures placed at the disposal of experimentalists by the introduction of electricity show that, instead of breaking rules, carbon obeys the same laws that govern other bodies. It volatilises at the ordinary pressure at a temperature of about 3600° C., and passes from the solid to the gaseous state without liquefying. It has been found that other bodies, such as arsenic, which volatilise without liquefying at the ordinary pressure, will easily liquefy if pressure is added to temperature. It naturally follows that if along with the requisite temperature sufficient pressure is applied, liquefaction of carbon will take place, when on cooling it will crystallise. But carbon at high temperatures is a most energetic chemical agent, and if it can get hold of oxygen from the atmosphere or any compound containing it, it will oxidise and fly off in the form of carbonic acid. Heat and pressure therefore are of no avail unless the carbon can be kept inert. It has long been known that iron, when melted, dissolves carbon, and on cooling liberates it in the form of graphite. Moissan discovered that several other metals, especially silver, have similar properties; but iron is the best solvent for carbon. The quantity of carbon entering into solution increases with the temperature. For the artificial manufacture of diamond the first necessity is to select pure iron—free from sulphur, silicon, phosphorus, etc.—and to pack it in a carbon crucible with pure charcoal from sugar. The crucible is then put into the body of the electric furnace and a powerful arc formed close above it between carbon poles, utilising a current of 700 ampères at 40 volts pressure (Fig. 20). The iron rapidly melts and saturates itself with carbon. After a few minutes’ heating to a temperature above 4000° C.—a temperature at which the iron melts like wax and volatilises in clouds—the current is stopped and the dazzling fiery crucible is plunged beneath the surface of cold water, where it is held till it sinks below a red heat. As is well known, iron increases in volume at the moment of passing from the liquid to the solid state. The sudden cooling solidifies the outer layer of iron and holds the inner molten mass in a tight grip. The expansion of the inner liquid on solidifying produces an enormous pressure, and under the stress of this pressure the dissolved carbon separates out in transparent forms—minutely microscopic, it is true—all the same veritable diamonds, with crystalline form and appearance, colour, hardness, and action on light, the same as the natural gem. Now commences the tedious part of the process. The metallic ingot is attacked with hot nitro-hydrochloric acid until no more iron is dissolved. The bulky residue consists chiefly of graphite, together with translucent chestnut-coloured flakes of carbon, black opaque carbon of a density of from 3.0 to 3.5 and hard as diamonds—black diamonds or carbonado, in fact—and a small portion of transparent, colourless diamonds showing crystalline structure. Besides these there may be carbide of silicon and corundum, arising from impurities in the materials employed. The residue is first heated for some hours with strong sulphuric acid at the boiling-point, with the cautious addition of powdered nitre. It is then well washed and for two days allowed to soak in strong hydrofluoric acid in cold, then in boiling acid. After this treatment the soft graphite disappears, and most, if not all, the silicon compounds have been destroyed. Hot sulphuric acid is again applied to destroy the fluorides, and the residue, well washed, is attacked with a mixture of the strongest nitric acid and powdered potassium chlorate, kept warm—but not above 60° C., to avoid explosions. This treatment must be repeated six or eight times, when all the hard graphite will gradually be dissolved and little else left but graphitic oxide, diamond, and the harder carbonado and boart. The residue is fused for an hour in fluorhydrate or fluoride of potassium, then boiled out in water and again heated in sulphuric acid. The well- washed grains which resist this energetic treatment are dried, carefully deposited on a slide, and examined under the microscope. Along with numerous pieces of black diamond are seen transparent, colourless pieces, some amorphous, others with a crystalline appearance. Fig. 21 B shows one of these crystalline fragments. Although many fragments of crystals occur, it is remarkable I have never seen a complete crystal. All appear shattered, as if on being liberated from the intense pressure under which they were formed they burst asunder. T have singular evidence of this phenomenon. A fine piece of artificial diamond, carefully mounted by me on a microscopic slide, exploded during the night and covered the slide with fragments. Moissan’s crystals of artificial diamond sometimes broke a few weeks after their preparation, and some of the diamonds which cracked weeks or even months after their preparation showed fissures covered with minute cubes. I have explained that this bursting paroxysm is not unknown at the Kimberley mines. So far, all such artificial diamonds are microscopic. The largest artificial diamond is less than one millimetre across. These laboratory diamonds burn in the air before the blowpipe to carbonic acid. In lustre, crystalline form, optical properties, density, and hardness they are identical with the natural stone. In several cases Moissan separated ten to fifteen microscopic diamonds from a single ingot. The larger of these are about 075 mm. long, the octahedra being 0.2 mm. The accompanying illustrations (Fig. 22) are copied from drawings in Moissan’s book Le Four Electrique. Along with carbon, molten iron dissolves other bodies which possess tinctorial powers. We know of blue, green, pink, yellow, and orange diamonds. One batch of iron might contain an impurity colouring the stones blue, another lot would tend towards the formation of pink stones, another of green, and so on. Cobalt, nickel, chromium, and manganese, all metals present in the blue ground, would produce these colours.
A NEW FORMATION OF DIAMOND
I have long speculated as to the possibility of obtaining artificially such pressures and temperatures as would fulfil the above conditions. In their researches on the gases from fired gunpowder and cordite, Sir Frederick Abel and Sir Andrew Noble obtained in closed steel cylinders pressures as great as 95 tons to the square inch, and temperatures as high as 4000° C. According to a paper recently communicated to the Royal Society, Sir Andrew Noble, exploding cordite in closed vessels, has obtained a pressure of 8000 atmospheres, or 50 tons per square inch, with a temperature reaching in all probability 5400° Ab. Here, then, we have conditions favourable for the liquefaction of carbon, and were the time of explosion sufficient to allow the reactions to take place, we should certainly expect to get the liquid carbon to solidify in the crystalline state.7 By the kindness of Sir Andrew Noble I have been enabled to work upon some of the residues obtained in closed vessels after explosions, and I have submitted them to the same treatment that the granulated iron had gone through. After weeks of patient toil. I removed the amorphous carbon, the graphite, the silica8, and other constituents of the ash of cordite, and obtained a residue among which, under the microscope, crystalline particles could be distinguished. Some of these particles, from their crystalline appearance and double refraction, were silicon carbide; others were probably diamonds. The whole residue was dried and fused at a good red heat in an excess of potassium bifluoride, to which was added, during fusion, 5 per cent of nitre. (Previous experiments had shown me that this mixture readily attacked and dissolved silicon carbide; unfortunately it also attacks diamond to a slight degree.) All the operations of washing and acid treatment were performed in a large platinum crucible by decantation (except the preliminary attack with nitric acid and potassium chlorate, when a hard glass vessel was used); the final result was washed into a shallow watch-glass and the selection made under the microscope. The residue, after thorough washing and then heating in fuming sulphuric acid, was washed, and the largest crystalline particles picked out and mounted. From the treatment the residual crystals had undergone, chemists will agree with me that diamonds only could stand such an ordeal; on submitting them to skilled crystallographic authorities my opinion is confirmed. Speaking of the largest crystal, one eminent authority calls it “a diamond showing octahedral planes with dark boundaries due to high refracting index.” After careful examination, another authority writes of the same crystal diamond, “I think one may safely say that the position and angles of its faces, and of its cleavages, the absence of birefringence, and the high refractive index are all compatible with the properties of the diamond crystallising in the form of an octahedron. Others of the remaining crystals; which show a similar high refractive index, appeared to me to present the same features.” It would have been more conclusive had I been able to get further evidence as to the density and hardness of the crystals; but from what I have already said I think there is no doubt that in these closed vessel explosions we have another method of producing the diamond artificially.
CHAPTER X
THE NATURAL FORMATION OF THE DIAMOND
An hypothesis is of little value if it only elucidates half a problem. Let us see how far we can follow out the ferric hypothesis to explain the volcanic pipes. In the first place we must remember these so-called volcanic vents are admittedly not filled with the eruptive rocks, scoriaceous fragments, etc., constituting the ordinary contents of volcanic ducts. Certain artificial diamonds present the appearance of an elongated drop. I have seen diamonds which have exactly the appearance of drops of liquid separated in a pasty condition and crystallised on cooling. Diamonds are sometimes found with little appearance of crystallisation, but with rounded forms similar to those which a liquid might assume if kept in the midst of another liquid with which it would not mix. Other drops of liquid carbon retained for sufficient time above their melting-point would coalesce with adjacent drops, and on slow cooling would separate in the form of large perfect crystals. Two drops, joining after incipient crystallisation, might assume the not uncommon form of interpenetrating twin crystals. Many circumstances point to the conclusion that the diamond of the chemist and the diamond of the mine are strangely akin as to origin. It is evident that the diamond has not been formed in situ in the blue ground. The genesis must have taken place at vast depths under enormous pressure. The explosion of large diamonds on coming to the surface shows extreme tension. More diamonds are found in fragments and splinters than in perfect crystals; and it is noteworthy that although these splinters and fragments must be derived from the breaking up of a large crystal, yet in only one instance have pieces been found which could be fitted together, and these occurred at different levels. Does not this fact point to the conclusion that the blue ground is not their true matrix? Nature does not make fragments of crystals. As the edges of the crystals are still sharp and unabraded, the locus of formation cannot have been very distant from the present sites. There were probably many sites of crystallisation differing in place and time, or we should not see such distinctive characters in the gems from different mines, nor indeed in the diamonds from different parts of the same mine. I start with the reasonable supposition that at a sufficient depth9 there were masses of molten iron at great pressure and high temperature, holding carbon in solution, ready to crystallise out on cooling. Far back in time the cooling from above caused cracks in superjacent strata through which water10 found its way. On reaching the incandescent iron the water would be converted into gas, and this gas would rapidly disintegrate and erode the channels through which it passed, grooving a passage more and more vertical in the necessity to find the quickest vent to the surface. But steam in the presence of molten or even red-hot iron, liberates large volumes of hydrogen gas, together with less quantities of hydrocarbons11 of all kinds—liquid, gaseous, and solid. Erosion commenced by steam would be continued by the other gases; it would be easy for pipes, large as any found in South Africa, to be scored out in this manner. Sir Andrew Noble has shown that when the screw stopper of his steel cylinders in which gunpowder explodes under pressure is not absolutely perfect, gas escapes with a rush so overpowering and a temperature so high as to score a wide channel in the metal. To. illustrate my argument Sir Andrew Noble has been kind enough to try a special experiment. Through a cylinder of granite he drilled a hole 0.2 inch diameter, the size of a small vent. This was made the stopper of an explosion chamber, in which a quantity of cordite was fired, the gases escaping through the granite vent. The pressure was about 1500 atmospheres and the whole time of escape was less than half a second. The erosion produced by the escaping gases and by the heat of friction scored out a channel more than half an inch diameter and melted the granite along the course. If steel and granite are thus vulnerable at comparatively moderate gaseous pressure, it is easy to imagine the destructive upburst of hydrogen and water-gas, grooving for itself a channel in the diabase and quartzite, tearing fragments from resisting rocks, covering the country with debris, and finally, at the subsidence of the great rush, filling the self-made pipe with a water-borne magma in which rocks, minerals, iron oxide, shale, petroleum, and diamonds are violently churned in a veritable witch’s cauldron! As the heat abated the water vapour would gradually give place to hot water, which, forced through the magma, would change some of the mineral fragments into the existing forms of to-day. Each outbreak would form a dome-shaped hill; the eroding agency of water and ice would plane these eminences until all traces of the original pipes were lost. Actions such as I have described need not have taken place simultaneously. As there must have been many molten masses of iron with variable contents of carbon, different kinds of colouring matter, solidifying with varying degrees of rapidity, and coming in contact with water at intervals throughout long periods of geological time—so must there have been many outbursts and upheavals, giving rise to pipes containing diamonds. And these diamonds, by sparseness of distribution, crystalline character, difference of tint, purity of colour, varying hardness, brittleness, and state of tension, have the story of their origin impressed upon them, engraved by natural forces—a story which future generations of scientific men may be able to interpret with greater precision than is possible to-day.
CHAPTER XI
METEORIC DIAMONDS
Sensational as is the story of the diamond industry in South Africa, quite another aspect fixes the attention of the chemist. The diamonds come out of the mines, but how did they get in? How were they formed? What is their origin? Gardner Williams, who knows more about diamonds than any man living, is little inclined to indulge in speculation. In his fascinating book he frankly says : “I have been frequently asked, ‘What is your theory of the original crystallisation of the diamond?’ and the answer has always been, ‘I have none; for after seventeen years of thoughtful study, coupled with practical research, I find that it is easier to “drive a coach and four” through most theories that have been propounded than to suggest one which would be based on any non-assailable data.’ All that can be said is that in some unknown manner carbon, which existed deep down in the internal regions of the earth, was changed from its black and uninviting appearance to the most beautiful gem which ever saw the light of day.” Another diamond theory appeals to the imagination. It is said the diamond is a gift: from Heaven, conveyed to earth in meteoric showers. The suggestion, I believe, was first broached by A. Meydenbauer,12 who says, “The diamond can only be of cosmic origin, having fallen as a meteorite at later periods of the earth’s formation. The available localities of the diamond contain the residues of not very compact meteoric masses which may, perhaps, have fallen in prehistoric ages, and which have penetrated more or less deeply, according to the more or less resistant character of the surface where they fell. Their remains are crumbling away on exposure to the air and sun, and the rain has long ago washed away all prominent masses. The enclosed diamonds have remained scattered in the river beds, while the fine light matrix has been swept away.” According to this hypothesis, the so-called volcanic pipes are simply holes bored in the solid earth by the impact of monstrous meteors—the larger masses boring the holes, while the smaller masses, disintegrating in their fall, distributed diamonds broadcast. Bizarre as such a theory appears, I am bound to say there are many circumstances which show that the notion of the heavens raining diamonds is not impossible. The most striking confirmation of the meteoric theory comes from Arizona. Here, on a broad open plain, over an area about five miles in diameter, have been scattered one or two thousand masses of metallic iron, the fragments varying in weight from half a ton to a fraction of an ounce. There is no doubt these masses formed part of a meteoric shower, although no record exists as to when the fall took place. Curiously enough, near the centre, where most of the meteorites have been found, is a crater with raised edges three-quarters of a mile in diameter and about 600 feet deep, bearing exactly the appearance which would be produced had a mighty mass of iron struck the ground and buried itself deep under the surface. Altogether, ten tons of this iron have been collected, and specimens of the Canyon Diablo meteorite are in most collectors’ cabinets. An ardent mineralogist—the late Dr. Foote—cutting a section of this meteorite, found the tools were injured by something vastly harder than metallic iron. He examined the specimen chemically, and soon after announced to the scientific world that the Canyon Diablo meteorite contained black and transparent diamonds. This startling discovery was afterwards verified by Professors Moissan and Friedel, and Moissan, working on 183 kilogrammes of the Canyon Diablo meteorite, has recently found smooth black diamonds and transparent diamonds in the form of octahedra with rounded edges, together with green, hexagonal crystals of carbon silicide. The presence of carbon silicide in the meteorite shows that it must at some time have experienced the temperature of the electric furnace. Since this revelation the search for diamonds in meteorites has occupied the attention of chemists all over the world. Fig. 23 A, C, and D, are reproductions of photographs of true diamonds I myself have extracted from the Canyon Diablo meteorite. Under atmospheric influences the iron would rapidly oxidise and rust away, colouring the adjacent soil with red oxide of iron. The meteoric diamonds would be unaffected and left on the surface of the soil, to be found haphazard when oxidation had removed the last proof of their celestial origin. That there are still lumps of iron left at Arizona is merely due to the extreme dryness of the climate and the comparatively short time that the iron has been on our planet. We are here witnesses to the course of an event which may have happened in geologic times anywhere on the earth’s surface. Although in Arizona diamonds have fallen from the skies, confounding our senses, this descent of precious stones is what may be called a freak of nature rather than a normal occurrence. To the modern student of science there is no great difference between the composition of our earth and that of extra-terrestrial masses. The mineral peridot is a constant extra-terrestrial visitor, present in most meteorites. And yet no one doubts that peridot is also a true constituent of rocks formed on this earth. The spectroscope reveals that the elementary composition of the stars and the earth are pretty much the same; and the spectroscope also shows that meteorites have as much of earth as of heaven in their composition. Indeed, not only are the selfsame elements present in meteorites, but they are combined in the same way to form the same minerals as in the crust of the earth. It is certain from observations I have made, corroborated by experience gained in the laboratory, that iron at a high temperature and under great pressure—conditions existent at great depths below the surface of the earth—acts as the long-sought solvent for carbon, and will allow it to crystallise out in the form of diamond. But it is also certain, from the evidence afforded by the Arizona and other meteorites, that similar conditions have existed among bodies in space, and that on more than one occasion a meteorite freighted with jewels has fallen as a star from the sky.

1 Chemical News, Vol. I, p. 208.
2 Mr. Paterson called “limey stuff”‘ what is now termed “blue ground.” It was also formerly called “marl stuff,” “blue stuff,” and “blue clay.”
3 The original name for the Kimberley Mine. It was also sometimes known as “Colesberg Kopje.”
4 Diamonds and Gold in South Africa. By T. Reunert. Johannesburg, 1893.
5 According to Gardner Williams the South African carat is equivalent to 3.174 grains. In Latimer Clark’s Dictionary of Metric and other Useful Measures the diamond carat is given as equal to 3.1683 grains = 0.2053 gramme=4 diamond grains; 1 diamond grain = 0.792 troy grain; 151.5 diamond carats= 1 ounce troy. Webster’s International Dictionary gives the diamond carat as equal to 31/5 troy grains. The Oxford English Dictionary says the carat was originally 1/144 of an ounce, or 31/3 grains, but now equal to about 31/5 grains, though varying slightly with time and place. The Century Dictionary says the diamond carat is equal to about 31/6 troy grains, and adds that in 1877 the weight of the carat was fixed by a syndicate of London, Paris, and Amsterdam jewellers at 205 milligrammes. This would make the carat equal to 3.163 troy grains. A law has been passed in France ordaining that in the purchase or sale of diamonds and other precious stones the term “metric carat” shall be employed to designate a weight of 200 milligrammes (3.086 grains troy), and prohibiting the use of the word carat to designate any other weight.
6 Artificial tribo-luminescent sphalerite: Zinc carbonate 100 parts Flower of sulphur 30 Manganese sulphate 1/2 per cent. Mix with distilled water and dry at a gentle heat. Put in luted crucible and keep at a bright red heat for from two to three hours.
7 Sir James Dewar, in a Friday evening discourse at the Royal Institution in 1880, showed an experiment proving that the temperature of the interior of a carbon tube heated by an outside electric arc was higher than that of the oxy-hydrogen flame. He placed a few small crystals of diamond in the carbon tube, and, maintaining a current of hydrogen to prevent oxidation, raised the temperature of the tube in an electric furnace to that of the arc. In a few minutes the diamond was transformed into graphite. At first sight this would seem to show that diamond cannot be formed at temperatures above that of the arc. It is probable, however, for reasons given above, that at exceedingly high pressures the result would be different.
8 The silica was in the form of spheres, perfectly shaped and transparent, mostly colourless, but among them several of a ruby colour. When 5 per cent of silica was added to cordite, the residue of the closed vessel explosion contained a much larger quantity of these spheres.
9 A pressure of fifteen tons on the square inch would exist not many miles beneath the surface of the earth.
10 There are abundant signs that a considerable portion of this part of Africa was once under water, and a fresh-water shell has been found in apparently undisturbed blue ground at Kimberley.
11 The water sunk in wells close to the Kimberley mine is sometimes impregnated with paraffin, and Sir H. Roscoe extracted a solid hydrocarbon from the “blue ground.”
12 Chemical News, vol. Ixi, p, 209, 1890.

FINGER-RING LORE. HISTORICAL, LEGENDARY, ANECDOTAL

FINGER-RING LORE. HISTORICAL, LEGENDARY, ANECDOTAL BY WILLIAM JONES, F.S.A. WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS 4 London CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY 1877

PREFACE.


I had intended to confine my observations exclusively to the subject of
‘ring superstitions,’ but in going through a wide field of olden
literature I found so much of interest in connection with rings generally,
that I have ventured to give the present work a more varied, and, I trust,
a more attractive character.

The importance of this branch of archæology cannot be too highly
appreciated, embracing incidents, historic and social, from the earliest
times, brought to our notice by invaluable specimens of glyptic art, many
of them of the purest taste, beauty, and excellency; elucidating obscure
points in the creeds and general usages of the past, types for artistic
imitation, besides supplying links to fix particular times and events.

In thus contributing to the extension of knowledge, the subject of
ring-lore has a close affinity to that of numismatics, but it possesses
the supreme advantage of appealing to our sympathies and affections. So
Herrick sings of the wedding-ring:

And as this round
Is nowhere found
To flaw, or else to sever,
So let our love
As endless prove,
And pure as gold for ever!

It must be admitted that in many cases of particular rings it is sometimes
difficult to arrive at concurrent conclusions respecting their date and
authenticity: much has to be left to conjecture, but the pursuit of
enquiry into the past is always pleasant and instructive, however
unsuccessful in its results. One of our most eminent antiquarians writes
to me thus: ‘We must not take for granted that everything in print is
correct, for fresh information is from time to time obtained which shows
to be incorrect that which was previously written.’

My acknowledgments are due to friends at home and abroad, whose
collections of rings have been opened for my inspection with true masonic
cordiality.

I have also to thank the publishers of this work for the liberal manner in
which they have illustrated the text. Many of the engravings are from
drawings taken from the gem-room of the British, and from other museums,
and from rare and costly works on the Fine Arts, not easily accessible to
the general reader. Descriptions of rings without pictorial
representations would (as in the case of coins) materially lessen their
attraction, and would render the book what might be termed ‘a garden
without flowers.’

In conclusion I will adopt the valedictory lines of an old author, who
writes in homely and deprecatory verse:

FOR HERDE IT IS, A MAN TO ATTAYNE
TO MAKE A THING PERFYTE, AT FIRST SIGHT,
BUT WAN IT IS RED, AND WELL OVER SEYNE
FAUTES MAY BE FOUNDE, THAT NEVER CAME TO LYGHT,
THOUGH THE MAKER DO HIS DILIGENCE AND MIGHT.
PRAYEING THEM TO TAKE IT, AS I HAVE ENTENDED,
AND TO FORGYVE ME, YF THAT I HAVE OFFENDED.


FINGER-RING LORE. CHAPTER I.RINGS FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD.

The use of signet-rings as symbols of great respect and authority is
mentioned in several parts of the Holy Scriptures, from which it would
seem that they were then common among persons of rank. They were sometimes
wholly of metal, but frequently the inscription was borne on a stone, set
in gold or silver. The impression from the signet-ring of a monarch gave
the force of a royal decree to any instrument to which it was attached.
Hence the delivery or transfer of it gave the power of using the royal
name, and created the highest office in the State. In Genesis (xli. 42) we
find that Joseph had conferred upon him the royal signet as an insignia of
authority.[1] Thus Ahasuerus transferred his authority to Haman (Esther
iii. 12). The ring was also used as a pledge for the performance of a
promise: Judah promised to send Tamar, his daughter-in-law, a kid from
his flock, and for fulfilment left with her (at her desire) his signet,
his bracelet, and his staff (Genesis xxxviii. 17, 18).
Darius sealed with his ring the mouth of the den of lions (Daniel vi. 17).
Queen Jezebel, to destroy Naboth, made use of the ring of Ahab, King of
the Israelites, her husband, to seal the counterfeit letters ordering the
death of that unfortunate man.
The Scriptures tell us that, when Judith arrayed herself to meet
Holofernes, among other rich decorations she wore bracelets, ear-rings,
and rings.
The earliest materials of which rings were made was of pure gold, and the
metal usually very thin. The Israelitish people wore not only rings on
their fingers, but also in their nostrils[2] and ears. Josephus, in the
third book of his ‘Antiquities,’ states that they had the use of them
after passing the Red Sea, because Moses, on his return from Sinai, found
that the men had made the golden calf from their wives’ rings and other
ornaments.
Moses permitted the use of gold rings to the priests whom he had
established. The nomad people called Midianites, who were conquered by
Moses, and eventually overthrown by Gideon (Numbers xxxi.), possessed
large numbers of rings among their personal ornaments.
The Jews wore the signet-ring on the right hand, as appears from a passage
in Jeremiah (xxii. 24). The words of the Lord are uttered against
Zedekiah: ‘though Coniah the son of Jehoiakim, King of Judah, were the
signet on my right hand, yet would I pluck thee thence.’
We are not to assume, however, that all ancient seals, being signets, were
rings intended to be worn on the hand. ‘One of the largest Egyptian
signets I have seen,’ remarks Sir J. G. Wilkinson, ‘was in possession of a
French gentleman of Cairo, which contained twenty pounds’ worth of gold.
It consisted of a massive ring, half an inch in its largest diameter,
bearing an oblong plinth, on which the devices were engraved, 1 inch long,
6/10ths in its greatest, and 4/10ths in its smallest, breadth. On one side
was the name of a king, the successor of Amunoph III., who lived about
fourteen hundred years before Christ; on the other a lion, with the legend
“Lord of Strength,” referring to the monarch. On one side a scorpion, and
on the other a crocodile.’
This ring passed into the Waterton Dactyliotheca, and is now the property
of the South Kensington Museum.
Rings of inferior metal, engraved with the king’s name, may, probably,
have been worn by officials of the court. In the Londesborough collection
is a bronze ring, bearing on the oval face the name of Amunoph III., the
same monarch known to the Greeks as ‘Memnon.’ The other ring, also of
bronze, has engraved on the face a scarabæus. Such rings were worn by the
Egyptian soldiers.
In the British Museum are some interesting specimens of Egyptian rings
with representations of the scarabæus,[3] or beetle. These rings generally
bear the name of the wearer, the name of the monarch in whose reign he
lived, and also the emblems of certain deities; they were so set in the
gold ring as to allow the scarabæus to revolve on its centre, it being
pierced for that purpose.
Colonel Barnet possesses an Egyptian signet-ring formed by a scarabæus set
in gold. It was found on the little finger of a splendid gilded mummy at
Thebes. In all probability the wearer of the ring had been a royal scribe,
as by his side was found a writing-tablet of stone. On the breast was a
large scarabæus of green porphyry, set in gold.
The Rev. Henry Mackenzie, of Yarmouth, possesses an Egyptian scarabæus, a
signet-ring, set with an intaglio, on cornelian, found in the bed of a
deserted branch of the Euphrates, in the district of Hamadân in Persia.
The engraving is unfinished, the work is polished in the intaglio, and the
date has therefore been supposed not later than the time of the Greeks in
Persia, _circa_ 325 B.C.
The representations here given illustrate the large and massive Egyptian
signet-ring, and also a lighter kind of hooped signet, ‘as generally worn
at a somewhat more recent period in Egypt. The gold loop passes through a
small figure of the sacred beetle, the flat under-side being engraved with
the device of a crab.’
In the British Museum, in the first Egyptian Room, is the signet-ring of
Queen Sebek-nefru (Sciemiophris). ‘Sebek’ was a popular component of
proper names after the twelfth dynasty, probably because this queen was
beloved by the people. On Assyrian sculptures are found armlets and
bracelets; rings do not appear to have been generally worn.
At a meeting of the Society of Biblical Archæology, in June 1873, Dr. H.
F. Talbot, F.R.S., read an interesting paper on the legend of ‘Ishtar
descending to Hades,’ in which he translated from the tablets the
goddess’s voluntary descent into the Assyrian _Inferno_. In the cuneiform
it is called ‘the land of no return.’ Ishtar passes successively through
the seven gates, compelled to surrender her jewels, viz. her crown,
ear-rings, head-jewels, frontlets, girdle, _finger-_ and toe-_rings_, and
necklace. A cup full of the Waters of Life is given to her, whereby she
returns to the upper world, receiving at each gate of Hades the jewels she
had been deprived of in her descent.
Mr. Greene, F.S.A., has an Egyptian gold ring, formerly in the possession
of the late Mr. Salt, belonging to the nineteenth dynasty, probably from
the Lower Country, below Memphis. It is engraved with a representation of
the goddess Nephthis, or Neith. Another gold ring of a later period, from
the Upper Country, dates, probably, from the time of Psammitichus, B.C.
671 to 617.
In the collection of Egyptian antiquities formed by the late R. Hay, Esq.,
of Limplum, N.B., were two Græco-Egyptian gold rings, found, it is
conjectured, in the Aasa-seef, near Thebes. One of these is of the usual
signet form, but without an inscription; the other is of an Etruscan
pattern, and is composed of a spiral wire, whose extremities end in a
twisted loop, with knob-like intersections. Both these objects are of fine
workmanship, and are wrought in very pure gold. Sir J. G. Wilkinson, in
‘Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians,’ remarks: ‘The rings were
mostly of gold, and this metal seems always to have been preferred to
silver for rings and other articles of jewellery. Silver rings are,
however, occasionally to be met with, and two in my possession, which were
accidentally found in a temple at Thebes, are engraved with hieroglyphics,
containing the name of the royal city. Bronze was seldom used for rings;
some have been discovered of brass and iron (of a Roman time), but ivory
and blue porcelain were the materials of which those worn by the lower
classes were usually made.’
The Rev. C. W. King observes: ‘I have seen finger-rings of ivory of the
Egyptian period, their heads engraved with sphinxes and figures of eyes
cut in low relief as camei, and originally coloured.’
The porcelain finger-rings of ancient Egypt are extremely beautiful, the
band of the ring being seldom above one eighth of an inch in thickness.
Some have a plate in which in bas-relief is the god Baal, full-faced,
playing on the tambourine, as the inventor of music; others have their
plates in the shape of the right symbolical eye, the emblem of the sun, of
a fish of the perch species, or of a scarabæus. Some few represent
flowers. Those which have elliptical plates with hieroglyphical
inscriptions bear the names of Amen-Ra, and of other gods and monarchs, as
Amenophis III., Amenophis IV., and Amenmest of the eighteenth and
nineteenth dynasties. One of these rings has a little bugle on each side,
as if it had been strung on the beaded work of a mummy, instead of being
placed on the finger. Blue is the prevalent colour, but a few white and
yellow rings, and some even ornamented with red and purple colours, have
been discovered. It is scarcely credible that these rings, of a substance
finer and more fragile than glass, were worn during life, and it seems
hardly likely that they were worn by the poorer classes, for the use of
the king’s name on sepulchral objects seems to have been restricted to
functionaries of state. Some larger rings of porcelain of about an inch in
diameter, seven-eighths of an inch broad, and one-sixteenth of an inch
thick, made in open work, represents the constantly-repeated
lotus-flowers, and the god Ra, or the sun, seated and floating through the
heavens in his boat.
At the Winchester meeting of the Archæological Institute in 1845 a curious
swivel-ring of blue porcelain was exhibited, found at Abydus in Upper
Egypt; setting modern. It has a double impression: on the one side is the
king making an offering to the gods, with the emblems of life and purity;
on the other side the name of the monarch in the usual ‘cartouche,’ one
that is well known, being that of Thothmes III., whom Wilkinson supposes
to have been the Pharaoh of Exodus. It is worthy of remark that this
cartouche is ‘supported’ by asps, which are usually considered to be the
attributes of royalty.
The annexed engraving represents an Egyptian ring, _en pâte céramique_,
from M. Dieulafait’s ‘Diamants et Pierres Précieuses.’
The signet of Sennacherib in the British Museum is made of Amazon stone,
one of the hardest stones known to the lapidary, and bears an intaglio
‘which,’ observes the Rev. C. W. King, ‘by its extreme minuteness, and
the precision of the drawing, displays the excellence to which the art had
already attained.’
On a mummy-case in the British Museum is a representation of a woman with
crossed hands, covered with rings; the left hand is most loaded. Upon the
thumb is a signet with hieroglyphics on the surface, three rings on the
forefinger, two on the second, one formed like a snail shell, the same
number on the next, and one on the little finger. The right hand carries
only a thumb ring, and two upon the third finger.
Sir J. G. Wilkinson observes: ‘The left was considered the hand peculiarly
privileged to bear these ornaments; and it is remarkable that its third
finger was decorated with a greater number than any other, and was
considered by them, as by us, _par excellence_, the ring-finger, though
there is no evidence of its having been so honoured at the marriage
ceremony.’
The same author mentions that rings were a favourite decoration among the
Egyptians; women wore sometimes two or three on the same finger. They
were frequently worn on the thumb. Some were simple, others had an
engraved stone, and frequently bore the name of the owner; others the
monarch in whose time he lived, and they were occasionally in the form of
a snail, a knot, a snake, or some fancy device. A cat–emblem of the
goddess Bast, or Pasht, the Egyptian Diana–was a favourite subject for
ladies’ rings.
One of the oldest, if not the most ancient ring known, is supposed to be
that in the collection of Dr. Abbot, of Cairo, now preserved with his
other Egyptian antiquities at New York. It is thus described by
him:–‘This remarkable piece of antiquity is in the highest state of
preservation, and was found at Ghizeh, in a tomb near the excavation of
Colonel Vyse, called Campbell’s tomb. It is of fine gold, and weighs
nearly three sovereigns. The style of the hieroglyphics within the oval
make the name of that Pharaoh (Cheops, Shofo) of whom the pyramid was the
tomb. The details are minutely accurate and beautifully executed. The
heaven is engraved with stars; the fox or jackal has significant lines
within its contour; the hatchets have their handles bound with thongs, as
is usual in the sculptures; the volumes have the strings which bind them
hanging below the roll–differing in this respect from any example in
sculptured or painted hieroglyphics. The determinative for country is
studded with dots, representing the land of the mountains at the margin of
the valley of Egypt. The instrument, as in the larger hieroglyphics, has
the tongue and semi-lunar mark of the sculptured examples; as is the case
also with the heart-shaped vase. The name is surmounted with the globe and
feathers, decorated in the usual manner; and the ring of the cartouche is
engraved with marks representing a rope, never seen in the sculptures; and
the only instance of a royal name similarly encircled is a porcelain
example in this collection, inclosing the name of the father of Sesostris.
The O in the name is placed as in the examples sculptured in the tombs,
not in the axis of the cartouche; the chickens have their unfledged wings;
the cerastes its horns, now only to be seen with a magnifying glass.’
In a lecture to the deaf and dumb in St. Saviour’s Hall, Oxford Street,
London (October 1875), on ‘Eastern Manners and Customs,’ amongst various
relics exhibited was the hand of a female mummy, on one finger of which
was a gold ring, with the signet of one of the Pharaohs.
A gold ring exhibited at the exhibition of antiquities at the Ironmongers’
Hall, in 1861, had hieroglyphics meaning ‘protected by the living goddess
Mu.’
Among some interesting specimens of Egyptian rings exhibited at the South
Kensington Loan Exhibition of 1872 I may mention an antique ring of pale
gold, with a long oval bezel chased in intaglio, with representation of a
_sistrum_ (timbrel, used by the Egyptians in their religious ceremonies),
the property of Viscount Hawarden; an antique ring of pale gold (belonging
to Lady Ashburton), formed of a slender wire, the ends twisted round the
shoulders, upon which is strung a signet, in form of a cat, made of
greenish-blue glazed earthenware.
From the collection of R. H. Soden Smith, Esq. F.S.A., an ancient pale
gold ring, with revolving cylinders of lapis-lazuli, engraved with
hieroglyphics; the shoulders of the hoop wrapped round with wire ornament.
The Waterton Collection contains Egyptian rings of various descriptions:
one of silver, with revolving bezel of cornelian representing the
symbolical right eye. Several rings of glazed earthenware; one of gold,
very massive, with revolving scarab of glazed earthenware, partially
encased in gold. A gold ring, the hoop of close-corded work, revolving
bezel with blood-stone scarab, engraved with Hathor and child. The same
engraving is on a gold signet-ring, with vesica-shaped bezel, and upon a
white-metal ring, where the figures are surrounded by lotus-flowers.
Another gold signet-ring is engraved with the figure of Amen-ra; a
probably Egyptian white-metal ring, with narrow oblong bezel, engraved
with a frieze of figures, and winged Genii, divided by candelabra.
Several of the Egyptian rings in the Museum of the Louvre at Paris date
from the reign of King Mœris. One of the oldest rings extant is that of
Cheops, the founder of the Great Pyramid, which was found in a tomb there.
It is of gold, with hieroglyphics.
The Egyptian glass-workers produced small mosaics of the most minute and
delicate finish, and sufficiently small to be worn on rings.
Dr. Birch, in a very interesting paper communicated to the Society of
Antiquaries, at the meeting of November 17, 1870, observes, with regard to
the scarabæi and signet-rings of the ancient Egyptians, that the use of
these curious objects (the exhibition comprising upwards of five hundred
scarabs from the collection of Egyptian antiquities formed by the late R.
Hay, Esq., of Sinplum, N.B., to which I have alluded) dates back from a
remote period of Egyptian history. ‘As it is well known, they were not
merely made in porcelain, but also in steatite, or stea-schist, and the
various semi-precious stones suitable for engraving, such as cornelian,
sard, and such-like.’ In the time of the twelfth dynasty the cylindrical
ring, also found in use among the Assyrians and Babylonians, came into
vogue. The hard stones and gems were of later introduction, probably under
the influence of Greek art, for the ancient Egyptians themselves do not
appear to have possessed the method of cutting such hard substances. A
few, however, exist, which are clearly of great antiquity–as, for
example, a specimen in yellow jasper now in the British Museum.
The principal purpose to which these scarabs were applied was to form the
revolving bezel of a signet-ring, the substance in which the impression
was taken being a soft clay, with which a letter was sealed.
It is singular that some of these objects have been found in rings fixed
with the plane engraved side inwards, rendering them unfit for the
purposes of sealing. It is well known that the use of these scarabs was so
extensive as to have prevailed beyond Egypt, being adopted by the
Phœnicians and the Etruscans.
On this subject the Rev. C. W. King remarks that gold rings, even of the
Etruscan period, are very rare, the signets of that nation still retaining
the form of scarabæi. ‘The most magnificent Etruscan ring known, belonging
once to the Prince de Canino, and now in the matchless collection of
antique gems in the British Museum, is formed of the fore-parts of two
lions, whose bodies compose the shank, whilst their heads and fore-paws
support the signet–a small sand scarab, engraved with a _lion regardant_,
and set in an elegant bezel of filagree-work. The two lions are beaten up
in full relief of thin gold plate, in a stiff archaic style, but very
carefully finished.’
The Waterton Collection contains a gold ring of Etruscan workmanship, of
singular beauty. It is described by Padre Geruchi, of the Sacred College,
as a betrothal or nuptial ring. It has figures of Hercules and Juno placed
back to back on the hoop, having their arms raised above their heads.
Hercules is covered with the skin of a lion, Juno with that of a goat.
Fairholt, in ‘Rambles of an Archæologist,’ describes an ancient Etruscan
ring in the British Museum, with chimeræ on it opposing each other. The
style and treatment partake largely of ancient Eastern art. There is also
in the same collection a remarkable ring having the convolutions of a
serpent, the head of Serapis at one extremity and of Isis at the other; by
this arrangement one or other of them would always be correctly posited;
it has, also, the further advantage of being flexible, owing to the great
sweep of its curve. Silver rings are rarer than those of gold in the
tombs of Etruria, and iron and bronze examples are gilt.
All the Hindoo Mogul divinities of antiquity had rings; the statues of the
gods at Elephanta, supposed to be of the highest antiquity, had
finger-rings.
The Rev. C. W. King describes a ring in the Waterton collection, of
remarkable interest–apparently dating from the Lower Empire, for the head
is much thrown up, and has the sides pierced into a pattern, the
‘_interrasile opus_, so much in fashion during those times. It is set with
two diamonds of (probably) a carat each: one a perfect octahedron of
considerable lustre, the other duller and irregularly crystallised.
Another such example might be sought for in vain throughout the largest
cabinets of Europe.’
After the conquest of Asia Alexander the Great used the signet-ring of
Darius to seal his edicts to the Persians; his own signet he used for
those addressed to the Greeks.
Xerxes, King of Persia, was a great gem-fancier, but his chief signet was
a portrait, either of himself, or of Cyrus, the founder of the monarchy.
He also wore a ring with the figure of Anaitis, the Babylonian Venus, upon
it. Thucydides says that the Persian kings honoured their subjects by
giving them rings with the likenesses of Darius and Cyrus.
The late Mr. Fairholt purchased in Cairo a ring worn by an Egyptian lady
of the higher class. It is a simple hoop of twisted gold, to which hangs a
series of pendant ornaments, consisting of small beads of coral, and thin
plates of gold, cut to represent the leaves of a plant. As the hands move,
these ornaments play about the finger, and a very brilliant effect might
be produced if diamonds were used in the pendants.
The rings worn by the middle class of Egyptian men are usually of silver,
set with mineral stones, and are valued as the work of the silversmiths of
Mecca, that sacred city being supposed to exert a holy influence on all
the works it originates.
A curious ring with a double keeper is worn by Egyptian men. It is
composed entirely of common cast silver, set with mineral stone. The
lowermost keeper, of twisted wire, is first put on the finger, then
follows the ring. The second keeper is then brought down upon it: the two
being held by a brace which passes at the back of the ring, and gives
security to the whole.
Tavernier states in his ‘Travels’ that the Persians did not make gold
rings, their religion forbidding the wearing of any article of that metal
during prayers, it would have been too troublesome to take them off every
time they performed their devotions. The gems mounted in gold rings, sold
by Tavernier to the King, were reset in silver by native workmen.
The custom of wearing rings may have been introduced into Greece from
Asia, and into Italy from Greece. They served the twofold purpose,
ornamental and useful, being employed as a seal, which was called
_sphragis_, a name given to the gem or stone on which figures were
engraved. The Homeric poems make mention of ear-rings only, but in the
later Greek legends the ancient heroes are represented as wearing
finger-rings. Counterfeit stones in rings are mentioned in the time of
Solon. Transparent stones when extracted from the remains of the original
iron-rings of the ancients are sometimes found backed by a leaf of red
gold as a foil.[4] The use of coloured foils was merely to deceive and
impose upon the unwary, by giving to a very inferior jewel the finest
colour. Solon made a law prohibiting sellers of rings from keeping the
model of a ring they had sold.
The Lacedæmonians, according to the laws of Lycurgus, had only iron rings,
despising those of gold; either that the King devised thereby to retrench
luxury, or not to permit the use of them.
The Etruscans and the Sabines wore rings at the period of the foundation
of Rome, 753 B.C.
The Etruscans made rings of great value. They have been found of every
variety–with precious stones, of massive gold, very solid, with engraved
stones of remarkable beauty. Among Etruscan rings in the Musée Nap. III.
the table of one offers a representation, enlarged, of the story of
Admētus, the King of Pheræ in Thessaly. He took part in the expedition of
the Argonauts, and sued for the hand of Alcestis, the daughter of Pelias,
who promised him to her on condition that he should come to her in a
chariot drawn by lions and boars. This feat Admētus performed by the
assistance of Apollo, who served him, according to some accounts, out of
attachment to him, or, according to others, because he was obliged to
serve a mortal for one year, for having slain the Cyclops.
Among rings taken out of the tombs there are some in the form of a knot or
of a serpent. They are frequently found with shields of gold, and of that
form which we call Gothic, that is elliptical and pointed, called by
foreigners _ogive_, with raised subjects chiselled on the gold, or with
onyxs of the same form, but polished and surrounded with gold. There are
some particular rings which appear more adapted to be used as seals than
rings, and they have on the shields, relievos of much more arched, and
almost Egyptian, form.[5]
Among the antique jewels at the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris are two
fine specimens of Etruscan rings. One is of gold, on which is a scarabæus
in cornelian; the stomach of the scarabæus is engraved hollow and
represents a naked man holding a vase. The other is a gold ring found in a
tomb at Etruria, of which the bezel, sculptured in relief, could not serve
as a seal. The subject is a divinity combating with two spirits, a
representation of the eastern idea of the struggles between the two
principles of good and evil, such as are found on numerous cylinders that
come from the borders of the Euphrates and the Tigris. This analogy
between the religious ideas of the Etruscans and those of the most ancient
monuments of the East is not astonishing when it is shown that the
Etruscans, the ancient inhabitants of Italy, were originally from Asia.
The following engraving represents an intaglio on a scarabæus ring, of
fine workmanship, preserved in Vienna.
At a meeting of the Archæological Institute (May 3, 1850) the Dowager
Duchess of Cleveland exhibited a curious Roman ring of pure gold (weight
182 grains), of which an illustration is given in the Journal of the
Institute (vol. vii. p. 190). ‘It was found, with other remains, at Pierse
Bridge (AD TISAM), county of Durham, where the vestiges of a rectangular
encampment may be distinctly traced. The hoop, wrought by the hammer, is
joined by welding the extremities together; to this is attached an oval
facet, the metal engraved in intaglio, the impress being two human heads
_respectant_, probably male and female–the prototype of the numerous
“love seals” of a later period. The device on the ring is somewhat
effaced, but evidently represented two persons gazing at each other. This
is not the first Roman example of the kind found in England. The device
appears on a ring, apparently of that period, found on Stanmore Common in
1781. On the mediæval seals alluded to, the heads are usually accompanied
by the motto “Love me, and I thee,” to which, also, a counterpart is found
among relics of a more remote age. Galeotti, in his curious illustrations
of the “Gemmæ Antiquæ Litteratæ,” in the collection of Ficoroni, gives an
intaglio engraved with the words “Amo te, ama me.”’
The following engravings represent: A ring in the Musée du Louvre, with a
lion sculptured by a Greek artist, in an oriental cornelian; the reverse
has an intaglio of a lion _couchant_. The second, from the Webb
Collection, is that of an ancient Greek ring, of solid gold, with the
representation of a comic mask in high relief. The other, a gold ring with
a bearded mask, Roman, in the Waterton Collection at the South Kensington
Museum–also in high relief–has the shoulders thickened with fillets,
engraved with stars.
A singular discovery of Roman relics was made in 1824 at Terling Place,
near Witham, Essex, by some workmen forming a new road; the earth being
soaked by heavy rains the cart-wheels sank up to their naves. The driver
of the cart saw some white spots upon the mud adhering to the wheels,
which proved to be coins. On further search a small vase was discovered in
which had been deposited with some coins, two gold rings, which are
interesting examples of late Roman work; and representations of these, by
Lord Rayleigh’s permission, were given in the ‘Journal of the
Archæological Institute’ (vol. iii. p. 163) and are here shown. One of the
rings is set with a colourless crackly crystal, or _pasta_, uncut and _en
cabochon_; the other with a paste formed of two layers, the upper being of
a dull smalt colour, the lower dark brown. The device is apparently an
ear of corn.
The Hertz Collection contained a well-formed octahedral diamond, about a
carat in weight, set open in a Roman ring of unquestionable authenticity.
At the Loan Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South
Kensington Museum, in 1872, John Evans Esq., F.S.A., contributed a series
of seven rings, gold and silver, Roman, set with antique stones; one very
massive, of silver and gold, set with intaglio on nicolo onyx; one with an
angular hoop, and another with beaded ornaments.
‘Though,’ remarks Mr. Fairholt, ‘a great variety of form and detail was
adopted by Greek and Roman goldsmiths for the rings they so largely
manufactured, the most general and lasting resembled a Roman ring,
probably of the time of Hadrian, which is said to have been found in the
Roman camp at Silchester, Berkshire. The gold of the ring is massive at
the face, making a strong setting for the cornelian, which is engraved
with the figure of a female bearing corn and fruit. By far the greater
majority of Roman rings exhumed at home and abroad are of this fashion,
which recommends itself by a dignified simplicity, telling by quantity and
quality of metal and stone its true value, without any obtrusive aid.’
Sometimes a single ring was constructed to appear like a group of two or
three upon the finger. Mr. Charles Edwards, of New York, in his ‘History
and Poetry of Finger Rings,’ has given an example of this kind of ring.
Upon the wide part of each are two letters, the whole forming ‘ZHCAIC,’
_mayst thou live!_
‘The simplest and most useful form of rings, and that by consequence
adopted by people of all early nations, was the plain elastic hoop. Cheap
in construction and convenient in wear, it may be safely said to have been
generally patronised from the most ancient to the most modern times.’ An
engraving by Mr. Fairholt represents ‘the old form of a ring made in the
shape of a coiled serpent, equally ancient, equally far-spread in the old
world, and which has had a very large sale among ourselves as a decided
novelty. In fact, it has been the most successful design our ring-makers
have produced of late years.’
The statues of Numa and Servius Tullius were represented with rings, while
those of the other Kings had none; which would induce the belief that the
use of rings was little known in the early days of Rome. Pliny[6] states
that the first date in Roman history in which he could trace any general
use of rings was in A.U.C. 449, in the time of Cneius Flavius, the son of
Annius. Less than a century before Christ, Mithridates, the famous King of
Pontus, possessed a museum of signet-rings; later, Scaurus, the stepson of
the Dictator, Sylla, had a collection of signet-rings, but inferior to
that of Mithridates, which, having become the spoil of Pompey, was
presented by him to the Capitol.
In Rome every freeman had the right to use the iron ring, which was worn
to the last period of the Republic, by such men as loved the simplicity of
the good old times. Among these was Marius, who, as Pliny tells us, wore
an iron ring in his triumph after the subjugation of Jugurtha. In the
early days of the Empire the _jus annuli_ seems to have elevated the
wearer to the equestrian order. Those who committed any crime forfeited
the distinction, and this shows us the estimation in which the ring, as an
emblem of honour, was regarded.
We are told of Cæsar that when addressing his soldiers after the passage
of the Rubicon he often held up the little finger of his left hand,
protesting that he would pledge even to his ring to satisfy the claims of
those who defended his cause. The soldiers of the furthest ranks, who
could see but not hear him, mistaking the gesture, imagined that he was
promising to each man the dignity of a Roman Knight.
Gold rings appear to have been first worn by ambassadors to a foreign
State, but only during a diplomatic mission; in private they wore their
iron ones.
In the course of time it became customary for all the senators, chief
magistrates, and the _equites_ to wear a gold seal-ring. This practice,
which was subsequently termed the _jus annuli aurei_, or the _jus
annulorum_, remained for several centuries at Rome their exclusive
privilege, while others continued to wear the iron ring. In Plutarch’s
Life of Caius Marius he mentions that the slaves of Cornutus concealed
their master at home, and hanging up by the neck the body of some obscure
person, and putting a gold ring on his finger, they showed him to the
guards of Marius, and then wrapping up the body as if it were their
master’s, they interred it.
Magistrates and governors of provinces seem to have possessed the
privilege of conferring upon inferior officers, or such persons as had
distinguished themselves, the right of wearing a gold ring. Verres thus
presented his secretary with a gold ring in the assembly at Syracuse.
Montfaucon mentions in his ‘Antiquity Explained’ (English Edition, 1722,
vol. iii. p. 146), a Greek seal-ring, which has the shape of a crescent.
An illustration is here given of a similarly-formed Roman ring, with the
letters Q. S. P. Q., Quintanus Senatus Populusque, from the ‘Gemmæ Antiquæ
Litteratæ.’
Some wore rings of gold, covered with a plate of iron. Trimalchion wore
two rings, one upon the little finger of his left hand, which was a large
gilt one, and the other of gold, set with stars of iron upon the middle of
the ring-finger. Some rings were hollow, and others solid. The _Flamines
Diales_ could only wear the former.
During the Empire the right of granting the privilege of a gold ring
belonged to the emperors, and some were not very scrupulous in conferring
this distinction.
Severus and Aurelian granted this privilege to all Roman soldiers;
Justinian allowed all citizens of the empire to wear such rings.
But there always seems to have been a difficulty in restricting the use of
the gold ring. Tiberius (A.D. 22) allowed its use to all whose fathers and
grandfathers had property of the value of 400,000 sestertia (3,230_l._).
The restriction, however, was of little avail, and the ambition for the
_annulus aureus_ became greater than it had ever been before.
Juvenal, in his eleventh ‘Satire,’ alludes to a spendthrift who, after
consuming his estate, has nothing but his ring:–
At length, when nought remains a meal to bring,
The last poor shift, off comes the Knightly ring,
And sad Sir Pollio begs his daily fare,
With undistinguished hands, and fingers bare.
Martial attacks a person under the name of Zoilus, who had been raised
from a state of servitude to Knighthood, and was determined to make the
ring, the badge of his new honour, sufficiently conspicuous:–
Zoile, quid tota gemmam præcingere libra
Te juvat, et miserum perdire sardonycha?
Annulus iste tuus fuerat modo cruribus aptus;
Non eadem digitis pondera conveniunt.
The keeping of the imperial ring (_cura annuli_) was confided to a state
keeper, as the Great Seal with us is placed in custody of the Lord
Chancellor.
With the increasing love of luxury and show, the Romans, as well as the
Greeks, covered their fingers with rings, and some wore different ones for
summer and winter, immoderate both in number and size.[7] The accompanying
illustrations represent a huge ring of coloured paste, all of one piece,
blue colour–one of the rings of inexpensive manufacture in popular use
among the lower classes. It is smaller on one side, to occupy less space
on the index or little finger.
The following illustrates a supposed Gallo-Roman ring of outrageous
proportions, similar to those complained of by Livy (xxxiii., see
Appendix), for their extravagant size. It is of bronze, and supposed to
represent a cow or bull seated, with a bell round the neck.
Heavy rings of gold of a sharp triangular outline were worn on the little
finger in the later time of the Empire. A thumb-ring of unusual magnitude
and of costly material is represented in Montfaucon. It bears the bust in
high relief of the Empress Plotina, the consort of Trajan: she is
represented with the imperial diadem. It is supposed to have decorated the
hand of some member of the imperial family. The Rev. C. W. King mentions a
ring in the Fould Collection (dispersed by auction in 1860), the weight of
which, although intended for the little finger, was three ounces. It was
set with a large Oriental onyx, not engraved.
Juvenal alludes to the ‘season’ rings:–
Charged with light summer rings his fingers sweat,
Unable to support a gem of weight.
The custom of wearing numerous rings must have been at a comparatively
early period: it is alluded to both by Plato and Aristophanes. According
to Martial, one Clarinus wore daily no less than sixty rings: ‘Senos
Clarinus omnibus digitis gerit,’ and, what is more remarkable, he loved to
sleep wearing them, ‘nec nocte ponit annulos.’ Quintilian notices the
custom of wearing numerous rings: ‘The hand must not be overloaded with
rings, especially with such as do not pass over the middle joints of the
finger.’ Demosthenes wore many rings and he was stigmatised as
unbecomingly vain for doing so in the troubled times of the State.
Seneca, describing the luxury and ostentation of the time, says: ‘We adorn
our fingers with rings, and a jewel is displayed on every joint.’
As a proof of the universality of gold rings as ornaments in ancient
times, we are told that three bushels of them were gathered out of the
spoils after Hannibal’s victory at Cannæ. This was after the second Punic
war.
According to Mr. Waterton it is believed that gems were not mounted in
rings prior to the LXII. Olympiad.
Nero, we are informed, during his choral exhibitions in the circus, was
attended by children, each of whom wore a gold ring. Galba’s guard, of the
_Equites_, had gold rings as a distinguishing badge.
Rock crystal appears to have been much in use among the Romans for making
solid finger-rings carved out of one single piece, the face engraved with
some intaglio serving for a signet.
‘All those known to me,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King in ‘Precious Stones,’
&c., ‘have the shank moulded into a twisted cable; one example bore for
device the Christian monogram, which indicates the date of the fashion. It
would seem that these rings superseded and answered the same purpose as
the balls of crystal carried at an earlier period by ladies in their hands
for the sake of the delicious coolness during the summer heat.’
Stone rings were in common use, formed chiefly of chalcedony. ‘It is most
probable,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King, ‘that the first ideas of these
stone rings were borrowed by the Romans from the Persian conical and
hemispherical seals in the same material. Some of these latter have their
sides flattened, and ornamented with divers patterns, and thus assume the
form of a finger-ring, with an enormously massy shank and very small
opening, sufficient, however, to admit the little finger. And this theory
of their origin is corroborated by the circumstance that all these Lower
Roman examples belong to the times of the Empire, none being ever met with
of an early date.’
Silver rings were common: Pliny relates that Arellius Fuscus, when
expelled from the equestrian order, and thus deprived of the right of
wearing a gold ring, appeared in public with silver rings on his fingers.
Among the ancient jewels in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris is a fine
Roman ring, of which the bezel, a cornelian graved hollow, represents a
Janus with four faces.
Another Roman ring, also of gold, is attributed to the epoch of the
Emperor Hadrian. The three golden figures represented on it are those of
Egyptian deities, which have suffered under the hands of a Roman jeweller.
It is, however, possible to distinguish them as one of the most important
of the Egyptian Pantheon; that is to say, Horus, Isis, and Nephtys.
Isis-Hathor is shown with cow’s ears; she has near her Horus-Harpocrates,
her son, who is crowned with the _schent_; the mother and child rise from
a lotus flower: on the left is Nephtys, crowned with a hieroglyphic
emblem, accidentally incomplete, but the signification of which is the
name even of this divinity, ‘the lady of this house.’
Montfaucon, in his ‘L’Antiquité Expliquée,’ describes a ring with a gem
engraved representing Bellerophon, Pegasus, and the Chimæra. The hero,
riding on his famous horse, in the air, throws a dart at the monster
below, whose first head is that of a lion, the goat’s head appears on her
back, and her tail terminates in a large head of a serpent. This ring was
found on the road to Tivoli, among some ashes of a dead body.
Montfaucon gives the contents of a Roman lady’s jewel box cut upon the
pedestal supporting a statue of Isis, and amongst other rich articles for
female decoration are, for her little finger, two rings with _diamonds_;
on the next finger a ring with many gems (_polypsephus_), emeralds, and
one pearl. On the _top joint_ of the same finger, a ring with an emerald.
The Roman ladies were prodigal in their display of rings: we read that
Faustina spent 40,000_l._ of our money, and Domitia 60,000_l._ for single
rings. Greek women wore chiefly ivory and amber rings, and these were less
costly and numerous than those used by men.
The Rev. C. W. King remarks of Roman rings that if of early date, and set
with good intagli, they are almost invariably hollow and light, and
consequently are easily crushed. Cicero relates of L. Piso, that ‘while
prætor in Spain he was going through the military exercises, when the gold
ring which he wore was, by some accident, broken and crushed. Wishing to
have another ring made for himself, he ordered a goldsmith to be summoned
to the forum at Cordova, in front of his own judgment-seat, and weighed
out the gold to him in public. He ordered the man to set down his bench in
the forum, and make the ring for him in the presence of all, to prove that
he had not employed the gold of the public treasury, but had made use only
of his broken ring.’
The signs engraved on rings were very various, including portraits of
friends and ancestors, and subjects connected with mythology and religion.
In the reign of Claudius no ring was to bear the portrait of the emperor
without a special licence, but Vespasian, some time after, issued an
edict, permitting the imperial image to be engraven on rings and brooches.
Besides the figures of great personages, there were also representations
of popular events: thus, on Pompey’s ring, like that of Sylla, were three
trophies, emblems of his three victories in Europe, Asia, and Africa.
After the murder of this great general, his seal-ring, as Plutarch tells
us, was brought to Cæsar, who shed tears on receiving it. The Roman senate
refused to credit the news of the death of Pompey, until Cæsar produced
before them his seal-ring.
On the ring of Julius Cæsar was a representation of an armed Venus, as he
claimed to be a descendant of the goddess. This device was adopted by his
partisans; on that of Augustus, first a sphinx; afterwards the image of
Alexander the Great, and at last, his own portrait, which succeeding
emperors continued to use.[8
Among the ancients the figures engraved on rings were not hereditary, and
each assumed that which pleased him. Numa had made a law prohibiting
representations of the gods, but custom abrogated the ordinance, and the
Romans had engraved in their rings not only figures of their own deities,
but those of other countries, especially of the Egyptians. The physician
Asclepiades had a ring with Urania represented upon it. Scipio the African
had a sphinx; Cornelius Scipio Africanus, younger son of the great
Africanus, wore the portrait of his father, but as his conduct was
unworthy of the character of his illustrious sire the people expressed
their disgust by depriving him of the ring. Sylla had a Jugurtha; the
Epicureans, a head of Epicurus; Commodus, an Amazon, the portrait of his
mistress Martia; Aristomenes, an Agathocles, King of Sicily; Callicrates,
a Ulysses; the Greeks, Helen; the Trojans, Pergamus; the inhabitants of
Heraclia, a Hercules; the Athenians, Solon; the Lacedæmonians, Lycurgus;
the Alexandrians, an Alexander; the Seleucians, Seleucus; Mæcenas, a frog;
Pompey, a dog on the prow of a ship; the Kings of Sparta, an eagle holding
a serpent in its claws; Darius, the son of Hystaspes, a horse; the
infamous Sperus, the rape of Proserpine; the Locrians, Hesperus, or the
evening star; Polycrates, a lyre; Seleucus, an anchor.
The Rev. C. W. King, in ‘Antique Gems,’ informs us that ‘the earliest
mention of a ring-stone in relief occurs in Seneca, who, in a curious
anecdote which he tells (“De Beneficiis,” iii. 26) concerning the informer
Maro and a certain Paulus, speaks of the latter as having had on his
finger on that occasion a portrait of Tiberius in relief upon a projecting
gem, “Tiberii Cæsaris imaginem ectypam atque eminente gemma.” This
periphrasis would seem to prove that such a representation was not very
common at the time, or else a technical term would have been used to
express that particular kind of gem-engraving.’
Among the discoveries made during some excavations at Canterbury in 1868
was a Roman ring of exceedingly pure gold, the stone being a very fine and
highly-polished onyx, engraved with a Ganymede.
At a meeting of the Archæological Institute at Norwich in 1847 a fine gold
Roman ring found at Caistor was exhibited, set with an intaglio on onyx,
the subject being the Genius of Victory. The following illustrations of
engraved Roman rings are taken from Montfaucon’s ‘L’Antiquité
Expliquée’:–
The following engraving (from Gorlæus) refers to the story of Masinissa
and Sophonisba, well known to classical readers. She was betrothed at a
very early age to the Numidian prince, but was afterwards married to
Syphax, B.C. 206. This warrior, in a battle with Masinissa, was conquered,
and Sophonisba became a prisoner to the Numidian prince, who, won by her
charms, married her. Scipio, fearing her influence, persisted in his
immediate surrender of the princess, and Masinissa, to spare her the
humility of captivity, sent her a bowl of poison, which she drank without
hesitation, and thus perished.
The portraits of Caligula and Drusilla, in an iron ring, made to turn from
one side to the other (Gorlæus):–
A representation of Victory, suspending a shield to a palm-tree
(Gorlæus):–
With regard to the engraved representations on rings, Clemens
Alexandrinus gives some advice to the Christians of the second century:
‘Let the engraving upon the stone be either a pigeon, or a fish, or a ship
running before the wind, or a musical lyre, which was the device used by
Polycrates; or a ship’s anchor, which Seleucus had cut upon his signet;
and if it represents a man fishing, the wearer will be put in mind of the
Apostle, and of the little children drawn up out of the water. For we must
not engrave on them images of idols, which we are forbidden even to look
at; nor a sword, nor a bow, being the followers of peace, nor drinking
goblets, being sober men.’ (See Chapter IV., ‘Rings in connexion with
ecclesiastical usages,’ _religious rings_.) The Rev. C. W. King remarks
that ‘the practice of engraving licentious subjects on rings was very
prevalent in Ancient Rome. Ateius Capito, a famous lawyer of the Republic,
highly censured the practice of wearing figures of deities on rings, on
account of the profanation to which they were exposed.’
The same distinguished writer mentions an antique gold ring now in the
Florentine Cabinet, set with a cameo, which evidently shows that it
belonged to some Roman sporting gentleman, who, as the poet says, ‘held
his wife a little higher than his horse,’ for it is set with a cameo-head
of a lady, of tolerable work in garnet, and on the shoulders of the ring
are intaglio busts of his two favourite steeds; also a garnet with their
names cut in the gold on each side–_Amor_ and _Ospis_. On the outside of
the shank is the legend _Pomphonica_, ‘success to thee, Pomphius,’ very
neatly engraved on the gold.
In the possession of Captain Spratt is a remarkably fine specimen of early
Greek work, a large ring of thin gold, set with an intaglio on very fine
red sard, oval, of most unusual size, representing a figure of Abundantia
beside an altar; the edge of the setting slightly bended; the stone held
in its position by thin points of gold. This most important gem is in its
original gold setting, and was purchased in June 1845 at Milo, where it
had been found the previous year, within a short distance of the theatre,
near the position in which the Venus of Milo had been discovered about
thirty years previously.
Such was the value attached by the Romans to the setting of gems in rings,
that Nonius, a senator, is said to have been proscribed by Antony, for the
sake of a precious opal, valued at 20,000_l._ of our money, which he would
not relinquish.
The taste for engraved gems, ‘grew,’ observes the Rev. C. W. King, ‘into
an ungovernable passion, and was pushed by its noble votaries to the last
degree of extravagance. Pliny seriously attributes to nothing else the
ultimate downfall of the Republic; for it was in a quarrel about a ring at
a certain auction that the feud originated between the famous demagogue
Drusus, and the chief senator Cæpio, which led to the breaking out of the
Social War, and to all its fatal consequences.’
In the Braybrooke Collection is a gold Roman finger-ring, with two hands
clasping a turquoise in token of concord: this device, a favourite one in
mediæval times, has thus an early origin. In the same collection is a
beautiful Romano-British gold ring, chased to imitate the scales of a
serpent, which it resembles in form: the eyelet-holes have been set with
some coloured gem, or paste, now lost.
Sometimes the decoration of a ring was not confined to a single gem.
Valerian speaks of the _annulus bigemmis_, and Gorlæus gives specimens;
one, the larger gem of which has cut upon it the figure of Mars, holding a
spear and helmet, but wearing only the chlamys; the smaller gem is incised
with a dove and myrtle-branch. Engraved are two examples of the emblematic
devices and inscriptions adopted for classic rings when used as memorial
gifts. The first is inscribed,–‘You have a love-pledge,’ the
second,–‘Proteros (to) Ugiæ,’ between conjoined hands.
The annexed illustration represents a jewelled ring of gold, considered to
be of Roman work. It is formed with nine little bosses, set with uncut
gems, emeralds, garnets, and a sapphire: one only, supposed to be a blue
spinel, is cut in pyramidal fashion.
A similar ring, of gold, found in Barton, Oxfordshire, may, probably, be
ascribed to the same period of the Roman rule in Britain. Weight 3 dwts.
16 grains. (‘Archæological Journal,’ vol. vi. p. 290.)
The Roman ring here given must have been inconvenient to the wearer from
its form, but may have been used as a signet. Rings were chiefly used by
the Romans for sealing letters and papers; also cellars, chests, casks,
&c.[9] They were affixed to certain signs, or symbols, used for tokens,
like what we call tallies, or tally-sticks, and given in contracts instead
of a bill, or bond, or for any sign. Rings were also given by those who
agreed to club for an entertainment, to the person commissioned to bespeak
it, from _symbola_, a reckoning; hence, _symbolam dare_, to pay his
reckoning. Rings were also given as votive offerings to the gods.
In 1841 a curious discovery was made at Lyons of the jewel-case of a
Roman lady containing a complete _trousseau_, including rings: one is of
gold, the hoop slightly ovular, and curving upward to a double leaf,
supporting three cup-shaped settings, one still retaining its stone, an
Arabian emerald. Another is also remarkable for its general form, and
still more so for its inscription, ‘Veneri et Tvtele Votvm,’ explained by
M. Comarmond as a dedication to Venus, and the local goddess Tutela, who
was believed to be the protector of the navigators of the Rhine; hence he
infers these jewels to have belonged to the wife of one of those rich
traders in the reign of Severus.
Boeckh’s Inscriptions (dating from the Peloponnesian War) enumerate in the
Treasury of the Parthenon, among other sacred jewels, the following rings:
an onyx set in a gold ring; ditto in a silver ring; a jasper set in a gold
ring; a jasper _seal_, enclosed in gold, seemingly a mounted scarabæus; a
signet in a gold ring, dedicated by Dexilla (the two last were evidently
cut in the gold itself); two gem signets set in one gold ring; two signets
in silver rings, one plated with gold; seven signets of _coloured glass_
plated with gold (_i.e._ their settings); eight silver rings, and one gold
piece, fine (probably a Daric), a gold ring of 1½ drs. offered by
Axiothea, wife of Socles; a gold ring with one gold piece, fine, _tied_ to
it, offered by Phryniscus, the Thessalian; a plain gold ring weighing ½
dr. offered by Pletho of Ægina (a widow’s mite).
Fabia Fabiana, a Roman lady, offered in honour of her granddaughter Avita,
amongst other costly gifts, two rings on her little finger with diamonds,
on the next finger a ring with many gems, emeralds and one pearl; on the
top joint of the same ring, a ring with an emerald. ‘The notice of the two
diamond-rings and the emerald-ring on the top joint of the ring-finger
are,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King, ‘very curious. The pious old lady had
evidently offered the entire set of jewels belonging to her deceased
grandchild for the repose of her soul.’
The annexed engraving represents a remarkably fine Roman bronze ring of a
curious shape. The parts nearest the collet are flat and resemble a
triangle from which the summit has been cut. The peculiarity of the ring
is an intaglio, here represented, cut out of the material itself,
representing a youthful head. The two triangular portions which start from
the table of the ring are filled with ornaments, also engraved hollow.
Upon it is the word VIVAS, or _Mayest thou live_; probably a gift of
affection, or votive offering.
In many of the Roman keys that have been discovered the ring was actually
worn on the finger. The shank disappears, and the wards are at right
angles to the ring, or in the direction of the length of the finger.
When a person, at the point of death, delivered his ring to anyone, it was
esteemed a mark of particular affection. The Romans not only took off the
rings from the fingers of the dead, but also from such as fell into a very
deep sleep or lethargy. Pliny observes: ‘Gravatis somno aut morientibus
religione quadam annuli detrahuntur.’ Some have conjectured that Spartian
alludes to this custom where, taking notice in the Life of the Emperor
Hadrian of the tokens of his approaching death, he says: ‘Signa mortis hæc
habuit: annulus in quo Imago ejus sculpta erat, sponte de digito lapsus
est.’ The ring, with his own image on it, fell of itself from his finger.
Morestellus thinks they took the rings from the fingers for fear the
Pollinctores, or they who prepared the body for the funeral, should take
them for themselves, because when the dead body was laid on the pile they
put the rings on the fingers again, and burnt them with the corpse.
The custom of burning the dead lasted to the time of Theodosius the Great,
as Gothofredus states. Macrobius, who lived under Theodosius the Younger,
says the custom of burning the dead had quite ceased in his time.
The Romans commonly wore the rings on the _digitus annularis_, the fourth
finger, and upon the left hand, but this custom was not always observed.
Clemens Alexandrinus remarks that men ought to wear the ring at the bottom
of the little finger, that they might have their hand more at liberty. For
Pliny’s account of this, and other ring customs, I refer the reader to the
Appendix at the end of this volume.
The clients of a Roman lawyer (remarks Fosbroke), usually presented him,
as a birthday present, with a ring, which was only used on that occasion.
Rings were given among the Romans on birthdays–generally the most solemn
festival among them, when they dressed and ornamented themselves, with as
much grandeur as they could afford, to receive their guests. Persius
alludes to the natal ring in his first Satire, in which a ring, richly set
with precious stones, figures as a part of the ceremonial.
The gladiators often wore heavy rings, a blow from which was sometimes
fatal. The ring of the first barbarian chief who entered and sacked Rome
was a curious cornelian inscribed ‘Alaricus rex Gothorum.’
In the famous Castellani Collection of Antiques, now in the British
Museum, are some splendid specimens of Roman rings: one with an uncut
crystal of diamond, a stone of great rarity, and highly prized; also a
minute votive ring set with a cameo, which probably adorned the finger of
a statuette; a curious double ring for two fingers. The early Christian
rings are very remarkable; one has a crossed ‘P’ in gold, formerly filled
with stones or enamel; another has an anchor for device, and one a ship,
emblematic of the Church.
Amongst the Greek rings in this superb collection is the most splendid
intaglio, _on gold_, ever discovered; the bust of some Berenice or
Arsinoe side by side with that of Serapis; the ring itself, plain and very
massive, is, as the Rev. C. W. King observes, ‘a truly royal signet.’
A ring in the Londesborough Collection bears the _Labarum_, the oldest
monogram of Christianity, derived from the vision in which Constantine
believed he saw the sacred emblem, and placed it on his standard with the
motto, ‘In hoc signo vinces.’ This ring came from the Roman sepulchre of
an early Christian.
An engraving of another ring in the same collection of massive silver is
inscribed SABBINA, most probably a love-gift.
The following represents a bronze ‘legionary’ ring, of oval form, with
flattened bezel, supposed to be Early Christian; obtained from Rome
(‘Arch. Journal,’ vol. xxvi. p. 146):–
Another, of the same description, is more elaborate:–
The collections of our English antiquaries contain numerous specimens of
Roman rings. At Uriconium several have been found of very varied
materials. Rings formed of bone, amber,[10] and glass were provided for
the poorer people, as was the case in ancient Egypt.
In the later period of the Roman empire a more ostentatious decoration of
rings, derived from Byzantium, became common. In Montfaucon we find
illustrations of this change from the classical simplicity of earlier
times.
A specimen of this character is given by Montfaucon:–
The annexed represents a gold ring, probably of the fifth or sixth
century, found at Constantinople (‘Arch. Journal,’ vol. xxvi. p. 146):–
In the Museum at Naples are two fine specimens of rings discovered at
Herculaneum and Pompeii, illustrations of which are here given from the
work of M. Louis Barré, ‘Herculaneum et Pompeii’ (Paris, 1839-40):–
A bronze ring is curious from having similar ornaments to those of the
horse-furniture discovered some years ago at Stanwick, on the estates of
the Duke of Northumberland in Yorkshire, and which are analogous in the
character of their design to those found in Roman places of sepulture in
Rhenish Germany.
Representation of a ‘trophy’ ring in the Museum of the Hermitage, St.
Petersburg; the figure of a lion on the convex; on the reverse a trophy:–
In the Waterton Collection are some valuable and curious specimens of
Greek and Roman art in ring-manufacture. These are composed of gold,
silver, bronze, iron, lead, earthenware, amber, vitreous paste, jet, white
cornelian, lapis-lazuli, chrysoprase, &c. Amongst these will be seen some
interesting Roman rings for children; one engraved with a rude figure of
Victory, found at Rietri, in 1856, diam. 9/16 in. In the same collection
are bronze ‘legionary’ rings–perhaps the number of a ‘centuria,’ some
corps employed about Rome, where all the rings of this character connected
with the collection have been found.
Among the ‘votive’ rings in this collection, is one in the form of a shoe,
inscribed FELIX, of bronze.
There are also specimens of rings with the key on the hoop, to which I
have alluded in the chapter on ‘Betrothal and Wedding Rings.’ One has a
fluted pipe; another has a key with two wards; in another the key is
riveted on the hoop.
The earthenware rings are of brown or red. The amber rings are of mottled
deep red, set with green paste. Those in vitreous paste are of pale blue,
transparent yellowish and transparent brown. A ‘jet’ ring belongs to the
late Roman period. A white cornelian ring has a smaller part of the hoop
cut down, so as to form an oval bezel, on which is engraved a standing
figure of Æsculapius. A gold ring, Roman, set with oval intaglio, on
cornelian, of a trophy consisting of a horse’s head bridled, and two
Gallic shields crossed, with the name of Q. Cornel Lupi, is the seal of
Quintus Cornelius Lupus, commemorating a victory over the Gauls: the
setting is modern. Another gold ring, with oval bezel, set with an
intaglio on yellow sard, has a youthful bust, full-faced; on one side a
spear, on the other side, in Greek letters, ‘Hermai.’ A gold ring with
nicoli onyx is inscribed ‘VIBAS LUXURI HOMO BONE.’
Some of the ‘Early Christian’ rings in the same collection are very
interesting. These are of silver, bronze, and lead. One of silver has an
octagonal bezel engraved with the Agnus Dei; another, of bronze, has a
square bezel inscribed ‘VIVAS IN DEO’; a bronze ring with oval bezel is
chased with a lamb, the shoulders and hoop chased so as to represent a
wreath of palms; another, of bronze, has a projecting octagonal bezel,
engraved with a dove and a star, the hoop formed so as to resemble a
wreath. A massive bronze ring has the bezel engraved with the figure of an
_orante_; on the hoop is also a _sigillum_ engraved with a cross. One
ring, of lead, has a flattened bezel rudely incised with a cross.
The following engraving represents the fore-finger, from a bronze statue,
of late Roman workmanship, on which a large ring is seen on the second
joint. A similar custom prevails in Germany.
The latest ‘surprise’ in regard to rings is that in connection with Dr.
Schliemann’s discovery of antiquities upon the presumed site of Troy. The
Doctor, in June 1873, after indefatigable exertions in excavating, came
upon a _trouvaille_ consisting of ancient relics of great rarity, value,
and importance, including finger-rings, of which, as I have mentioned,
the Homeric writings make no mention. These were found among a marvellous
assemblage of bronze, silver, and gold objects, which lay together in a
heap within a small space. This seemed to indicate that they had
originally been packed in a chest which had perished in a conflagration
(most of the articles having been exposed to the action of fire), a bronze
key being found near them. The period to which these objects belong is the
subject of much controversy, but their origin must date from a very remote
period.
Among our British, Saxon, and Mediæval ancestors, rings were in common
use. Pliny (‘Hist. Nat.’ lib. xxxiii. c. 6) mentions, that the Britons
wore the ring on the middle finger. In the account of the gold, silver,
and jewellery belonging to Edward the First is mentioned ‘a gold ring with
a sapphire, the workmanship of St. Dunstan.’ Aldhelm, ‘_De Laud. Virg._’,
describes a lady with bracelets, necklaces, and rings set with gems on her
fingers. Rings are frequently mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon annals. They
appear to have been worn then on the finger next to the little finger, and
on the right hand–for a Saxon bard calls that the golden finger–and we
find recorded that a right hand was once cut off on account of this
ornament.
It was not uncommon for Saxon gold rings to have the name of the owner for
a legend. Some of the rings of the Anglo-Saxon period which have been
discovered would not discredit the workmanship of a modern artificer. One
of the most interesting relics of enamelled art which is exhibited in the
medal room of the British Museum is the gold ring of Ethelwulf, King of
Wessex (A.D. 837-857), the father of Alfred the Great. It was found in the
parish of Laverstock, Hampshire, in a cart-rut, where it had become much
crushed and defaced. Its weight is 11 dwts. 14 grains. This ring was
presented to the British Museum by Lord Radnor, in 1829. Ethelwulf became
later in life a monk at Winchester, where he had been educated, and he
died there. No reasonable ground can be alleged for doubting the
authenticity of this ring.[11]
M. de Laborde, in his ‘Notice des Émaux, &c., du Louvre,’ considers the
character of the design and ornament to be Saxon; and there is every
reason to suppose it was the work of a Saxon artist.
In connexion with this valuable relic is the gold ring of Æthelswith,
Queen of Mercia, the property of the Rev. W. Greenwell, F.S.A., by whom it
was exhibited at a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries in January 1875.
On this occasion, A. W. Franks, Esq., Director of the Society, made the
following observations:–‘This ring is one of the most remarkable relics
of antiquity that has appeared in our rooms for many years past.
‘It was ploughed up in Yorkshire, between Aberford and Sherburn in the
West Riding, and it is said that the fortunate finder attached it to the
collar of his dog as an ornament. It is of gold, weighing 312 grains; the
outer surface is engraved, and partly filled up with niello. In the centre
of the bezel is the Agnus Dei, accompanied by the letters A.D. The second
letter has a stroke passing through it, so as to resemble the Saxon _th_.
If this stroke is not to be considered a simple contraction, it may be
intended for ἀρνὸς or ἀρνίον Φεοῦ. In the half circle on each side are
conventional animals or monsters; the whole is surrounded by a border of
dots, much worn in places. The most remarkable part of the ring, however,
is the inscription within, which is in letters large in proportion to the
surface they occupy, and which read EATHELSVITH REGNA. These letters,
excepting the two last, are in double outline. The engraver seems to have
miscalculated the space necessary, and has left out one letter towards the
end and given the NA in single lines; or, perhaps, the I and the N are
combined in a monogram.
‘The inscription is perfectly genuine, and we have, therefore, before us
the ring of Queen Æthelswith. The only person to whom, with any
probability, this inscription can be applied is Æthelswith, daughter of
Ethelwulf, and wife of Burgred or Burhred, King of Mercia. She was thus
sister to Alfred the Great. According to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, under
the year 853 (854), Burhred, King of the Mercians, prayed in that year
King Ethelwulf to aid him in reducing the North Welsh to obedience, which
he did; the Easter after which King Ethelwulf gave his daughter in
marriage to Burhred. She appears as witness to the charter of Burhred in
855 and 857, and 866 and 869 (Kemble’s Codex, cclxxvii., cclxxviii.,
cclxxx., ccxci., ccxii., ccxcix.). In 868 we have a charter giving to her
faithful servant Cuthwulf land in Lacinge. About 872-4 she is witness to a
charter of Æthelred, Duke of Mercia. In 888 (889) we learn from the
“Anglo-Saxon Chronicle” that she died:–“And Queen Æthelswith, who was
King Alfred’s sister, died on the way to Rome, and her body lies at
Pavia.”
‘She was daughter of Ethelwulf by Osburh, daughter of Oslac, the King’s
cup-bearer, and must have been many years older than her brother Alfred,
as he was only five years old at the time of her marriage.
‘With regard to the inscription within the ring, it may be noticed that it
exhibits scarcely any traces of wear, while the edges of the ring show
marks of having been long worn. The engraving (which illustrates this
explanation in the “Proceedings of the Society”) moreover, scarcely looks
like the work of a goldsmith. I would, therefore, suggest that the Queen
had probably offered this ring at some shrine, and the priests connected
with the shrine had engraved her name within the ring, to record the royal
giver. It could scarcely have been deposited in her tomb, as she is
recorded to have been buried at Pavia.’
In the rings of King Ethelwulf and his daughter, certain
symmetrically-placed portions of the design are not filled with niello.
These may (observes Mr. Franks) have been enriched with some coloured
mastic now perished. It has been habitual to describe the inlaying of
Ethelwulf’s ring as blue enamel, which is certainly an error. Enamel was
very seldom employed by the Anglo-Saxon jeweller, and enamel and niello
could with difficulty be applied to the same object, on account of the
different heat at which these two substances melt.
An illustration of the remarkable ring of the Queen of Mercia is displayed
on the cover of this work.
Rings were given in Anglo-Saxon times to propitiate royal favours. Thus,
towards the end of the tenth century, Beorhtric, a wealthy noble in Kent,
left in his will a ring worth thirty mancuses of gold that the queen might
be his advocate that the will should stand. In the Braybrooke Collection
is a plain silver ring, inscribed on the top of the exterior of the hoop,
with the Anglo-Saxon word ‘Dolȝbot,’ the meaning of which is, compensation
made for giving a man a wound, either by a stab or blow. This ring is
ornamented by a simple wavy line, and dots, as if to represent a branch,
and was found in Essex. From its size, probably a woman’s ring–perhaps
for injury, or the death of her husband.
There are various nielloed rings of the Saxon period; notably a gold ring
with an inscription, and partly in runes, meaning ‘Alhreds owns me, Eanred
engraved (or wrought) me,’ now in the British Museum, which also has a
gold ring with two facets, found in the river Nene, near Peterborough,
engraved in the Archæological Institute Proceedings for 1856.
Plain wire rings were used by the South Saxons; specimens have been
obtained in Anglo-Saxon grave-mounds in England, and others, identical in
form, in the old Saxon cemeteries in Germany. Mr. Fairholt says: ‘In the
museum at Augsburg are several, which were found in cutting for the
railway near that city. One of the plain wire rings’ (the first of our
illustrations) ‘was exhumed from a tumulus on Chartham Downs, a few miles
from Canterbury, in 1773, by the Rev. Bryan Faussett, who says: “The bones
were those of a very young person. Upon the neck was a cross of silver, a
few coloured earthen beads, and two silver rings with sliding knots.” The
second illustration–a wire ring, twisted so as to resemble a seal
ring–was discovered in a Saxon cemetery on Kingston Downs, Canterbury.’
The simplest form of finger-ring worn by our ancestors, consisted of a
band of metal, merely twisted round to embrace the finger, and open at
either end. One of these rings found upon the finger-bone of an early
Saxon, in excavating at Harnham Hill, near Salisbury, was found on the
middle finger of the right hand of a person of advanced age. Sometimes
several rings were found on one hand. Among the bones of the fingers of
the left hand of an adult skeleton was found a silver ring of solid form,
another of spiral form, and a plain gold ring. Mr. Akerman, who
superintended these researches, says: ‘Similar rings have been found at
Little Wilbraham, at Linton Heath, at Fairford, and other localities.
They are, for the most part, of a uniform construction, being so contrived
that they could be expanded or contracted, and adapted to the size of the
finger of the wearer.’
In the Waterton Collection is a very curious South Saxon ring, described
as ‘an elongated oval with a circular centre; within the circle is the
conventional figure of a dragon, surrounded by four convoluted ornaments,
reminding one of the prevailing enrichments so lavishly bestowed on old
Runic ornaments, at home and abroad. Four quaintly-formed heads of dragons
occupy the triangular spaces above and below this centre. The ground
between the ornaments has been cut down, probably for the insertion of
niello or enamel colour.’ It was found in the Thames at Chelsea in 1856.
At a meeting of the Royal Archæological Institute in June 1873 Mr. J. J.
Rogers exhibited some Anglo-Saxon bronze rings which were found in a cave,
in the parish of St. Keverne, Cornwall.
The Duke of Northumberland possesses a beautiful ring of pale-coloured
gold (weight 157 grains), set with a ruby-coloured gem, surrounded with
filagree work, the hoop beaded with small circles, punched, as on work of
the Saxon age. It was discovered, about 1812, by a boy who was ploughing,
near Watershaugh, Northumberland, and found the ring fixed on the point of
his ploughshare.
In the collection of R. H. Soden Smith, Esq., F.S.A., is a curious
Anglo-Saxon ring, found about ten feet below the surface of the ground, in
making Garrick Street, Covent Garden. It is of gold, the hoop nearly half
an inch wide, with a broad oval bezel, expanding to 1-3/16 inches; the
gold pale, alloyed with silver. The whole is overlaid with funiform wire
ornaments and granulated work; on the bezel are four curves of beaded
filagree radiating from the centre ornament, and having smaller bosses of
similar work between.[12]
Spiral elastic band rings of Anglo-Saxon work have been found in
considerable numbers in excavations. Douglas, in his ‘Nenia Britannica,’
describes many specimens under this term, found by him in the graves of
Anglo-Saxon tribes.
In the earlier history of Ireland we find instances of a wonderful
development of artistic skill in goldsmith work. The Royal Irish Academy
possesses some beautiful specimens of rings. The Londesborough Collection
includes two remarkable rings which were found with other gold ornaments
near the remarkable tumulus, known as ‘New Grange,’ a few miles from
Drogheda. They were accidentally discovered in 1842 by a labouring man,
within a few yards to the entrance of the tumulus, at the depth of two
feet from the surface of the ground, and without any covering or
protection from the earth about them. Another labouring man, hearing of
this discovery, carefully searched the spot whence they were taken, and
found a denarius of Geta. The stone set in both rings is a cut agate.
Aildergoidhe, son of Muinheamhoin, monarch of Ireland, who reigned 3070
A.M., is traditionally said to have been the first prince who introduced
the wearing of gold rings into Ireland, which he bestowed on persons of
merit who excelled in knowledge of the arts and sciences.
The engraving (from the ‘Archæological Journal,’ June 1848), represents a
gold ring twisted, or plaited, of early Irish work, in the fine collection
of antiquities of Edwin Hoare, Esq., of Cork.
The Alhstan ring, engraved and described in the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. iv. p.
47), is in the Waterton Collection. Some observations on this very
remarkable ring are given by that learned antiquary, the Rev. Mr. Pegge.
It was found by a labourer on the surface of the ground at Llysfaen in
Caernarvonshire. It is of good workmanship, and weighs about an ounce. It
bears the inscription of Alhstan, which was a common Saxon name. Mr. Pegge
appropriates the ring to the Bishop of Sherborne of that name, because
the dragon of Wessex, apparent in the first lozenge, was not only the
device on the royal standard of Wessex, but the Bishop of Sherborne had
often conducted armies under it, having been much engaged in affairs of
war. The prelate died in 867, in the beginning of the reign of Ethelred I.
In the Journal of the British Archæological Association (vol. i.) is a cut
of an Anglo-Saxon gold-ring, discovered at Bosington, near Stockbridge; it
is of considerable thickness, ornamented with rich chain-work, and has in
its centre a male head, round which is inscribed ‘NOMEN EHLLA FID IN
XPO,’–my name is Ella; my faith is in Christ. It is now in the Ashmolean
Museum at Oxford.
In 1840 at Cuerdale, near Preston, some curious discoveries of coins and
treasure were made, considered to have been deposited about the year 910,
and the ornaments such as were worn about the time of Alfred, or somewhat
earlier. These included several rings, representations of which are given
in the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iv. p. 127). One is merely a piece of
metal hammered flat, thinner and narrower at the ends, and formed into a
circle; the ends lapping over, but without any fastening. It is entirely
without ornament. In some specimens the metal is hammered and bent into
the form of a ring, in the same manner as the flat one. Two rings are
formed exactly like some armlets, found at the same time; the punch has
had a triangular point, and triangles conjoined at their bases having been
struck side by side, parallel rows of sunk lozenges have been produced.
Another ring has been hammered into a small four-sided bar, then twisted,
and ultimately formed into a ring, the ends of which meet, but have not
been united. In another ring two wires have been hammered into a roundish
form, tapering towards the ends, which have been tied together. Each wire
has been ornamented by transverse blows of a blunt chisel, and has the
appearance of being also twisted; these two have been twined together to
form one ring.
In a communication from Mr. Worsaae, of Copenhagen, to the ‘Archæological
Journal,’ he observes that the triangular pattern with three or four
points on the Cuerdale rings differs totally from the designs on Celtic,
Roman, or Saxon remains, and which never seems to occur on any objects
found in the interior or southern parts of Europe. ‘To the instances which
Mr. Hawkins has already cited of similar patterns on silver objects found
in Denmark and in Finland, I can only add that I have seen precisely
similar objects with the same pattern in Ireland, Prussia, and Sweden, and
that in the interior of Russia, in _tumuli_ in the neighbourhood of
Moscow, the same patterns have been found on rings. In nearly every
instance these ornaments have been found along with oriental or Cufic
coins, as in the case at Cuerdale.’ Mr. Worsaae is of opinion that they
are of eastern origin, and were brought to the north in the same way as
the oriental coins.
In the collection of antiquities of the Royal Irish Academy there are two
curious specimens of rings; one, like a ferule, fluted both externally and
internally, so as to resemble seven plain rings, attached to one another;
and their weight is 9 dwts.
The other is a five-sided bar of gold, flat on the inside near the finger,
and angular externally; weight 1 oz. 12 dwts. 6 grs. This might be
denominated a torque ring.
The following illustration represents a spiral silver ring, found at
Largo, weighing 120 grs. It is shaped, apparently, by the hammer. The
edges are serrated. A spiral ring found with Saxon remains in Kent,
engraved by Douglas in his ‘Nenia,’ and another found in the Isle of
Wight, represented in the ‘Winchester’ volume of the Archæological
Association, may be compared with the present example.
Dr. Mantell has a massive gold ring, supposed to have been worn on the
finger, formed of two square bars rudely twisted together, and gradually
diminishing in size towards the extremities, where they are united
together. It was ploughed up at Bormer, in Sussex, and was presented to
Dr. Mantell by the Earl of Chichester. It is represented in Horsfield’s
‘History of Lewes,’ plate iv. Similar rings of this description, but
differing in the fashion of the twist, have been noticed as found in
Britain. The resemblance between these ornaments and the gold ‘ring-money’
of the interior of Africa is exceedingly curious.
The annexed engraving (from the ‘Archæological Journal,’ vol. iii. p. 269)
represents a gold ring, belonging to Sir Noel Paton, F.S.A., Scotland,
reported to have been found on the field of Flodden: weight 8 dwts. 17
grs. Other rings of a similar form have been discovered, and ‘they appear
to offer some analogy with the torc of the Celtic age.’
The annexed illustration represents a remarkably fine ring engraved in
Chifflet’s ‘Anastasis Childerici’ (1655), on the same page as that of the
Childeric ring (described in the chapter on ‘Memorial and Mortuary
Rings’), for purposes of comparison, in carrying out his original theory,
that the supposed bees of Childeric were, by gradual transition, converted
into the figure known as the _fleur de lys_ of a later monarchy, as he
endeavours to illustrate by numerous diagrams, but he omits to say where
this ring marked ‘sapphirus’ was originally found. It is a mere
supposition that the figure represents St. Louis, but in Montfaucon’s
‘Monuments de la Monarchie Française’ (Paris, 1729), in a long
disquisition on the origin, &c., of the _fleur de lys_, on referring to
plate xxiii. tom. ii. p. 158, where St. Louis ‘instruit ses enfans,’ his
shield is noticed as bearing for the _first time three fleurs de lys_.
Sandford, in his ‘Genealogical History’ (pp. 270, 289), says that Henry
the Fifth, being Prince of Wales, ‘did bear azure, 3 _flowers de lys or_,
for the Kingdom of France, reducing them from _semée_ to the number 3, as
did Charles VI., the present King.’
Among the old Northmen rings were generally worn by rich people and
persons of rank. Such rings are frequently found in barrows of pagan date,
and from their nature and quality it is easy to determine that they were
generally of very simple workmanship; the reason of which, undoubtedly,
was that they were used instead of money in commercial transactions, and
had, therefore, not unfrequently to be cut asunder. Still, rings of more
artistic workmanship are sometimes found in pagan graves.
The preceding cuts are taken from examples in the Royal Museum,
Copenhagen, of the curious twisted spiral rings alluded to, found in the
graves of the old Northmen.
Charlemagne sealed all his acts with his ring. That of his son Louis le
Débonnaire had for inscription XPE. PROTÈGE HELLDOVICUNI. IMPERATOREM.
From the reign of Hugh Capet each King had his particular seal-ring. St.
Louis had for device a ring interlaced with a garland of lilies and
daisies, in allusion to his name and that of his queen.
Two curious rings of early date are here represented: one a seal-ring of
the Frankish period, found near Allonnes (Sarthe) bearing the monogram
Lanoberga; the other, of gold, Merovingian, found in Vitry-le-Français,
supposed to be a conjugal ring, with inscription.
The annexed illustration represents a gold ring, in the Bibliothèque
Nationale at Paris, with the initials S. R., and supposed by the Abbé
Cochet (‘La Normandie Souterraine’) to mean ‘Sigebertus Rex,’ but which
of the three Sigeberts, Kings of Austrasia (the name given, under the
Merovingians, to the eastern possessions of the Franks), cannot be
conjectured.
To a similar period may, perhaps, be ascribed the ring found near Blois,
represented in the following engraving:–
The annexed cuts represent a gold signet-ring, inscribed ‘Heva,’ and a
seal-ring, both of the Merovingian period.
A remarkable ring of the Merovingian period, now in the collection of R.
H. Soden Smith, Esq., F.S.A., was exhibited at the Archæological Institute
in 1874. It is a massive gold ring, with oval bezel 1¼ inches long, by 1
inch in width, set with an antique polished chalcedony of two layers, the
edges bevelled. The setting is rather more than a quarter of an inch deep,
and is formed of a band of gold, supported by perpendicular ridges, made
by folding another thick band, or ribbon, of gold; a double row of pellets
of gold, and others on the shoulder of the hoop, add to the rich effect of
the whole. The hoop is a somewhat rude angular band, with a zigzag
punched ornament round it. This ring was found in the neighbourhood of
Bristol.
It was in the Middle Ages, however, after a period of comparative
mediocrity, that the greatest degree of perfection in goldsmiths’ work,
and especially in rings, began to display itself. In the reign of Edward
III. (1363), so great was the extravagance in dress and decoration that an
Act was passed to repress the evil. All persons under the rank of
Knighthood, or of less property than two hundred pounds in land and
tenements, were forbidden to wear rings, and other articles of jewellery.
In the ‘Vision of Pierce Ploughman,’ written, it is supposed, about this
date, the poet speaks of a richly-adorned lady, whose fingers were all
embellished with rings of gold, set with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.
In a parchment roll of Prayers to the Virgin in the Library of Jesus
College, Oxford, which formerly belonged to Margaret of Anjou, there is a
portrait of that queen who is represented wearing two rings on each finger
except the least, placed on the middle as well as the third joint of the
fingers–a fashion probably introduced by her, and shown in the curious
portrait of this queen on the tapestry at Coventry.
In later ages we find the same practice of ornamenting the fingers with
several rings. In the description of a Scottish woman of the middle of the
sixteenth century, attributed to Dunbar, we find:–
On ilkune fyngar scho weirit ringis tuo
Scho was als proud an ony papingo.
Queen Elizabeth had an immoderate love for jewellery; and the description
given of her dresses covered with gems of the greatest rarity and beauty
reads like a romance. For finger-rings she had a remarkable fondness. Paul
Hentzner, in his ‘Journey into England,’ 1598, relates that a Bohemian
baron having letters to present to her at the palace of Greenwich, the
queen, after pulling off her glove, ‘gave him her right hand to kiss,
sparkling with rings and jewels–a mark of particular favour.’
In Bromsgrove Church, Staffordshire, are the fine monumental effigies of
Sir Humphrey Stafford and his lady (1450)–remarkable alike for the rich
armour of the knight and the courtly costume of the lady. She wears a
profusion of rings; every finger, except the little finger of the right
hand, being furnished with one. They exhibit great variety of design. The
two hands are lifted in prayer.
‘In the Duke of Newcastle’s comedy,’ observes Mr. Fairholt, ‘the “Country
Captain” (1649), a lady of title is told that when she resides in the
country a great show of finger rings will not be necessary: “Show your
white hand, with but one diamond, when you carve, and be not ashamed to
wear your own ringe with the old posie.” That many rings were worn by
persons of both sexes is clear from another passage in the same play,
where a fop is described, ‘who makes his fingers like jewellers’ cards to
set rings upon.’
The same custom prevailed in France. Mercier, in his ‘Tableau de France,’
mentions that at the close of the eighteenth century enormous rings were
worn. The hand of a woman presented a collection of rings, ‘et si ces
bagues étaient des antiques, elles offriraient un échantillon d’un cabinet
des pierres gravées.’ He adds that ‘the nuptial ring is now unnoticed on
the fingers of women; wide and profane rings altogether conceal this
warrant of their faith.’
So important a business was the making of rings that it was separated from
the ordinary work of the goldsmith, and became a distinct trade.
In the sixteenth century, among the various articles carried by the pedlar
rings were reckoned. In Heywood’s ‘Four PP (A Newe and a very mery
Enterlude of a Palmer, a Pardoner, a Potycary, and a Pedler),’ the
Potycary addresses the Pedler:–
What the devyll hast thou there at thy backe?–
to which he replies:–
What dost thou not knowe that every pedler
In all kinde of trifles must be a medler?
Gloves, pinnes, combes, glasses unspotty’d,
Pomanders, hookes, and lases knottyed;
Broches, _rynges_, and all maner of bedes.
The instances in which brooches and rings are mentioned together are
numerous. In Scott’s edition of Sir Tristrem (pages 23, 28) we find:–
Who gaf broche and beighe (ring)?
Who but Douk Morgan?
A loud thai sett that sleigh
With all his winning yare
With broche and riche beighe.
In the Chester Mystery Plays the shepherds do not know what to present to
the Babe of Bethlehem, and Secundus Pastor says:–
Goe we nere anon, with such as we have broughte,
Ringe, broche, ner precious stoune,
Let us see yf we have oughte to proffer.
And the ‘first boye’ adds:–
Nowe Lorde for to geve thee have I no thinge,
Neither goulde, silver, broche, ner ringe.
In the old ballad of Redisdale and Wise William the lady is enticed with
rich presents:–
Come down, come down, my lady fair,
A sight of you i’ll see,
And bonny jewels, broaches, rings,
I will give unto thee.
to which she replies:–
If you have bonny broaches, rings,
Oh, mine are bonny tee,
Go from my yettes, now, Reedisdale,
For me ye shall not see.
Of the later period of ring decoration there are some splendid specimens
in various collections. Mr. Fairholt, in his ‘Facts about Finger-rings,’
has given illustrations and descriptions of two rings of this character in
the Londesborough Collection. One is decorated with floral ornament,
engraved and filled with green and red enamel colours. The effect on the
gold is extremely pleasing, having a certain quaint sumptuousness
peculiarly its own. The other specimen, a signet-ring, bears a ‘merchants’
mark’ (see notice of ‘Merchants’ marks’ at the end of this chapter) upon
its face.
In the same collection is a ring, doubtless a _gage d’amour_, the hoop of
which is richly decorated with quaint floriated ornaments, cut upon its
surface, and filled in with the black composition termed _niello_, once
extensively used by goldsmiths in enriching their works. This beautiful
ring is inscribed within the hoop, ‘=Mon Cor Plesor=,’–‘my heart’s
delight.’
There are two very beautiful examples of sixteenth century rings, one in
the Londesborough Collection, which has a ruby in a very tall setting,
enriched by enamel. The sides of the hoop are highly decorated with
flowers and scroll ornament, also richly enamelled. The other ring is in
the Waterton Collection, gold, enamelled, set with a large turquoise in
the centre, and surrounded by six raised garnets. This ring is said to
have subsequently belonged to Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, whose
cipher is upon it.
Rings of Italian workmanship of a late period are remarkably beautiful.
Venice particularly excelled in this art. In the Londesborough Collection
is a fine specimen. The four claws of the other ring in open-work, support
the setting of a sharply-pointed pyramidal diamond, such as was then
coveted for writing on glass. The shank bears a fanciful resemblance to a
serpent swallowing a bird, of which only the claws connecting the face
remain on view.
‘It was,’ remarks Mr. Fairholt, ‘with a similar ring Raleigh wrote the
words on a window-pane: “Fain would I rise, but that I fear to fall,” to
which Queen Elizabeth added: “If thy heart fail thee, do not rise at
all”–an implied encouragement which led him on to fortune.’[13]
The annexed engraving represents a gold symbolical ring of the sixteenth
century, enamelled, of various colours.
Two rings are described by Mr. Fairholt of a peculiar construction. One,
of Venice work, is set with three stones in raised bezels; to their bases
are affixed, by a swivel, gold pendant ornaments, each set with a garnet.
As the hand moves, these pendants fall about the finger, the stones
glittering in the movement. This fashion was evidently borrowed from the
East, where people delight in pendant ornaments, and even affix them to
articles of utility.
The other ring, of silver, is of East Indian workmanship, discovered in
the ruins of one of the most ancient temples: to its centre are affixed
bunches of pear-shaped, hollow drops of silver, which jingle with a soft,
low note as the hand moves.[14]
The Indians prefer rings with large floriated faces spreading over three
fingers like a shield. When made for the wealthy, in massive gold, the
flower leaves are of cut jewels, but the humbler classes are content with
them in cast silver. Representations are here given of these rings.
In Southern Europe, where jewellery is deemed almost an essential of life
and the poorest will wear it in profusion, though only made of copper, the
rings are curious and elaborate. A Spanish ring, of the early part of the
last century, has a heart, winged and crowned, in its centre: the heart is
transfixed by an arrow, but surrounded by flowers. It may possibly be a
religious emblem. Another Spanish ring, of more modern manufacture, has a
very light and elegant design. The flowers are formed of rubies and
diamonds, and the effect is extremely pleasing. Such work may have
originated the ‘giardinetti’ rings, specimens of which are seen in the
South Kensington Museum. Two are there described as English work of the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. They appear to have been used as
‘guards,’ or ‘keepers,’ to the wedding-ring, and are of pleasing floriated
design, and of very delicate execution.
Annexed are representations of some remarkably fine rings (French) dating
from the close of the fourteenth century or the commencement of the
fifteenth.
A handsome ring, of silver gilt, representing St. George and the Dragon,
belongs to the end of the fifteenth century. There is a border of roses
and fleurs-de-lys around the saint.
The following examples of French art of the sixteenth century are in the
Museum of the Louvre:–
The annexed illustration represents an escutcheon ring (from Viollet le
Duc) of the Middle Ages, and is thus described by M. Chabouillet in his
‘Catalogue Général.’ The Cabinet of Medals at Paris possesses a ring
dating from the commencement of the fifteenth century, if one may judge
from the form of the letters, and that of the helmet engraved on the seal.
The ring is of massive gold; the arms, engraved hollow on the seal,
represent a shield, charged with a dragon, carrying (perhaps) some prey in
his jaws. On the two sides of the intaglio are two names–MARIN, PIXIAN.
On the sides of the ring are two inscriptions in relief, one only of which
is legible, and this is taken from St. Luke–‘Jesus autem transiens per
medium illorum ibat.’
The accompanying are from Chabouillet’s ‘Orfévrerie de la Rénaissance,’ in
the Fould Collection (dispersed by auction in 1860).
These engravings are from Labarte’s ‘Orfévrerie du XV. et XVI. Siècles’:–
The following represent rings in the Musée Sauvageot, of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries; one is elaborately wrought of chiselled iron, of
French manufacture–date, 16th century.
The annexed are two fine specimens of comparatively modern date; one
ending in volutes near the bezel, the other enamelled white, red, green,
and blue–a turquoise, with diamonds and rubies in settings.
Mr. Fairholt mentions two characteristic specimens of modern French
ring-work; one a signet ring, the face engraved with a coat of arms. At
the sides two _Cupidons_ repose amidst scroll-work partaking of the taste
of the _Rénaissance_. The same peculiarity influences the design of the
second ring; here a central arch of five stones, in separate settings, are
held by the heads and outstretched wings of _Chimæras_, whose breasts are
also jewelled. Both are excellent designs.
In the Londesborough Collection is a triplicate of Moorish rings, which
will enable us to understand their peculiarities. One has a large circular
face composed of a cluster of small bosses, set with five circular
turquoises and four rubies; the centre being a turquoise, with a ruby and
turquoise alternating round it. This ring is of silver. Another, of the
same material, is set with an octangular bloodstone, with a circular
turquoise on each side. There is, also, a silver signet ring, bearing the
name of its original owner, engraved on a cornelian.
In the South Kensington Museum is a massive and heavy brass ring, with
octagonal bezel armed with five projecting points, used as a weapon by
peasants in Upper Bavaria from about the year 1700 to the present time.
The Indians prefer rings with large floriated faces, spreading over three
fingers like a shield. When made for the wealthy in massive gold, the
flower leaves are of cut jewels, but the humbler classes, who equally love
display, are content with them in cast silver. Such a ring is in the
British Museum, where there are also two specimens of rings beside it such
as are worn by the humbler classes.
A curious gold ring, bearing the impress a ‘merchant’s mark,’ was
exhibited by Mr. Sully at a meeting of the Archæological Institute of
November 1851. It was found at St. Anne’s Well, near Nottingham, and the
date is about the time of Henry VI. From a representation in the ‘Journal’
the impress appears to be composed of the orb of sovereignty, surmounted
by a cross, having two transverse bars, like a patriarchal cross. The
extremities of the lower limbs terminate with the Arabic numerals, 2–0,
the cipher being transversed by a diagonal stroke, as frequently written
in early times. On one side of the hoop is seen the Virgin and Child, on
the other the Crucifix; these were originally enamelled. Within is
inscribed–=Mon Cur avez=. Weight 7 dwts. 21 grs.
A brass signet-ring found in the Cathedral Close at Hereford, bears for
impress a kind of merchant’s mark, a cross, with the lower extremity
barbed like an arrow, between the initials G. M.–now in the possession of
the Dean of Hereford.
In the Braybrooke Collection is a bronze signet-ring with a merchant’s
mark within a cable border: the mark may be intended to represent a buoy,
which would accord well with the border, supposing it to be a trader’s
cipher; the hoop is likewise twisted to imitate the strands of a rope.
This ring was found in the Thames.
In the same collection is a massive gold thumb-ring engraved as a signet,
with a merchant’s mark within a rude shield. The shoulders of the hoop are
chased with Marguerite flowers, which were commonly adopted in the reign
of Henry VI., in honour of the queen-mother, and may indicate the date of
the ring. It was found at Littlebury, Essex, in 1848. In the same
collection is a large gold thumb-ring, with a round hoop and signet, on
which is engraved the letter E of Longobardic form, within
delicately-cusped tracery, surmounted by a coronet. The hoop is inscribed
externally with the words _in. on. is. al._ (in one is all): probably
intended for a charm, of which so many forms are found upon rings of the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.
In the Londesborough Collection is the fine specimen (to which I have
alluded in a previous page) of a signet-ring bearing a ‘merchant’s mark.’
‘The marks,’ observes Mr. Fairholt, ‘varied with every owner, and was as
peculiar to himself as the modern autograph; they were a combination of
initials, or letter-like devices, frequently surmounted by a cross, or a
conventional sign, believed to represent the sails of a ship. The marks
were placed upon the bales of merchandise, and were constantly used where
the coat armour, or badge of a nobleman or gentleman entitled to bear arms
would be placed. The authority vested in such merchants’ rings is
curiously illustrated in one of the historical plays on the life and reign
of Queen Elizabeth, written by Thomas Heywood, and to which he gave the
quaint title: “If you know not me, you know nobody.” Sir Thomas Gresham,
the great London merchant, is one of the principal characters, and in a
scene where he is absent from home, and in sudden need of cash, he
exclaims: “Here, John, take this seal-ring, bid Timothy send me presently
a hundred pound.” John takes the ring to the trusty Timothy, saying:
“Here’s his seal-ring; I hope a sufficient warrant.” To which Timothy
replies: “Upon so good security, John, I’ll fit me to deliver it.” Another
merchant in the same play is made to obtain his wants by similar means:–
——receive thou my seal-ring:
Bear it to my factor; bid him by that token
Sort thee out forty pounds’ worth of such wares
As thou shalt think most beneficial.
The custom must have been common to be thus used in dramatic scenes of
real life. These plays were produced in 1606.’[15]
‘Merchants’ marks, which appear to have been imitated from the Flemings
during the reign of Edward the Third, and became very common during the
fifteenth and early part of the sixteenth century, both on seals and
signet-rings, offer a somewhat curious field for research, and are often
very useful in identifying the persons by whom domestic and parts of
ecclesiastical edifices on which they occur were built. They were more
generally used in the great seaports of England than in the south–a fact
which is readily accounted for by the frequent intercourse between those
ports and Flanders. It may be observed also that such marks belonged
chiefly to wool-factors, or merchants of the staple.’–_Archæological
Journal_ for March 1848.
In the collections of our English antiquaries are numerous specimens of
_thumb-rings_, and in the chapter on ‘Ecclesiastical Usages in Connection
with Rings’ I have mentioned several of particular interest, notably an
effigy with a signet-ring of remarkable size represented as worn over both
the thumbs. Dr. Bruce found some thumb-rings along the line of the Roman
wall.
The custom of wearing thumb-rings is alluded to by Chaucer, in the
‘Squire’s Tale,’ where it is said of the rider of the brazen horse who
advanced into the hall, Cambuscan, that ‘upon his thumb he had of gold a
ring.’ Brome, in the ‘Antipodes,’ 1638, and also in the ‘Northern Lass:’
‘A good man in the city wears nothing rich about him but the gout, or a
thumb-ring.’
In the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iii. page 268) is a representation of
a curious thumb-ring, which supplies a good example of the signet
thumb-ring of the fifteenth century. It is of silver, alloyed, or plated
with baser metal and strongly gilt. The hoop is grooved spirally, and the
initial H is engraved upon it; weight 17 dwts. 18 grs. It was found in
1846, in dredging in the bed of the river Severn, at a place called
Saxon’s or Saxton’s Lode.
Signet rings of this kind were worn by rich citizens, or persons of
substance not entitled to bear arms. Falstaff bragged that in his earlier
years he had been so slender in figure that he could readily have crept
through an ‘alderman’s thumb-ring,’ and a ring thus worn–probably, as
more conspicuous–appears to have been considered as appropriate to the
customary attire of a civic dignitary at a much later period. A character
in the Lord Mayor’s show in 1664 is described as ‘habited like a grave
citizen–gold girdle and gloves hung thereon, rings on his fingers, and a
seal-ring on his thumb.’
In Labartes ‘Hand-book of the Fine Arts in the Middle Ages’ is a
representation of a fine thumb-ring, of Hindoo workmanship, cut out of a
single piece of jade, decorated with gold filagree, and incrusted with
rubies.
A magical thumb-ring of gilt, bearing the figure of a toad, and of German
workmanship of the fourteenth century is in the Londesborough Collection,
and is described in the chapter on ‘Ring Superstitions.’ The annexed
representation is from a ring in the same collection.
The figure of a morse ivory thumb-ring of an Earl of Shrewsbury, belonging
to Dr. Iliff, is given in the ‘Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries’
(December, 1859), in which it is fully described. On this is engraved
various coats of arms, surrounded by the Garter, and ensigned with an
earl’s coronet. A list of the quarterings is also given.[16]
In the Braybrooke Collection is a massive latten thumb-ring, with a signet
engraved with I.H.S. and three tears below; the words, ‘in Deo Salus’ are
inside the hoop. They are from the Penitential Psalms, and in union with
the tears. Date from the thirteenth century.
In a portrait of Lady Anne Clifford, the celebrated Countess of Pembroke,
she wears a ring upon the thumb of her right hand.
To the practice of English ladies wearing, formerly, the wedding-ring on
the thumb I have alluded in the chapter on ‘Betrothal and Wedding-rings.’
Dr. Thomas Chalmers wore the ring of his great-great-great-grandfather,
John Alexander, on his thumb.
‘Oriental rings,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King, ‘exactly like the ancient
in shape, and made of cornelian, chalcedony, and agate, with legends in
Arabic on the face, for the use of signets, are by no means uncommon in
collections. They are of large size, being designed to be worn on the
_thumb_ of the right hand, in order to be used in drawing the bow-string,
which the Orientals pull with the bent thumb, catching it against the
shank of the ring, and not with the two first fingers, as is the practice
of English archers.’
A brass seal-ring large enough for a man’s thumb was found in Hampshire
some years ago, and is noticed in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ vol. liv.

CHAPTER II. RING SUPERSTITIONS.
A mysterious significance has been associated with rings from the earliest
periods, among various nations. They were supposed to protect from evil
fascinations of every kind, against the ‘evil eye,’ the influence of
demons, and dangers of every possible character; though it was not simply
in the rings themselves that the supposed virtues existed, but in the
materials of which they were composed, in some particular precious stone
that was set in them, as charms or talismans, in some device or
inscription on the stone, or some magical letters engraven on the
circumference of the ring.
The ring worn by the high-priest of the Jews was of inestimable value,
chiefly, according to a tradition, of its celestial virtues; and the ring
of Solomon, as Hebrew legends state, possessed powers which enabled him to
baffle the most subtle of his enemies.[17] Some curious particulars
respecting this ring will be found in Josephus (lib. viii. ch. 2), which,
however, are considered as interpolations. According to this he witnessed
the healing of demoniacs by one Eleazar, a Jew, in the presence of the
Emperor Vespasian, by the application of a medicated ring to the nostrils
of the patient. The Jew recited several verses connected with the name of
Solomon, and the devils came forth through the noses of the patients. ‘It
was to this great prince the honour of this discovery is attributed, as
well as other magical operations, and without him it would be improbable
to obtain success.’[18] The signet-ring of Solomon had the mystic word
_schemhamphorasch_ engraved upon it, and procured for him the wonderful
_shamir_, which enabled him to build the temple. Every day at noon it
transported him into the firmament, where he heard the secrets of the
universe. This continued until he was persuaded by the devil to grant him
his liberty, and to take the ring from his finger; the demon then assumed
his shape as King of Israel, and reigned three years, while Solomon became
a wanderer in foreign lands.
According to an Arabian tradition, King Solomon, on going to the bath,
left his ring behind him, which was stolen by a Jewess, and thrown by her
into the sea. Deprived of his miraculous amulet, which prevented him from
exercising the judicial wisdom for which he was celebrated, Solomon
abstained for forty days from administering justice, when he at length
found the ring in the stomach of a fish that was served at his table. Many
curious fictions on this subject are related by Arabian writers in a book
called ‘Salcuthat,’ devoted to the subject of magical rings, and they
trace this particular ring of Solomon in a regular succession from Jared,
the father of Enoch, to the ‘wisest of men.’[19]
Old legends state that Joseph and the Virgin Mary used at their espousals
a ring of onyx or amethyst. The discovery is dated from the year 996, when
the ring was given by a jeweller from Jerusalem to a lapidary of Clusium,
who indicated its origin. The miraculous powers of the ring having been
found out by accident, it was placed in a church, when its efficacy in
curing disorders of every kind was remarkable–trifling, however, in
comparison with its singular power of multiplying itself. Similar rings
were claimed as the genuine relic by many churches in Europe at the same
time, and received the same devout homage.
This superstition of the ‘Virgin’s Ring’ still prevails in Catholic
countries. Thus, the correspondent of the ‘Standard’ newspaper, in an
article contributed to that journal on ‘Art in Perugia’ (Sept. 4, 1875),
writes:–‘We went into the Duomo, or cathedral of Perugia. It is not among
the churches most worth visiting. Several other churches contain far more,
and more interesting works of art in various kinds. The “Nuptial Ring of
the Virgin Mary,” which is the treasure on which the Chapter of Perugia
most prides itself, is not to be seen. A sacristan whom I innocently asked
to show it to me, looked at me and spoke to me as much as if I had
requested him to show me round the wondrous scene described by the Seer of
the Apocalypse. He told me, indeed, when his first astonishment at my
ignorant audacity had somewhat calmed down, that the ring could be seen if
I would “call again” on St. Joseph’s day next, on which solemnity it is
every year exhibited from a high balcony in the church to the kneeling
crowds of the faithful from all the country-side. Meanwhile it was locked
away behind innumerable bars and doors, the many keys of which are in the
keeping of I do not know how many high ecclesiastical authorities.
‘The ring itself, a plain gold circlet–large enough, apparently, for any
man’s thumb, and about six times as thick as any ordinary marriage-ring (I
have seen an accurate engraving of it)–is, of course, in no wise worth
seeing. But the casket in which it is kept–a very remarkable specimen of
mediæval goldsmiths’ work–is, by all accounts, very much so. However, it
is not to be seen, not even on St. Joseph’s day, to any good purpose.’
I may add that the celebrated painting of the Marriage of the Virgin, by
Perugino, was formerly in this chapel of the cathedral, called ‘Del Santo
Anelo,’ or the Holy Ring, but was removed, with many other spoils, after
the treaty of Tolentino, and is now in the Museum of Caen, in Normandy.
In the old Mystery of the ‘Miraculous Espousal of Mary and Joseph,’
Issachar, the ‘Busshopp,’ says:–
‘Mary; wole ye have this man
And hym to kepyn, as yo lyff?’
_Maria._– ‘In the tenderest wyse, fadyr, as I kan,
And with all my wyttys ffyll.’
_Ep’us._– ‘Joseph; with this rynge now wedde thi wyff,
And be her hand, now, thou her take.’
_Joseph._–‘Ser, with this rynge, I wedde her ryff,
And take her’ now her’ for my make.’[20]
The planet Jupiter was considered by the Hebrews propitious for weddings,
and the newly-married gave rings on those occasions, on which the words
_Mazal Tob_ were inscribed, signifying that good fortune would happen
under that star.
A remarkable gold talismanic ring, supposed, on satisfactory grounds, by
Colonel Tod (author of ‘Annals and Antiquities of Rajast’han’) to be of
Hindu workmanship, was found some years since on the Fort Hill, near
Montrose, on the site of an engagement in the reign of the unfortunate
Queen Mary. This ring had an astrological and mythological import. It
represented the symbol of the sun-god Bal-nat’h, around which is wreathed
a serpent _guardant_, with two bulls as supporters, or the powers of
creative nature in unison, typified in the miniature Lingam and Noni–in
short, a graven image of that primæval worship which prevailed among the
nations of antiquity. This is ‘the pillar and the calf worshipped on the
fifteenth of the month’ (the sacred _Amavus_ of the Hindus) by the
Israelites, when they adopted the rites of the Syro-Phœnician adorers of
Bal, the sun. Colonel Tod considered that this curious relic belonged to
some superstitious devotee, who wore it as a talisman on his thumb.
According to Zoroaster, Ormuzd represented the Good Principle, and
Ahrimanes the Evil. The former is seen on ancient sculptures, holding, as
an emblem of power, a ring in one hand.
All the Hindu Mogul divinities are represented with rings. The statues of
the gods at Elephanta have, amongst other ornaments, finger-rings.
From Asia, legends connected with rings were introduced into Greece, and
numberless miraculous powers were ascribed to them. The classical
derivation of the ring was attributed to Prometheus, who, having incurred
the displeasure of Jupiter, was compelled to wear on his finger an iron
ring, to which was attached a fragment of the rock of the Caucasus.
To adorn the finger-ring with inlaid stone
Was first to men by wise Prometheus shown,
Who from Caucasian rock a fragment tore,
And, set in iron, on his finger wore.
The ring of Gyges, King of Lydia, rendered the wearer invisible when the
stone turned inwards[21] (so also the ring of Eluned, the Lunet of the old
English romance of Ywaine and Gawaine, and in several German stories). The
ring of Polycrates the tyrant, which was flung into the sea to propitiate
Nemesis, was found, like that of Solomon, inside a fish served at his
table. The story is thus related by Herodotus. Amasis, King of Egypt,
after Polycrates had obtained possession of the island of Samos, sent the
tyrant a friendly letter, expressing a fear of the continuance of his
singular prosperity, for he had never known such an instance of felicity
which did not come to calamity in the long run; advising, therefore,
Polycrates to throw away some favourite gem in such a way that he might
never see it again, as a kind of charm against misfortune. Polycrates
took the advice, and, sailing away from the shore in a boat, threw a
valuable signet-ring–an emerald set in gold–into the sea, in sight of
all on board. This done he returned home and gave vent to his sorrow. It
happened five or six days afterwards that a fisherman caught a fish so
large and beautiful that he thought it well deserved to be presented to
the King. So he took it with him to the gate of the palace, and said that
he wanted to see Polycrates. On being admitted the fisherman gave him the
fish with these words: ‘Sir King, when I took this prize I thought I would
not carry it to market, though I am a poor man who lives by his trade. I
said to myself, it is worthy of Polycrates and his greatness, and so I
brought it here to give to you.’ The speech pleased the King, who replied:
‘Thou didst well, friend, and I am doubly indebted both for the gift and
the speech. Come now and sup with me.’ So the fisherman went home,
esteeming it a high honour that he had been asked to sup with the King.
Meanwhile the servants, in cutting open the fish, found the signet of
their master in the stomach. No sooner did they see it than they seized
upon it, and, hastening to Polycrates with great joy, restored it to him,
and told him in what way it had been found. The King, who saw something
providential in the matter, forthwith wrote a letter to Amasis telling him
all that had happened. Amasis perceived that it does not belong to man to
save his fellow-man from the fate which is in store for him. Likewise, he
felt certain that Polycrates would end ill, as he prospered in everything,
even finding what he had thrown away. So he sent a herald to Samos, and
dissolved the contract of friendship. This he did that when the great and
heavy misfortune came he might escape the grief which he would have felt
if the sufferer had been his loved friend. Polycrates died in the third
year of the 64th Olympiad. This seal-ring was taken later to Rome, where
Pliny relates that he saw and handled it. The Emperor Augustus had it
inserted in a horn of gold, and placed it in the temple of Concord, in the
midst of other golden objects of great value. The seal is represented to
have been as large as a crown piece, in shape a little oblong. The subject
was a lyre, around which were three bees in the upper part; at the foot
was a dolphin on the right, and the head of a bull on the left–the lyre,
the emblem of poetry; the bees, industry; the bull, production; and the
dolphin, a friend to man.
Some years ago, it was reported that this remarkable seal-ring was found
by an inhabitant of Albano in a vineyard, but this story has never been
confirmed.
Apart from the superstitious inferences deduced from the singular recovery
of the ring, the fact itself may be probably accepted. The Rev. C. W.
King, in ‘Precious Stones, Gems, and Precious Metals,’ observes: ‘There
can be little doubt that this tale of the “Fish and the Ring” is true.
Fish, especially the mackerel, greedily swallow any glittering object
dropped into the sea; and within my own recollection, one when opened was
found to contain a wedding-ring.’[22]
Legends of the fish and the ring are found in most countries: the ancient
Indian drama of Sacontala has an incident of this character. In the
armorial bearings of the see of Glasgow, and now of the city, the stem of
St. Kentigern’s tree is crossed by a salmon bearing in its mouth a ring.
The legend attached to this is related in ‘Jocelin’s Life of St.
Kentigern.’ In the days of this saint, a lady having lost her
wedding-ring, it stirred up her husband’s jealousy, to allay which she
applied to Kentigern, imploring his help for the safety of her honour. Not
long after, as the holy man walked by the river, he desired a person who
was fishing to bring him the first fish he could catch, which was
accordingly done, and from its mouth was taken the lady’s ring, which he
immediately sent to her, to remove her husband’s suspicions. So runs the
legend; but a more truthful explanation of the arms of St. Mungo
attributes the ring to the episcopal office, and the fish to the scaly
treasures of the river at the foot of the metropolitan cathedral.[23]
An Italian legend ascribes as an omen of the downfall of the Venetian
republic that the ring cast into the Adriatic by the Doge, in token of his
marriage to the sea, was found in a fish that was served up at his table a
year after the custom had been observed.
A popular ballad of old, called the ‘Cruel Knight, or the Fortunate
Farmer’s Daughter,’ represents a knight passing a cot, and hearing that
the woman within is in childbirth. His knowledge in the occult sciences
informs him that the child to be born is destined to become his wife. He
endeavours to evade the decrees of fate, and, to avoid so ignoble an
alliance, by various attempts to destroy the child, but which are
defeated. At length, when grown to woman’s estate, he takes her to the
sea-side, intending to drown her but relents; at the same time, throwing a
ring into the sea, he commands her never to see his face again, on pain of
death, unless she can produce the ring. She afterwards becomes a cook in a
gentleman’s family, and finds the ring in a cod-fish as she is dressing it
for dinner. The marriage takes place, of course.
The monument to Lady Berry in Stepney Church bears:–paly of six on a
bend, three mullets (Elton) impaling a fish, and in the dexter chief point
an annulet between two bends wavy. This coat of arms, which exactly
corresponds with that borne by Ventris, of Cambridgeshire, has given rise
to the tradition that Lady Berry was the heroine of the above story. The
ballad lays the scene of the events in Yorkshire, but incidents of the
ring and the fish are, as I observed, numerous.[24]
The various arts employed by the ancients in ‘divination’ were many. The
annexed illustrations, representing divination rings, are taken from
Liceti, ‘Antiqua Schemata’ (_Gemmarium Annularium_); the two figures on
one ring are trying eagerly to discover future events in a crystal globe.
Crystallomancy included every variety of divination by means of
transparent bodies. These, polished and enchanted, signified their meaning
by certain marks and figures.
The serpent held by the female figure refers to _ophiomancy_, the art
which the ancients pretended to, of making predictions by serpents.
According to the _ophites_, who emanated from the Gnostics, the serpent
was instructed in all knowledge, and was the father and author of all the
sciences.
The hieroglyphic ring represents a sphinx, the monster described by the
poets as having a human face with the body of a bird or quadruped, the
paws of a lion, the tail of a dragon, &c. It was said to propose riddles
to those it met with, and destroyed those who could not answer them. Upon
this they consulted the oracle, to know what should be done. It answered
that they could not be delivered until they could solve this riddle: ‘What
creature is that which has four feet in the morning, two at noon, and
three towards night.’ Œdipus answered that it was a man, who, in his
infancy, crawled on all fours, until he was sufficiently strong to walk;
then went on two legs, until old age obliged him to use a staff to help
and support him. On this the monster is said to have dashed out its brains
against a rock.
The star over the head of the sphinx in the engraving represents the
divination by stars practised by the Cabalists. The stars vertical over a
city or nation were so united by lines as to form resemblances of the
Hebrew letters, and thus words which were deemed prophetic. Burder remarks
that the rise of a new star, or the appearance of a comet, was thought to
portend the birth of a great person; also that the gods sent stars to
point out the way to their favourites, as Virgil shows, and as Suetonius
and Pliny actually relate in the case of Julius Cæsar.
The cup or vase represented in the engraving near the sphinx refers to the
divination by the cup, one of the most ancient methods of discovering
future events by crystalline reflection. The divining cup of Joseph shows
that its use was familiar in Egypt at that remote period.[25]
Charmed rings found easy believers among the Greeks and the Romans, and
were special articles of traffic. Such objects, made of wood, bone, or
some other cheap materials, were manufactured in large numbers at Athens,
and could be purchased, gifted with any charm required, for the small
consideration of a single drachma.
In the ‘Plutus’ of Aristophanes, to a threat on the part of the sycophant,
the just man replies ‘that he is proof against evil influences, having a
charmed ring.’ Carion, the servant, observes ‘that the ring would not
prevail against the bite of a sycophant.’ The ring was probably a
medicated one, to preserve from demons and serpents.
The following engraving from Gorlæus represents a human head with an
elephant’s trunk, &c., holding a trident, an amulet against the perils of
the sea:–
The council of ravens, prophetic birds (and attributes of Apollo), or
crows, which were used as symbols of conjugal fidelity:–
A silver ring on a sardonyx, engraved with the figure of a sow, as a
propitiatory sacrifice:–
In Lucian’s ‘Philopseudes,’ in a dialogue called the Ship or Wish, a man
is introduced who desires that Mercury should bestow a ring on him to
confer perpetual health and preservation from danger.
Benvenuto Cellini, in his ‘Memoirs,’ mentions the discovery in Rome of
certain vases, ‘which appeared to be antique urns filled with ashes;
amongst these were iron rings inlaid with gold, in each of which was set a
diminutive shell. Learned antiquarians, upon investigating the nature of
these rings, declared their opinion that they were worn as charms by those
who desired to behave with steadiness and resolution either in prosperous
or adverse fortune. I likewise took things of this nature in hand at the
request of some gentlemen who were my particular friends, and wrought some
of these little rings, but I made them of steel, well-tempered, and then
cut and inlaid with gold, so that they were very beautiful to behold;
sometimes for a single ring of this sort I was paid above forty crowns.’
In Rome there were altars to the Samothracian deities, who were supposed
to preside over talismans. The people of that island were extensive
manufacturers of iron rings, to which they attached supernatural
qualities.
On ancient Mexican rings and seals set with precious stones are
constellation representations, as, for example, Pisces. Those people
awaited their Messiah, or Crusher of the Serpent, during the conjunction
of Jupiter and Saturn, in the same zodiacal sign of Pisces, the protecting
sign of Syria and Palestine.
Pliny informs us that the ancients set additional value on articles made
of jet, such as rings, buttons, &c., from a notion that it possessed the
virtue of driving away serpents–a belief which existed also in the days
of the Venerable Bede, who, describing the various mineral productions of
Britain, says: ‘It has much excellent jet, which is black and sparkling,
glittering at the fire, and, when heated, drives away serpents.’ Some
examples of jet rings have been found at Uriconium.
A portrait of Alexander the Great, set in a gold or silver ring, and
carried about on the finger, was supposed by the Greeks to ensure
prosperity to the wearer; as a reverse, one of the omens announcing the
fall of Nero was the presentation to him of a ring engraved with the Rape
of Proserpine, being a symbol of death.[26]
Spartian includes among the omens of Hadrian’s coming death the falling
off from his finger of his ring, ‘which bore a likeness to himself,’ as he
was taking the auspices on a New Year’s day, and so obtaining a
foreshadowing of the events of the coming year.
A portrait of Hadrian, engraved with Mercury in a magic ring (Gorlæus):–
Heliodorus describes a precious stone as set in the King of Ethiopia’s
ring, one of the royal jewels, the shank being formed of electrum and the
bezel flaming with an Ethiopian amethyst, engraved with a youthful
shepherd and his flock–an antidote to the wearer against intoxication.
Philostratus relates how Chariclea escaped unharmed from the funeral pyre
on which she was condemned to be burnt by the jealous Arsace, from having
secreted about her the espousal-ring of King Hydaspes, ‘which was set with
the stone called Pandarbes, engraved with certain sacred letters’ and
antagonistic to fire.
In the British Museum is a remarkable collection of ornaments of the Roman
period connected with the worship of the Deæ Matres, discovered in the
county of Durham, or in some adjoining district in the beginning of this
century. Among these are several rings which have been elaborately
described by Mr. Edward Hawkins in the ‘Archæological Journal’ for March
1851 (vol. viii.), with illustrations.
In the Waterton Collection are some specimens of Gnostic Roman rings, of
the third century: one, of silver, is set with an intaglio on bloodstone
of an Abraxas figure, with head of a jackal. The others have Gnostic
emblems and inscriptions.
Astrological rings in connexion with mythological representations were
worn by the ancients.
The accompanying engraving from Gorlæus represents the sun and stars.
According to the Gnostic theories, the properties of the sun on the
destinies of men were numerous and important. The mystical virtues of the
most precious stones were under the solar influence.
Planetary rings were formed of the gems assigned to the several planets,
each set in its appropriate metal: thus, the Sun, diamond or sapphire in a
ring of gold; the Moon, crystal in silver; Mercury, magnet, in
quicksilver; Venus, amethyst in copper; Mars, emerald in iron; Jupiter,
cornelian in tin; Saturn, turquoise in lead.
From the remotest antiquity every planet in the heavens was believed to
possess a virtue peculiar to itself. Each presided over some kingdom,
nation, or city; then, extending its influence to individuals, it decided
their personal appearance, temperament, disposition, character, health,
and fortune, and even influenced the several members and parts of the
body. After this, it ruled plants, herbs, animals, stones, and all the
various productions of nature. Southey, in the ‘Doctor’ (vol. iii. p.
112), commenting on the exhibition of the Zodiacal signs in the ‘Margarita
Philosophica,’ a work of the sixteenth century, observes: ‘There Homo
stands naked, but not ashamed, upon the two Pisces, one foot upon each;
the fish being neither in air nor water, nor upon earth, but
self-suspended, as it appears, in the void. _Aries_ has alighted with two
feet on Homo’s head, and has sent a shaft through the forehead into his
brain. _Taurus_ has quietly seated himself across his neck. The _Gemini_
are riding astride a little below his right shoulder. The whole trunk is
laid open, as if part of the old accursed punishment for high treason had
been performed on him. The _Lion_ occupies the thorax as his proper
domain, and the _Crab_ is in possession of his domain. _Sagittarius_,
volant in the void, has just let fly an arrow which is on its way to his
right arm. _Capricornus_ breathes out a visible influence that penetrates
both knees. _Aquarius_ inflicts similar punctures upon both legs. _Virgo_
fishes, as it were, at his intestines, _Libra_ at the part affected by
schoolmasters in their anger, and _Scorpio_ takes the wickedest aim of
all.’
The old astrological definition of the Zodiac seems to be this–that it
was the division of the great circle of the heavens into twelve parts.
These twelve parts are divided into those called _northern_ and
_commanding_ (the first six), and those called southern and _obeying_ (the
remaining six). The other constellations of the two hemispheres are not
unconsidered in astrology, but those of the zodiac are more important,
because they form the pathway of the sun, the moon, and the planets, and
are supposed to receive from these bodies, as they roll through their
spaces, extraordinary energy.[27]
The following illustration from Liceti, ‘Antiqua Schemata Gemmarum
Annularium,’ represents Jupiter, Mercury, Pallas, and Neptune surrounded
by the signs of the Zodiac:–
Among the various modes of enquiring by magical means as to who should
succeed to the Roman emperorship during the reigns of Valentinian and
Valens, we are told that the letters of the alphabet were artificially
disposed in a circle, and a magic ring, being suspended over the centre,
was believed to point to the initial letters of the name of him who should
be the future emperor. Theodorus, a man of most eminent qualifications and
high popularity, was put to death by the jealousy of Valens on the vague
evidence that this kind of trial had indicated the first letters of his
name. Gibbon remarks on this point that the name of Theodosius, who
actually succeeded, begins with the same letters which were indicated in
this magic trial.
This ring mystery, the _Dactylomancia_ (from two Greek words signifying
_ring_ and _divination_), was a favourite operation of the ancients. It
was preceded by certain ceremonies, and the ring was subjected to a form
of conjuration. The person who held it was arrayed in linen, a circlet of
hair was left by an artistic barber on his head, and in his hand he held
a branch of vervain. An invocation to the gods preceded the ceremony.
The ‘suspended ring,’ another mode of divination practised at a later
period, is thus described by Peucer among various modes of hydromancy: ‘A
bowl was filled with water, and a ring suspended from the finger was
librated in the water, and so, according as the question was propounded, a
declaration, or confirmation of its truth, or otherwise, was obtained. If
what was proposed was true, the ring, of its own accord, without any
impulse, struck the sides of the goblet a certain number of times. They
say that Numa Pompilius used to practise this method, and that he evoked
the gods, and consulted them in water this way.’
The ring suspended over a monarch was supposed to indicate certain persons
among those sitting round the table, and if a hair was used, taken from
one of the company, it would swing towards that individual only. An
ancient method of divining by the ring is similar in principle to the
modern table-rapping. The edge of a round table was marked with the
characters of the alphabet, and the ring stopped over certain letters,
which, being joined together, composed the answer.
In another method of practising Dactylomancy, rings were put on the
finger-nails when the sun entered Leo, and the moon Gemini, or the sun and
Mercury were in Gemini and the moon in Cancer; or the sun in Sagittarius,
the moon in Scorpio, and Mercury in Leo. These rings were made of gold,
silver, copper, iron, or lead, and magical characters were attached to
them, but how they operated we are not informed.
Another mode of water divination with the ring was to throw three pebbles
into standing water, and draw observations from the circles which they
formed.
Divination by sounds emitted by striking two rings was practised by
Execetus, tyrant of the Phocians.
In the enchanted rings of the Greeks the position of the celestial bodies
was most important. Pliny states that all the Orientals preferred the
emerald jasper, and considered it an infallible panacea for every ill. Its
power was strengthened when combined with silver instead of gold. Galen
recommends a ring with jasper set in it, and engraved with the figure of a
man wearing a bunch of herbs round his neck.[28] Many of the Gnostic or
Basilidian gems, evidently used for magical purposes, were of jasper.
Apollonius of Tyana, in Cappadocia, who flourished in the first age of the
Christian era, and who fixed his residence in the temple of Æsculapius,
considered the use of charmed rings so essential to quackery that he wore
a different ring on each day of the week, marked with the planet of the
day. He had received a present of the seven rings from Iarchas, the Indian
philosopher.[29]
It was a belief among the Poles that each month of the year was under the
influence of a precious stone. Thus January was represented by the garnet,
emblem of constancy and fidelity; February, the amethyst, sincerity;
March, bloodstone, courage and presence of mind; April, diamond,
innocence; May, emerald, success in love; June, agate, health and long
life; July, cornelian, contented mind; August, sardonyx, conjugal
felicity: September, chrysote, antidote against madness; October, opal,
hope; November, topaz, fidelity; December, turquoise, prosperity. These
several stones were set in rings and other trinkets, as presents, &c.
In the early and middle ages it was not only generally believed that rings
could be charmed by the power of a magician, but that the engraved stones
on ancient rings which were found on old sites possessed supernatural
properties, the benefits of which would be imparted to the wearer.
The great potentate Charlemagne, we are told by old French writers, was,
in his youth, desperately in love with a young and beautiful woman, and
gave himself up to pleasure in her society, neglecting the affairs of
State. She died, and Charles was inconsolable at her loss. The Archbishop
of Cologne endeavoured to withdraw him from her dead body, and at length,
approaching the corpse, took from its mouth a ring in which was set a
precious stone of remarkable beauty. It was the talisman which had charmed
the monarch, whose passionate grief became now immediately subdued. The
body was buried, and the Archbishop, fearing lest Charles might experience
a similar magical effect in another seducer, threw it into a lake near
Aix-la-Chapelle. The virtue of this marvellous ring was not, however, lost
by this incident, for the legend relates that the monarch became so
enamoured of the lake that his chief delight was in walking by its margin,
and he became so much attached to the spot that he had a palace erected
there, and made it the seat of his empire.
In the Persian Tales a king strikes off the hand of a sorceress (who had
assumed the appearance of his queen), which had a ring upon it, when she
immediately appears as a frightful hag.
The charmed ring of Aladdin plays a wonderful part in the ‘Arabian Nights’
Entertainments.’
One of the earliest ring superstitions in our own country, is that
connected with the life of Edward the Confessor. In the mortuary chapel of
this saintly monarch in Westminster Abbey are fourteen subjects in
_relievi_, represented on the frieze of the screen on the western side, of
incidents in the King’s life, in which the legend of the ‘Pilgrim’
(derived from a chronicle written by Ælred–a monk, and, later, abbot of
Rievaulx, who died in 1166–but taken almost entirely from the life of St.
Edward, by Osbert or Osbern, of Clare, prior of Westminster). is curiously
displayed. The whole length of this sculpture is thirty-eight feet six
inches by three feet in height. The relief is very bold, the irregular
concave ground being much hollowed out behind. The compartment relating
to the ring represents St. John, in the garb of a pilgrim, asking alms of
the King. The figures are much injured. The monarch occupies the centre of
the compartment, and a pilgrim or beggar is before him on the spectator’s
right hand. Behind the King is a figure holding a pastoral staff–probably
an ecclesiastic–and in front of whom, between the King and himself,–is
an object not easily defined, but which appears like a basket. This design
is interesting, from the back-ground being entirely filled in by a large
and handsome church. This refers to the subject mentioned by Ælred, of the
King being engaged in the construction of a church in honour of St. John,
when the pilgrim appeared and asked alms.
According to the legend, King Edward was on his way to Westminster, when
he was met by a beggar, who implored him in the name of St. John–the
apostle peculiarly venerated by the monarch–to grant him assistance. The
charitable King had exhausted his ready-money in alms-giving, but drew
from his finger a ring, ‘large, beautiful, and royal,’ which he gave to
the beggar, who thereupon disappeared. Shortly afterwards, two English
pilgrims in the Holy Land found themselves benighted, and in great
distress, when suddenly the path before them was lighted up, and an old
man, white and hoary, preceded by two tapers, accosted them. Upon telling
him to what country they belonged, the old man, ‘joyously like to a
clerk,’ guided them to a hostelry, and announced that he was John the
Evangelist, the special patron of King Edward, and gave them a ring to
carry back to the monarch, with the warning that in six months’ time the
King would be with him in Paradise. The pilgrims returned and found the
King at his palace, called from this incident ‘Havering atte Bower.’ He
recognised the ring, and prepared for his end accordingly. On the death
of the Confessor, according to custom, he was attired in his royal robes,
the crown on his head, a crucifix and gold chain round his neck, and the
‘Pilgrim’s Ring’ on his finger. The body was laid before the high altar at
Westminster Abbey (A.D. 1066). On the translation of the remains of Henry
the Second, the ring of St. John is said to have been withdrawn, and
deposited as a relic among the crown jewels.[30] During the reign of Henry
III. some repairs were made at the tower, and orders were given for
drawing in the chapel of St. John two figures of St. Edward holding out a
ring and delivering it to St. John the Evangelist.
As a proof, also, how this beautiful legend was engrafted on the popular
mind in after ages, we find it stated in the account of the coronation of
Edward II. (1307), that the King offered, first a pound of gold, made like
a king holding a ring in his hand, and afterwards a mark, or eight ounces
of gold, formed into the likeness of a pilgrim putting forth his hand to
receive the ring, a conceit suggested by the legend of the Confessor. So
great was the sanctity in which this monarch (who was influenced by
childish and superstitious fancies) was held, that Richard II., whenever
he left the kingdom, confided the ring which he usually wore to the
custodian of St. Edward’s shrine.
‘It appears,’ observes Mr. Edmund Waterton (‘Archæological Journal,’ No.
82, 1864), ‘that St. Edward’s ring was deposited with his corpse in his
tomb. His translation took place on the third of the ides of October
(October 13), A.D. 1163, ninety-seven years after the burial. This
ceremony was performed at midnight, and on opening his coffin the body was
found to be incorrupt. On this occasion the Abbot Lawrence took from the
body of the sainted king his robes and the ring of St. John; of the robes
the abbot made three copes, as appears from the following entry in the
catalogue of the relics of the saint. The abbot also gave the ring to the
abbey: “Dompnus Laurentius quondam abbas hujus loci … sed et annulo
ejusdem (Sancti Edwardi) quem Sancto Johanni quondam tradidit, quem et
ipse de paradiso remisit, elapsis annis duobus et dimidio, postea in nocte
translationis de digito regis tulit, et pro miraculo in loco isto
custodiri jussit.” The same manuscript (“De Fundacione ecclesie Westm.” by
Ric. Sporley, a monk of the abbey, A.D. 1450), contains the indulgences to
be gained by those who visited the holy relics:–“Ad annulum Sancti
Edwardi vj. ann. iijc. xi. dies.” No further mention has been found of St.
Edward’s ring.’[31]
Another legendary story, in connection with saintly interposition, is
related in the annals of Venice. Moreover, it forms the subject of a
painting, attributed (though with some doubt) to Giorgione, ‘St. Mark
staying, miraculously, the tempest,’ in the Accademia Picture Gallery at
Venice.
‘In the year 1341, an inundation of many days’ continuance had raised the
water three cubits higher than it had ever before been seen at Venice; and
during a stormy night, while the flood appeared to be still increasing, a
poor fisherman sought what refuge he could find by mooring his crazy bark
close to the _Riva di San Marco_. The storm was yet raging, when a person
approached and offered him a good fare if he would but ferry him over to
_San Giorgio Maggiore_. ‘Who,’ said the fisherman, ‘can reach San Giorgio
on such a night as this? Heaven forbid that I should try!’ But as the
stranger earnestly persisted in his request, and promised to guard him
from all harm, he at last consented. The passenger landed, and having
desired the boatman to wait a little, returned with a companion, and
ordered him to row to _San Nicolo di Lido_. The astonished fisherman again
refused, till he was prevailed upon by a further assurance of safety and
excellent pay. At _San Nicolo_ they picked up a third person, and then
instructed the boatman to proceed to the Two Castles at Lido. Though the
waves ran fearfully high, the old man had by this time become accustomed
to them, and moreover, there was something about his mysterious crew which
either silenced his fears, or diverted them from the tempest to his
companions. Scarcely had they gained the Strait, than they saw a galley,
rather flying than sailing along the Adriatic, manned (if we may so say)
with devils, who seemed hurrying with fierce and threatening gestures, to
sink Venice in the deep. The sea, which had been furiously agitated, in a
moment became unruffled, and the strangers, crossing themselves, conjured
the fiends to depart. At the word the demoniacal galley vanished, and the
three passengers were quietly landed at the spots where each,
respectively, had been taken up.
The boatman, it seems, was not quite easy about his fare, and before
parting, he implied, pretty clearly, that the sight of the miracle would,
after all, be bad pay. ‘You are right, my friend,’ said the first
passenger; ‘go to the Doge and the Procuratori, and assure them that, but
for us three, Venice would have been drowned. I am St. Mark; my two
comrades are St George and St. Nicholas. Desire the magistrate to pay you;
and add that all the trouble has arisen from a schoolmaster at San Felice,
who first bargained with the devil for his soul, and then hanged himself
in despair.’
The fisherman, who seemed to have, all his wits about him, answered that
he might tell that story, but he much doubted whether he should be
believed; upon which St. Mark pulled from his finger a gold ring, worth
about five ducats, saying:–‘Show them this ring, and bid them look for it
in my Treasury, whence it will be found missing.’ On the morrow the
fisherman did as he was told. The ring was discovered to be absent from
its usual custody, and the fortunate boatman not only received his fare,
but an annual pension to boot. Moreover, a solemn procession and
thanksgiving were appointed in gratitude to the three holy corpses which
had rescued from such calamity the land affording them burial.’
Pope Hildebrand, one of the prime movers of the Norman invasion of
England, excommunicated Harold and his supporters, and despatched a sacred
banner, as well as a diamond ring enclosing one of the Apostle Peter’s
hairs, to Normandy.
The mediæval romances abound in allusions to the wonderful virtues of
rings. These were cherished conceits among the old writers. In the
fabulous history of Ogier le Danois the fairy Morgana gives that hero a
ring, which, although at that time he was one hundred years old, gives him
the appearance of a man of thirty. After a lapse of two hundred years
Ogier appears at the court of France, where the secret of his
transformation is found out by the old Countess of Senlis, who, while
making love to him, draws the talisman from his finger, and places it on
her own. She instantly blossoms into youth, while Ogier as suddenly sinks
into decrepitude. The Countess, however, is forced to give back the ring,
and former appearances are restored, but as she had discovered the virtues
of the ring, she employs thirty champions to regain it, all of whom are
successfully defeated by Ogier.
In the ‘Vision of Pierce Plowman’ (about 1350) the poet speaks of a woman
whose fingers were all embellished with rings of gold, set with diamonds,
rubies, and sapphires, and _also Oriental stones or amulets to prevent any
poisonous infection_.
In the romance of ‘Sir Perceval of Galles’ the knight obtains
surreptitious possession of a ring endowed with mysterious qualities:–
Suche a vertue es in the stane
In alle thys werlde wote I nane,
Siche stone in a rynge;
A mane that had it in were,
One his body for to bere,
There scholde no dyntys hym dere,
Ne to the dethe brynge.
So in ‘Sir Eglamour of Artois’:–
Seyde Organata that swete thynge
Y schalle geve the a gode golde rynge
With a fulle ryche stone,
Whedur that ye be on water or on londe,
And that rynge be upon yowre honde,
Ther schall nothyng yow slon.
The ring, a gift to Canace, daughter of King Cambuscan, in the ‘Squire’s
Tale’ of Chaucer, taught the language of birds, and also imparted to the
wearer a knowledge of plants, which formed an important part of the
Arabian philosophy:–
The vertue of this ring, if ye wol here,
Is this, that if hire list it for to were,
Upon hire thomb, or in hire purse it bere,
There is no fowle that fleeth under haven,
That she ne shal wel onderstond his steven (language)
And know his mening openlie and plaine,
And answere him in his langage againe,[32]
And every gras that groweth upon rote,
She shal eke know and whom it wol do bote,
All be his woundes never so depe and wide.
In the romance of Ywain and Gawaine (supposed to have been written in the
reign of Henry VI.), when the knight is in perilous confinement, a lady
looks out of a wicket which opened in the walls of the gateway, and
releases him. She gives him a ring:–
I sal leue the her mi ring,
Bot yelde it me at myne askyng,
When thou ert broght of al thi payn,
Yelde it than to me ogayne:
Als the bark kills the tre,
Right so sal my ring do the;
When thou in hand hast the stane,
Der (harm) sal thai do the nane;
For the stane es of swilk might,
Of the sal men have na syght–
thus possessing the power ascribed to the ring of Gyges. In a story of the
‘Gseta Romanorum’ a father, on his death-bed, gives a ring to his son, the
virtue of which was that whoever wore it would obtain the love of all men.
In chapter x. of the same work the Emperor Vespasian marries a wife in a
distant country, who refuses to return home with him, and yet declares
that she will kill herself if he leaves her. In this dilemma the emperor
orders two rings to be made having wonderful efficacious properties; one
represents on a precious stone the figure of Oblivion, and the other bears
the image of Memory. The former he gives to the empress, the latter he
keeps himself. Chapter cxx. contains the story of the legacy of King
Darius to his three sons. The eldest receives his inheritance, the second
all that had been acquired by conquest, and the third a ring, a necklace,
and a rich mantle, all of which possess magical properties. He who wore
the ring gained the love and favour of all; the collar obtained all that
the heart could desire, and whoever laid down on the mantle would be
instantly transported to any part of the world he might desire to visit.
In the romance of ‘Melusine,’ the heroine, when about to leave the house
of her husband, gives him two rings, and says: ‘My sweet love, you see
here two rings which have both the same virtue, and know well for truth,
so long as you possess them, or one of them, you shall never be overcome
in pleading, nor in battle, if your cause be rightful, and neither you nor
others who may possess them shall ever die by any weapons.’
The ring given by the Princess Rigmel to Horn possessed similar
properties, as also the ring in the ‘Little Rose-garden,’ given by the
Lady Similt to her brother Dietlieb.
In Orlando’s ‘Inamorata’ the palace and gardens of Dragontina vanish at
Angelica’s ring of virtue, which also enables her to become invisible.
Now that she this upon her hand surveys,
She is so full of pleasure and surprise,
She doubts it is a dream, and, in amaze,
Hardly believes her very hand and eyes.
Then softly to her mouth the hoop conveys,
And, quicker than the flash which cleaves the skies,
From bold Rogero’s sight her beauty shrouds,
As disappears the sun concealed in clouds.
Lydgate, in his ‘Troy book’ (1513), relates how Medea gives to Iason, when
he is going to combat the brazen bulls, and to lull to sleep the dragon
that guarded the golden fleece, a ring, in which was a gem charmed against
poison, and would render the wearer invisible. ‘It was a sort of precious
stone,’ says Lydgate, ‘which Virgil celebrates, and which Venus sent her
son Æneas that he might enter Carthage.’
In the metrical romance of ‘Richard Cœur-de-Lion,’ King Modard gives
him:–
Two riche rings of gold:
The stones wherein be full bold.
Hence to the land of Ind,
Better than they shalt thou not find.
For whoso hath that one stone,
Water ne shall him drench none.
That other stone whoso that bear
Fire ne shall him never dere (hurt).
In ‘Floire and Blanceflor’ the latter, drawing from her finger a ring
containing a small talisman, says to her lover: ‘Floire, accept this as a
pledge of our mutual love; look on it every day; if thou seest its
brilliancy tarnished, it is a sign that my life or my liberty is in
danger.’
In another part of the story, when going in search of Blanceflor, who has
been carried away, Floire receives a ring from his mother: ‘Have now, lief
son, this ring: whilst thou preservest it neither fire shall burn, nor
water drown, nor weapon injure thee, and all thy wants shall be instantly
supplied.’
In the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xix. p. 411) is a notice of a gold ring found
in the ruins of the palace at Eltham, in Kent, bearing on the side edges
of the interior the following inscription:–
Qui me portera ecploitera
Et a grant Joye revendra.
Who wears me shall perform exploits,
And with great Joy shall return:
implying that the ring was an amulet, and may, possibly, have been
presented to some distinguished personage when setting out for the Holy
Land in the time of the Crusades. The ring is set with an oriental ruby
and five diamonds, placed at equal distances round the exterior.
The inscription is in small Gothic characters, but remarkably well-formed
and legible. The shape of the ruby is an irregular oval, while the
diamonds are all of a triangular form and in their natural crystallised
state.
An emerald ring was thought to ensure purity of thought and conduct. In
‘Caltha Poetarium, or the Humble Bee,’ by T. Cutwode (1599), Diana is
represented adorning the heroine of the piece:–
And, with an emerald, hangs she on a ring
That keeps just reckoning of our chastity:
And, therefore, ladies, it behoves you well
To walk full warily when stones will tell.
In the ballad of ‘Northumberland betrayed by Douglas,’ Mary, a Douglas
that dabbled in sorcery, shows the chamberlain of Earl Percy, James
Swynard, the foes of the former in the field, through the ‘weme’ (hollow)
of her ring:–
I never was on English ground,
Ne never sawe it with mine eye,
But as my book it sheweth me,
And through my ring I may descrye.
The treachery of Earl Douglas is thus foreshadowed, and the chamberlain
returns sorrowfully to his master with the news of what he had seen. Earl
Percy, however, is determined to keep his hunting appointment with
Douglas:–
Now nay, now nay, good James Swynard,
I may not believe that witch ladye;
The Douglasses were ever true,
And they can ne’er prove false to me.
The ‘witch-ladye’ who effects such powerful influences with her magic ring
is, nevertheless, rewarded for her warnings:–
He writhe a gold ring from his finger
And gave itt to that gay ladye;
Sayes ‘it was all that I cold save
In Harley woods where I cold bee’ (where I was).
A ring story in which the Venus of antiquity assumes the manners of one of
the Fays, or Fatæ of romance, is quoted by Sir Walter Scott in his notes
to the ‘Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.’ It is related by Fordun in his
‘Scotichronicon,’ by Matthew of Westminster, and Roger of Wendover. In the
year 1058 a young man of noble birth had been married at Rome, and during
the period of the nuptial feast, having gone with his companions to play
at ball, he put his marriage-ring on the finger of a broken statue of
Venus in the area to remain while he was engaged in the recreation.
Desisting from the exercise he found the finger on which he had placed the
ring, contracted firmly against the palm, and attempted in vain either to
break it, or to disengage his ring. He concealed the circumstance from his
companions, and returned at night with a servant, when he found the finger
extended and his ring gone. He dissembled the loss and returned to his
wife; but whenever he attempted to embrace her he found himself prevented
by something dark and dense, which was tangible, though not visible,
interposing between them, and he heard a voice saying: ‘Embrace me, for I
am Venus whom you this day wedded, and I will not restore your ring.’ As
this was constantly repeated, he consulted his relations, who had recourse
to Palumbus, a priest skilled in necromancy. He directed the young man to
go at a certain hour of the night to a spot among the ancient ruins of
Rome, where four roads met, and wait silently until he saw a company pass
by; and then, without uttering a word, to deliver a letter which he gave
him to a majestic being who rode in a chariot after the rest of the
company. The young man did so, and saw a company of all ages, sexes, and
ranks, on horse and on foot, some joyful and others sad, pass along; among
whom he distinguished a woman in a meretricious dress, who, from the
tenuity of her garments, seemed almost naked. She rode on a mule; her long
hair, which flowed over her shoulders, was bound with a golden fillet, and
in her hand was a gold rod with which she directed the mule. In the close
of the procession a tall majestic figure appeared in a chariot adorned
with emeralds and pearls, who fiercely asked the young man what he did
there. He presented the letter in silence, which the demon dared not
refuse. As soon as he had read, lifting up his hands to heaven, he
exclaimed: ‘Almighty God, how long wilt thou endure the iniquities of the
sorcerer Palumbus?’ and immediately despatched some of his attendants,
who, with much difficulty, extorted the ring from Venus, and restored it
to its owner, whose infernal bands were thus dissolved.[33]
Another mediæval story is founded on the same myth, but purified and
Christianised. A knight is playing at ball and incommoded by his ring. He
therefore removes it, and places it for safety on the finger of a statue
of the Blessed Virgin. On seeking it again he finds the hand of the finger
clasped, and is unable to recover his ring; whereupon the knight renounces
the world, and, as the betrothed of the Virgin, enters a monastery.
Gifts of rings to the Virgin were common in the Middle Ages. Monstrelet
relates that at the execution of the Constable of France, Louis de
Luxembourg, in the reign of Louis XI., he took a gold ring set with a
diamond from his finger, and, giving it to the Penitentiary, desired he
would offer it to the image of the Virgin Mary, and place it on her
finger, which he promised to perform.
Mr. J. Baring Gould, in his ‘Curious Myths of the Middle Ages,’ relates a
legend by Cæsarius of Heisterboch of a similar character to that of Venus
and the ring. A certain clerk, Philip, a great necromancer, took some
Swabian and Bavarian youths to a lonely spot in a field, where, at their
desire, he proceeded to perform incantations. First, he drew a circle
round them with his sword, and warned them on no consideration to leave
the ring.
Then, retiring from them a little space, he began his incantations, and
suddenly there appeared around the youths a multitude of armed men
brandishing weapons, and daring them to fight. The demons, failing to
draw them by this means from their enchanted circle, vanished, and there
was seen a company of beautiful damsels, dancing about the ring, and by
their attitudes alluring the youths towards them. One of them, exceeding
in beauty and grace the others, singled out a youth, and, dancing before
him, extended to him a ring of gold, casting languishing glances towards
him, and, by all the means in her power, endeavouring to attract his
attention and kindle his passion. The young man, unable to resist any
longer, put forth his finger beyond the circle to take the ring, and the
apparition at once drew him towards her, and vanished with him. However,
after much trouble, the necromancer was able to recover him from the evil
spirit.
‘The incident of the ring,’ remarks Mr. Gould, ‘in connexion with the
ancient goddess, is certainly taken from the old religion of the Teutonic
and Scandinavian peoples. Freyja was represented in her temples holding a
ring in her hand; so was Thorgerda Hördabrúda. The Faereyinga Saga relates
an event in the life of the Faroese hero Sigmund Brestesson, which is to
the point. “They (Earl Hakon and Sigmund) went to the temple, and the earl
fell on the ground before her statue, and there he lay long. The statue
was richly dressed, and had a heavy gold ring on the arm. And the earl
stood up and touched the ring, and tried to remove it, but could not; and
it seemed to Sigmund as though she frowned. Then the earl said: ‘She is
not pleased with thee, Sigmund, and I do not know whether I shall be able
to reconcile you; but that shall be the token of her favour, if she gives
us the ring which she has in her hand.’ Then the earl took much silver,
and laid it on her footstool before her, and again he flung himself before
her, and Sigmund noticed that he wept profusely. And when he stood up he
took the ring, and she let go of it. Then the earl gave it to Sigmund and
said: ‘I give thee this ring to thy weal; never part with it;’ and Sigmund
promised he would not.”
‘This ring occasions the death of the Faroese chief. In after years King
Olaf, who converts him to Christianity, knowing that this gold ring is a
relic of paganism, asks Sigmund to give it to him: the chief refuses, and
the king angrily pronounces a warning that it will be the cause of his
death. And his word falls true, for Sigmund is murdered in his sleep for
the sake of the ring.’
There was no limit to the credulity of believers in the mystic in the
middle and even in later ages. Sir Walter Scott, in his ‘Demonology and
Witchcraft,’ remarks that the early dabblers in astrology and chemistry,
although denying the use of all necromancy–that is, unlawful or black
magic–pretended always to a correspondence with the various spirits of
the elements, on the principle of the Rosicrucian philosophy. They
affirmed that they could bind to their service, and imprison in a ring, a
mirror, or a stone, some fairy sylph or salamander, and compel it to
appear when called, and render answers to such questions as the viewer
should propose.’[34]
In the reign of Henry VIII. (1533) Jones, the famous, or rather infamous,
‘Oxford Conjurer,’ told his dupe, Sir William Neville, that amongst other
marvels he could make rings of gold which would ensure the favour of great
men to those who wore them. He said ‘that my lord cardinal (Wolsey) had
such,’ and he promised one to Sir William and his brother.[35]
It is not a little curious that Henry VIII. himself, the despoiler of
monasteries, and, to a certain extent, the uprooter of many superstitious
practices, placed such faith in the traditional virtues of a jewel that
had for ages decked the shrine of Thomas à Becket at Canterbury that he
caused it to be placed in a ring, which he constantly wore afterwards, in
the manner of those times, on his enormous thumb. The last time that this
jewel appears in history is among the ‘diamonds’ of the golden collar of
his daughter Queen Mary, who, although a bigoted Roman Catholic, did not
scruple to wear the spoils of a shrine. This jewel was called the ‘royal
of France’ having been presented to the shrine of the murdered Archbishop
by King Louis VII. in 1179.[36]
Religious charms were of exhaustless variety. In the Braybrooke Collection
is a bone charm-ring, surmounted by a circular signet, on which is
engraved the crucifix, with our Saviour upon it, and the two Maries
standing on either side of the stem: round the edge of the signet is the
inscription ‘In hoc signo vinces,’ headed with a small cross.
In the ‘Journal of the Archæological Institute’ (vol. iii. p. 358) is an
account of a curious magical ring, found on the coast of Glamorganshire,
near to the ‘Worm’s Head,’ the western extremity of the county, where
numerous objects have been found at various times on the shifting of the
sand, such as fire-arms, an astrolabe, and silver dollars. This ring is of
gold, much bent and defaced, and inscribed with mystic words both inside
and outside the hoop.
‘The talismanic character of these mysterious words seems to be
sufficiently proved by comparison with the physical charms given in an
English medical MS., preserved at Stockholm, and published by the Society
of Antiquaries. Amongst various cabalistic prescriptions is found one “for
peynys in theth…. Boro berto briore + vulnera quinque dei sint medecina
mei + Tahebal + ghether (or guthman) + + + Onthman,” &c. The last word
should probably be read Guthman, and it is succeeded by five crosses,
probably in allusion to the five wounds of the Saviour.’ It is supposed
that this ring and the other remains alluded to indicate the spot where a
Spanish or Portuguese vessel was wrecked about two hundred years ago.
The following engraving, from the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iii. p.
267), represents another cabalistic ring, found in Worcestershire, and the
property of Mr. Jabez Allies. It is of base metal, plated with gold, and
is, apparently, of the fourteenth century.
In the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. v. p. 159) is an engraving and
description of a curious talismanic ring, with an inscription showing
stronger evidence of oriental origin than any heretofore noticed, the
Greek letters _theta_ and _gamma_ occurring twice in the legend. The
discovery of this relic, which is of gold, weighing 56 grains, was
singular. It was found in digging up the roots of an old oak-tree which
had been blown down by a violent wind in 1846, on a farm called the
‘Rookery,’ in the parish of Calne, Wiltshire, belonging to Mr. Thomas
Poynder, who thinks that the spot where the ring was found was in the
track of the fugitive Royalists, after the battle at Rounday Hill, near
Devizes, on their retreat towards Oxford, where the King’s head-quarters
were stated to be at that time. This curious ring is divided into eight
compartments, with a row of three little rounded points, or studs, between
each. The hoop is bent irregularly, so that the inner circle presents
seven straight sides, but the angles thus formed do not correspond
precisely with the external divisions.
A talismanic ring of gold found in Coventry Park in 1802, represents in
the centre device Christ rising from the sepulchre, and in the background
are shown the hammer, sponge, and other emblems of the Passion. On the
left is figured the wound at the side, with an inscription ‘the well of
ewerlastingh lyffe.’ In the next compartment, two smaller wounds, with
‘the well of confort,’ ‘the well of gracy,’ and afterwards two other
wounds inscribed ‘the well of pitty,’ ‘the well of merci.’
From some small remains it is evident that the figure of our Saviour, with
all the inscriptions, had been filled with _black_ enamel, whilst the
wounds and drops of blood issuing from them were appropriately
distinguished by _red_. On the inside of the ring is the following
inscription: ‘Wulnera quinq’ dei sunt medecina mei, pia crux et passio
x̄pi sunt medecina michi, Jaspar, Melchior, Baltasar, ananyzapta
tetragrammaton.’
In the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xviii.) it is stated that Sir Edward Shaw,
goldsmith and alderman of London, by his will (_circâ_ 1487), directed to
be made sixteen rings of ‘fyne gold, to be graven with the well of pitie,
the well of mercie, and the well of everlasting life.’
It is, perhaps, impossible now to explain the import of the legends which
occur on certain mediæval rings, and devices which are probably, in many
cases, anagrammatic, and the original orthography of the legend corrupted
and changed in others; but they, no doubt, had a talismanic meaning. A
gold ring found in Rockingham Forest in 1841 has inscribed on the outer
side, _guttv_: _gutta_: _madros_: _adros_; and in the inner side, _vdros_:
_udros_: _thebal_. A thin gold ring discovered in a garden at Newark in
1741 was inscribed with the words _Agla_: _Thalcvt_: _Calcvt_: _Cattama_.
The mystic word, or anagram, _Agla_ is engraved on the inner side of a
silver ring (of the fourteenth century) found in 1846 on the site of the
cemetery of St. Owen’s, which stood on the west site of Gloucester, a
little without the south gate, and was destroyed during the siege of 1643.
On the outside of the ring is engraved + AVE MARIA, and within appear the
letters AGLA, with the symbol of the cross between each letter. The weight
of the ring is 20 grs. The term Agla designated in the East a wand of
dignity or office, and may possibly have been used in connection with
magical or alchemical operations.
There is a notice of a curious magical ring against leprosy in the
‘Archæologia’ (vol. xxi. p. 25, 120). In the Londesborough Collection is a
‘religious,’ or ‘superstitious’ ring of silver, the workmanship of which
dates it at the end of the fifteenth century, and which is supposed to
have been worn as a charm against St. Vitus’s dance. To a circular plate
are attached three large bosses, and, between each, two smaller bosses,
all the nine of which are hollow, and were filled, apparently, by some
resinous substance. On the three larger bosses are engraved the letters S.
M. V. (Sancta Maria Virgo) in relief.
In the same collection is a gold ring of the same century, the face
engraved with St. Christopher bearing the infant Saviour, worn as a charm
against sudden death, more particularly by drowning.
It is very delicately engraved. The circle is formed by ten lozenges, each
of which bears a letter of the inscription, ‘de boen cuer.’
Sir John Woodford is in possession of a gold ring found on the field of
Azincourt, which bears the inscription BURO. BERTO. BERIORA. These mystic
words occur likewise in the charm against tooth-ache given in the
Stockholm MS. (‘Archæological Journal,’ vol. iv. p. 78).
A thumb-ring was discovered a few years since in the coffin of an
ecclesiastic, in Chichester Cathedral, set with an Abraxas gem,[37] an
agate; the deceased churchman, it may be well believed, had worn it
guiltless of all knowledge of Alexandrine pantheism. The ring was of gold,
and was found on the right-hand thumb-bone of a skeleton, the supposed
remains of Seffrid, Bishop of Chichester, A.D. 1125.
A very large ring, bearing great resemblance to the episcopal ring, was
occasionally worn as a thumb-ring by the laity. In the Londesborough
Collection is a fine specimen. It is somewhat roughly formed of mixed
metal, and has upon the circular face a conventional representation of a
monkey looking at himself in a hand-mirror. This is surrounded by a
cable-moulding, and on each side is set two large stones. The outer edge
of this ring is also decorated with a heavy cable-moulding; inside, next
the figure, is the cross and sacred monogram, placed on each side of the
mystic word _anamzapta_, showing it to be a charm-ring.
Another mystical ring in the same collection is inscribed, on an oval
boss, hETh; the workmanship, probably English, of about the fifteenth
century. This ring was bought at Ely. _Heth_ was the sacred name of
Jehovah. Dr. Dee and similar Gnostics composed several mystical
arrangements founded on these four letters.
The Londesborough Collection has also a massive thumb-ring, having the
tooth of some animal as its principal gem, supposed to have mystic power
over its possessor. It is set all around with precious stones to ensure
its potency.
The last leaf of the ‘Theophilus’ MS. of the fourteenth century has:
‘Against the falling sickness, write these characters upon a ring;
outside, + ou. thebal gut guthani; inside, + eri gerari.’
A ring that had belonged to Remigius, being dipped in holy water,
furnished, it is said, a good drink for fever and other diseases.
The sacred names of ‘Jesus,’ ‘Maria,’ and ‘Joseph’ were formerly inscribed
on rings, and worn as preservatives against the plague. Rings simply made
of gold were supposed to cure St. Antony’s fire, but if inscribed with
magical words their effect was irresistible.
A representation is annexed of an amulet ring found near Oxford, about
1805, bearing an inscription SCA. BAR., Sancta Barbara. The legend of St.
Barbara calls her a patroness against storms and lightning.
The following engraving represents an amulet wedding-ring, conjectured to
be the figure of St. Catherine with her wheel, being an emblem of good
fortune; the other being probably, St. Margaret (with the church), an
emblem of her faith, wisdom, constancy, and fortitude: time of Richard II.
Rings in which pieces of what was asserted to be the ‘true cross’ were
placed are sometimes met with in old writings. St. Gregory states that his
sister wore one of this kind. That this belief was not always credited is
seen in the case of an exchange of rings between a bishop and an abbot in
the annals of St. Alban’s Abbey. This occurred in the reign of Richard
II., when the Bishop of Lincoln (Beaufort) gave his to John, fifth abbot
of St. Alban’s, for one containing a piece of the true cross, and was
therefore earnestly prized and begged for by the bishop. Whether the
prelate had his misgivings as to the alleged sanctity of the splinter, or
considered the garniture of the ring too plain, he very soon after
informed the abbot that his own ring was the most valuable of the two, and
the difference in value must be paid to him in money. In his zeal for his
material interests the bishop overlooked the assurances of friendship
which the exchange conveyed, and the abbot was obliged to give him five
pounds.
Relics of martyrs and saints were frequently inserted in rings: in the
Londesborough Collection is a silver reliquary, probably intended for the
thumb. It has a heart engraved on a lozenge, the reliquary being enclosed
beneath. It was found in the ruins of the abbey of St. Bertin, at St.
Omer.
In the possession of Lady Fitz Hardinge is a remarkable reliquary ring, of
admirable workmanship, probably of the tenth century, perhaps Anglo-Saxon,
but possibly of Irish (Celtic) origin. It is of gold with very large
expanded bezel, cruciform or quatrefoil, 1⅞ in. wide. In the centre is a
raised boss, intended, possibly, to contain a relic, as the ring is, no
doubt, ecclesiastical; from this radiates four monsters’ heads, similar to
those on early Irish work, marked with thin lines of niello, the eyes
formed of dots of dark glass pastes, the whole edged with fine corded
ornament.
In the collection of Mr. R. H. Soden Smith is a reliquary gold ring,
having suspended on the bezel side a small gold relic-case, chased with
two crosses, and edged with beaded work of the twelfth century.
Mr. Fairholt describes a curious Venetian ring, the bezel formed like a
box to contain relics. The face of the ring has a representation of St.
Mark seated, holding his gospel and giving a benediction. The spaces
between this figure and the oval border are perforated, so that the
interior of the box is visible, and the relic enshrined might be seen.
Liceti, a Genoese physician of the seventeenth century, who wrote a book
on rings, ascribed the want of virtue in medicated rings to their small
size, observing that the larger the ring or the gem contained in it, the
greater was the effect. He endeavoured to prove that the Philistines, when
they were punished for touching the ark of Israel, wore rings on their
fingers with the image of the disease engraved on them by way of
expiation.
The names of the Three Kings of Cologne constituted a popular charm
against diseases and evil influences in the Middle Ages. The late Crofton
Croker, in his description of the rings in the Londesborough Collection,
mentions one dating from the fourteenth, or early in the fifteenth
century, engraved outside with these names: Gasper: Melchior: Baltazar:
in. God. is. a. r.–the latter words, probably, implying ‘in God is a
remedy.’ The three Kings were supposed to be the Wise Men (according to
the legend, three Kings of Arabia) who made offerings to our Saviour.
Their bodies travelled first to Constantinople, thence to Milan, and,
lastly, to Cologne, by various removals.[38] These three potent names
have continued as a charm even to a late period; for, in January 1748-9,
one William Jackson, a Roman Catholic, and a proscribed smuggler, being
sentenced to death at Chichester, had a purse taken from his person,
containing the following scrap:–
Sancti tres Reges,
Gaspar, Melchior, Baltasar,
Orate pro nobis nunc et in hora
Mortis nostræ.
The paper on which this invocation was written had touched the heads of
the Three Kings at Cologne.
In ‘Reynard the Fox,’ the hero of that satirical work, describing the
treasure he pretends to have discovered for the sole benefit of his royal
master and mistress, says: ‘Oon of them was a rynge of fyne gold, and
within the rynge next the fyngre were wreton lettres enameld wyth sable
and asure, and there were three Hebrew names therein, y coude not myself
rede ne spelle them, for I onderstand not that language, but mayster
Abryon of Tryers, he is a wise man, he onderstandeth wel al maner of
langages, and the virtue of al maner of herbes. And yet he byleveth not in
God, he is a Jewe, the wysest in conynge, and specyally he knoweth the
virtue of stones. I shewed him thys ryng, he sayd that they were the thre
names that Seth brought out of Paradys, when he brought to his fader Adam
the oyle of mercy. And whomsoever bereth on hym thyse thre names, he shal
never be hurte by throndre ne by lyghtning, ne no wytchcraft shal have no
power over hym, ne be tempted to doo synne; and also he shall never take
harme by colde though he laye thre wynters long nyghtes in the felde
though it snowed, stormed, or froze never soo sore, so grete myghte have
these wordes.’
The stone set in the ring and its wonderful properties are then
enumerated, and the conclusion is: ‘I thought in myself that I was not
able ne worthy to bere it, and therefore I sent it to my dere lord, the
Kyng, for I knew hym for the moost noble that now lyveth, and also all our
welfare and worship lyeth on hym, and for he shold be kepte fro al drede,
nede, and ungeluck.’
While the names of saints were employed for the prevention or relief of
bodily ailments, those of ‘devils’ were made the agency for criminal
objects; thus we read in Monstrelet’s ‘Chronicles,’ that in the plea of
justification made by the Duke of Burgundy for the assassination of Louis,
Duke of Orleans, in 1407, he accused the latter of having conspired
against the King of France by means of sorcery. Among other things a ring
was made use of ‘in the name of devils.’ A monk undertook this ‘who
performed many superstitious acts near a bush, with invocations to the
devil.’ Two evil spirits appeared to him in the shape of two men, one of
whom took the ring, which had been placed on the ground, and vanished.
After half an hour he returned, and gave the ring to the monk, ‘which to
the sight was the colour of red, nearly scarlet,’ and said to him: ‘Thou
wilt put it into the mouth of a dead man in the manner thou knowest,’ and
then vanished. The monk obeyed these instructions ‘thinking to burn the
lord our King.’
Mr. Fairholt describes a mechanical ring, of mystic signification, as one
of the most curious rings in the Londesborough Collection. The outside of
the hoop is perfectly plain, and is set with a ruby and amethyst. Upon
pressing these stones a spring opens, and discovers the surface covered
with magical signs and names of spirits; among them Asmodiel, Nachiel, and
Zamiel occur, a similar series occupying the interior of the hoop. Such a
ring might be worn without suspicion of its true import, looking
simplicity itself, but fraught with unholy meaning. It was, probably,
constructed for some German mystic philosopher, at a time when students
like Faust devoted themselves and their fortune to occult sciences,
believing in the philosopher’s stone, the elixir of life, and the power
given to man to control the unseen world of spirits.
Among the charges brought against Joan of Arc were that she had charmed
rings to secure victory over her enemies.
The ancient physicians and empirics employed numerous charms for the cure
of diseases, and the practice was common among the medical professors of
the middle and lower Roman empire. Marcellus, a physician who lived in the
reign of Marcus Aurelius, directs the patient who is afflicted with a pain
in the side to wear a ring of pure gold, inscribed with some Greek
letters, on a Thursday, at the decrease of the moon. It was to be worn on
the right hand if the pain was on the left side, and _vice versâ_.
Trallian, another physician, living in the fourth century, cured the colic
and all bilious complaints by means of an octangular ring of iron, on
which eight words were to be engraved, commanding the bile to take
possession of a lark! A magic diagram was to be added. He tells us that he
had great experience in this remedy, and had considered it extremely
foolish to omit recording so valuable a treasure, but he particularly
enjoined keeping it a secret from the profane vulgar, according to an
admonition of Hippocrates, that sacred things are for sacred persons only.
He recommends also a cure for the stone by wearing a copper ring with the
figure of a lion, a crescent, and a star, to be placed on the fourth
finger; and for the colic in general a ring with Hercules strangling the
Nemæan lion.
Michaelis, a physician of Leipsic, had a ring made of a sea-horse’s tooth,
which he applied to all diseases indiscriminately,[39] but jasper was the
favourite substance employed when a particular disorder was in question.
Galen mentions a green jasper amulet belonging to the Egyptian King
Nechepsus, who lived 630 years before the Christian era. It was cut in the
form of a dragon surrounded with rays, and worn to strengthen the organs
of digestion.
The numerous magical properties of the jasper made it a favourite among
the Gnostic or Basilidian gems.
At a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries in March 1875 Mr. Robert
Ferguson, M.P., &c., exhibited among other rings, one of yellow metal,
with Anglo-Saxon runes;[40] diameter 1-1/10 inch. It bears an inscription
similar to the Cumberland specimen now in the British Museum. The ring is
said to have belonged to a Major Macdonald, in 1745, and was obtained by
Mr. Ferguson from his descendant. Mr. Ferguson has since presented this
ring to the British Museum.
A somewhat similar ring, the property of the Earl of Aberdeen, is
described in the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. xxi. p. 256) bearing the
Runic inscription, ‘whether in fever or leprosy, the patient be happy and
confident in the hope of recovery.’
The accompanying illustration represents a Dano-Saxon ring worn as a charm
against the plague, and bearing an inscription thus rendered:–
Raise us from dust we pray to thee;
From pestilence O set us free,
Although the grave unwilling be.
At the proceedings of the Royal Society of Antiquaries at Copenhagen, in
1838, a gold ring with a Runic inscription, found in Fionia, was
exhibited. The words _röd eg lagd álaga_ may be rendered ‘I guide the
chain of destiny,’ and show that its Scandinavian possessor considered it
an amulet.
Rings of lead, mixed with quicksilver, were used against headaches and
other complaints.
In the ‘Récueil des Historiens de France’ we read that Passavant, Bishop
of Mans, possessed a ring which had belonged to Gulpherius de Lastour,
during the Crusades, which was very precious, and cured a great number of
sick persons.
A gold ring of the fourteenth century, in the Londesborough Collection,
has an inscription which, freely translated, is ‘May you be preserved from
the evil eye!’
In the Shrewsbury Museum is a small iron ring, with an intaglio
representing a fawn springing out of a nautilus-shell. It was discovered
at Wroxeter. This and similar devices the Rev. C. W. King ascribes as
probable charms against the ‘evil eye.’
This superstition still prevails extensively in the East, and is also
entertained in many parts of Europe. That it was well known to Romans we
have the authority of Virgil: ‘Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat
agnos’ (_Ecl._ iii.).
The following engraving (from the Collection Chabouillet) represents a
Greek amulet ring, adopted by the Etruscans and Romans, and which offers,
by the stone and setting, the figure of an eye. These rings were movable,
and turned on the axis.
The great preservative against this was the wearing of a ring, with the
figure of a cockatrice, supposed to proceed from a cock’s egg under
various planetary and talismanic influences. The Londesborough thumb-ring
has two cockatrices cut in high relief upon an agate.
The deadly power of the cockatrice is alluded to by Shakspeare in ‘Twelfth
Night’ and in ‘Romeo and Juliet’–
Say thou but _I_,
And that base vowel _I_ shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
So Dryden says:–
Mischiefs are like the cockatrice’s eye;
If they see first, they kill; if seen, they die–
alluding to the counter-action, that if the creature was seen by a person
first, without being perceived by it, the cockatrice died from the effect
of the human eye. The figure of the bird merely gave security against the
evil eye; it had no other effect, and for this purpose various engraved
stones were used. Thus a ring in the Londesborough Collection has in its
centre a Gnostic gem with cabalistic figures, believed able to avert the
dreadful glance.
In the same collection is a massive thumb-ring, having the tooth of some
animal as its principal gem, supposed to have mystic power over the
fortunes of its possessor. It is set all round with precious stones of
talismanic virtues.
A dove, with a branch of olive in its mouth, engraved in pyrites, and
mounted in a silver ring, ensured the wearer the utmost hospitality
wherever he went, possessing the power of fascination. A fair head, well
combed, with a handsome face, engraved on a gem, secured joy, reverence,
and honour.
Rings made of the bones of an ostrich were assumed to be of rare virtue.
Annexed is a representation of a silver charm-ring in the South Kensington
Museum; the hoop is spirally fluted, widening towards the bezel, which is
set with a tooth; the shoulder of the ring is pierced in floriated German
work of the eighteenth century.
In the Waterton Collection are several rings of hoof–probably that of an
ass–enclosed in gold, and considered a remedy for epilepsy. From Cardan
(de Venenis) we learn, among other means for a physician to find out
whether a patient is ‘fascinated,’ that of a ring made of the hoof of an
ass, put on his finger, growing too large for him after a few days’
wearing. It seems that among the Indians and Norwegians the hoof of the
elk is regarded as a sovereign cure for the same malady. The person
afflicted applies it to his heart, holding it in his left hand, and
rubbing his ear with it.
Brand, in his ‘Popular Antiquities,’ states that in Berkshire a ring made
from a piece of silver collected at the Communion is supposed to be a cure
for convulsions and fits of every kind. If collected on Easter Sunday its
efficacy is greatly increased. Silver is not considered necessary in
Devonshire, where a ring is preferred made out of three nails or screws
that have been used to fasten a coffin, and that have been dug out of the
churchyard. It is curious to notice that, according to Pliny, the ancients
believed that a nail drawn out of a sepulchre and placed on the threshold
of a bed-chamber door would drive away phantoms in the night.
In Lucian’s ‘Philopseudes’ one of the interlocutors states ‘that since an
Arabian had presented him with a ring made of iron taken from the gallows,
together with a written charm, he had ceased to be afraid of the
demoniacs, who had been healed by a Syrian in Palestine.’
In the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for 1794 we are told that a silver ring will
cure fits when it is made from five sixpences collected from as many
bachelors, to be conveyed by the hands of a bachelor to a smith that is a
bachelor. None of the persons who gave the sixpences were to know for what
purpose, or to whom they gave them. The ‘London Medical and Physical
Journal’ for 1815 notices a charm _successfully_ employed in the cure of
epilepsy, after the failure of various medical means. It consisted of a
silver ring contributed by twelve young women, and was to be constantly
worn on one of the fingers of the patient.
In ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. i. 2nd series, p. 331) we find a
Gloucestershire ring prescription for epilepsy, which shows the
persistence of credulity even in the present enlightened period. ‘The
curate of Hasfield, going into the house of a parishioner whose daughter
was afflicted with epileptic fits, was accosted by the mother of the
damsel in a most joyous tone: “Oh! sir, Emma has got her ring.” The good
curate, fearing that the poor girl might have stooped to folly, and that
this was an intimation that her swain intended to make an honest woman of
her, sought an explanation, which was afforded in the following
prescription:–“Why, you see, sir, our Emma has been long troubled with
the fits, and she went to the church door, and asked a penny from every
unmarried man that went in, till she got twenty-four. She then took them
to a silversmith in Gloucester, who promised to get them changed for
‘Sacrament’ money (which he said he could easily do, as he knew one of the
cathedral clergy). And with that money, sir, he made her a silver ring,
and Emma is wearing it, and has not had a fit since.”’
In Somersetshire it is a popular belief that the ring-finger, stroked
along any sore or wound, will soon heal it. All the other fingers would
poison the finger instead of healing it. It is still an article of belief
in some persons that there is virtue enough in a gold ring to remove a
stye from the eye, if it be rubbed with it.
Although silver appears to be the happy medium chiefly in these wonderful
cures, yet we are told that Paracelsus had a ring made of a variety of
metallic substances, which he called electrum, and which not only cured
epilepsy, but almost every other complaint.
At the meeting of the ‘Society of Antiquaries’ (June 12, 1873) a very
interesting collection of so-called Tau (T) rings were exhibited by
Octavius Morgan, Esq., F.R.S., F.S.A. These, bearing the mystical emblem
of the T (tau), are by no means of frequent occurrence, and it is not
likely that so many were ever brought together before. The tau was early
esteemed a sacred symbol, and was considered to be the mark placed on the
forehead, as mentioned in the Bible. ‘I have,’ remarks Mr. Morgan, ‘in my
collection a champlevé enamel of the thirteenth century, where the “man in
the linen garment,” as mentioned in Ezekiel ix., is represented marking
the T on the forehead of the faithful children of Israel. A mystical
virtue was attached to this T, and, in company with the word
ANANIZAPTA–which, being faithfully translated from the Chaldee, according
to the Rev. C. W. King, means, “Have mercy on us, O Judge”–was thought a
most powerful prophylactic against epilepsy.’
A description of these curious rings will be found in the ‘Proceedings of
the Society’ (vol. vi. No. 1, pp. 51, 53).
A toadstone ring (the fossil palatal tooth of a species of Ray) was
supposed to protect new-born children and their mothers from the power of
the fairies; and this continued a late-day superstition, for Joanna
Baillie, in a letter to Sir Walter Scott, mentions one having been
repeatedly borrowed from her mother for that purpose. It was believed also
to be a specific in cases of diseased kidney, when immersed in water which
was drunk by the patient.
In the inventory of the Duke de Berry is mentioned ‘une crapaudine assize
en un annel d’or;’ also, in the inventory of the Duke of Burgundy, we find
‘deux crapaudines, l’une en ung anneau d’or, l’autre en ung anneau
d’argent.’ These were highly esteemed for their magical properties, as I
have remarked, and were probably also worn to prevent the administration
of poison, being supposed to indicate its presence by perspiring and
changing colour. Fenton, who wrote in 1569, says, ‘Being used in rings
they give forewarning of venom.’ In Ben Jonson’s ‘Fox’ (ii. 5) it is thus
alluded to:–
Were you enamoured on his copper rings,
His saffron jewel, with the toadstone in’t?
Lupton, in his ‘Thousand Notable Things,’ says that the stone (which,
according to Fenton, was most commonly found in the head of a he-toad) was
not easily attained, for the toad ‘envieth so much that man should have
that stone. To know whether the stone called _crapaudina_ be the right or
perfect stone or not, hold the stone before a toad so that he may see it,
and, if it be a right and true stone, the toad will leap towards it, and
make as though he would snatch it from you.’
An ingenious method of obtaining the stone is given by the same writer:
‘Put a great or overgrown toad (first bruised in divers places) into an
earthen pot; put the same into an ant’s hillock, and cover the same with
earth, which toad at length the ants will eat, so that the bones of the
toad and stone will be left in the pot.’ A mediæval author, however,
states that the stone should be obtained while the toad is living, and
this may be done by simply placing upon him a piece of scarlet cloth,
‘wherewithal they are much delighted, so that, while they stretch out
themselves as it were in sport upon that cloth, they cast out the stone of
their head, but instantly they sup it up again, unless it be taken from
them through some secret hole in the same cloth.’
The scarlet, however did not always perform this miracle, for Boethius
relates how he watched a whole night an old toad he had laid on a red
cloth to see him cast forth the stone, but the toad was stubborn, and left
him nothing to ‘gratify the great pangs of his whole night’s
restlessness.’
The Londesborough Collection contains two remarkable specimens of rings
connected with toad superstition, thus described by Mr. Fairholt: ‘The
first is of mixed metal, gilt, having upon it the figure of a toad
swallowing a serpent. There is a mediæval story of a necromancer
introducing himself to another professor of magic by showing him a
serpent-ring, upon which the latter, who did not desire anyone to
interfere with his practice, produced his toadstone ring, observing that
the toad might swallow the serpent, thereby intimating his power to
overcome him. The second ring is curious, not only as containing the true
toad-stone, but the stone is embossed with the figure of a toad, according
to the description of Albertus Magnus, who describes the most valuable
variety of this coveted gem as having the figure of the reptile engraved
on it.’
Prætorius mentions that a member of the German house of Alveschleben
received a ring from a ‘Nixe’ to which the future fortunes of his line
were to be attached.
The turquoise ring of Shylock, which he would not have given for a
‘wilderness of monkeys’ (‘Merchant of Venice,’ scene i.), was probably
more esteemed for its secret virtues than from any commercial value, the
turquoise, turkise, or turkey-stone having, from remote periods, been
supposed to possess talismanic properties. Fenton, in his ‘Secret Wonders
of Nature’ (1569), thus describes the stone: ‘The turkeys doth move when
there is any peril prepared to him that weareth it.’
Dr. Donne alludes to
A compassionate turquoise, that doth tell,
By looking pale, the wearer is not well.
Among the virtues of the turquoise is one which would spare us the shame
of a divorce-court, as it was believed to take away all enmity, and to
reconcile man and wife. Holinshed, speaking of the death of King John,
says: ‘And when the king suspected them (the pears) to be poisoned indeed,
by reason of such precious stones as he had about him cast forth a certain
_sweat_, as it were bewraeing the poison, &c.’ The turquoise was a
supposed monitor of poison from this circumstance.
‘With the Germans the turquoise is still the gem appropriated to the ring,
the “gage d’amour,” presented by the lover on the acceptance of his suit,
the permanence of its colour being believed to depend upon the constancy
of his affection. Inasmuch as this stone is almost as liable to change,
and as capriciously as the heart itself, the omen it gives is verified
with sufficient frequency to maintain its reputation for infallibility’
(The Rev. C. W. King, on ‘Precious Stones,’ &c.).
Camillus Leonardus, in the ‘Mirror of Stones,’ describes the _carbuncle_
as ‘brandishing its fiery rays on every side, and in the dark appearing
like a fiery coal. It is esteemed the first among burning gems.’
The ancients supposed this stone to give out a native light without
reflection, and they ranked it fifth in order, after diamonds, emeralds,
opals, and pearls. The virtue of the carbuncle was to drive away poisonous
air, repress luxury, and preserve the health of the body. The wonderful
light emitted from the stone is one of the most prolific resources of
romance among old writers.
Shakspeare alludes to the superstition in ‘Titus Andronicus’ (Act ii. sc.
4).
_Martius._ Lord Bassianus lies embruèd here
All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
_Quintus._ If it be dark, how dost thou know ’tis he?
_Martius._ Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring that lightens all the hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks,
And shows the rugged entrails of the pit.
Ben Jonson and Drayton also refer to the same superstition.
The change of colours[41] in stones, portent of evil, was a deep-set
superstition in most parts of the world. In the Scotch ballad of ‘Hynd
Horn’ we find:–
And she gave to me a gay gold ring
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
With three shining diamonds set therein,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
What if these diamonds lose their hue,
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
Just when my love begins for to rew,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
For when your ring turns pale and wan
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
Then I’m in love with another man,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
Seven long years he has been on the sea,
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
And Hynd Horn has looked how his ring may be,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
But when he looked this ring upon,
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
The shining diamonds were pale and wan,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
Oh! the ring it was both black and blue,
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
And she’s either dead or she’s married,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
A curious passage occurs in a letter addressed by Lord Chancellor Hatton
to Sir Thomas Smith, preserved among the Harleian MSS., relating to an
epidemic then prevailing: ‘I am likewise bold to commend my humble duty to
our dear mistress (Queen Elizabeth) by this letter and ring, which hath
the virtue to expel infectious airs, and is (as it letteth me) to be worn
between the sweet duggs, the chaste nest of pure constancy (!). I trust,
sir, when the virtue is known it shall not be refused for the value.’
‘Medijcinable’ rings for the cure of the falling sickness and the cramp
are mentioned in the Household Books of Henry IV. and Edward IV.; the
metal they were composed of was what formed the King’s offering to the
Cross on Good Friday, that day being appointed for the blessing of the
rings.
The following entry occurs in the account of the seventh and eighth years
of Henry IV. (1406). ‘In oblacionibus domini regis factis adorando crucem
in capella infra manerium suum de Eltham, die parasceves, in precio trium
nobilium auri, et v. solidorum sterlyng, xxv. s.’
‘In denariis solutis pro eisdem oblacionibus reassumptis, pro annulis
medicinalibus inde faciendis, xxv. s.’
A ring considered to possess some healing or talismanic virtues was also
termed, in mediæval Latin, _vertuosus_. Thus Thomas de Hoton, rector of
Kyrkebymisperton, 1351, bequeathed to his chaplain ‘j. zonam de serico, j.
bonam bursam, j. firmaculum, et j. anulum vertuosum. Item, domino Thome de
Bouthum, j. par de bedes de corall, j. annulum vertuosum.’
Andrew Boorde, who lived in the reign of Henry VIII., alluding to the
cramp-rings, says, in his ‘Introduction to Knowledge,’ the ‘Kynges of
England doth halow every yere crampe rynges, ye whych rynges worn on one’s
finger doth helpe them whych have the crampe.’ And, again, in his
‘Breviary of Health’ (1557), he writes: ‘The kynge’s majesty hath a great
helpe in this matter in halowynge crampe rings, and so given without money
or petition, ye which rynges worne on one’s finger doth helpe them,’ &c.
This ceremonial was practised by previous sovereigns. Hospinian gives an
account of the proceedings, and states that they took place on Good
Friday, and originated from the famous ‘pilgrim’ ring of King Edward the
Confessor. According to tradition the sapphire in the British crown came
from this ring, the possession of which gave English sovereigns the power
of procuring an efficacious blessing to the cramp-rings. Gardiner, in
1529, received a number of cramp-rings to distribute among the English
embassage to the Pope, ‘the royal fingers pouring such virtue into the
metal that no disorder could resist it.’[42]
The superstitious belief in the efficacy of cramp-rings was by no means,
as we have seen, confined to the ignorant and uneducated classes; even
Lord Berners, ambassador to the Emperor Charles V., writing to ‘my Lord
Chancellor’s Grace’ from Saragossa (June 30, 1518), says, ‘If your Grace
remember me with some crampe-ryngs, ye shall doe a thing muche looked for,
and I trust to bestowe theym well, with Goddes grace, who evermore
preserve and increase your most reverent estate.’
The late Cardinal Wiseman (‘Notes and Queries,’ vol. vii., 1st series, p.
89) had in his possession a manuscript containing both the ceremony for
the blessing of the cramp-rings, and that for the touching for the King’s
evil. At the commencement of the manuscript are emblazoned the arms of
Philip and Mary. The first ceremony is headed ‘Certain Prayers to be used
by the Quene’s Heignes in the Consecration of the Crampe-rynges.’
Accompanying it is an illumination, representing the queen kneeling, with
a dish containing the rings to be blessed on each side of her. The second
Ceremony is entitled ‘The ceremonye for ye Heling of them that be diseased
with the Kynge’s Evill.’ This manuscript was exhibited at a meeting of the
Archæological Institute, June 6, 1851.
In Burnet (vol. ii. p. 266 of ‘Records’) there is the whole Latin formula
of the consecration of the cramp-rings. It commences with the psalm ‘Deus
misereatur nostri.’ Then follows a prayer invoking the aid of the Holy
Spirit: the rings then lying in one basin or more, a prayer was said over
them, from which we learn that the rings were made of metal, and were to
expel all living venom of serpents. The rings were then blessed with an
invocation to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and signed frequently
with the cross. In the last benediction the prayer is made ‘that the rings
may restore contracted nerves.’ A psalm of benediction follows, and a
prayer against the frauds of devils. ‘The Queen’s Highness then rubbeth
the rings between her hands, saying the prayer implying that as her hands
rub the rings, the virtue of the holy oil wherewith she was anointed might
be infused into their metal, and, by the grace of God, might be
efficacious.’ The remainder of the curious ceremony concluded with holy
water being poured into the basin with further prayers. This ceremonial
was practised by previous sovereigns, and discontinued by Edward VI. Queen
Mary intended to revive it, and, in all probability, did so, from the
manuscript to which I have alluded as having belonged to the late Cardinal
Wiseman.[43]
The annexed cut represents a cramp-ring of lead, simply cast in a mould,
and sold cheap for the use of the commonalty. It belongs to the fourteenth
century.
A curious remnant or corruption of the use of cramp-rings at the present
time is noticed by Mr. Rokewode, who says that in Suffolk the use of
cramp-rings as a preventive against fits is not entirely abandoned:
‘Instances occur where young men of a parish each subscribe a crooked
sixpence to be moulded into a ring for a young woman afflicted with that
malady.’
The use of galvanic rings for the cure of rheumatism belongs to our own
time, and is by no means extinct; however, we have no right to class this
practice among our superstitions. After all, faith works wonders!
Particular rings were worn on certain days from superstitious motives;
thus in the inventory of Charles V., in 1379, a ring with a cameo
representing a Christian subject is thus described:–‘annel des vendredis,
lequel est néellé et y est la croix double noire de chacun costé, où il y
a ung crucifix d’un camayeux, Saint Jean et Notre-Dame, et deux angeloz
sur les bras de la croix, et le porte le roy continuellement les
vendredis.’
Evil portents with regard to rings prevailed in the reign of Elizabeth.
The queen’s coronation-ring, which she had worn constantly since her
inauguration, having grown into her finger, necessitated the ring being
filed off, and this was regarded as an unfavourable augury by many, who,
doubtless, attributed any untoward event that occurred at this period to
an omen. Few were more credulous in such matters than the strong-minded
(in most respects) queen herself, who was a firm believer in the still
popular superstition of ‘good luck.’
Long after this period, however, there were not wanting believers in the
supernatural efficacy of charmed rings; there was even a charge against
the Puritans of having contributed to foster the popular delusion. In the
‘Scourge,’ a series of weekly papers which appeared between 1717 and 1718,
alluding to May 29, the writer says of the Roundheads: ‘Yet these priests
of Baal had so poisoned the minds of the populace with such delusive
enchantments that from rings, bodkins, and thimbles, like the Israelitish
calf of gold, would start up a troop of horse to reinforce the saints.’
Even to a comparatively late period the belief in the Gnostic amulets was
current in our own country. Immediately after the battle of Culloden the
baggage of Prince Charles Edward fell into the hands of the Duke of
Cumberland’s army, and many private and curious articles came into the
possession of General Belford–amongst others a stone set in silver
attached to a ring, which probably the superstitious Prince may have
obtained on the Continent as a charm, and carried it as a protection in
the hazardous enterprise in which he was engaged. It was a ruby
blood-stone, having on one face the figure of Mars, with the inscription
beside it, I A _w_. On the other face was a female naked figure, probably
Isis, with the inscription, A T I T A.
The ancient superstition of securing the favour of the great by wearing
certain precious stones appears in the East by the aid of a talismanic
ring–simply, however, of silver, without the assistance of a jewel. In
Herbelot’s ‘Customs of the Mussulmans of India’ a formula is given for the
making of these rings: ‘Should anyone desire to make princes and grandees
subject and obedient to his will he must have a silver ring made, with a
small square tablet fixed on it, upon which is to be engraved the number
that the letters composing the _ism_ represent, which in this case is
2.613. This number by itself, or added to that of its two demons, 286 and
112, and its genius, 1,811–amounting in all to 4,822–must be formed into
a magic square of the _solacee_ or _robace_ kind, and engraved. When the
ring is thus finished, he is, for a week, to place it before him, and
daily, in the morning and in the evening, to repeat the _ism_ five
thousand times, and blow on it. When the whole is concluded he is to wear
the ring on the little finger of the right hand.’
The losing of a ring given as a pledge of affection was considered in
former times, as it is not unfrequently now, to be an omen of mishap. The
widow of Viscount Dundee, the famous Claverhouse, was met and wooed at
Colzium House, in Stirlingshire, by William Livingstone (afterwards
Viscount Kilsyth). As a pledge of his love he presented her with a ring,
which she lost, next day, in the garden; and this giving rise to sad
presentiments, a large reward was offered for its finding and restoration.
Strange it may seem, but Lady Kilsyth was killed in Holland with her
infant, by the fall of a house, and their bodies were brought to Scotland
and interred at Kilsyth. In 1796 the tenant of the garden in which the
ring was lost discovered it, when digging for potatoes, in a clod of
earth. At first he regarded it as a bauble, but the moment the inscription
became apparent the tradition came fresh to his recollection, and he found
it was the identical ring of Lady Kilsyth. It was of gold and about the
value of ten shillings; nearly the breadth of a straw, and without any
stone. The external surface is ornamented with a wreath of myrtle, and on
the internal surface is the legend: ‘Zovrs onlly & euver.’ This ring came
into the possession of the Edmonstone family.
In Sir John Bramstone’s autobiography (1631) it is related that his
stepmother dropped her wedding-ring off her finger into the sea, near the
shore, when she pulled off her glove. She would not go home without the
ring, ‘it being the most unfortunate that could befall anyone to lose the
wedding ring.’ Happily for her comfort, the ring was found.
Rings _bursting_ on the fingers, as an ill-omen, is thus alluded to in the
Scotch ballad of ‘Lammilsin’:
The Lord sat in England
A drinking the wine.
I wish a may be weel
Wi’ my lady at hame;
For the rings of my fingers
They’re now burst in twain.
In the ‘State Trials’ (vol. xiv., Case of Mary Norkott and John Okeman) is
a curious instance of superstition connected with the marriage-ring. It
was a case of murder, and the victim, at the touch of the person accused
of the crime, ‘thrust out the ring or marriage-finger three times, and
pulled it in again, and the finger dropped blood upon the grass.’ Sir
Nicholas Hyde said to the witness: ‘Who saw this beside you?’ The answer
was: ‘I cannot swear what others saw; but, my Lord, I do believe the whole
company saw it, and if it had been thought a doubt, proof would have been
made of it, and many would have attested with me.’
The breaking of a ring was of ominous import. Atkinson, in his ‘Memoirs of
the Queen of Prussia,’ says: ‘The betrothal of the young couple (Frederic
and Sophia Charlotte, first King and Queen of Prussia) speedily followed.
I believe it was during the festivities attendant upon this occasion that
a ring worn by Frederic, in memory of his deceased wife, with the device
of clasped hands, and the motto “_à jamais_,” suddenly broke, which was
looked upon as an omen that this union, likewise, was to be of short
duration.’
The breaking of a wedding-ring is still regarded in some parts of England
as an import that its wearer will soon be a widow. A correspondent of
‘Notes and Queries’ found this superstition current in Essex a few years
ago. A man had been murdered in that county, and his widow said: ‘I
thought I should soon lose him, for I broke my wedding-ring the other day,
and my sister lost her husband after breaking her ring. It is a sure
sign’!
It was an olden superstition that the bending of the leaves to the right
or to the left of the orpine plants, or _Mid-summer men_, as they were
called (_Telephium_), would never fail to tell whether a lover was true or
false. In an old poem, the ‘Cottage Girl,’ we find:–
Oft on the shrub she casts her eye,
That spoke her true love’s secret sigh;
Or else, alas, too plainly told
Her true love’s faithless heart was cold.
In 1801 a small gold ring was exhibited at the Society of Antiquaries
(found in a ploughed field near Cawood, in Yorkshire) which had for a
device two orpine plants joined by a true-love knot, with a motto above:
‘_ma fiance velt_,’ my sweetheart wills, or is desirous. The stalks of the
plants were bent to each other, in token that the parties represented by
them were to come together in marriage. The motto under the ring was:
‘_Joye l’amour feu_.’ From the form of the letters it appeared to have
been a ring of the fifteenth century.
The ring conferring divination powers on the wedding-cake is thus alluded
to in the ‘St. James’s Chronicle’ (1799):–
Enlivening source of Hymeneal mirth,
All hail the blest receipt that gave thee birth!
Though Flora culls the fairest of her bowers,
And strews the path of Hymen with her flowers,
Nor half the raptures give her scatter’d sweets,
The _Cake_ far kinder gratulation meets.
The bridesmaid’s eyes with sparkling glances beam,
She views the cake, and greets the promised dream;
For, when endowed with necromantic spell,
She knows what wondrous things the cake will tell.
When from the altar comes the pensive bride,
With downcast looks, her partner at her side,
Soon from the ground these thoughtful looks arise
To meet the cake that gayer thoughts supplies.
With her own hands she charms each destined slice,
_And through the ring repeats the trebled thrice_.
The hallow’d ring, infusing magic power,
Bids Hymen’s visions wait the midnight hour;
The mystic treasure placed beneath her head
Will tell the fair if haply she will wed.
These mysteries portentous lie conceal’d
Till Morpheus calls and bids them stand reveal’d;
The future husband that night’s dream will bring,
Whether a parson, soldier, beggar, king,
As partner of her life the fair must take,
Irrevocable doom of Bridal-cake.
Rowe, in his ‘Happy Village’ (1796), says ‘the wedding-cake now through
the ring was led.’
The connection between the bride-cake and wedding-ring is strongly marked
in the following custom, still retained in Yorkshire, where the former is
cut into little square pieces, thrown over the bridegroom and bride’s
head, and then put through the ring.
In the North slices of the bride-cake are put through the wedding-ring,
and they are afterwards laid under the pillows at night to cause young
persons to dream of their lovers. Douce’s manuscript notes say: ‘This is
not peculiar to the north of England, but seems to prevail generally; the
pieces of cake must be drawn nine times through the wedding-ring.’
In Brand’s ‘Popular Antiquities’ we read: ‘Many married women are so
rigid, not to say superstitious, in their notions concerning their
wedding-rings, that neither when they wash their hands, nor at any other
time, will they take the ring off the finger; extending, it should seem,
the expression of “till death do us part” even to this golden circlet, the
token and pledge of matrimony.’ There is an old proverb on the subject of
wedding-rings, which has, no doubt, been many a time quoted for the
purpose of encouraging and hastening the consent of a diffident or
timorous mistress:–
As your wedding-ring wears,
Your cares will wear away.
A charm-divination on October 6, St. Faith’s day, is still in use in the
north of England. A cake of flour, spring water, salt, and sugar, is made
by three girls, each having an equal hand in the composition. It is then
baked in a Dutch oven, silence being strictly preserved, and turned thrice
by each person. When it is well baked it must be divided into three equal
parts, and each girl must cut her share into nine pieces, drawing every
piece through a wedding-ring which has been borrowed from a woman who has
been married seven years. Each girl must eat her pieces of cake while she
is undressing, and repeat the following verses:–
O good St. Faith, be kind to-night,
And bring to me my heart’s delight;
Let me my future husband view,
And be my visions chaste and true.
All three must then get into one bed, with the ring suspended by a string
to the head of the couch. They will then dream of their future husbands.
A very singular divination practised at the period of the harvest-moon is
thus described in an old chap-book: ‘When you go to bed place under your
pillow a Prayer-book open at the part of the Matrimonial Service, “With
this ring I thee wed;” place on it a key, a _ring_, a flower, and a sprig
of willow, a small heart-cake, a crust of bread, and the following cards:
the ten of clubs, nine of hearts, ace of spades, and the ace of diamonds.
Wrap all these in a thin handkerchief of gauze or muslin, and on getting
into bed cross your hands and say:–
Luna, every woman’s friend,
To me thy goodness condescend;
Let me this night in visions see
Emblems of my destiny.
If you dream of storms, trouble will betide you; if the storm ends in a
fine calm, so will your fate; if of a _ring_, or the ace of diamonds,
marriage; bread, an industrious life; cake, a prosperous life; flowers,
joy; willow, treachery in love; spades, death; diamonds, money; clubs, a
foreign land; hearts, base children; keys, that you will rise to great
trust and power, and never know want; birds, that you will have many
children; and geese, that you will marry more than once.’
There is an old superstition on the colours of stones in ‘keepsake’
rings:–
Oh, green is forsaken
And yellow’s forsworn,
But blue is the prettiest colour that’s worn.
A correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries’ observes that in the district about
Burnley it is common to put the wedding-ring into the posset, and, after
serving it out, the unmarried person whose cup contains the ring will be
the first of the company to be married.
In Ireland it is a popular belief that finding the ring in a piece of
Michaelmas pie would ensure the maiden possessor an early marriage.
The following notice of an advertisement is extracted from an Oxford paper
of 1860, and republished in ‘Notes and Queries’ (3rd series, vol. x. p.
19): ‘IMPORTANT NOTICE!–The largest cake ever made in Oxford, weighing
upward of 1,000 pounds, and containing 30 gold wedding and other rings, in
value from 7_s._ 6_d._ to Two Guineas each! To be seen for sale at No. 1
Queen Street, Oxford, from Thursday, December 27th, until Saturday,
January 5th, 1861, when it will be cut out at the low price of 1_s._ 2_d._
per pound (this quality frequently sold for wedding-cake). Persons at a
distance desirous of purchasing may rely upon prompt attention being given
to their favours.
‘N.B.–J. Boffin will feel obliged if persons obtaining the gold rings
will favour him with their names.’
A wide-spread superstition or fancy prevails with regard to the use of a
gold ring at weddings. Mr. Wood, in his ‘Wedding Day in all Ages and
Countries,’ observes ‘that the Irish peasantry have a general impression
that a marriage without the use of a gold ring is not legal. At a town in
the south-east of Ireland, a person kept a few gold wedding-rings for
hire, and when parties who were too poor to purchase a ring of the
necessary precious metal were about to be married, they obtained the loan
of one, and paid a small fee for the same, the ring being returned to the
owner immediately after the ceremony. In some places it is common for the
same ring to be used for many marriages, which ring remains in the custody
of the priest.’
Mr. Jeaffreson says: ‘I have known labourers of the eastern counties of
England express their faith in the mystic efficacy of the golden arrabo in
language that in the seventeenth century would have stirred Puritan
auditors to denounce the Satanic bauble and its worshippers with godly
fervour.’
Pegge, in his ‘Curialia,’ alludes to the superstition that a wedding-ring
of gold rubbed on a stye upon the eyelid was a sovereign remedy, but it
required to be rubbed _nine_ times.
Mr. W. R. S. Ralston, in his ‘Songs of the Russians,’ mentions some
curious superstitions in connexion with rings in that country.
A custom exists in Russia of catching rain that falls during a
thunderstorm in a basin, at the bottom of which rain has been placed. In
the Riazan Government, water that has been dropped through a wedding-ring
is supposed to have certain merits as a lotion; and at a Little-Russian
marriage the bride is bound to give the bridegroom to drink from a cup of
wine in which a ring has been put. From the mention of a ring made in the
‘Dodola Songs,’ and in others referring to storm and rain, it is supposed
that a golden ring, in mythical language, is to be taken as a
representation of the lightning’s heavenly gold.
In the olden time the celestial divinities were supposed to be protectors
and favourers of marriage, and the first nuptial crown was attributed to
that heavenly framer of all manner of implements who forged the first
plough for man. And so, in some of the songs, a prayer is offered up to a
mysterious smith, beseeching him to construct a golden nuptial crown, and
out of the fragments of it to make a wedding-ring, and a pin with which to
fasten the bridal veil.
There comes a Smith from the Forge, _Glory!_
The Smith carries three hammers, _Glory!_
Smith, Smith, forge me a crown, _Glory!_
Forge me a crown both golden and new, _Glory!_
Forge from the remnants a golden ring, _Glory!_
And from the chips a pin, _Glory!_
In that crown will I be wedded, _Glory!_
With that ring will I be betrothed, _Glory!_
With that pin will I fasten the nuptial kerchief, _Glory!_
When a lover leaves his mistress for a time, he gives her a golden ring
(_pérsten’_, a signet-ring, or one set with gems–from _perst_, a finger)
and receives from her a gold ring in exchange (_Kol’ tsë_, a plain circlet
like our own wedding-ring, from _Kolo_, a circle).
It is not a falcon flying across the sky,
It is not a falcon scattering blue feathers,
But a brave youth galloping along the road,
Forth from his bright eyes pouring bitter tears.
He has parted from his own,
The Lower River track, through which,
In all her beauty, Mother Volga flows.
He has parted from the maiden fair,
And with her as a token left
A costly diamond ring;
And from her has he taken in exchange
A plighting ring of gold.
And while exchanging gifts thus has he spoken:
‘Forget me not, my dear one,
Forget me not, my loved companion.
Often, often gaze upon my ring;
Often, often will I kiss thy circlet,
Pressing it to my beating heart,
Remembering thee, my own.
_If ever I think of another love,
The golden circlet will unclasp;
Shouldst thou to another suitor yield,
From the ring the diamond will fall._’

CHAPTER III.SECULAR INVESTITURE BY THE RING.
The investiture of our English sovereigns _per annulum_, or by the ring,
is an important part of our present coronation ceremonial. On this august
occasion the master of the Jewel-House delivers the ring (which is of
plain gold, with a large table ruby, on which the cross of St. George is
engraved), to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who places it on the fourth
finger of the sovereign’s right hand, saying: ‘Receive this ring, the
ensign of kingly dignity and of defence of the catholic faith, that as you
are this day consecrated head of the kingdom and people, so, rich in
faith, and abounding in good works, you may reign with Him who is King of
kings, to whom be glory and honour for ever and ever, Amen.’
Of the intrinsic value ascribed to the coronation ring we have an instance
recorded in the life of James II. He was detained by the fishermen of
Sheerness in his first attempt to escape from England in 1688; the
particulars are related in his ‘Memoirs:’ ‘The King kept the diamond
bodkin which he had of the queen’s, and the _coronation ring_, which, for
more security, he put into his drawers. The captain, it appeared, was well
acquainted with the dispositions of his crew one of whom cried out “It is
Father Petre–I know him by his lantern jaws;” a second called him an old
“hatchet-faced Jesuit;” and a third, “a cunning old rogue, he would
warrant him!”; for, some time after he was gone, and, probably by his
order, several seamen entered the King’s cabin, saying they must search
him and the gentlemen, believing that they had not given up all their
money. The King and his companions told them that they were at liberty to
do so, thinking that their readiness would induce them not to persist; but
they were mistaken; the sailors began their search with a roughness and
rudeness which proved they were accustomed to the employment. At last one
of them, feeling about the King’s knee, got hold of the diamond bodkin,
and cried out, with the usual oath, he had found a prize; but the King
boldly declared he was mistaken. He had, indeed, scissors, a tooth-pick
case, and little keys in his pocket, and what was felt was undoubtedly one
of these articles. The man still seemed incredulous, and rudely thrust his
hand into the King’s pocket; but in his haste he lost hold of the diamond
bodkin, and, finding the things the King mentioned, remained satisfied it
was so; by this means the bodkin and ring were preserved.’
The ring is said to have been a favourite one of the unfortunate Mary,
Queen of Scots, and was sent by her, at her death, to James I., through
whom it came into the possession of Charles I., and on his execution was
transmitted by Bishop Juxon to his son. It afterwards came into the hands
of George IV., with other relics belonging to Cardinal York.
This ring is mentioned in the ‘Inventory of the Goods and Chattels
belonging to King James the Second,’ taken July 22, 1703: ‘one ruby ring,
having a cross engraved on it, with which the late king was crowned,’ and
is valued at 1,500_l._ In Leland’s ‘Collectanea,’ in describing the
ceremonies made use of at the coronation of the mother of Henry VIII., it
states that the archbishop ‘next _blest_ her ring, and sprinkled on it
holy water.’
In the coronation of the kings of France the ring was first blessed by the
officiating archbishop, who, seated with the mitre on his head, placed it
on the fourth finger of the right hand of the monarch, using a nearly
similar form of benediction to that practised at the coronations of our
own sovereigns.[44]
In the curious account of the coronation of Louis XIII. of France,
preserved in a chronicle of his reign, it mentions: ‘The royal ring being
blessed by the Cardinal de Joyeuse (who officiated for the Archbishop of
Rheims), a symbol of love, whereby the King was wedded to his realm, he
placed it on the fourth finger of His Majesty’s right hand, for a mark of
the sovereign power.’
Kirchmann states that at the coronation of Ferdinand III. at Ratisbon, in
1616, a few years before he wrote, the Archbishop and Elector of Maintz,
having received from the altar a very precious ring, placed it on the
finger of the Emperor, with these words: ‘Accipe regiæ dignitatis annulum,
et per hoc Catholicæ fidei cognosce signaculum, et ud hodie ordinaris
caput et princeps regni et populi, ita perseverabilis auctor et stabilitor
Christianitatis et Christianæ fidei fias, ut feliciter in opere cum Rege
regum glorioris per eum, cui est honor et gloria, per infinita secula
seculorum.–Amen.’
The typical meaning of the royal investiture by the ring is the union of
the sovereign with his people, whom he is supposed to espouse at this
solemnity, and in this sense some older writers have called it ‘the
wedding ring of England.’
The ring worn by the queen-consorts of Great Britain at their coronation
was of gold with a large table ruby set therein, and small rubies set
round about the ring, of which those next the setting were the largest,
the rest diminishing in proportion. Queen Mary Beatrice, consort of James
the II., wore a ring of this description to her dying day, and nothing
during her misfortune could ever induce her to part with it.[45]
That the ring was considered an indication of sovereign will from the
earliest times, we have proofs, as I have mentioned, in the Holy
Scriptures. So Alexander the Great, on his death-bed, on being asked to
whom he would leave the kingdom, answered, to the most worthy, and gave
his ring, when speechless, to Perdiccas. The Emperor Tiberius, on the
point of death, took his ring from his finger, and held it a short time,
as though intending to give it to some one, as his successor; he however,
put it on again, and became insensible. Recovering at length, he found
that his ring had been taken from him, and demanded it, upon which his
attendants smothered him with the cushions.
The Emperor Valerian gave a ring with two precious stones to his successor
Claudius. The knights of ancient Rome were permitted to wear, as the
insignia of their rank, golden rings and collars. They were presented at
the public expense with a horse and gold ring. Offa, king of the East
Angles, is recorded to have appointed Edmund, the son of a kinsman, his
successor, by sending him the ring which he received at his own
coronation. The ‘pilgrim-ring’ of Edward the Confessor, to which I have
alluded in the chapter on ‘Ring Superstitions,’ was in after times
preserved with great care at his shrine in Westminster Abbey, and was used
at the investiture of subsequent sovereigns.
The investiture of Prince Edmund, second son of King Henry III., as King
of Sicily, which took place in 1255, was performed at London by the Bishop
of Bononia, in the presence of the King, and a numerous assembly, by the
symbol of a ring, which the Pope had sent for that purpose. Henry is said
to have wept for joy, and sent the Pontiff immediately afterwards fifty
thousand marks, but this event led to the association of the barons
against the King and other great changes.
In 1469, Charles of France having renounced the possession of the duchy of
Normandy, for which he received in exchange Guyenne, his ducal ring was
sent by Louis XI. to the exchequer at Rouen, where it was broken in two
pieces at a solemn assembly held for that purpose in the castle of
Bouvreuil, in the presence of the Constable of France, Louis de
Luxembourg.
A papal investiture, by a ring, of a sovereign of England is recorded by
John of Salisbury, contemporary with Pope Adrian VIII., and who states
that the Pontiff ceded and gave to Henry II. the island of Ireland, in
hereditary succession, claiming, as his right to do so, the grant of
Constantine by which all islands belonged to the See of Rome. The Pope
sent a large gold ring, set with a fine emerald, as a mark of investiture,
and which, together with the bull, were deposited in the archives at
Winchester. Richard II. resigned the crown to Henry IV. by transferring to
him his ring.
In subsequent ages, and within a few centuries of our time, we find the
royal power displayed significantly in the ring, which, in the instance I
mention, was truly a messenger of grace. Two Scotch burgesses in the
stormy days of Queen Mary had been condemned to death, but were reprieved
at the foot of the gallows by her Majesty. The messenger was sent in great
haste by the Earl of Bothwell, ‘and presented the Queen’s ring to the
provost’s inspection for the safety of their lives.’ This was considered a
sufficient indication of the royal clemency, and ‘the revival’ (observes
Knox, in his ‘History of the Reformation in Scotland’) ‘of an ancient
custom practised by Scottish monarchs before the date of the earliest
sign-manual on record, when everything in Church and State were
represented in types and symbols.’
Another interesting incident in connection with Mary, Queen of Scots, is
the ring with which she invested Darnley with the Dukedom of Albany. An
engraving and description of this ring will be found in the chapter on
‘Remarkable Rings.’ The infant James, son of Mary, Queen of Scots, was, a
few days after his baptism, invested with the ring and other insignia, as
Prince of Scotland, Duke of Rothsay, Earl of Carrick and Cunningham, and
Baron of Renfrew. The royal child sat in his mother’s lap while a gold
ring was placed on his tiny finger.
Among the insignia connected with the investiture of the Princes of Wales
is a ring. The earliest charter of creation known by Selden is that of
Edward III. to his son and heir-apparent, Edward, Duke of Cornwall, some
years after he was made Duke. This charter contains the particulars of the
ceremony of investiture with the coronal, the ring of gold, and the rod of
silver. In the letters patent issued by George I. (Sept. 22, 1714),
declaring his son George Augustus, Duke of Brunswick Lunenburgh, ‘Prince
of Wales and Earl of Chester,’ the investiture is thus described:
‘Likewise, we invest him, the said Prince, with the aforesaid principality
and county, which he may continue to govern and protect; and we confirm
him in the same by these ensigns of honour–the girding of a sword, the
delivering of a cap and placing it on his head, _with a ring on his
finger_, and a golden staff in his hand, _according to custom_, to be
possessed by him and his heirs, Kings of Great Britain.’[46]
The practice now is that the Prince of Wales is invested with the Earldom
of Chester by special patent, while he enjoys by a sort of hereditary
prescription certain other titular distinctions. In the patent of creation
of Albert Edward, Prince of Wales (dated Dec. 8th, 1841), the Queen, in
the patent, states: ‘We do ennoble (our most dear son) and invest with the
said principality and earldom, by girting him with a sword, by putting a
coronet on his head, and a gold ring on his finger, and also by delivering
a gold rod into his hand,’ &c.
According to French writers it was formerly a custom in that country to
give a marquis, on his elevation to that dignity, a ring set with the
ruby; a count received a diamond ring.
The royal signet-ring in Anglo-Saxon times served as an authority in
law-suits about land. In the Cottonian MSS. (Aug. 2, p. 15), one charter
states that ‘Wynfleth, to prove a gift of land by Alfrith, led witnesses
to the King, who sent a writ to Leofwin, and desired that men should be
summoned to the shire-gemot to try the case, and as an authority sent his
signet-ring to this gemot by an abbot and greeted all the witan.’
The charters given by our early kings received the royal confirmation by
the ring: thus Richard Cœur-de-Lion, in a charter relating to the exchange
of Andeli, in Normandy, belonging to the clergy of Rouen, for other
properties, much to the advantage of the ecclesiastics, passed his ring,
in sign of investiture, in the silk threads suspended to the parchment.
This ring was still attached to the charter in 1666, as appears in the
‘Histoires des Archévèsques de Rouen’ (p. 424), but has since disappeared.
M. Achille Deville, in his ‘Histoire du Château-Gaillard,’ observes: ‘Il
n’est pas de fois que j’aye touché la charte de ce monarque célèbre (et je
l’ai eue souvent entre les mains), que la perte de ce précieux anneau ne
m’ait causé de cuisants régrets’–a regret which all lovers of historic
relics will fully share.
‘The ninth, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries,’ says Willemin, ‘offer
rings attached to diplomas, but it is questionable whether they served to
hold the place of the seal, or were simply marks of investiture; we know
that anciently the purchaser and recipient of a gift were put into
possession by a ring.’ Dugdale states that ‘Osbert de Camera, some time in
the twelfth century, being visited with great sickness, granted unto the
canons of St. Paul in pure alms for the health of his soul certain lands
and houses lying near Haggelane, in the parish of St. Benedict, giving
possession of them _with his gold ring_, wherein was set a ruby,
appointing that the said gold ring, together with his seal, should for
ever be fixed to the charter whereby he so disposed them.’ From the same
source we are told that ‘William de Belmers gave certain lands to St.
Paul’s Cathedral, and at the same time directed that his gold ring, set
with a ruby, should, together with the seal, be affixed to the charter for
ever.’
At a meeting of the Archæological Institute, in March 1850, Mr. W. Foulkes
exhibited a gold signet-ring, preserved by the family of J. Jones, Esq.,
of Llanerchrwgog Hall, impressions of which are appended to deeds
concerning that property from the middle of the thirteenth century. The
impress is a monogram, meaning I and M (Iesus and Maria?), placed under a
crown. It has been supposed to be the ring of Madoc, one of the last
princes of Powis, and to have descended as a heir-loom, with lands granted
by them to the ancestors of Mr. Jones.
A ruby ring is described as the ‘Charter of Poynings,’ in the will of Sir
Michael de Poynings, in 1386. Poynings, in the neighbourhood of Brighton,
was the seat of this ancient family from a period soon after the Conquest
till the year 1446, when the barony, owing to the marriage of the heiress,
merged into the earldom of Northumberland, and became extinct in 1679.
Michael de Poynings, a banneret under Edward III. at the battle of Crecy,
amongst other grants, left to his heir the ruby ring ‘which is the
charter of my heritage of Poynings.’ This ruby ring of inheritance, the
charter of the ‘Sires of Ponynges,’ came into possession of his son
Thomas, and then to his second son Richard. According to tradition the
famous Isabella de Fortibus, Countess of Devon, in the reign of Henry
III., settled the boundaries of certain disputed parishes by flinging her
ring into a marsh, hence called ‘Ring in the Mire.’
So late as the sixteenth century the conveyance of property by means of a
ring may be remarked in the following passage or item in the will of Anne
Barrett, of Bury, dated 1504, ‘My maryeng ryng wt. all thynggs thereon.’
It is worthy of note that among the numerous kinds of evidence allowed in
courts of law to establish a pedigree, engravings on rings are admitted
upon the presumption that a person would not wear a ring with an error
upon it.[47]
John O’Molony, Bishop of Limerick in 1687, who, after the siege of that
city, followed James II. to Paris, where he assisted in the foundation of
a University for the education of Irish priests, left a gold ring at his
death, which was to be sent to, and to denote, the head branch of the
family. This conferred the privilege to have any of the name of Molony
brought up as priests at the University, free of expense.
The custom of serjeants presenting rings on taking the coif, has formed
the subject of some interesting notices in that valuable work ‘Notes and
Queries.’ Mr. Serjeant Wynne in his observations touching the antiquity
and dignity of serjeants-at-law (1765) remarks: ‘The first introduction of
rings themselves on this occasion of making serjeants is as doubtful as
that of mottoes. They are taken notice of by Fortescue in the time of
Henry VI., and in the several regulations for general calls, in Henry
VIII. and Queen Elizabeth’s time. Whatever is the antiquity of these
rings, that of mottoes seems to fall short of them at least a century.
That in the 19th and 20th Elizabeth (1576-77) may perhaps be the first,
because till that time they are no more mentioned. When Dugdale speaks of
the posies that were usual, he must be understood to speak of the usages
of his own time.’ The motto which Serjeant Wynne notices as of the
earliest occurrence in 19th and 20th Elizabeth was ‘Lex regis
præsidium.’[48]
In the ‘Diary of a Resident in London’ (Henry Machyn, Camden Society) we
find that on October 17, 1552, ‘was made vii serjants of the coyffe, who
gayf to (the judges) and the old serjants, and men of the law, rynges of
gold, every serjant gayf lyke rynges.’
In the inventory of the effects of Henry Howard, K.G., Earl of Northampton
(1614), (Archæologia, vol. ii., part ii., page 350) we find ‘v serjeantis
ringes waighinge one ounce, three quarters, four graines.’ These were
presentations to him in his official capacity of Lord Privy Seal.
Serjeant Wynne brings his list of the serjeants called down to the year
1765, and gives, in most cases, the mottoes, which were not confined, it
seems, to individuals, but adopted by the whole call. He remarks that in
late years they have been strictly classical in their phrase, and often
elegant in their application–whether in expressing the just idea of regal
liberty–in a wish for the preservation of the family, or in a happy
allusion to some public event, and, at the same time, a kind of prophetic
declaration of its success. In the same work will be found an account of
the expense and weight of the rings–that these matters were important
appears from an extract in 1 Modern Reports, case 30: ‘Seventeen serjeants
being made the 14th day of November (1669?), a daye or two after, Serjeant
Powis, the junior of them all, coming to the King’s Bench Bar, Lord Chief
Justice Kelynge told him ‘that he had something to say to him,’ viz., that
the rings which he and the rest of the serjeants had given weighed but
eighteen shillings apiece; whereas Fortescue, in his book “De Laudibus
Legum Angliæ,” says “the rings given to the Chief Justices and to the
Chief Baron ought to weigh twenty shillings apiece,” and that he spoke not
this expecting a recompense, but that it might not be drawn into a
precedent, and that the young gentlemen there might take notice of it.’
With regard to the cost of the serjeants’ rings, and the parties to whom
they are presented, Mr. Mackenzie Walcott, M.A., writes in ‘Notes and
Queries’ that on June 8, 1705, fifteen serjeants-at-law took the customary
oaths at the Chancery Bar, and delivered to the Lord Keeper a ring for the
Queen, and another to H.R.H. Prince George of Denmark, each ring being
worth 6_l._ 13_s._ 4_d._ The Lord Keeper, and the Lord Treasurer, Lord
Steward, Lord Privy Seal, Lord High Chamberlain, Master of the Household,
Lord Chamberlain, and the two Chief Justices, each received a ring of the
value of 18_s._; the Lord Chief Baron, the Master of the Rolls, the
Justices of either Bench, and two Chief Secretaries, each, one worth
16_s._; the Chief Steward and Comptroller, each a ring valued at 1_l._;
the Marshal, Warden of the Fleet, every Serjeant-at-law, the
Attorney-General and Solicitor-General, each a ring worth 12_s._; the
three Barons of Exchequer, one each of 10_s._; the two Clerks of the
Crown, the three Prothonotaries, the Clerks of the Warrants, the
Prothonotary of Queen’s Bench, and the Chirographer, each a ring worth
5_s._; each Filazer and Exigenter, the Clerk of the Council, and the
Custom Brevium, each a ring that cost 2_s._ 6_d._ The motto on the rings
was ‘Moribus, armis, legibus.’
On the admission of fourteen serjeants in 1737, 1,409 rings were given
away, at a cost of 773_l._, and besides this number, others were made for
each serjeant’s own account, to be given to friends at the bar, which came
to more than all the rest of the expense.
There are some quaint old customs still adhering to the making of a
serjeant. He is presented to the Lord Chancellor by some brother barrister
(styled his ‘colt’), and he kneels while the Chancellor attaches to the
top of his wig the little, round, black patch that now does duty for the
‘coif,’ which is the special badge of the Serjeant. The new Serjeant
presents a massive gold ring to the Chancellor, another to his ‘colt,’ one
to the Sovereign, and each of the Masters of the Court of Common Pleas.
These rings used also to be given to all the Judges, but of late years the
Judges have refused to receive them, thus diminishing a somewhat heavy
tax.
It would be curious to know whether this custom is derived from the
Romans. Juvenal alludes to the practice of lawyers exhibiting their rings
when pleading:–
Ideo conducta Paulus agebat
Sardonyche et que ideo plurisquam Cossus agebat
Quam Basilus. Rara in tenui facundia panno.
The reader will find a list of mottoes, and much information on the
subject of serjeants’ rings, in ‘Notes and Queries’ (1st Series, vol. v.
pp. 110, 139, 181, 563; 2nd Series, vol. i. p. 249). The most recent
instance (January 1872) of the presentation of a serjeant’s ring is that
of Mr. J. R. Quain, who chose for his motto ‘Dare, facere, præstare.’
At the Loan Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South
Kensington Museum, in 1872, a serjeant’s gold ring, inscribed ✠ LEX X
REGIS X PRÆSIDIUM, was shown–the property of Mr. John Evans–as the
earliest known, the date being 1576-77. The small size of the ring would
assume that it was merely complimentary.
Some barristers that Lord Brougham did not think much of, wishing to be
made serjeants, he suggested that the most appropriate motto that could be
found for their rings would be the old legal word ‘scilicet.’
This illustration represents a serjeant’s ring, supposed to be of the
seventeenth century–a plain band of gold, engraved with ‘Imperio regit
unus æquo’ (Horace, lib. iii., Ode iv.).
In the collection of Mr. J. W. Singer is a very fine serjeant’s ring,
which that gentleman attributes as of very early manufacture. It is a rare
type of rings of this description, which have not been much noticed. The
inscription reads: ‘Legis executo regis pservatio.’
In France, Italy, and Germany, a forensic order of knighthood was
frequently conferred on the successful practitioner at the bar. Bartoli,
the oracle of the law in the fourteenth century, asserted that at the end
of the tenth year of successful professional exertion, the _avocât_
belonging to the denomination of _l’Ordre des Avocâts_ became _ipso facto_
a knight.
When the distinction was applied for, the King commissioned some ancient
Knight of the Forensic Order to admit the postulant into it. The _avocât_
knelt before the Knight-commissary and said: ‘I pray you, my lord and
protector, to dress me with the sword, belt, golden spurs, golden collar,
_golden ring_, and all the other ornaments of a true knight. I will not
use the advantages of knighthood for profane purposes; I will use them
only for the purposes of religion, for the Church, and the holy Christian
faith, in the _warfare of the science_ to which I am devoted.’ The
postulant then rose; and being fully equipped, and girded with the sword,
he became, for all purposes, a member of the order of knighthood.
In the Memoirs of the Maréchal de Vieilleville, who died in 1571, such
knights are mentioned as very common.
In 1795 the Order of _Avocâts_ was suppressed, after 427 years of a
brilliant existence.
Doctors, as indicative of their position, wore formerly a ring on the
third finger of the right hand.
A ring formed part of the investiture of three poets-laureate by the
Chancellor of the University of Strasburg in 1621, who at their
installation pronounced these words: ‘I create you, being placed in a
chair of state, crowned with laurel and ivy, and wearing _a ring of gold_,
and the same do pronounce and constitute poets-laureate in the name of
the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.’
Gower, in his ‘Confessio Amantis,’ mentions a statue of Apollo, adorned
with a ring:–
Forth ryghte he straighte his finger oute,
Upon the which he had a ringe,
To seen it was a ryche thynge,
A fyne carbuncle for the nones,
Most precious of all stones.
In the early Saxon times, we read that Gumlaughr, the scald, presented to
King Ethelred a heroic poem which he had composed on the royal virtues,
and received in return ‘a purple tunic lined with the richest furs,’ also
‘a gold ring of the weight of seven ounces.’
In ancient Wales the Judge of the King’s palace had as ensign of his
office a gold ring from the Queen. It was his duty at his own cost to
reward the successful competitor in the musical contests of the bards with
a silver chair as ‘Pen Cerdd’ (chief of song), and who in return presented
him with a gold ring, a drinking-horn, and a cushion. The royal minstrel
received on his appointment a harp from the King, and a ring from the
queen.
‘Merchant Marks’ (to which I have alluded in the first chapter of this
work) originated from the guild or mayor’s rings, which were used as
personal signets, by such as were not entitled to bear arms. They were
worn on the thumb for constant use in sealing. A fine ring of this kind is
engraved in the ‘Journal of the Archæological Institute.’ It was found in
the bed of the Severn, near Upton, and is, probably, a work of the
fifteenth century; it is of silver and has been strongly gilt. The hoop is
spirally grooved, and upon the circular face is a large =H= surrounded by
branches.
In the custody of the Mayor of Winchester is a signet-ring with the arms
of the city and initials E. W., probably Edward White, Mayor in 1613 and
1621.
In late times we have the ring adopted as a club badge by the famous
Beef-Steak Club, of convivial notoriety. The members wore a blue coat,
with red cape and cuffs, buttons with the initials B. S., and behind the
President’s chair was placed the Society’s halbert, which, with the
gridiron, was found among the rubbish after the Covent Garden fire in
1808.
Ashmole, in his ‘History of the Most Noble Order of the Garter,’ mentions
that gold rings have been cast into the figures of garters, ‘the ground on
the outside enamelled with a deep blue, through which the golden letters
of the motto appearing, set them off with an admirable beauty. And it
seems such rings were in vogue, since the preface to the black book of the
Order makes mention of wearing the garter on the leg and shoulder, and
sometimes subjoins the thumb, _interdum pollice gestare_, by which we may
naturally conclude that gold rings were formed into the fashion of
garters, and bestowed by some new-installed knights upon their relations
and friends to wear in memorial of so great an honour conferred upon
them.’
In the collection of the Rev. W. B. Hawkins is a gold official ring of the
Grand Master of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem (Malta), with bezel
oval, glazed, with skeleton, hour-glass, and scythe, in enamel on a black
ground; on the shoulders of the ring is a death’s head with cross-bones.
At the meeting of the Archæological Institute at Norwich in July 1847, a
ring formed like a strap or garter, buckled, was exhibited, bearing the
inscription ‘Mater Dei memento mei,’ found at Necton, date about 1450.
Rings of this fashion were in use from the close of the fourteenth
century, shortly after the institution of the Order of the Garter. Other
specimens are to be seen in the British Museum, and in the collection of
the Archæological Institute.
A cap and a _ring_ are conferred with the degree of Doctor of Civil Laws
in Belgium.
In the ‘Biographia Britannica’ (Article ‘Crichton’) we read of the
bestowal of a ring on a college disputant. This was in the case of the
‘Admirable Crichton,’ who, when he was only twenty years of age, entered
the academic lists with anyone who would compete with him in Hebrew,
Syriac, Arabic, Greek, Latin, Spanish, French, Italian, English, Dutch,
Flemish, and Sclavonian, besides every kind of courtly accomplishment.
This he maintained in the College of Navarre, and the president, after
many compliments on his vast acquirements, gave him a diamond ring and a
purse of money.
At the ceremonies observed on the inauguration of a king-at-arms the crown
and ring were generally bestowed by the hand of the monarch himself, as in
the case of Sir David Lindsay, Lord Lion, King-at-arms:
Whom royal James himself had crowned,
And on his temples placed the round
Of Scotland’s ancient diadem;
And wet his brow with hallow’d wine,
And on his finger given to shine
The emblematic gem.
Among the insignia of the Knights of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem is
a ring bearing the Cross.
In the ‘Dublin Penny Journal’ we read of the signet-ring of the famous
Turlough Lynnoch, which was found at Charlemont, in the county of Armagh.
It bears the bloody hand of the O’Neils, and initials T. O. The signet
part of the ring is circular, and the whole of it is silver. James the
First made this bloody hand the distinguishing badge of a new order of
baronets, and they were created to aid, by service or money for forces, in
subduing the O’Neils.
In 1780 a large gold ring, supposed to have belonged to one of the knights
hospitallers of Winckbourne, some of whom are believed to have been buried
at Southwell, was found by the sexton of Southwell church while digging a
grave. It is six-eighths of an inch in diameter, and three-eighths of an
inch in breadth. The following motto is deeply cut on the inside: ‘+ MIEV
+ MORI + QVE + CHANGE + MA + FOI +’ (better to die than change my faith).
I have already mentioned how, from the earliest times, the ring was
considered to denote peculiar distinction, and was the emblem of nobility;
and so, amidst many divergences, it still continued to a later period to
be considered as a badge of honourable birth. Thus Rabelais alludes to the
rings that Gargantua wore because his father desired him ‘to renew that
ancient mark of nobility.’ On the forefinger of his left hand he had a
gold ring set with a large carbuncle, and on the middle finger one of
mixed metal, then usually made by alchemists. On the middle finger of the
right hand he had ‘a ring made spire-wise, wherein was set a perfect balew
ruby, a pointed diamond, and a Physon emerald of inestimable value.’
The French expression _une bague au doigt_ means a sinecure–pay without
the work.
In former times the victor in a wrestling match received a ram and a ring.
In the Coke’s ‘Tale of Gamelyn,’ ascribed to Chaucer, we read:–
There happed to be there beside
Tryed a wrestling;
And therefore there was y setten,
A ram and als a ring.
And in the ‘Litil Geste of Robin Hood’:–
By a bridge was a wrestling,
And there tayred was he;
And there was all the best yemen
Of all the west countrey.
A full fayre game there was set up,
A white bull up yspight,
A great courser with saddle and brydle,
With gold burnished full bryght;
A payre of gloves, a red golde ringe,
A pipe of wine, good fay;
What man bereth him best, I wis,
The prize shall bear away.
So Sir Walter Scott, in the ‘Lady of the Lake’:–
Prize of the wrestling-match, the King
To Douglas gave a golden ring.
In the ‘Gulistan,’ or rose-garden of Sadi, is a pretty story in connection
with a prize-ring for shooting. A certain King of Persia had a very
precious stone in a ring. One day he went out with some of his favourite
courtiers, to amuse himself, to the mosque near Shiraz, called Musalla;
and commanded that they should suspend the ring over the dome of Azad,
saying that the ring should be the property of him who could send an arrow
through it. It so befell that four hundred archers, who plied their bows
in his service, shot at the ring, and all missed. A stripling at play was
shooting arrows at random from a monastery, when the morning breeze
carried his shaft through the circle of the ring. The prize was bestowed
upon him, and he was loaded with gifts beyond calculation. The boy, after
this, burned his bow and arrows. They asked him why he did so; he
replied: ‘That my first glory may remain unchanged.’
At the tournaments held in the reign of Henry VII. (1494) a proclamation
was put forth ‘that hoo soo ever justith best in the justys roiall schall
have a ryng of gold, with a ruby of the value of a m{l} scuttes or under;
and hoo soo ever torneyeth the best, and fairyst accumplishit his strokkis
schall have a ryng of gold, with a diamant of like value.’
On November 9 (1494) John Peche received from the Ladie Margerete ‘the
kyngis oldeste doughter, a ryng of gold with a ruby.’
On the 11th, the Earl of Suffolk, Thomas Brandon, received as a reward for
his prowess in the lists ‘a ryng of gold with a rubee.’
On the third tournament (November 13) Sir Edward A. Borough, as victor,
received ‘a ryng of gold with a dyamant.’
The Earl of Essex, for his valour in this tournament, received ‘a ryng of
gold with an emerauld.’

CHAPTER IV.RINGS IN CONNECTION WITH ECCLESIASTICAL USAGES.
The ring has, for many ages, formed a part of ecclesiastical insignia. It
appears to have had a twofold purpose and signification, the one as a mark
of dignity and authority, the other symbolic of the mystical union between
the priesthood and the Church.
To commence with the head of the Romish hierarchy: that distinguished
authority on antiquarian topics, Mr. Octavius Morgan, M.A., F.R.S.,
F.S.A., &c., has contributed to the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xl. p. 392) a very
interesting account of ‘Episcopal and other Rings of Investiture;’ and,
since the publication of that paper, has kindly informed me that Mr.
Waterton states, from his own knowledge, that the ‘Fisherman’s Ring’ is
the Pope’s ring of investiture, and is placed on his finger immediately
after his election, before it is engraved. But if, as it sometimes
happens, the Pope-elect is not a bishop, he is consecrated prior to his
coronation as Supreme Pontiff, and receives the ring with the usual
formula, except that the consecrating cardinal kisses his hand after
investing him with the ring. ‘There is a ring which the Pontiff wears on
state occasions–the stone of which is an exquisitely fine cameo, cut in
bloodstone, of the head of Our Saviour–which is known to be more than
three hundred years old, and is, probably, a fine cinque-cento gem. This
descends from one Pope to another.
‘What is called the _Annulus Piscatoris_, or the “Fisherman’s Ring,” is
the Pope’s lesser seal, or signet, used for documents of minor
consequence, and the impression is usually made on red wax or stamped on
the paper; the Bulla being what may be termed the great seal, employed for
giving validity to instruments of greater importance, and the impression
of it is always on lead. The origin of the Fisherman’s Ring is obscure,
but it derives its name from a representation of St. Peter in a
fisherman’s boat of ancient form, which is engraved on it, and not from
any tradition that it ever belonged to St. Peter, as, from its English
name, is not uncommonly supposed. The Germans call it _Der Fischer-ring_,
which is “the Fisherman Ring,” whereas we, probably in our translation of
_Annulus Piscatoris_, have termed it the “Fisherman’s Ring,” seeming to
imply thereby that it had once belonged to “the Fisherman.” The figure of
St. Peter forms the centre.’
After the reign of Pope Calixtus the Third, the Ring of the Fisherman was
no longer used as the private seal of the Popes, but was always attached
to briefs.
On the death of Innocent the Tenth the name was cut out of the ring or
erased. At the decease of Pius the Sixth the usual ceremonies were not
observed, and the ring was not broken, as was the practice at the
elevation of each pontiff. Aimon, in his ‘Tableau de la Cour de Rome,’
says that after the Pope’s death ‘le Cardinal Camerlingue vient en habit
violet, accompagné des clercs de la chambre en habits noirs, reconnoître
le corps du Pape. Il l’appelle trois fois par son nom de baptême, et comme
il ne lui donne ni réponse, ni signe de vie, il fait dresser un acte sur
sa mort par les Protonotaires Apostoliques. Il prend du Maître de la
Chambre Apostolique, _l’anneau_ du Pêcheur, qui est le sceau du Pape,
_d’or_ massif, et du prix de cent écus. Il le fait mettre en pièces et
donne ces pièces aux Maîtres des Cérémonies à qui elles appartiennent. Le
Dataire et les Sécrétaires qui ont les autres sceaux du Pape défunt, sont
obligés de les porter au Cardinal Camerlingue, qui les fait rompre en
présence de l’Auditeur de la Chambre du Trésorier, et des Clercs
Apostoliques, et il n’est permis à aucun autre des Cardinaux d’assister à
cette fonction.’
When it was decided by the French in 1798 that the Pope was to be removed
to France, on February 18 in that year the Republican Haller, son of the
celebrated Swiss physician of that name, chose the moment when the Pontiff
was at dinner in the Vatican to announce to him the resolution of the
French Republic. He entered the apartment rudely, and, advancing to the
Pope, announced the object of his visit, and demanded the instant
surrender of the Papal treasures.
‘We have already given up all we possessed,’ replied the Pope calmly.
‘Not _all_,’ returned Haller, ‘you still wear two very rich rings; let me
have them.’
The Pope drew one from his finger: ‘I can give you,’ he said, ‘this one,
for it is indeed my own; take it: but the other is the Ring of the
Fisherman, and must descend to my successor.’
‘It will pass first to me, holy father,’ exclaimed Haller, ‘and if you do
not surrender it quietly it will be taken from you by force.’
To escape further insult the Fisherman’s Ring was given up, but as it was
found to be intrinsically of no value it was soon afterwards restored to
the Pontiff.
The ring of Pius the Ninth is of plain gold, weighing one and a half
ounces, and it was made from the gold which composed the Ring of the
Fisherman of Pope Gregory the Sixteenth.[49]
The Fisherman’s Ring is always in the custody of the Grand Papal
Chamberlain. It is taken to the Conclave, or Council of the Cardinals,
with the space left blank for the name; and as soon as a successful
scrutiny of votes for a new Pope has taken place, the newly-elected
Pontiff is declared, and conducted to the throne of St. Peter, where,
before the cardinals have rendered homage to their chief, the Grand
Chamberlain approaches, and, placing the Papal ring on the finger of the
new Pope, asks him what name he will take. On the reply of the Pontiff,
the ring is given to the first Master of the Ceremonies to have the name
engraved on it that has been assumed. The announcement of the pontifical
election is then made to the people from the balcony of the Papal palace.
Kissing the Pope’s ring as an act of reverent homage is a custom which has
descended to our own times. One of the important ceremonies at the opening
of the great Œcumenical Council at Rome (December 8, 1869) was that every
single primate, patriarch, bishop, and mitred abbot, who were present on
this solemn occasion at St. Peter’s, and who were to take part in the
Council, paused before Pius the Ninth, and, in an attitude of profound
reverence, kissed his ring. As high dignitaries they were exempted from
kissing the Pope’s toe, a condescension reserved for the laity and lower
clergy.
In Bishop Bale’s ‘Image of Both Churches’ occurs a curious passage on the
subject of episcopal rings: ‘Neyther regarde they to knele any more doune,
and to kisse their pontifical ryngs, which are of the same metall’ (_i.e._
fine gold).
It would seem that the Popes were formerly buried in their pontifical
habits and ornaments. In the ‘Journal’ of Burcard, Master of the
Ceremonies in the Pope’s chapel from Sixtus the Fourth to Julius the
Second, he mentions as having, by virtue of his office, thus clothed the
body of Sixtus the Fourth, and amongst other things a sapphire ring of the
value of three hundred ducats was placed on his finger, and so little
trust was placed in the honesty of those who came to see the body that
guards were placed to prevent the ring and other ornaments from being
stolen.[50]
In 1482 Cardinal d’Estouteville, Archbishop of Rouen, was buried with
great magnificence at Rome, where he died. The body of the prelate was
arrayed in the richest robes of cloth of gold, and his fingers were
covered with rings of the greatest rarity and beauty. The brilliancy of
the jewels (observes Dom Pommeraye in his ‘Lives of the Archbishops of
Rouen’) excited the cupidity of the canons of St. Mary Major at Rome,
where he was interred, insomuch that they threw themselves on the body,
and struggled with each other to get at the rings. The monks of St.
Augustine, who also attended on this occasion, pretended to be highly
scandalized at this profanation–‘peut-être,’ however, ‘pour avoir part au
butin’–and attempted on their part to seize the rings. In this unclerical
skirmish the body of the archbishop was entirely stripped of its gorgeous
trappings, and left naked, a piteous spectacle.
Matthew Paris informs us that archbishops, bishops, and abbots, with other
principals of the clergy, were buried in their pontificalibus; thus ‘they
prepared the body of Hubert, Archbishop of Canterbury, for the burial,
closing him in his robes, with his face uncovered, and a mitre put on his
head, with gloves upon his hands, _a ring on his finger_, and all the
other ornaments belonging to his office.’
In describing the finger-ring found in the grave of the Venerable Bede,
the writer of a brief account of Durham Cathedral adds: ‘No priest during
the reign of Catholicity was buried or enshrined without his ring.’ The
practice may have prevailed generally, as many instances of rings
recovered from the graves of ecclesiastics show, but it was more
particularly the usage of prelates. Martene (‘De Antiquis Ecclesiæ
Ritibus’) remarks: ‘Episcopus debet habere annulum, quia sponsus est.
Cæteri sacerdotes non, quia sponsi non sunt, sed amici sponsi, vel
vicarii.’
The bones of St. Dunstan were discovered in the time of William, fortieth
abbot of Glastonbury: a ring was on the finger-bone of this saint.
William, the twenty-second abbot of St. Alban’s Abbey, who died in 1235,
was buried in pontifical habits ‘with a ring on his finger.’
Richard de Gerbery, forty-fifth Bishop of Amiens, in the thirteenth
century, died in 1210, and was buried in the cathedral, in pontificalibus,
with mitre, ring, and ivory cross.
When the body of St. John of Beverley (died 721) was translated into a new
shrine, about the year 1037, a ring, among other articles, was found in
his coffin. We have a much earlier instance cited by Aringhi, that the
ring of St Caius (283-296) was found in his tomb: ‘intra sepulchrum tria
Diocletiani Imperatoris numismata, sub quo coronatus fuerat, et
Sanctissimi Pontificis annulus adinventatus est.’
A gold ring was found in the tomb of St. Birinus, Bishop of Dorchester,
who died in 640.
Mr. E. Waterton mentions a remarkable ring, set with fine opal, preserved
at Mayence Cathedral, where it was found with an enamelled crosier in the
tomb, as was supposed, of Archbishop Sigfroi III. (1249).
In the Londesborough Collection is the ring of Thierry, Bishop of Verdun
(who died in 1165), found in his tomb in 1829. It is of gold, with a
sapphire, an irregular oval with five capsular marks on the face; the
shank, two winged dragons, between the heads of which is the inscription
AVE MARIA GRATIA. This ring was procured in exchange from the collection
of M. Failly, Inspector of Customs, at Lyons in 1848.
Mr. Octavius Morgan remarks: ‘It is difficult to reconcile the practice of
returning the ring to the Emperor’ (to which I have in this chapter
alluded) ‘with that of interring the bishop with his ring on his finger;
but it is probable that, when in the twelfth century the Emperor ceded to
the Popes the right of investiture by the ring the sending back the ring
was dispensed with; and, being the property of the Church, and not of the
Emperor, the bishop was allowed to be interred with his ring as an emblem
of his dignity.’
The Rev. C. W. King remarks that the custom of burying ecclesiastics with
all their official insignia appears to have lasted far down into the
Middle Ages; for, amongst the amusing adventures of Andreuccio da Perugia,
related by Boccaccio, he, when reduced to despair, joins some thieves in
plundering the tomb of the Archbishop of Naples, interred the previous day
in all his precious vestments, and with a ring on his finger valued at
five hundred scudi. Two parties of plunderers, headed by a priest of the
cathedral, visit the tomb in succession, and almost at the same time; to
which circumstance Andreuccio owes his escape from a horrible death, and
returns home in possession of the ring, which more than makes up for all
his losses.
The Rev. C. W. King considers it probable that this common practice of
plundering the tombs, gave origin to the huge rings of gilt metal, which
bear the titles, or coats of arms, of some pope or bishop.
On the subject of pontifical rings of an ordinary character, I may observe
that they are found in several collections, usually of brass or copper
gilt.
Benvenuto Cellini, in his ‘Memoirs,’ mentions a magnificent diamond as
having been presented to Pope Paul the Third by the Emperor Charles the
Fifth on his entry into Rome (1536), for which he was desired to make a
ring, and succeeded in giving the diamond a tint which surpassed anything
yet done.
In the collection of Thomas Windus, Esq., F.S.A., is a ring bearing the
arms of Pope Pius II. of the family of Piccolomini, the Papal tiara, and
inscription, ‘Papa Pio.’ The ring is of brass, thickly gilt; the stone
topaz: on the sides are the four beasts of the ‘Revelation.’
In the Braybrooke Collection is the ring of Pope Boniface, from whose tomb
it was taken during the popular insurrection at Rome, 1849. It is large
and of gilt bronze, set with a large amethyst, cut into facets. It is of
the usual type of Papal rings, and massive; on one side of the broad shank
is engraved the triple crown, with bands for tying it, extending until
they are met by the cords attached to the keys, which appear on the other
side. The sides of the box-setting are square for an inch below the stone,
and on them are the emblems of the four Evangelists in high relief: all
these are winged.
In the Waterton Collection at the South Kensington Museum are some
remarkably fine specimens of bronze-gilt Papal rings of the fifteenth
century, very massive and in excellent condition. Most of these have the
symbols of the four Evangelists, the triple crown, and crossed keys.
At a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries in November, 1858, Octavius
Morgan, Esq., F.R.S., F.S.A., exhibited a Papal ring of great interest,
massive, and of copper-gilt, set with blue glass. At the angles were the
symbols of the four Evangelists in relief; on the hoop was inscribed
PAVLVS PP SECNDVS (Paulus Papa Secundus). At the sides were two shields;
one of them bearing three fleurs-de-lys, and ensigned with an open crown,
probably the arms of France; the other charged with a lion debruised by a
bend, being the arms of the family of Barbo of Venice, to which Paul II.
belonged. In the upper part of this shield was a small Papal tiara, which
might have been placed there for want of room above, or might have been
adopted by the Pope’s relation, Marco Barbo, made by him a cardinal in
1464, and who died 1490.
Mr. Morgan had received this interesting addition to his collection from
Venice.
In the Londesborough Collection is a fine specimen of a Papal ring. The
crossed keys surmount a coat of arms on one side of the ring; the keys
alone appear on the opposite side; foliated ornament fills the space
above the circlet on either side. This ring is set with a large crystal.
At the suppression of the monasteries there were found in Worcester
Cathedral ‘four pontifical rings of gold, with precious stones’ At the
same period, amongst the plate and jewels in Winchester Cathedral was a
‘pontyfycall ryng of silvare and gilt, with counterfeitt stones.’ At St.
Augustine’s Church at Canterbury were three pontifical rings with precious
stones, and one of silver gilt; at St. Swithin’s Church at Winchester,
four pontifical rings with precious stones.
The earliest document with a certain date in which mention is made of a
bishop’s ring is that usually cited in the 28th canon of the Council of
Toledo, held in 633. The ring was of gold and jewelled, but at this
Council it was ordained that the ring of a prelate reinstated in his
diocese, after an unjust deposition, should be delivered to him, which was
merely confirming a ceremony already ancient in the confirmation of
bishops, which may be traced to the fourth century.
In the consecration of bishops in the Anglo-Saxon Church, the hands and
head were anointed with oil, the crosier delivered into his hands, and the
ring placed on his finger; each ceremony being accompanied with a prayer.
‘There is, however,’ remarks Mr. Octavius Morgan (‘Archæologia,’ vol.
xxxvi. part ii. p. 373), ‘another authority, at least contemporary with
the Toledo Council, if not of earlier date. St. Isidor, Bishop of Seville,
who died A.D. 636, in his work ‘De Ecclesiasticis Officines’ (lib. ii.
cap. 5), when writing on the episcopal dignity, informs us that the staff
and ring were given to the bishop on his consecration, and mentions the
twofold purpose and signification of the ring, but does not tell us from
what source these insignia were derived.’[51]
That the episcopal ring, from the earliest times, was considered a symbol
of sacerdotal authority, we have many instances. In the ‘Continuation of
the History of Simeon of Durham’ we are told that Bishop Ralph (1099)
having been inveigled into a boat and his life in danger, he drew the ring
which he wore from off his finger, and his notary took his seal, and they
cast them into the river, being apprehensive that, as these were well
known everywhere throughout England, the enemy would prepare deceitful
writs by their means.
The same bishop, a month before his decease in 1128, directed that he
should be carried into the church, opposite the altar, there to make
confession of his sins. Placing a ring upon the altar he thereby restored
to the church everything of which he had deprived it, and this restitution
he confirmed by charter and seal, which are still preserved in the
treasury of the Dean and Chapter of Durham. To the charter was also
attached the episcopal gold ring (which is no longer there). The charter
states that ‘he has surrendered to the Lord St. Cuthbert and his monks
whatsoever he had taken from them after he came to the bishopric,’ &c.,
‘restoring them by (placing) a ring upon the altar,’ &c.
Thomas à Becket, when at Rome in 1166, during his quarrel with Henry II.,
solemnly resigned, in the presence of the Papal Court, his episcopal ring
into the hands of Pope Alexander, whom he exhorted to name a fitting
successor.
In the History of the Archbishops of Canterbury, by Gervase, we read that
in 1179, Godfrey, Bishop-elect of St. Asaph’s, resigned his bishopric by
surrendering his ring.
An ancient custom in the Archbishopric of Rouen was that the body of the
deceased prelate, before being interred in the cathedral, was carried to
the church of St. Ouen (at Rouen), where it remained exposed a whole day.
The dean of the cathedral, in committing the body to the charge of the
Abbot of St. Ouen, said ‘Ecce,’ to which the latter replied ‘Est hic.’
Then the dean gave the Archbishop’s ring to the abbot, at the same time
placing his hand in the coffin of the defunct, and saying: ‘You gave it to
him living; behold he is dead,’ alluding to the custom of the Archbishops
of Rouen being consecrated in the church of St. Ouen.
Mr. Waterton remarks ‘that in 511, the Council of Orleans makes mention of
the rescript of Clodovicus, wherein he promises to leave certain captives
at the disposition of the Gallican bishops, “si vestras epistolas de
_annulo vestro_ signatas sic ad nos dirigatis.”’ The same eminent
antiquarian states that ‘prior to the eleventh century, many, if not all,
of the episcopal rings were signets; for before that time large official
seals were not in general use. Each bishop seems to have chosen the
subject to be engraved on his ring, at pleasure. St. Augustine, in one of
his letters, mentions that he sealed it with his ring, “qui exprimit
faciem hominis attendentis in latus.” In writing to Apollinaris, Bishop of
Valence, Clodovicus begs him to send the seal, or signet (_signatorum_),
which he had promised, made in such a way “ut annulo ferreo et admodum
tenui, velut concurrentibus in se delphinulis concludendo, sigili duplicis
forma geminis cardinalis inseratur.” And, referring to the subject to be
engraved on the bezel, he adds, “si quæras quid insculpendum sigillo,
signo monogrammatis mei per gyram scripti nominis legatur indicio.”’
In the early days of Christianity bishops sealed with their rings the
profession of faith which the neophytes made in writing. They also sealed
their pastoral letters. Ebregislaus, Bishop of Meaux, in 660, wore on his
ring an intaglio, representing St. Paul, the first hermit, on his knees
before the crucifix, and above his head, a crow, by which he was
miraculously fed.
In conformity with a decree of St. Sergius I. (687-701), the bishops of
France and Spain used to seal up the baptismal fonts with their rings from
the beginning of Lent to Holy Saturday.
From ancient documents it would appear that bishops sometimes called their
rings ‘annuli ecclesiæ.’ David, Bishop of Benevento, in the time of
Charlemagne, issued a mandate, ending as follows: ‘annulo sanctæ nostræ
ecclesiæ firmavivus roborandum.’ In 862, Rathbodus, Bishop of Treves,
writes thus: ‘Hanc epistolam Græcis litteris, hinc, inde, munire
decrevimus, et annulo ecclesiæ nostræ bullare censuimus.’ In 985 Pope John
XVI. sealed with his ring the confirmation of the decree made by the
Council of Mayence, in favour of the monks of Corvey, in Saxony.
These quotations are sufficient to prove that until the 11th century the
bishops used their rings as signets; but we must not infer that every
episcopal ring was a signet. It is probable that each bishop had a large
jewelled ring to use when pontificating.
Of the importance attached to the possession of the episcopal ring we are
told that Gundulf, the good Bishop of Rochester, in his last days
distributed all his goods to the poor, even to his shoes, and bequeathed
his rich vestments to the cathedral. There was only one ornament with
which he could not part, that was the episcopal ring, and he confided this
to the care of his attendants, intending, probably, that it should be
delivered to his successor. Ralph, who had lately been elected Abbot of
Battle, had formerly been Prior of Rochester, and had been deservedly
popular. The monks were anxious that he should be the successor of
Gundulf, and were prepared to elect him, if they could obtain the consent
of the archbishop. If to the Abbot of Battle Gundulf bequeathed or
resigned the episcopal ring, it might be produced as an indication of
Gundulf’s wish that Ralph, of Battle Abbey, should succeed him. A
suggestion to this effect was made to the old bishop, who said curtly: ‘He
is a monk, what has he to do with an episcopal ring?’ He was, probably,
offended at the ambition of the ex-prior of Rochester, who ought to have
been contented with his newly-acquired dignity at Battle Abbey. Soon
after this, another Ralph made his appearance at the priory, Ralph of
Seez, who afterwards became Archbishop of Canterbury. Having been ejected
from his monastery by violence, he came to England, and was received
everywhere with hearty regard, on account of his virtues and
accomplishments. Hearing of Gundulf’s illness, he hastened to Rochester,
to console his old friend on the bed of sickness. Ralph was obliged to
leave Rochester after a short visit, but on quitting his friend he was
recalled, and Gundulf, demanding of his attendant the episcopal ring,
placed it as a parting gift in the hand of Ralph of Seez, who suggested it
might be better disposed of to one of Gundulf’s episcopal friends, since
it did not pertain to an abbot to wear a ring. He reminded the bishop
that, though not living a monk, still a monk he was. ‘Take it,
nevertheless,’ said the bishop, ‘you may want it some day.’
The possession of this ring reconciled the monks to the appointment of
Ralph of Seez as successor of Gundulf to the bishopric of Rochester, as
they regarded the donation in the light of a prophecy.
‘Before,’ says Mr. Waterton, ‘receiving the pastoral staff and mitre, the
bishop-elect is invested by the consecrating bishop with the pontifical
ring. The formula seems to have varied at different times, the most
ancient one, contained in the Sacramental of St. Gregory, 590, is this:
“Accipe annulum discretionis et honoris, fidei signum, et quæ signanda
sunt signes, et quæ aperienda sunt prodas, quæ liganda sunt liges, quæ
solvenda sunt solvas, atque credentibus per fidem baptismatis, lapsis
autem sed pœnitentibus per mysterium reconciliationis januas regni
cœlestis aperias; cunctis vero de thesauro dominico ad æternam salutem
hominibus, consolatus gratiâ Domini nostri Jesu Christi.”
‘Another form, of a later date, has the above, with the following
addition:–“Memor sponsionis et desponsationis ecclesiasticæ et
dilectionis Domini Dei tui, in die quâ assecutus es hunc honorem, cave ne
obliviscaris illius.”
‘The ancient Ordo Romanus contains a formula couched in more elegant
words: “Accipe annulum pontificalis honoris, ut sis fidei integritate ante
omnia munitus, misericordiæ operibus insistens, infirmis compatiens,
benevolentibus congaudens, aliena damna propria deputans, de alienis
gaudiis tanquam de propriis exultans.”
‘The formula,’ continues Mr. E. Waterton, ‘seems to have varied at
different times; that contained in the pontifical of Ecgberht, Archbishop
of York, is as follows: “Accipe annulum pontificalis honoris ut sis fidei
integritate munitus.” The Anglo-Saxon pontifical at Rouen, and that of St.
Dunstan at Paris, both give the following: “Accipe ergo annulum
discretionis et honoris, fidei signum, et quæ signanda sunt signes, et quæ
aperienda sunt prodas.”’
In the eleventh and twelfth centuries the ring, as a part of
ecclesiastical investiture, was a fruitful subject of discord between the
Emperors and the Popes, until 1123, the Emperor Henry the Fifth, alarmed
by the threats of the Pontiff, ceded the right to Calixtus II., from which
time the rings were sent to the bishops-elect from the Pope–a practice
continued in the Roman Catholic hierarchy to the present time. In
preceding ages, however, monarchs were not so yielding. In the romance of
‘King Athelstan,’ the sovereign says to an offending archbishop:–
Lay down thy cross and thy staff,
The myter and the ryng that I to thee gaff,
Out of my land thou flee.
Cardinals on their creation receive a ring in which is usually a
sapphire. Wolsey was raised to this dignity in 1515, the Pope having
forwarded with the hat (an unusual thing to be sent out of Rome) a ring of
more than ordinary value.
Cardinals wear their rings at all times, but on Good Friday they lay them
aside, as a sign of the mourning in which the Church is placed for her
Spouse. At the recent installation of cardinals (September 1875) the
venerable Pontiff presented each dignitary with a gold ring set with a
sapphire.
In 1191 the fashion of the episcopal ring was definitively settled by
Innocent III., who ordained that it should be of gold, solid, and set with
a precious stone, on which nothing was to be cut; previous to this,
bishops’ rings were not restricted to any special material or design. ‘In
the thirteenth century,’ remarks Mr. E. Waterton, ‘many of the episcopal
rings were of very rude fashion, frequently in almost literal conformity
with the rescript of Innocent III., without regard to shape or elegance.
The stone was set just as it was found, merely having the surface
polished, and the shape of the bezel was adapted to the gem. There are
proofs that cameos were worn in episcopal rings. In the list of rings and
precious stones collected by Henry III. for the shrine of St. Edward, in
Westminster Abbey, there is enumerated: “j _chamah_ in uno annulo
pontificali.” We know that during the Middle Ages the glyptic art had
declined very much, and that from their fancied assimilation antique gems
were occasionally used for devout subjects. Thus the monks of Durham
converted an antique intaglio of Jupiter Tonans into the ‘caput Sancti
Oswaldi.’
During the latter part of the thirteenth century the large episcopal rings
were enriched by the addition of previous stones, which were set around
the principal one. Thus, in the ‘Wardrobe Book’ there is the following
entry: ‘Annulus auri cum quatuor rubettis magnis qui fuit Fratris J. de
Peccham, nuper Cantuariensis Archiepiscopi. He died in 1292.’
Episcopal rings were usually set with sapphires, probably from a popular
belief that this precious stone had the power of cooling love; owing,
perhaps, to the coldness of its touch, due to its density. The Rev. C. W.
King, however, gives as a reason for the choice of the sapphire that,
besides its supposed sympathy with the heavens, mentioned by Solinus, and
its connexion with the god of day, Apollo, the violet colour agrees with
the vestments appropriated to the priestly office.
An episcopal ring, with gold and a sapphire, said to have belonged to St.
Loup, is in the treasury of the Cathedral of Sens, and is, probably, of
the Carlovingian period.
‘Mention occurs,’ remarks Mr. E. Waterton, ‘of episcopal rings being set
with the balass-ruby, the emerald, the topaz, the turquoise, the
chalcedony, and, as accessories, pearls and garnets. Sometimes these gems
were of great value.’ The Rev. C. W. King thinks it probable that when
mediæval rings occur, set with a ruby instead of a sapphire, they belong
to bishops who were at the same time cardinals. At the disgraceful seizure
of Archbishop Cranmer’s effects, in 1553, we find mentioned, among the
articles of considerable value taken from his house at Battersea: ‘six or
seven rings of fine gold, with stones in them, whereof were three fine
blue sapphires of the best; an emerald, very fine; a good turquoise and a
diamond.’
At the degradation of a bishop in former times, the reasons were given in
a solemn assembly, and judgment pronounced, the mitre was removed from his
head, and the pontifical ring drawn off his finger, as having outraged the
Church.
With regard to the finger on which the episcopal ring is worn, a
correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. v., first series, p. 114),
remarks that ‘all who wear rings, _ex officio_, wear them on the third
finger of the right hand. Cardinals, bishops, abbots, doctors, &c., do
this for the reason that it is the first vacant finger. The thumb and the
first two fingers have always been reserved as symbols of the Three
Persons of the Holy Trinity. When a bishop gives his blessing he blesses
with the thumb and two first fingers. Our brasses, with sepulchral slabs,
bear witness to this fact.’
A French writer observes that formerly the episcopal ring was worn on the
fore-finger, but as, for the celebration of the holy mysteries, bishops
were obliged to place it on the _fourth_ finger, the custom prevailed of
carrying it thus.
Mr. E. Waterton gives his explanation thus, and there could be no better
authority: ‘It appears that bishops formerly wore their rings on the index
of their right hand, being the middle one of the three fingers which they
extend when they are giving their blessing, but when celebrating mass they
passed the ring on to the annular. They wore it on the index as the
fore-finger was indicative of silence, that they ought to communicate the
divine mysteries only to the worthy. Gregory IV., in 827, ordered that the
episcopal ring should not be worn on the left, but on the right hand, as
it was more distinguished (_nobile_) and was the hand with which the
blessing was imparted.’[52]
The episcopal ring is now always worn on the annular finger of the right
hand, and bishops never wear more than one. In the pictures of the early
Italian masters, however, and on sepulchral effigies, bishops are
represented with many rings, some of which are not unfrequently on the
second joint of the fingers. A thumb-ring is often seen; one is
represented (p. 219) belonging to a late Dean of St. Patrick’s, the sketch
of which was made by the late Mr. Fairholt, when it was in the possession
of Mr. Huxtable, F.S.A., in 1847. It is of bronze, thickly gilt, and set
with a crystal. In Raffaelle’s portrait of Julius II. the Pope is
represented as wearing six rings. Certain it is, as late as the year 1516,
the Popes occasionally wore two or more rings.
As the large pontifical ring was of a size sufficient to enable the bishop
to pass it over the silk glove which he wears when pontificating, a
smaller, or guard ring, was used to keep it on the finger.
In the Waterton Collection is a very pale gold episcopal ring, with oblong
hexagonal bezel, set with a pale cabochon sapphire, and the hoop divided
into square compartments chased with rosettes, and finished on the
shoulders with monsters’ heads. French, of the early part of the fifteenth
century.
In the Anglo-Saxon annals, an archbishop bequeaths a ring in his will, and
a king sends a golden ring, enriched with a precious stone, as a present
to a bishop. So great was the extravagance among the clergy for these
ornaments that Elfric, in his ‘canons,’ found it necessary to exhort the
ecclesiastics ‘not to be proud with their rings.’ In the mediæval romances
we are told that at the marriage of Sir Degrevant, there came
Erchebyschopbz with ryng
Mo than fiftene.
In the effigy of Bishop Oldham (died 1519), in Exeter Cathedral, the
uplifted hands of the recumbent figure, which are pressed together, are
adorned with no less than seven large rings on the fingers, three being on
the right, and four on the left hand. In addition to these, a single
signet-ring of extraordinary size is represented as worn over both the
thumbs.
But the number of these rings is exceeded by far in the case of the arm of
St. Blaize, exhibited in the Cathedral of Brunswick, on the fingers of
which are no less than _fourteen_ rings. This relic was brought from
Palestine by Henry the Lion in the eleventh century, and is encased in
silver.
In a miniature in the ‘Heures d’Anne de Bretagne’ (1500), representing St.
Nicholas and the miracle of the three children, the bishop is represented
with one hand extended in the act of blessing, with a large ring over two
fingers. A ring is on one of the fingers of the other hand. In paintings
of the early bishops of the Church they are figured with gloves having the
ruby on the back of the hand, and the official ring on the fore-finger of
the right hand sometimes, but not always, introduced.
Dart, in his ‘History of Canterbury,’ gives an inventory of the _Ornamenta
Ecclesiastica_ taken in 1315. One of the _annuli pontificales_ was of
elaborate character, and is thus described: ‘Annulus quadratus magnus cum
smaragdine oblongo, et quatuor pramis, et quatuor garnettis.’ The others
had sapphires surrounded by smaller gems. One of these rings was set ‘cum
sapphiro nigro in quatuor cramponibus ex omne parte discoperto.’
In the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. ii., 1854) is an interesting account
by the late Mr. Albert Way, of the ecclesiastical mortuary or
corse-present: ‘Whether this was originally a composition for offerings
omitted, or in the nature of a payment for sepulture, frequently
consisted, amongst other things of a ring. Thus in the archdeaconry of
Chester, on the death of every priest, his best signet, or ring, with
various other objects belonging to the bishop as being the archdeacon.’
The King, in like manner, on the death of every archbishop and bishop, was
entitled to a gold ring with other things. On the death of some abbots the
King claimed the like. These rights existed in the reign of Edward I. and
probably earlier. In the province of Canterbury the second-best ring of
the bishop accompanied the seals, which, there is reason to think, were
given up to their metropolitans. In 1310, on the death of Robert Orford,
Bishop of Ely, his pontifical ring not having been delivered up in due
course, a mandate was issued by Archbishop Winchelsey, directed to Richard
de Oteringham, then administering the spiritualities of the vacant see, to
obtain possession of the ring, which appeared to have been kept back by
two of the monks of Ely. The mandate recites all the circumstances which
had occurred, describing the ring as ‘annulum qui pontificalis vulgariter
appellatur, qui de jure et consuetudine nostre ecclesie Cantuariensis ad
nos dignoscitur pertinere.’ It was alleged by the monks of Ely that the
deceased prelate had made a gift of this ring in his lifetime to the Prior
and Convent, but that, having no other pontifical ring, he had retained it
for his own use until his death. The Prior and Convent then had possession
of the ring, which they forthwith caused to be affixed to the shrine of
St. Ealburga. The two monks incurred the penalty of excommunication; the
Archbishop forthwith cited the Prior and Convent to appear before him, and
there can be little doubt that the ring was ultimately delivered up. The
details of this curious transaction are related in Archbishop
Winchelsey’s Register, and may be seen in Wilkins’s ‘Concilia,’ vol. ii.
p. 403.
In regard to two of the sees in Wales, St. Asaph and Bangor, the claim
extended to the palfry with bridle and saddle, the _capa pluvialis_, or
riding-cloak, and the hat used by the deceased prelate. The seals and best
ring were likewise demanded, as in the case of the other bishops of the
Principality, and of the province of Canterbury in general. On the decease
of Anian, Bishop of Bangor, in 1327, the metropolitan see being at that
time vacant, the Prior of Christ Church claimed the ring, seals, and other
effects, which had not been rendered up to him in due course. The
following entry appears on this occasion: ‘De annulo et sigilis Episcopi
Bangorensis restituendis.–Magister Kenewricus Canonicus Assavensis,
officialis noster sede Bangorensi vacante, habet literam de annulo secundo
meliori et omnibus sigillis bone memorie domini Aniani Episcopi
Bangorensis, ac etiam de aliis bonis nobis et ecclesie nostre Cantuarien
de jure et consuetudine antiqua et approbata debitis post mortem
cujuslibet Episcopi Bangorensis, que de Magistro Madoco Archidiacono
Angles’ executore testimenti dicti domini Aniani recepit, nobis absque
more majoris dispendio apud Cantuariam transmittendis necnon de omnibus
aliis bonis que ad manus suas sede Bangorensi vacante vel plena
devenerunt; et ad certificandum nos infra xx dies post recepcionem
presentium quod super premissis duxerit faciendis. Dated at Canterbury,
July 15, 1328.’
These instructions from the Prior to his official seem to have produced no
effect. A letter is found subsequently in the same register (K. 12, f.
158, v{o}), addressed from Mayfield by Simon Mepham, Archbishop of
Canterbury, to Henry Gower, Bishop of St. David’s, stating the demand of
the Prior had not been satisfied, and requiring him to obtain restitution
of the seals and ring which had belonged to the deceased prelate. The
matter appears accordingly to have been adjusted without delay, since a
formal acquittance is found in the same volume, dated at Canterbury,
February 3, 1328.
A similar occurrence is recorded in the register on the decease of David
Martyn, Bishop of St. David’s, March 9, 1328. His executors had delivered
the seals and ring to Master Edmund de Mepham, who had departed this life;
and a letter is found from Henry de Eastry, Prior of Christ Church, to
Robert Leveye, Edmund’s executor, requesting him to render up these
objects to which the Prior was entitled.
The Wardrobe Books and other records would doubtless show that the rights
of the Crown were constantly enforced on the decease of archbishops and
bishops with no less jealous vigilance than those of the Church of
Canterbury. In the Wardrobe Book of 28th Edward I., for instance, amongst
various articles mention is made of the gold ring of William de Hothum,
Archbishop of Dublin, who died in 1298, set with a sapphire, as also of
many silver _ciphi_ and gold rings set with various gems, delivered to the
King on the decease of several other prelates at that period. In the same
record are to be found the gold rings of the abbots of Glastonbury, St.
Alban’s, and Abingdon, lately deceased, in custody of the King’s wardrobe.
It is deserving of remark that at an earlier period no claim, as regarded
the pontifical ring, appears to have been acknowledged by the Bishops of
Rochester.
Mr. Edmund Waterton, in the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. xx. pp. 235 _et
seq._), gives a list of a few of the authentic episcopal rings now in
existence in England.
The ring of Seffrid, Bishop of Winchester, who died in 1151. This is most
curious, for it is set with a gnostic gem, representing the figure with
the head of a cock. It is a strange subject for the ring of a bishop.
A massive gold ring set with a sapphire, found in a tomb on the thumb of
the skeleton of a bishop, supposed to be Hilary, Bishop of Chichester, who
died in 1169, together with a silver chalice, and paten, and a pastoral
staff.
A gold ring with an octagonal sapphire, set _à griffes_, and with four
small emeralds in the corners. This was found in a stone coffin on which
was inscribed EPISCOPUS, and which also contained some remains of
vestments, and a pastoral staff.
These three rings belong to the Dean and Chapter of Chichester.
Gold ring set with a ruby, and found in York Minster in the tomb of
Archbishop Sewall, who died 1258.
A gold ring, also set with a ruby, found in the tomb of Archbishop
Greenfield, who died 1315.
A gold ring, the stone of which has fallen out and which bears on the
inside the _chançon_ ‘×honnor×et×joye×,’ found in the tomb of Archbishop
Bowett, who died in 1423.
The three last rings are preserved in York Minster.
A large gold ring set with an irregular oval sapphire secured by four
grips in the form of fleurs-de-lys. The stone is pierced longitudinally.
This was found in Winchester Cathedral, and may be assigned to the
thirteenth century.
The ring of William of Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, died 1404. A massive
plain gold ring, set with a sapphire. By his will he bequeathed to his
successor in the Bishopric of Winchester, his best book, _De Officio
Pontificali_, his best missal, and his larger gold pontifical ring, set
with a sapphire, and surrounded with four balass-rubies.
A gold ring found in the tomb of Bishop Gardiner, in Winchester Cathedral
(died 1555). It is set with an oval _plasma_ intaglio of the head of
Minerva; on the shoulders of the hoop are two square facetted ornaments,
each set with five small rubies _en cabochon_.
These rings belong to the Dean and Chapter of Winchester Cathedral.
A massive gold ring set with a sapphire. The shoulders are ornamented with
flowers, and inside is the _chançon_ ‘en : bon : an.’ Found in the tomb
of John Stanbery, Bishop of Hereford, 1452.
A gold ring set with an uncut ruby, and which has on either shoulder a Tau
cross, filled in with green enamel, and a bell appended. Within is the
inscription enamelled ‘Ave Maria.’ Found in the tomb of Richard Mayhew, or
Mayo, Bishop of Hereford, 1504.
These rings were found in Hereford Cathedral. They are figured in the
‘Archæologia’ (vol. xxxi. p. 249).
A massive gold ring set with a sapphire, _en cabochon_. This was found on
one of the fingers of St. Cuthbert, when his coffin was opened by the
visitors in 1537. It came into the possession of Thomas Watson, the
Catholic Dean appointed on the dismissal of Robert Horne, the Protestant
Dean, in 1553. Dean Watson gave the ring to Sir Thomas Hare, who gave it
to Antony Brown, created Viscount Montague, by Queen Mary, in 1554. He
gave it to Dr. Richard Smith, Bishop of Calcedon, _in partibus_, and Vicar
Apostolic of the Northern District, whom he had for a long time sheltered
from the persecution. Bishop Smith gave the ring to the monastery of the
English Canonesses of St. Augustine at Paris; and it is now preserved at
St. Cuthbert’s College, Ushaw, near Durham. The ring is evidently not one
worn by the sainted bishop during his lifetime. It does not appear to have
been of an earlier date than the fourteenth century; and a gold ring, set
with a sapphire, and almost its counterpart, which was found at Flodden,
is now in the British Museum. Probably the ring had belonged to one of the
bishops of Durham, and had been offered to the shrine of St. Cuthbert, and
placed on a finger of the corpse on some occasion when the shrine was
opened. The authentication of the ring simply states the fact that it was
found on the hand of St. Cuthbert in 1537.
The ring of Arnulphus, consecrated Bishop of Metz in 614, is stated to be
preserved in the treasury of the cathedral of that city. It is believed to
be of an earlier date than the fourth century, and it is set with an
opaque milk-white cornelian, engraved with the sacred symbol of the fish.
In addition to these examples are two other French episcopal rings. One is
that of Gerard, Bishop of Limoges, who died in 1022. Didron thus describes
it: ‘Cet anneau est en or massif; il pese 14 gram. 193 m.; aucune
pierrerie ne le decore. La tête de l’anneau, ou chaton, est formée de
quatre fleurs trilobées opposées par la base sur lesquelles courent de
légers filets d’email bleu.’
In August 1763 the remains of Thomas de Bitton, Bishop of Exeter from 1293
to 1307 were discovered in the cathedral of that city. The skeleton was
nearly entire, and among the dust in the coffin a gold ring was found and
a large sapphire set in it. This ring and a chalice recovered at the same
time are preserved within a case in the chapter-house of the cathedral.
The following extracts from the Wardrobe Book of 28th Edward I. (A.D.
1299-1360), relating to episcopal rings, are of interest:–
‘Jocalia remanencia in fine anni 27.
‘Annulus auri cum sapphiro qui fuit fratris Willelmi quondam Dublin’
archiepiscopi defuncti.
‘Jocalia remanencia in fine anni 27 de jocalibus Regi datis, et post
decessum prælatorum Regis restitutis anno 25.
‘Annulus auri cum sapphiro crescenti qui fuit N. quondam Sarum episcopi
defuncti.
‘Annulus, auri cum rubetto perforato qui fuit Roberti Coventr’ et
Lichfield’ episcopi defuncti.
‘Jocalia remanencia in fine anni 27 de jocalibus Regi datis et post
decessum prælatorum Regis restitutis. Annulus auri cum sapphiro qui fuit
J. Ebor’ archiepiscopi defuncti anno 24.
‘Jocalia remanencia in fine anni, 27 de jocalibus receptis de venerabili
Patre Will’ Bathon’ et Wellen’ episcopo.
‘Tres annuli auri cum rubettis.
‘Unus annulus auri cum ameraudâ.
‘Unus annulus auri cum topacio (chrysolite).
‘Unus annulus auri cum pereditis (topaz).’
The _Jocalia Sancti Thomæ_, which is given by Dart in his history of
Canterbury Cathedral, are as follows:–
‘Annulus pontificalis magnus cum rubino rotundo in medio:
‘_Item._ Annulus magnus cum sapphiro nigro qui vocatur lup.
‘_Item._ Annulus cum parvo sapphiro nigro qui vocatur lup.
‘_Item._ Annulus cum sapphiro quadrato aquoso.
‘_Item._ Annulus cum lapide oblongo qui vocatur turkoyse.
‘_Item._ Annulus unus cum viridi cornelino sculpto rotundo.
‘_Item._ Annulus parvus cum smaragdine triangulato.
‘_Item._ Annulus unus cum chalcedonio oblongo.’
The term _lup_ may signify _en cabochon_, uncut.
In 1867 Mr. Binns exhibited a gold episcopal ring, at a meeting of the
Society of Antiquaries, which he obtained at the shop of a jeweller at
Worcester, and supposed to be the ring of Walter de Cantilupe, who
presided over the see of Worcester from 1236 to 1266. In the
‘Archæologia’ (vol. xx. p. 556) is figured an amethyst ring, which was
discovered at Evesham Abbey, on the finger of the skeleton of Henry of
Worcester, abbot of that house, 1256-1263.
In the possession of the Dean and Chapter of Wells is a fine massive
episcopal ring of gold, the date supposed to be the commencement of the
twelfth century. It has a solid projecting bezel, set with an
irregularly-shaped ruby, polished on the surface and pierced
longitudinally–an oriental stone which has been used as a pendant.
At the Loan Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South
Kensington Museum, in 1872, Mr. R. H. Soden Smith contributed, amongst his
fine collection of 140 finger-rings, a series of seven gold episcopal
rings of the pointed or stirrup-shaped type; these are mostly set with
sapphires, rudely shaped and polished. Date from the 13th and 14th
centuries.
This engraving represents a gold episcopal ring, in the Londesborough
Collection, with sapphire. French work of the thirteenth century.
In the Royal Irish Academy is a large episcopal ring, but, of
comparatively modern date. It is the largest ring in the collection, and
had originally held a very fine amethyst, which was removed by Dean
Dawson, when the ring was in his possession, and a piece of glass inserted
in its stead.
In the Waterton Collection is one of the finest of mediæval gold episcopal
rings, obtained at Milan. It has been reset with an amethyst, the
original stone, stated to have been a valuable sapphire, having been
removed. No date is assigned to it.
Abbots were invested with the ring. Lawrence, seventeenth Abbot of
Westminster, is said to have been the first of that dignity who obtained
from the Pope (Alexander III.) the privilege of using the mitre, ring, and
gloves. He died in 1167, and was represented on his monument with a mitre,
ring, and staff. In 1048, Wulgate, twelfth Abbot of Croyland, received the
crosier and _ring_ from the _king_. The consecration of an abbot was
similar, in most respects, to the episcopal ceremony. The abbot received
from the bishop, or whoever was appointed to officiate, the insignia of
his ecclesiastical dignity.
The privilege of the mitre, pontifical ring, &c., was conceded to the
abbots of St. Denis, in France, about the year 1177 by Alexander III.
Jocelyn of Brakelond, in his ‘Chronicles of St. Edmundsbury’ (twelfth
century), informs us that Sampson was inaugurated abbot of that monastery
in 1182, by the Bishop of Winchester, who placed the mitre on his head,
and the ring on his finger, saying: ‘This is the dignity of the abbots of
St. Edmund; my experience early taught me this.’
In the reception of novices into the Roman Catholic sisterhood, one of the
ceremonies performed was the presentation of a ring blessed by the bishop,
usually of gold with a sapphire. After the benediction of the veil, the
ring, and the crown, the novices receive the first as a mark of renouncing
the world; the ring, by which they are married to the Son of God, and the
crown, as a type of that prepared for them in heaven. The origin of this
custom of espousals to Christ dates from a very remote period. ‘We meet,’
remarks Lingard, in his ‘History and Antiquities of the Anglo-Saxon
Church,’ ‘for more than a thousand years after the first preaching of
Christianity, with females who, to speak the language of our ancestors,
had wedded themselves to God.’
On one of four rings of St. Eloy (6th century), preserved before the
Revolution of 1793 in the treasury of the church at Noyon, in France, was
inscribed:–
Annulus Eligii fuit aureus iste beati,
Quo Christo sanctam desponsavit Godebertam.
(This gold ring of the ever-blessed St. Eloy was that with which he
married St. Godiberte to Christ.)
John Alcock, Bishop of Ely (1486), gives ‘an exhortacyon made to relygyous
systers in the tyme of theyr consecracyon by him: “I aske the banes betwyx
the hyghe and moost myghty Prynce, Kyng of all kynges, Sone of Almyghty
God, and the Virgyn Mary, in humanyte Cryste Jesu of Nazareth, of the one
partye, and A. B. of the thother partye, that yf ony or woman can shewe
any lawfull impedymente other by any precontracte made on corrupcyon of
body or soule of the sayd A. B. that she ought not to be maryed this daye
unto the sayd mighty Prynce Jesu, that they wolde accordynge unto the lawe
shewe it.”’
There is no doubt that these ‘espousals to Christ’ were in connection with
the spiritual marriage of the bishop with the Church implied by the
sanctity of the episcopal ring. ‘The mystical signification,’ observes Mr.
E. Waterton, ‘attached to this ring has been set forth by various
ecclesiastical writers. “Datur et annulus episcopo,” observes St. Isidore,
of Seville, in the 16th century, “propter signum pontificalis honoris, vel
signaculum secretorum.” In 1191 Innocent III. wrote that “annulus episcopi
perfectionem donorum Spiritus Sancti in Christo significat.” Durandus, who
lived in the 13th century, enlarges upon the subject in his “Rationale.”
“The ring,” he says, “is the badge of fidelity with which Christ betrothed
the Church, his holy Bride, so that she can say: ‘My Lord betrothed me
with his ring.’ Her guardians are the bishops, who wear the ring for a
mark and a testimony of it; of whom the Bride speaks in the Canticles:
‘The watchmen who kept the city found me.’ The father gave a ring to the
prodigal son, according to the text, ‘put a ring on his finger.’ A
bishop’s ring, therefore, signifies _integritatum fidei_; that is to say,
he should love as himself the Church of God committed to him as his
Bride, and that he should keep it sober and chaste for the heavenly
Bridegroom, according to the words, ‘I have espoused you to one Husband,
that I my present you as a chaste virgin to Christ,’ and that he should
remember he is not the lord, but the shepherd.”’
It was the custom in former ages for the high dignitaries of the Church,
at the time of their elevation to episcopal rank, to celebrate such event
with pompous ceremonies. We find recorded, among others, the marriage of
prelates, especially in Italy. In 1519, Antonio Pucci was elected Bishop
of Pistoja, and made his solemn entrée with a brilliant cortége. On
reaching a nunnery called San Pier Maggiore, ‘he descended from his
horse,’ says Michel-Ange Salvi, ‘and entered the church, which was richly
decorated. After praying, he went towards the wall which separated the
church from the convent, where an opening had been made, and, in an
apartment there, wedded the abbess, placing on her finger a sumptuous
ring. After this he went to the cathedral, and with various ceremonies was
inducted into his bishopric.’
At Florence, when an archbishop was elected, he proceeded to a convent
dedicated to St. Peter, and was married to the abbess. A platform was
erected, surmounted by a rich baldequin, near the high altar; a golden
ring was brought to the prelate, which he placed on the finger of the
abbess, whose hand was sustained by the oldest priest of the parish. The
archbishop slept one night at the convent, and the next day was enthroned,
with great ceremony, in the cathedral.
The same usages were practised at the installation of the archbishops of
Milan, the Bishops of Bergamo, Modena, &c.
Aimon, in his ‘Tableau de la Cour de Rome,’ describing the ceremonies
attending the consecration of cardinals, says: ‘Le Pape leur fait alors
une exhortation, et leur assigne des titres; leur met au doigt annulaire
de la main droite, un anneau d’or, dans lequel est enchassé un saphir, qui
coûte à chaque Eminence cinq cents ducats. Cet anneau est donné au nouveau
Cardinal pour lui apprendre _qu’il a l’Èglise pour épouse_, et qu’il ne le
doit jamais abandonner.’
During the ceremony of consecrating the Bishop of Limoges at Nôtre Dame in
Paris (1628), in presence of the Queen and the Duke of Orleans, the former
sent the Bishop a rich diamond ring, which she took from her finger, in
token of the spiritual marriage which he was contracting with the Church.
M. Thiers, in his ‘Traité des Superstitions,’ gives a curious instance of
these espousals to Christ: a Carmelite, in his assumed quality of
‘Secretary of Jesus,’ had persuaded some of his devotees to sign contracts
of marriage with the Saviour. A translation of one of these I now give:
‘I, Jesus, son of the living God, the husband of my faithful, take my
daughter, Madelaine Gasselin, for my wife; and promise her fidelity, and
not to abandon her, and to give her, for advantage and possession, my
grace in this life, promising her my glory in the other, and a portion of
the inheritance of my Father. In faith of which I have signed the
irrevocable contract by the hand of my secretary. Done in the presence of
the Father Eternal, of my love, of my very worthy mother Mary, of my
father St. Joseph, and of all my celestial court, in the year of grace
1650, day of my father St. Joseph.
‘JESUS, the husband of faithful souls.
‘Mary, mother of God. Joseph, husband of Mary. The guardian angel
Madelaine, the dear lover of Jesus.
‘This contract has been ratified by the Holy Trinity, the day of the
glorious St. Joseph, in the same year.
‘Brother Arnoux, of St. John the Baptist, Carmelite. Déchaussé, unworthy
secretary of Jesus.’
‘I, Madelaine Gasselin, unworthy servant of Jesus, take my amiable Jesus
for my husband, and promise him fidelity, and that I never have any other
but Him, and I give Him, as a proof of my truth, my heart, and all that I
shall ever be, through life unto death doing all that is required of me,
and to serve Him with all my heart throughout eternity. In faith of which
I have signed with my own hand the irrevocable contract, in the presence
of the ever-adorable Trinity, of the holy Virgin, Mary, mother of God, my
glorious father St. Joseph, my guardian angel, and all the celestial
court, the year of grace 1650, day of my glorious father St. Joseph.
‘JESUS, lover of hearts.
‘Mary, mother of God. Joseph, husband of Mary. The guardian angel
Madelaine, the dearly-beloved of Jesus.
‘This contract has been ratified by the ever-adorable Trinity the same day
of the glorious St. Joseph, in the same year.
‘Brother Arnoux, of St. John the Baptist.’
A curious legend of a ring of espousals received from our Saviour by a
pious maiden, is recorded by Nider, in his treatise ‘In Formicario,’ and
is referred to by Kirchmann (‘De Annulis’). He writes in praise of
celibacy, and describes a certain maiden who, rejecting all earthly loves,
is filled with sincere affection for Christ only. After praying for some
token of Divine acceptance: ‘orti locello quo nunc oculis corporeis visum
dirigo. Et ecce in eodem momento et locello vidit tres or duos circiter
violarum amenos flosculos…. Violas manu collegit propria et conservavit
solliciter, ut exinde amor et spes artius ad suum sponsum grate
succrescerent.’
After enforcing the miraculous character of the event by reminding his
readers that it was not the season of flowers, but somewhere about the
feast of St. Martin, he continues:–‘In sequenti anno iterum in orto suo
laboraret quodam die, et ibidem in locum certum intuitum dirigeret,
optando ex imo cordis desiderio quatenus ibi reperiret in signum
Christifere desponsationis annulum aliquem, si divinæ voluntatis id esset:
et en altera vice non sprevit Deus preces humilis virginis sed reperit
materialem quemdam annulum quem vidi postmodum. Erat autem coloris albi,
de minera qua nescio, argento mundo videbatur similior. Et in clausura ubi
jungebatur in circulum due manus artificiose insculpte extiterunt…. Hunc
annulum virgo gratissime servavit in posterum, et altissimo suo sponso
deinceps ut antea in labore manuum suarum vivere studuit.’ _Vide_ J.
Nider, _In Formicario_, Cologne, 1473 (?) [‘Notes and Queries’].
This mystical union by the ring was exemplified in a singular manner in
the instance of Edmund Rich, who was consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury
in 1234. When a young man he made a vow of celibacy, and, that he might be
able to keep it, he wedded himself to the mother of our Lord. He had two
rings made with ‘Ave Maria’ engraved on each. One he placed on the finger
of an image of the Virgin, which stood in a church at Oxford, and the
other he wore on his own finger, considering himself espoused in this
manner to the Virgin. He cherished the remembrance of this transaction to
his death, and at his funeral the ring was observed on his finger.[53]
In the legends of the saints there are frequent allusions to the espousals
with Christ, in which the ring is prominently mentioned; thus of St.
Catherine of Alexandria, it is said that, as she slept upon her bed, ‘the
blessed Virgin appeared to her again, accompanied by her divine Son, and
with them a noble company of saints and angels. And Mary again presented
Catherine to the Lord of Glory, saying, “Lo, she hath been baptized, and I
myself have been her godmother!” Then the Lord smiled upon her, and held
out his hand, and plighted his troth to her, putting a ring upon her
finger. When Catherine awoke, remembering her dream, she looked, _and saw
the ring upon her finger_; and, henceforth regarding herself as the
betrothed of Christ, she despised the world, and all the pomp of earthly
sovereignty, thinking only of the day which should reunite her with her
celestial and espoused Lord.’
In a painting by Ghirlandago, St. Catherine is represented with a ring
conspicuous on her finger, in allusion to her mystical espousals.
Mrs. Jameson, in her ‘Sacred and Legendary Art,’ mentions an engraving of
the marriage of St. Catherine by one of the earliest artists of the
genuine German school, the anonymous engraver known only as ‘Le Graveur de
1466,’ ‘the scene is Paradise; and the Virgin-Mother, seated on a flowery
throne, is in the act of twining a wreath, for which St. Dorothea presents
the roses; in front of the Virgin kneels St. Catherine, and beside her
stands the Infant Christ (here a child about five or six years old), and
presents the ring,’ &c.
In Titian’s ‘Marriage of St. Catherine,’ ‘the Infant Christ is seated on a
kind of pedestal, and sustained by the arms of the Virgin. St. Catherine
kneels before him, and St. Anna, the mother of the Virgin, gives St.
Catherine away, presenting her hand to receive the ring; St. Joseph is
standing on the other side; two angels behind the saint, look on with an
expression of celestial sympathy.’
St. Agnes, in the old legend, when tempted to marry the son of Sempronius,
the prefect of Rome, by rich presents, rejects them with scorn, ‘being
already betrothed to a lover who is greater and fairer than any earthly
suitor.’
In Hone’s ‘Everyday Book’ (vol. i. p. 141) there is a curious story
connected with St. Agnes, ‘who,’ says Butler, ‘has always been looked upon
as a special patroness of purity, with the immaculate mother of God.’ It
seems that a priest who officiated in a church dedicated to that saint was
very desirous of being married. He prayed the Pope’s licence, who gave it
him, together with an emerald ring, and commanded him to pay his addresses
to the image of St. Agnes in his own church. The priest did so, and the
image put forth her finger and he put the ring thereon; whereupon the
image drew her finger again, and kept the ring fast, and the priest was
contented to remain a bachelor, ‘and yet, as it is sayd, the rynge is on
the fynger of the ymage.’
Mrs. Jameson remarks, on a painting representing in one compartment of the
picture the Espousal of St. Francis of Assisi with the Lady Poverty, that
she is attended by Hope and Charity as bridesmaids, being thus substituted
for Faith. St. Francis places the ring upon her finger, while our Saviour,
standing between them, at once gives away the bride and bestows the
nuptial benediction.
St. Herman of Cologne, in the thirteenth century, is said to have had an
ecstatic dream, in which the Virgin descended from heaven, and, putting a
ring on his finger, declared him her espoused. Hence he received from the
brotherhood with which he was connected the name of Joseph. He died in
1236.
In Hone’s ‘Everyday Book’ it is remarked that the meeting of St. Anne and
St. Joachim at the Golden Gate was a popular theme. The nuns of St. Anne,
at Rome, showed a rude silver ring as the wedding one of the two saints.
In the Braybrooke Collection is a thick, gold, nun’s ring, with a conical
surface to the band of the hoop, and an inscription of the fourteenth
century, in Longobardic characters, ‘× O (for _avec_) cest (for _cet_)
_anel seu_ (for _je suis_) _espose de Jheusu Crist_.’ In the Waterton
Collection at the South Kensington Museum is also a nun’s ring of the same
date, inscribed ‘God with Maria.’
In former times complaints were made in the ‘Constitutions’ of nuns
wearing several rings. In the ‘Ancren Riwle, or Regulæ Inclusarum’ (Camden
Society) nuns are forbidden to have brooch or _ring_, or studded girdle:–
Ring ne broche nabbe ye; ne gurdel i-membred.
‘Espousals to God’ were not confined to the religious portion of the
community.
Eleanora, third daughter of John, King of England, on the death of her
husband, the Earl of Pembroke, in 1231, in the first transports of her
grief, made in public a solemn vow, in presence of Edmund, Archbishop of
Canterbury, that she would never again become a wife, but remain a true
spouse of Christ, and received the ring in confirmation, which vows she,
however, subsequently broke, to the indignation of a strong party of the
laity and clergy of England, by her marriage with Simon de Montfort, Earl
of Leicester. At the head of the clergy was one William de Avendon, a
Dominican friar, who quoted a tractate on vows, by one ‘Master Peter,’
from which it appears that a sacred plight-ring was considered almost as
impassable a barrier as the veil itself, against the marriage of the
wearer.
Mary, sixth daughter of Edward I., took the veil at Amesbury, thirteen
young ladies being selected as her companions. The spousal rings placed on
their fingers were of gold, adorned with a sapphire, and were provided at
the expense of the King.
In a very interesting paper by Mr. Harrod, F.S.A., in the ‘Archæologia’
(vol. xl. part 2) we have particulars of the custom, which prevailed in
the Middle Ages, of widows taking a vow of chastity, and receiving a
particular robe and ring. Sir Harris Nicolas printed in the ‘Testamenta
Vetusta’ an abstract of the will of Lady Alice West, of Hinton Marcel,
widow of Sir Thomas West, dated in 1395, and proved in the Prerogative
Court of Canterbury. There is a bequest to her son Thomas, amongst other
things of ‘a ring with which I was yspoused to God.’
Sir Harris rightly says that this could not have been her marriage-ring,
and it was certain she had not entered a convent. This is still more
clearly made out by a reference to the transcript of the will in the
registers of the Prerogative Court.
Gough, in his ‘Sepulchral Monuments,’ quotes a story, from Matthew Paris,
of one Cecily Sandford, a lady of condition, who, on her deathbed, having
passed through the usual forms with her confessor, and he ordering her
attendants to take off a gold ring he observed on her finger, although
just expiring, recovered herself enough to tell them she would never part
with it, as she intended carrying it to heaven with her into the presence
of her celestial spouse, in testimony of her constant observance of her
vow, and to receive the promised reward. She had, it appears, made a vow
of perpetual widowhood, and with her _wedding_-ring assumed the russet
habit, the usual sign of such a resolution.
‘In the “Colchester Chronicle,” portions of which are printed in
Cromwell’s “History of Colchester,” one entry appears to confirm the
conjecture that the whole was composed in the fourteenth or fifteenth
century, “Anno Dn̄i ccciij. Helena mortuo Constancio perpetuam vovit
viduitatem.”
‘By the testament of Katharine Rippelingham, dated February 8, 1473, who
calls herself “advowes,” she desires to be buried in the church of
Baynardes Castell of London, where she was a parishioner; and by her will,
in which she gives herself the title of “widow advowes,” she shows herself
in the full exercise of her rights of property, devising estates, carrying
out awards, and adjusting family differences, and in an undated codicil
she bequeaths to her daughter’s daughter, Alice Saint John, “_her gold
ring_ with a diamante sette therein, _wherewith she was ‘sacred.’_”’
‘Sir Gilbert Denys, Knight of Syston, 1422: “If Margaret my wife will
after my death vow a vow of chastity, I give her all my moveable goods,
she paying my debts and providing for my children; and, if she will not
vow a vow of chastity, I desire that my goods may be distributed, or
divided into three equal parts, &c.”
‘John Brakenbury, in 1487, leaves his mother certain real estate, “with
that condicion that she never mary, _the which she promised afore the
parson and the parish of Thymmylbe_, and if she kepe not that promise, I
will she be content with that which was my fader’s will, which she had
every peny.”
‘William Herbert, knight, Lord Pembroke, in his will dated July 27, 1469,
thus appeals to his wife: “And, wife, that you remember your promise to
take the order of widowhood, so ye may be the better maistres of your
owen, to perform my will, and to help my children, as I love and trust
you.”
‘William Edlington, esquire, of Castle Carlton, on June 11, 1466, states
in his will: “I make Christian, my wife, my executor on this condicion,
that she take the _mantle and the ring_ soon after my decease; and, if
case be that she will not take the mantle and the ring, I will that
William, my son (and other persons therein named) be my executors, and she
to have a third part of all my goods moveable.”
‘Lady Joan Danvers in 1453, gives the ring of her profession of widowhood
to the image of the crucifix, near the north door of St. Paul’s.
‘Lady Margaret Davy, widow, in 1489, leaves her profession-ring to “Our
Lady of Walsingham.”’
Gough prints the Act of Court from the Ely Registers, on the taking the
vow by Isabella, Countess of Suffolk, in 1382. This took place at the
priory of Campsey, in the presence of the Earl of Warwick, the Lords
Willoughby, Scales, and others. The vow was as follows: ‘Jeo Isabella,
jadys la femme William de Ufford, Count de Suffolk, vowe à Dieu, &c., en
presence de tres reverentz piers en Dieu evesques de Ely et de Norwiz, qe
jeo doi estre chaste d’ors en avant ma vie durante.’ And the Bishop of
Ely, with authority of the Bishop of Norwich (in whose diocese Campsey
was) received and admitted the same, ‘et mantellum sive clamidem ac
annulum dicte voventis solempniter benedixit et imposuit super eam.’
Catherine, sixth daughter of Henry the Fourth, married to William
Courtenay, Earl of Devon, on the death of her husband, took the vow of
perpetual widowhood in 1511.
Dugdale, in his ‘History of Warwickshire’ and in his ‘Baronage,’ prints a
licence from John, Bishop of Lichfield, to one N. N. to administer the vow
of chastity to Margery, wife of Richard Middlemore, who died 15th of Henry
the Seventh, which contains this passage: ‘In signum hujusmodi continentiæ
et castitatis promisso perpetuo servando eandem Margeriam velandam seu
peplandam habitumque viduitatis hujusmodi viduis, ut præfertur, ad
castitatis professionem dari et uti consuetum cum unico annulo
assignandum.’
Legacies and gifts of rings for religious purposes were frequent in former
times; thus, amongst other rich gifts to the Cathedral of Canterbury,
Archbishop Hubert, in 1205, presented four gold rings adorned with
precious stones. Henry the Third, while on a visit to St. Alban’s Abbey,
made some costly presents, including bracelets and rings, and five years
afterwards gave similar gifts at another visit to the same abbey.
The same monarch, among other gifts to Salisbury Cathedral, ‘offered one
gold ring with a precious stone called a ruby.’ After hearing mass he told
the dean that he would have the stone and the gold applied to adorn a
sumptuous gold ‘text’ (a Bible for the use of the altar) enriched with
precious stones given by Hubert de Burgh.
Dugdale mentions in a list of jewels formerly in the treasury of York
Cathedral ‘a small mitre, set with stones, for the bishop of the boys, or,
as he was anciently called, the barne bishop; also a pastoral staff and
_ring_ for the same.’
The Bishop of Ardfert, in Ireland, gave to St. Alban’s ‘three noble rings;
one set with an oriental sapphire, the second with a sapphire that
possessed some _medicinal_ quality, and was formed like a shield, and the
other with a sapphire of less size.’
Henry de Blois presented to the same abbey a large ring set with jewels;
the middle one was a sapphire of a faint colour, and in the circuit four
pearls and four garnets.
John of St. Alban’s, a knight, left as a legacy to the monks of the abbey
‘a number of rings containing many precious stones.’
At the death of Walter, Abbot of Peterborough, among his effects,
containing many rich articles, were no less than thirty gold rings, the
offerings of the faithful.
Thomas Chillenden, fortieth Abbot of Canterbury, gave several pontifical
rings to the abbey.
Thomas de la Chesnaye (died 1517) left, for the shrine of the Virgin at
Rouen Cathedral, a ring garnished with a costly precious stone. Eustace
Grossier, canon of the same cathedral, bequeathed, in 1534, his
signet-ring to the shrine of St. Romain. Two years afterwards Jean de
Lieur, another canon, left four rings to the shrine of the Virgin, ‘où il
y a en une, une petite esmaraude; en laultre une petite turquoise, en
laultre ung petit saphir, et en laultre ung petit rubi.’ In 1544 Etienne
Burnel leaves to Our Lady a gold ring with a ruby enchased, and a pendant
pearl; and to the shrine of St. Romain a gold ring with a diamond.
Charles the Third (? Naples) took from his finger a ring of great value to
adorn the golden canopy, enriched with precious stones, for the Host, in
the church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem.
Lady Morgan, in her ‘Italy,’ mentions the miraculous statue of the Virgin
and Child at Loretto: ‘The Bambino holds up his hand as if to sport a
superb diamond ring on his finger, presented to him by Cardinal Antonelli:
it is a single diamond and weighs thirty grains.’
In the ‘Annals of Ireland’ we read that in 1421 Richard O’Hedian,
Archbishop of Cashel, was accused, among other crimes, of taking a ring
away from the image of St. Patrick (which the Earl of Desmond had offered)
and giving it to his mistress.
Louis VII., of France, laid the first stone of the porch and two towers of
the abbey church of St. Denis, in 1140. When the officiating minister
pronounced the words ‘lapides pretiosi omnes muri tui et turres,
Jerusalem, gemmis ædificabunter,’ the King took a costly ring from his
finger, and threw it into the foundations. Several of the other persons
present followed the example.
Saint Honoré, eighth Bishop of Amiens, in the sixteenth century, left his
pastoral ring to the treasury of the cathedral, but it was sold by one of
his successors, Bishop Gervain. It was afterwards repurchased and replaced
in the treasury by Bishop Godefroy.
We read in the account of the spoliation of the shrine of St. Thomas à
Becket, at Canterbury (temp. Henry VIII.), of a stone ‘with an Angell of
gold poynting thereunto, offered there by a King of France’ (which King
Henry put) ‘into a ring, and wore it on his thumb.’ The shrine blazed with
gold and jewels; the wooden sides were plated with gold, and damasked with
gold wire: cramped together on this gold ground were innumerable jewels,
pearls, sapphires, balasses, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, and also ‘in
the midst of the gold, rings, or cameos of sculptured agates, cornelians,
and onyx stones.’
The stone that the rapacious Henry took was said to be as large as a hen’s
egg, or a thumb-nail, and was commonly called the ‘Regale of France’
offered to the shrine by Louis VII. of France, when on a pilgrimage
there.[54]
At the meeting of the Archæological Institute at Norwich in 1847 Sir
Thomas Beevor exhibited a silver ring, with a zigzag tooling and the word
‘✠Dancas✠’ signifying a token of thanks, or acknowledgment of services
received, or, possibly, an _ex voto_, in accordance with the common usage
of suspending such ornaments near the shrines of saints, as appears in the
inventories of St. Cuthbert’s shrine, &c.
Adam Sodbury, fifty-third Abbot of Glastonbury, gave to the abbey, among
other precious gifts, ‘a gold ring with a stone called Peritot, which was
on the finger of St. Thomas the Martyr, when he fell by the swords of
wicked men.’
Among what may be called ‘religious’ rings, I would notice those which are
termed ‘decade,’ ‘reliquary,’ ‘pilgrims,’ &c., some of which are highly
interesting, and serve to show how, in past ages, the zeal of our
forefathers was animated by these rings, or, as some would call them,
these _aids_ to superstition. In olden wills they are frequently mentioned
as heir-looms of great value.
What are termed DECADE-rings, having ten projections at intervals all
round the hoop, were common in former times, and were used as beads for
repeating _Aves_. In the Braybrooke Collection a ring is mentioned with
eleven knobs, the last being larger than the others, indicating ten _Aves_
and one _Paternoster_. Each of the knobs is separated by three small
beaded dots across the hoop from its neighbour, probably symbolic of the
Trinity. At a meeting of the Archæological Institute at Norwich, in 1847,
a curious ring was exhibited dating from the reign of Henry VI., found at
St. Faith’s, near Norwich. It is engrailed, presenting ten cusps, and may
be placed in the class of decade-rings. On the facet is engraved the
figure of St. Mary Magdalen (or St. Barbara?), and on the outer circle ‘de
bon cver’ (‘de bon cœur’).
Another ring of the same date is of a more delicate workmanship, and bears
on the facet, St. Christopher, the hoop engrailed like the last, and has
the legend ‘en. bo. n. ane’ (‘en bon an’).
At the same exhibition of antiquities among the rings of latten or
base-metal was shown one engraved with the figure of a female saint,
probably St. Catherine; the hoop formed with eleven bosses, date about
1450. A similar brass ring bearing the same figure, found near British and
Roman weapons in the bed of the Thames, at Kingston, engraved in Jesse’s
‘Gleanings in Natural History,’ is here represented. This ring has eleven
bosses, and, although found in the immediate vicinity of vestiges of an
earlier date, may be regarded as of mediæval date, having been
accidentally thrown together in the alluvial deposit.
Two decade-rings of the fifteenth century were also exhibited at the
Norwich meeting, bearing the monogram I.H.S. one found in Norwich Castle,
and the other at Heigham.
A gold ring with ten knobs, was found in 1846, at Denbigh, in pulling down
an old house. Its weight is a quarter of an ounce. A similar ring of base
metal, discovered in a tomb in York Minster, is preserved in the treasury
of that church; and another example, in silver, of precisely similar form,
was found in Whitby Abbey, Yorkshire.
Mr. Edward Hoare, of Cork, writing to the editor of the ‘Archæological
Journal,’ observes that, as far as he has been able to obtain information
about decade-rings, they were worn by some classes of religious during the
hours of repose, so that on awaking during the night they might repeat a
certain number of prayers, marking them by the beads or knobs of the
rings. If worn on any finger except the thumb, at other periods of time
than those of repose, it must have been as a sort of penance, and perhaps
these rings were sometimes so used. The addition of a twelfth boss marked
the repetition of a creed.
The following illustration is from the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ (1792), of a
ring found near Croydon, concerning which a correspondent of that work
wrote that he remembered a similar ring in the possession of a man
advanced in years, who had passed his youth at sea. ‘The ring,’ he said,
‘was a _dicket_ (a corruption of “Decade”), to be placed, successively, on
each of the fingers, and turned with the thumb; the cross and larger boss
for the _Paternoster_; the ten smaller ones for _Ave Maria_, and that he
used to say his prayers with it on board ship without being noticed by the
sailors, in the hurry and confusion of a man of war.’
In the rich collection of E. Hoare, Esq., is a curious decade signet-ring,
of which the following is a representation from the ‘Archæological
Journal’ (vol. ii. p. 198). It was discovered near Cork in 1844, and is
thus described: ‘The hoop is composed of nine knobs or bosses, which may
have served instead of beads in numbering prayers, whilst the central
portion which forms the signet supplied the place of the _gaùde_.’ Some
persons (as Mr. Hoare remarked) have considered this ring as very ancient;
Mr. Lindsay supposed it to have been of earlier date than the ninth
century, regarding the device as representing an arm, issuing from the
clouds, holding a cross with a crown, or an ecclesiastical cap, beneath
it. Sir William Betham expressed the following opinion respecting this
relic: ‘There can be little doubt but your ring is a decade ring, as there
are ten knobs or balls about it. The globe surmounted by a cross is a
Christian emblem of sovereignty; the ring and cross, of a bishop; the cap
looks like a crown, and, only that the ring is too old, it might be
considered the ciulid or barred crown of a sovereign prince. It certainly
is of considerable antiquity, and Mr. Lindsay is not far out in his
estimation.’
In the Londesborough Collection is a ‘religious’ ring, apparently a work
of the fourteenth century. It has a heart in the centre, from which
springs a double flower. On the upper edge of the ring are five
protuberances in each side: they were used to mark a certain number of
prayers said by the wearer, who turned his ring as he said them, and so
completed the series in the darkness of the night.
It has been stated by French antiquaries that metal rings formed with ten
bosses, and one of as early date as the reign of St. Louis, have been
found in France. It was at that period that the use of the _chapelet_ in
honour of the Blessed Virgin is supposed to have been devised by Peter the
Hermit.
A decade silver ring found at Exton, in Rutlandshire, in the possession of
Mrs. Baker, of Stamford, has also a central projection engraved with a
cross.
In Mr. Hoare’s collection is a silver decade-ring found in 1848 in Surrey.
The hoop has ten projections resembling the cogs of a wheel, and on the
circular facet is the monogram I.H.S. surmounted by a cross, with a heart
pierced by three nails.
In the Londesborough Collection is a ring of Delhi workmanship which has
been referred to as a decade. The face is convex, circular, and of
turquoise, engraved and inlaid with Oriental characters in gold,
surrounded by ten cup-shaped bosses of rubies. The sides of the bosses are
enamelled green, and the backs red and white like leaflets. The back of
the face is richly enamelled with flowers having red blossoms and green
leaves, among which, upon the shank, are intermingled some pale-blue
blossoms, and within the centre, where the shank is attached to the back
of the face, are small golden stars upon an enamelled ground, and on each
side leaves of green enamel. The inscription reads ‘Jan (John) Kaptani.’
Mr. Edmund Waterton, at a meeting of the Archæological Institute
(December, 1862), gave the following notice of some rings of a peculiar
class, of which he sent several specimens for inspection: ‘On a former
occasion I exhibited, at one of the meetings, some of the so-called–and
wrongly–rosary-rings, one of which had seven, the other eleven, and the
third, thirteen knobs or bosses. I stated my opinion that we ought to
consider these examples as belonging to a form of ring prevalent about the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and described in wills and inventories
as rings with “knoppes or bulionys.” I had never met with a proper rosary,
or, more properly, decade, ring of a date anterior to the sixteenth
century. But a remarkable specimen has lately been added to my collection
which I send for exhibition. It is of ivory; there are ten knobs or bosses
for the _Aves_, and an eleventh of larger size and different form, for the
_Pater_. There are holes around the hoop, probably merely for ornament. I
am inclined to ascribe it to the fourteenth century, and think it not
unlikely it is of Irish origin. I am induced to form this opinion from the
peculiar fashion of the eleventh boss, which presents a type found in
rings discovered only in Ireland. This ring was found many years ago in an
old tomb in Merston churchyard, in Holderness. I also send another
decade-ring, of silver, and of a later date and type. This ring was
formerly in the possession of the Reverend Mother Anne More, Lady Abbess
of the English Augustinian Nuns at Bruges, and sister of Father More, of
the Society of Jesus, the last male descendant of Sir Thomas More. He gave
the More relics to Stonyhurst College.’
Among other examples of ‘religious’ rings, I may mention a beautiful one
of gold, of fifteenth-century work, found at Orford Castle in Suffolk, and
the property of the Rev. S. Blois Turner. On the facet is engraved a
representation of the Trinity, the Supreme Being supporting a crucifix; on
the flanges are St. Anne instructing the Virgin Mary, and the _Mater
Dolorosa_. These designs were probably enamelled.
A representation is here given of a gold triple ring, brought from Rome,
and, possibly, emblematic of the Trinity. It is an Early Christian ring,
dating, probably, from the end of the third or beginning of the fourth
century.
At the meeting of the Archæological Institute in March 1850 an exquisite
gold ‘religious’ ring of the fifteenth century was exhibited, found
within the precincts of Lewes Priory. It is delicately chased with the
following subjects: on the facet, the Virgin and child; on one side, the
Emperor Domitian; on the other, St. Pancras; on the flanges are
represented the Holy Trinity, and St. John with the Holy Lamb. The work
was originally enriched with transparent enamel.
In the Londesborough Collection is a gold ‘religious’ ring, enamelled with
a diamond in the centre, and six rubies, arranged like a sacred cross,
around it. The scrolls are enriched with white, blue, and green enamel.
At Barnard Castle, in 1811, a gold ring was found of eight globules, in
weight equal to three guineas and a half. On the second is S; on the
fourth, US; on the sixth, JH; on the eighth, S, the abbreviation of
Sanctus Jesus; on the first, is the Saviour on the cross in the arms of
God; on the third, the Saviour triumphing over death; on the fifth, the
Saviour scourged; on the seventh, Judas, the traitor.
The accompanying illustration represents a ‘religious’ ring, found in the
eighteenth century near Loughborough, and described in the ‘Gentleman’s
Magazine’ for 1802. The figures are those of the Virgin Mary, Child, and
St. Michael.
A ring of a curious form is described in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for
1811, as having been found in the parish of Stonham-Aspal, Suffolk. The
gold seemed pure, but the workmanship was rude, and the gem which it
enclosed was supposed to be a virgin sapphire.
The following represents a large and curious ring found about 1750 at the
hermitage on the River Itchen, at Southampton, which is noticed in Sir
Henry Englefield’s ‘Walk Round Southampton,’ and is mentioned in the
‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for 1802. The bezel is little broader than the
hoop.
In the collection of Mr. Octavius Morgan, F.R.S., F.S.A., is a Jewish ring
enamelled with figures in relief, representing the Creation, the
Temptation, and the Fall of Adam and Eve; date, sixteenth century.
In the cathedral library at Chichester is an ancient gem having the
Gnostic equivalent of the blessed name Jehovah. This was used by Seffrid,
Bishop of Chichester (died 1159), as his episcopal signet.
In the Gérente Collection is a reliquary ring of silver-gilt elaborately
ornamented.
The Bessborough Collection has a ring with a frog or toad cut in a
magnificent almandine, of Roman work–a favourite device in the later
Imperial times, the animal typifying a new birth by its total changes of
form and habits, and hence adopted into the list of Christian symbols.
The Rev. C. W. King notices in his ‘Antique Gems,’ among some ‘highly
curious and undoubted Christian subjects engraved on gems, one of the most
interesting–a red jasper set in an elegant antique gold ring, the shank
formed of a corded pattern, in wire, of a novel and beautiful design. The
stone bears, in neatly-formed letters: ΙΗCΟΥC-ΦΕΟΥ-ΥΙΟC-ΤΗΡΕ, “Jesus, Son
of God, keep us.” Another, of equal interest and of the earliest period of
our religion, a fish cut on a fine emerald (quarter of an inch square), is
set in an exquisitely-moulded six-sided ring, with fluted and knotted
shank, imitating a bent reed, very similar to a bronze one figured in
Caylus.’
The first of the annexed illustrations represents an early Christian ring
with the symbol of an anchor.
The other engraving is from Gorlæus, of an early Christian ring with the
sacred emblems, found in the Catacombs at Rome.
The following illustration represents a key-ring, with sacred monogram.
In the Waterton ‘Dactyliotheca’ is an early Christian ring having ‘the
Holy Church represented by a pillar, on which are figured twelve dots,
which denote the twelve apostles. Three steps, thrice repeated, lead to
the pillar, symbolising the _lavacrum regenerationis_, which was formerly
received by three immersions, and three interrogations, and three replies
given by those who were being baptised.’
In the treasuries of various continental churches are ‘religious’ rings,
to which a high value is attached. In the church of St. Ursula, at
Cologne, is one called the ring of that saint, and is, certainly, of very
early date.
Mr. J. W. Singer informs me that he has seen in the treasury of the
cathedral of Liége, a large shrine, far above the size of life, in
silver-gilt, the bust of St. Lambert, the patron of the cathedral. One
hand has a crosier, and the other holds a book. On the right hand are six
rings, and on the left are three, of the seventeenth and eighteenth
century style; the shrine being late fifteenth or early sixteenth century.
The rings are on very different parts of the fingers, some being on the
first joint.
These rings may have been votive offerings; one is a ruby ring having a
stone weighing ten carats.
In a catalogue (kindly lent to me by Mr. Singer), ‘Des Bijoux de la Très
Sainte Vierge del Pilar de Saragosse’ of offerings by the pious to the
sacred treasury for many centuries, and which were sold in 1870 to defray
the expenses of repairs and embellishments to the Holy Chapel, numerous
costly rings are included among other precious objects.
With a few instances of ‘religious’ rings, including pilgrims’ rings, &c.,
now in the possession of several eminent collectors, and exhibited at
various meetings of the Archæological Society, I must conclude the present
chapter.
In the curious catalogue of Dr. Bargrave’s Museum (Camden Society) is
mentioned ‘a small gold Salerno ring, written on the outside–not like a
posey, in the inside, but on the out–_Bene scripsisti de Me, Thoma_. The
story of it is, that Thomas Aquinas, being at Salerno, and in earnest in a
church before a certain image there of the Blessed Virgin Mary, his
devotion carried him so far as to ask her whether she liked all that he
had writ of her, as being free from original sin, the Queen of Heaven,
&c., and entreated her to give him some token of her acceptance of his
endeavours in the writing of so much in her behalf; upon which the image
opened its lipps and said, _Bene scripsisti de Me, Thoma_.
‘Salerno layeth a little beyond Naples on the Mediterranean Sea; and the
goldsmiths of that place, for their profit, make thousands of these rings,
and then have them touch that image which spake. And no merchant or
stranger that cometh thither but buyeth of these rings for presents and
tokens.’
A seal-ring, considered to belong to the fifteenth century, was discovered
at Cuddesden in 1814, by some workmen, in front of the gate of the
episcopal palace. It is of brass; the impress is an oblong octagon; the
device is the word _pax_, with a crown above, and a heart and
palm-branches below.
In the collection of the Hon. Richard Neville is a ring of silver-gilt
(time, Henry VII.), with bevelled facets, engraved with figures of saints,
found at the Borough Field, Chesterford; also a latten ring found in the
Thames (1846), the impress being the Virgin and Child; and the ring of
latten–=ihc=–discovered in repairing Weston Church, Suffolk; within is
inscribed, =in deo salus=.
A gold ring in the possession of Mrs. Baker, of Stamford, stated to have
been found in the tomb of an ecclesiastic, in a stone coffin, near
Winchester, bears a representation of St. Christopher.
A ring found at Loughborough, in 1802, represents the Virgin and St.
Michael, with motto.
A silver ring found at Carlisle, in 1788, bears an inscription below,
which has been suggested for ‘Mary, Jesus.’ The bezel of this ring is a
rude representation of joined hands, surmounted by a crown, and a portion
of the hoop is decorated with lozenge-shaped spaces, filled with a row of
quatrefoils. A correspondent to the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for 1788, in
allusion to this ring, mentions that the hands joined together exactly
resemble one found at Shaf Abbey, with the motto ‘iheu.’ Or, he suggests,
‘it may be a wedding-ring, and to be read, _Marith_ (marrieth) _us_.’
A similar ring, with the hands joined, and inscribed _Jesus Nazarenus_, is
represented in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ (vol. liv. p. 734, and vol. lv.
p. 333).
The annexed engraving represents a ring found, about 1790, in Stretly
Park, near Nottingham. The figure is that of St. Edith, and the ring
probably belonged to the abbess of some religious house in the
neighbourhood.
The following illustration represents a ring discovered, in 1812, while
harrowing near Froxfield, Hants; weight 4 dwt. 7 grs. It is supposed to
have been worn by a warrior in the Crusades. The bezel part exhibits on
the dexter side a knight with a shield, charged with a cross, thrusting a
lance down the throat of a dragon–probably meant for St. George. The
figure on the corresponding side varies in having a cross on the right
side of his mantle, and appears to be in a boat, or wading through water;
and it may be conjectured to be intended for St. Christopher.
Representation of a ring with a crowned I over a pillar, supposed to be
the initial of our Saviour’s name as King of the Jews:
Mr. Davis, of Hempton, Oxfordshire, possesses a brass ring found there, in
the form of a strap and buckle, or of a garter, so contrived as to admit
of being contracted or enlarged, to suit the wearer’s finger; the end of
the strap being formed with little knobs, upon which the buckle catches,
and keeps the ring adjusted to the proper size. The hoop is inscribed in
relief, MATER DEI MEMENTO.
In the Waterton Collection is an ecclesiastical ring, silver-gilt, with
circular bezel set with a cabochon crystal, the shoulders ornamented with
cherubs’ heads in full relief, supported by brackets; on the reverse of
the bezel is engraved the figure of Christ on the Cross; sixteenth
century; diameter two and a half inches.
A singular silver ring, of which a representation is given in the
‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iii. p. 78) was exhibited at a meeting of
the Institute in 1846 by Mr. Talbot. The interlaced plated work resembles
some ornaments of the Saxon period, but is remarkable for having the
impress of two feet, which may, probably, be regarded as one of the
emblems of the Passion, or as a memorial of the pilgrimage to the Mount of
Olives, where the print of the feet of the Saviour which miraculously
marked the scene of His Ascension, was visited by the pilgrims with the
greatest veneration.
In the collection of Mr. Octavius Morgan, F.R.S., F.S.A., is a gold ring,
probably one of those obtained at Jerusalem, as tokens of pilgrimage to
the Holy City. On the head, which is circular, is engraved the Jerusalem
Cross, and around the hoop the first words of Numbers vi. 24: ‘The Lord
bless thee and keep thee,’ in Hebrew characters.
At a meeting of the Archæological Institute (Feb. 1855), Mr. Gough Nichols
exhibited impressions from two signet-rings, also bearing as a device the
‘Jerusalem Cross,’ or cross potent between four crosslets, the insignia of
the Kingdom of Jerusalem, worn likewise on the mantles of the Knights of
the Holy Sepulchre. This device is regarded as emblematic of the five
wounds of our Lord. On one of these rings, of gold, purchased at Brighton,
the cross appears between two olive-branches, with the word ‘Jerusalem’ in
Hebrew characters beneath; on the other the branches alone are introduced.
The ring last mentioned, which is of silver, is in the possession of Mr.
Thompson, of Leicester. These are supposed to be memorial rings brought as
tokens of pilgrimage to the Holy City.
A gold ring of most beautiful workmanship was exhibited at the Lincoln
meeting of the Archæological Institute, by the Rev. S. Blois Turner,
bearing the device of the bear and _bâton ragulé_, with the motto
inscribed above, ‘Soulement une’ (only one). Around the hoop are the
words, ‘be goddis fayre foot’. This very singular legend has been supposed
to have reference to the miraculous impress of the Saviour’s feet on the
Mount of Olives, which was regarded by pilgrims with extreme reverence,
and, like the five wounds, was probably used as a symbol of talismanic
virtue. This ring, formerly in the possession of George IV., now belongs
to General Johnson. Weight 230 grains.
In the Braybrooke Collection is a brass ring strongly gilt, with a long,
oval, flat signet, engraved with Hebrew characters, ‘Pray for the peace
of Jerusalem,’ from Psalm cxxii., supposed to be one of the rings given to
tourists to the holy city, as a certificate of their visit, and called in
the East ‘hadji’ or pilgrims’ rings.
In the same collection is a slight silver ring, with narrow and flat band
to hoop, surmounted by a circular signet; on the hoop is this inscription,
in relief, between lines raised along each edge, headed and ended by small
flowers, ‘M S D MONSERRATA.’ On the signet, also in relief, appears a
double-handled stone-mason’s saw (_serra_), the Latin for which furnished
the key to this monkish riddle; it reads thus, ‘Mater Sancta de
Monserrata,’ or Holy Mother of Monserrat, in Spain, where there was a
chapel dedicated to the Virgin, and this is, probably, the ring of a
pilgrim to that shrine.
At the meeting of the Archæological Institute at Norwich in 1847 some
curious examples of religious rings (of silver) were exhibited, connected,
most probably, with charms and superstitions. A ring dating about the
period of Henry VI. is engraved with the figure of a female saint, and the
symbols of the five wounds. Another, of the same age, found at Fransham,
has the hoop swaged or twisted; on the angular facets had been engraved
figures of saints. The engraving on another ring was ‘+Maria+Anna+Ih’us.’
Amongst the rich collection of rings lent by Mr. R. H. Soden Smith to the
Loan Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington
Museum in 1872, were six rings, gold and silver, of the iconographic type,
having for the most part figures of saints engraved on the bezel, one
inscribed within, in Gothic letters, ‘yspartir+canc+dec+’ (_partir sans
désir_).
In the ‘Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall’ (Sept. 1875) is a
note on an ancient signet-ring found at Penryn by Mr. W. H. Tregelles:
‘This ring was found a few years since in a field near Budock church, by a
watchmaker of the neighbourhood, of whom I bought it for Mr. Octavius
Morgan, F.S.A., late M.P. for Monmouthshire. It has been the subject of
much interesting discussion, the result of which, with a description of
the ring, and three impressions in hard wax, I have deposited in the
Museum of the Royal Institution of Cornwall, at Truro.
‘It is an oriental ring of silver, set with an oblong sard, engraved; it
appears at one time to have been gilt, and the loop and back of the bezel
were ornamented with a small pattern in niello, now almost obliterated by
long wear.
‘In the middle of the device is a cartouche, or escutcheon, terminating at
the top in a Greek cross potent. In the lower part of the escutcheon is
engraved a paschal lamb, and in the upper part are some oriental
characters, which have not been deciphered with certainty. On either side
of the escutcheon is some ornamental scroll-work, having in the middle the
Jerusalem cross potent.
‘It was submitted to Mr. Albert Way and Mr. C. W. King; and the latter
gentleman, who took much pains to make out the inscription, considered
that the characters were Servian, and that they represent the name of some
ecclesiastic of the Greek Church to whom it once belonged.
‘It was evidently an ecclesiastical ring, and M. Castellane stated that he
has seen several Armenian priests at Rome wearing similar rings. It may,
perhaps, date from the early part of the last century.
‘The most probable conjecture as to the reason of such an object being
found in Cornwall is that it may have been brought over by some traveller,
and, having been lost by him or the person to whom he gave it, was
mislaid among rubbish, and carted out with manure.’
In the first chapter of this work I have alluded to rings of the early
Christians, a subject of great interest, to which I again refer in these
notices of ‘religious’ rings, with additional illustrations from the
‘Archæological Journal.’
The following cut represents a portion of a ring of dark-green jasper,
from Rome, dating, probably, from the second or third century. On the oval
bezel a symbol is engraved in intaglio, viz. a boat, on which is a cock,
carrying a branch of palm.
A bronze ring, probably Christian, of the third or fourth century, of an
oval octagonal form, set with red jasper, engraved in intaglio with the
subject of a shepherd. From Rome.
The ring here represented is of bronze, engraved with a ship, the emblem
of the Church, between the letters _chi_ and _rho_. This ring was obtained
at Rome.
The accompanying illustrations are of small gold rings, in workmanship
and form dating from the third or fourth century.
Annexed (probable date about 440) is a signet-ring, the subject incised
upon the gold apparently a matrimonial or love-ring.
To the same period may be ascribed a bronze ring, of coarse workmanship,
taken from the Roman catacombs. A circular hoop is surmounted by a flat
circular bezel, on which is engraved an ear of corn between two fishes,
emblem of the bread of life, and those who live in faith of it.
Another bronze ring is engraved with the sacred symbol, the united _chi_
and _rho_ between the _alpha_ and _omega_ above, and two sheep below.
Probable date, the middle of the fourth century. Found at Rome.
To the same class of rings belongs the last of the above engravings. It is
of bronze, having a simple convex hoop; the device, a draped male figure
with nimbus, and standing before a cross appearing to spring from a bunch
of grapes. It was brought from Athens, and is probably Byzantine, of the
sixth or seventh century.
The following engraving represents a ring of duplex form, of solid gold,
weighing 5½ dwts. It has engraved
D
FILINAN
A
and
Vivas
in Deo*.
The ring probably dates from the latter part of the third, or beginning of
the fourth, century. It was discovered in the neighbourhood of Masignano,
a small township of Fermo.
Early Christian rings of silver are unusual; that now represented is of
duplex form. On one oval is engraved the name FAVSTVS, and on the other is
a palm-branch. The date is, probably, of the latter half of the fourth
century.
A bronze ring, intended for a signet. On the bezel is a monogram deeply
cut in reverse, which has been rendered by Rossi, _Deus dona vivas in
Deo_. From Rome, and of the fourth century.
A bronze ring with circular hoop, the bezel engraved with the sacred
monogram. This ring is said to have been found in the neighbourhood of the
house of Pudens.
A bronze ring of coarse workmanship and angular form. The device, two
doves and a fish.
The shoulders of the following bronze ring are engraved as palm branches.
The bezel is raised by four steps or tables, and engraved with a monogram.
From Rome.
A bronze ring with high, projecting bezel. On the square face the subject
of Abraham’s sacrifice is deeply engraved. The execution may be
attributed, perhaps, to the latter end of the third century, but, more
probably, to the fourth. Brought from Viterbo.
Bronze ring, formed as a circle of half-round metal, engraved with a
double-fluked anchor, crossed by one of a single fluke, and surrounded by
a pearl border. From the catacombs at Rome.
Bronze ring, with plain rounded hoop. Device, a draped female standing
between two birds. On either side is the Christian monogram. Found, it is
believed, in the catacombs of St. Calixtus; date, fourth century of our
era.
An iron ring of octagonal form, the bezel engraved with two human figures
and the sacred monogram. A human figure is represented on each face of the
octagon. This is a remarkable ring of its class.
Bronze ring, with bezel shaped as the sole of a shoe, and incised with the
legend IN DEO, in the collection of C. D. E. Fortnum, Esq., F.S.A.:
In Montfaucon’s ‘L’Antiquité Expliquée’ are several illustrations of Roman
rings with the bezels representing a human foot. One seems to have been a
Christian seal, the inscription on which, DEDONAO, is there, perhaps, put
for DEI DONA. Montfaucon mentions one in his own cabinet, inscribed,
between two crosses, DEI DONA.
A bronze stamp, formed as the sole of a shoe, is preserved in the
Christian Museum of the Vatican. Inscription reversed, SPES IN DEO.
A child’s ring of gold. A simple hoop, flattened out on the bezel, which
is engraved with the palm-branch. This ring was found in a child’s tomb in
the neighbourhood of Rome.
Bronze ring, the bezel engraved with the sacred monogram, round which is
placed the inscription, COSME VIVAS. This was discovered in one of the
catacombs on the Via Appia.
A small iron ring, on which is engraved the lion of St. Mark, dating,
probably, from the sixth century. Found in a Coptic grave near the temple
of ‘Medinet Aboo,’ at Thebes.
Mr. Hodder M. Westropp, in his ‘Handbook of Archæology,’ remarks that
Christian inscriptions ‘are all funeral, and are, for the most part, found
in the Catacombs, or subterranean cemeteries of the early Christians in
Rome. They are characterised by symbols and formulæ, peculiar to the
Christian creed; the idea of another life–a life beyond the
grave–usually prevails in them. The symbols found in connection with the
funeral inscriptions are of three kinds; the larger proportion of these
refer to the profession of Christianity, its doctrines and its graces. A
second class, of a partly secular description, only indicate the trades of
the deceased, and the remainder represent proper names; thus a lion must
be named as a proper name, _Leo_; _Onager_, an ass; a dragon,
_Dracontius_. Of the first kind the most usually met with is the monogram
of Christ. The other symbols generally in use are the ship, the emblem of
the church; the fish, the emblem of Christ; the palm, the symbol of
martyrdom; the anchor, representing hope in immortality; the dove, peace;
the stag, reminding the faithful of the pious aspiration of the Psalmist;
the horse was the emblem of strength in the faith; the hunted hare, of
persecution; the peacock and the phœnix stood for signs of the
resurrection; Christ, as the good pastor, and the Α-Ω of the Apocalypse,
was also introduced in the epitaphs. Even personages of the pagan
mythology were introduced, which the Christians employed in a concealed
sense, as Orpheus, enchanting the wild beasts with the music of his lyre
was the secret symbol of Christ, as the civilizer of men, leading all
nations to the faith. Ulysses, fastened to the mast of his ship, was
supposed to present some faint resemblance to the Crucifixion.’

CHAPTER V.BETROTHAL AND WEDDING RINGS.
It would be difficult to find a subject more interesting in all its
associations than a wedding-ring. From the most remote times it has had a
mystical signification, appealing to our most cherished feelings, hopes
and wishes. The circular form of the ring was accepted in days by-gone, as
a symbol of eternity, thus indicative of the stability of affection. We
find some of our noted divines echoing the sentiments of old enthusiasts
on the figurative virtues of a ring. Thus Dean Comber and Wheatley express
themselves: ‘The matter of which this ring is made is gold, signifying how
noble and durable our affection is; the form is round, to imply that our
respect (or regards) shall never have an end; the place of it is on the
fourth finger of the left hand, where the ancients thought there was a
vein that came directly from the heart, and where it may be always in
view; and, being a finger least used, where it may be least subject to be
worn out; but the main end is to be a visible and lasting token of the
covenant which must never be forgotten.’
Jeremy Taylor, in his sermon on a ‘Wedding-ring for the Finger,’ conveys,
in quaint and forcible language, the duties and responsibilities of
married life.[55]
In an old Latin work, ascribing the invention of the ring to Tubal Cain,
we find: ‘The form of the ring being circular, that is, round, and without
end, importeth thus much, that mutual love and hearty affection should
roundly flow from one to the other, as in a circle, and that continually
and for ever.’
Herrick has versified this conceit:–
Julia, I bring
To thee this ring,
Made for thy finger fit;
To show by this
That our love is,
Or should be, like to it.
Close though it be,
The joint is free;
So, when love’s yoke is on,
It must not gall,
Nor fret at all
With hard oppression.
But it must play
Still either way,
And be, too, such a yoke
As not, too wide,
To overslide,
Or be so straight to choke.
So we who bear
This beam, must rear
Ourselves to such a height
As that the stay
Of either may
Create the burthen light.
_And as this round
Is nowhere found
To flaw, or else to sever,
So let our love
As endless prove_,
And pure as gold for ever.
The same idea is conveyed in some lines by Woodward (1730) ‘to Phoebe,
presenting her with a ring:’–
Accept, fair maid, _this earnest of my love_,
_Be this the type_, let this my passion prove;
Thus may our joy in endless circles run,
Fresh as the light, and restless as the sun;
Thus may our lives _be one perpetual round_,
Nor care nor sorrow ever shall be found.
In modern poetry we have many sweet and tender allusions to the
wedding-ring. Thus Byron writes:–
In that one act may every grace
And every blessing have their place,
And give to future hours of bliss
The charm of life derived from this:
And when e’en love no more supplies,
When weary nature sinks to rest,
May brighter, steadier light arise
And make the parting moment blest!
In a collection of poems printed in Dublin (1801) we find some touching
lines to ‘S. D., with a ring:’–
Emblem of happiness, not bought nor sold,
Accept this modest ring of virgin gold.
Love in the small but perfect circle trace,
And duty in its soft yet strict embrace.
Plain, precious, pure, as best becomes the wife;
Yet firm to bear the frequent rubs of life.
Connubial love disdains a fragile toy,
Which rust can tarnish, or a touch destroy,
Nor much admires what courts the gen’ral gaze,
The dazzling diamond’s meretricious blaze,
That hides with glare the anguish of a heart,
By nature hard, tho’ polish’d bright by art.
More to thy taste the ornament that shows
Domestic bliss, and, without glaring, glows;
Whose gentle pressure serves to keep the mind
To all correct, to one discreetly kind;
Of simple elegance th’ unconscious charm,
The only amulet to keep from harm,
To guard at once and consecrate the shrine;
Take this dear pledge–it makes and keeps thee mine.
The most painful ordeal for ‘Patient’ Grisild (in Chaucer’s ‘Clerk’s
Tale’) is the surrender of what she most valued to her imperious lord, the
Marquis, the wedding-ring with which she had espoused him. This, in her
sore affliction, she returns to him:–
Here again your clothing I restore,
And eke your wedding-ring for evermore.
The celebrated Sanscrit drama, which Kalidasa wrote upon the beautiful
Sakuntala, turns upon Dushyanta’s recognition of his wife by means of a
ring which he had given to her.
The tender and affectionate faith derived from the wedding-ring is
illustrated in the legend of Guy, Earl of Warwick. The doughty knight,
when in a moment of temptation he is about to marry the beautiful Loret,
daughter of the Emperor Ernis, is recalled to his duty at the sight of the
wedding-ring, and remembers his fair Félice, who is far distant, pining at
his absence:–
The wedding-ring was forth brought;
Guy, then, on fair Félice thought,
He had her nigh forgotten clean.
‘Alas,’ he said, ‘Félice, the sheen!’
And thought in his heart anon–
‘’Gainst thee now have I misdone!’
Guy said, ‘penance I crave,
None other maid my love shall have.’
We see also the tenderness that a wedding-ring can inspire in the instance
of Louis IX. of France, who in his youth was married to Marguerite of
Provence, the victim of a cruel jealousy on the part of Blanche of
Castile, the King’s mother. The young Prince, who loved his wife dearly,
constantly wore a ring ornamented with a garland of lilies and daisies, in
allusion to his spouse and himself. A magnificent sapphire bore the image
of a crucifix, and the inscription ‘hors cet annel pourrions nous trouver
amour.’
In the German ballad of ‘The Noble Moringer,’ translated by Sir Walter
Scott, the hero, after some years’ absence on a pilgrimage, returns
disguised as a palmer to his castle, on the eve of his wife’s nuptials
with another knight. The lady
——Bade her gallant cup-bearer a golden beaker take,
And bear it to the palmer poor to quaff it for her sake.
It was the noble Moringer, that dropp’d amid the wine
A bridal-ring of burning gold, so costly and so fine.
Now listen, gentles, to my song, it tells you but the sooth,
’Twas with that very ring of gold he pledged his bridal troth.
Then to the cup-bearer he said, ‘Do me one kindly deed,
And, should my better days return, full rich shall be thy meed.
Bear back the golden cup again to yonder bride so gay,
And crave her of her courtesy to pledge the palmer grey.’
The cup-bearer was courtly bred, nor was the boon denied,
The golden cup he took again, and bore it to the bride.
‘Lady,’ he said, ‘your reverend guest sends this and bids me pray
That, in thy noble courtesy, thou pledge the palmer grey.’
The ring hath caught the lady’s eye, she views it close and near,
Then might you hear her shriek aloud, ‘The Moringer is here!’
Then might you see her start from seat, while tears in torrents fell,
But whether ’twas for joy or woe, the ladies best can tell.
The veneration for a wedding-ring is shown in the instance of the great
lexicographer, Dr. Samuel Johnson. He writes, under date March 28, 1753:
‘I kept this day as the anniversary of my Letty’s death, with prayers and
tears in the morning. In the evening I prayed for her conditionally, if
it was lawful.’ Her wedding-ring was preserved by him, as long as he
lived, with an affectionate care, in a little round wooden box, and in the
inside of which was a slip of paper inscribed: ‘Eheu! Eliz. Johnson, nupta
Jul. 9, 1736; mortua, eheu! Mart. 17, 1752.’
According to the ‘London Press,’ Mr. John Lomax, bookseller, of Lichfield,
who died lately at the age of eighty-nine, possessed, among many other
Johnsonian relics, this wedding-ring of Mrs. Johnson.
The poet Moore, in his ‘Diary,’ mentions the gift of his mother, of her
wedding-ring. He writes: ‘Have been preparing my dear mother for my
leaving her, now that I see her so much better. She is quite reconciled to
my going, and said this morning: “Now, my dear Tom, don’t let yourself be
again alarmed about me in this manner, nor hurried away from your house
and business.” She then said she must, before I left her this morning,
give me her wedding-ring as her last gift; and accordingly, sending for
the little trinket-box in which she kept it, she herself put the ring on
my finger.’
The value, even to death, attached to wedding-rings has been frequently
shown. In a testamentary document made at Edinburgh Castle by Mary, Queen
of Scots, before the birth of her son James, and when under the impression
that she would die in childbed, among numerous bequests, she enumerates
her rings, of which she had a large number. Among them was a diamond ring,
enamelled red, recorded by the Queen herself as that with which ‘she was
espoused.’ On the other side is written ‘For the King who gave it me.’
This is presumed to be the ring with which Darnley wedded Mary in the
privacy of Rizzio’s chamber at Stirling, for at the public solemnity of
their nuptials in the Chapel Royal of Holyrood three rings of surpassing
richness were used.
The ring with which James, Duke of York (afterwards King James the
Second), married Mary of Modena, had a small ruby set in gold. The Queen
showed it to the nuns of Chaillot, with whom she resided chiefly in the
days of her sorrowful widowhood, exile, and poverty. Although obliged to
part with most of her jewels, she would never give up this ring, which she
valued above everything. Even William of Orange, remarkable for his stern
and taciturn disposition, felt sensibly the tender feelings which a
marriage-ring can nourish after the death of a beloved object. On his
decease a ribbon was found tied to his left arm, with a gold ring appended
to it, containing some hair of the Queen. The Londesborough Collection
contained a royal ring, which is supposed to have been the same given by
the Prince of Orange to the Princess Mary. It is of gold, the strap and
buckle set with diamonds, and is enamelled black. Engraved in letters in
relief is the motto of the Order of the Garter. The following words are
engraved within: ‘I’ll win and wear thee if I can.’ ‘This posy’ (as the
late Crofton Croker observed) ‘has a double construction; whether
addressed to the princess before marriage or after is doubtful, with
reference to William’s design to contest the crown of England with her
father.’
Baron Rosen was sent a captive to Siberia, in consequence of political
tumults which occurred on the accession of the Emperor Nicholas to the
throne of Russia. On his arrival he was searched, and some family trinkets
taken from him. He was then required to give up a gold ring which he wore
on his finger. He replied: ‘It is my wedding-ring, and you can only have
it by taking the finger also.’ Fortunately the ring was spared.
However, like everything, humanly speaking, the wedding-ring has had its
vicissitudes, and, from being the emblem of all that is pure and holy in
life, has been desecrated to the vilest and most impious of usages.
Nothing can be more humiliating to good faith and rectitude than to read
the accounts of what took place not many years ago concerning the ‘Fleet
Marriages.’ In Burns’ ‘Registers’ of these mock celebrations we read sad
cases of this abominable system, which prevailed in the last century, of
clandestine marriages. A case is there mentioned of a young lady who had
been inveigled into the trap of a marrying parson (?), and, finding
herself unable to escape without money or a pledge, told her persecutors,
who wanted to force a marriage upon her, that she liked the gentleman who
desired to marry her so well that she would meet him on the next night.
She gave them a ring as a pledge, which she said was her mother’s ring,
who enjoined her that if she should marry it was to be her wedding-ring.
By this contrivance ‘she got rid of the black doctor and his tawny crew.’
Great was the disgust of the respectable portion of the community for
these disgraceful alliances. It is recorded in the ‘Daily Post’ for 1742,
of a gentleman possessed of a considerable fortune, that he bequeathed it
in the hands of trustees for his wife, with the proviso that if she
married an Irishman they were to pay her ten guineas for a ‘Fleet’
marriage, a dinner, and ring; the remainder, about eight thousand pounds,
to devolve on his nephew. On a trial for bigamy in 1731, Samuel Pickering
deposed: ‘The prisoner was married at my house in the “Fleet.” I gave her
away, and saw the ring put upon her hand, and broke the biscuit over her
head.’
On the suppression of the Fleet marriages in the middle of the last
century commenced the scandalous Gretna Green marriages–the name derived
from that of a farmstead in the vicinity of the village of Springfield, in
the parish of Graitney, Dumfriesshire. The official who performed these
irregular marriages was of different vocations–sometimes a blacksmith. In
the report of a late Court of Probate case at Westminster, an
agriculturist, Thomas Blythe, admitted that he did a small stroke of
business in the ‘joining’ line as well; and in reply to counsel’s question
‘how the marriage ceremony was performed’ he replied: ‘I first asked them
if they were single persons. They said they were. I then asked the man,
“Do you take this woman for your wife?” He said, “Yes.” I then asked the
woman, “Do you take this man for your lawful husband?” She said, “Yes.” I
then said, “Put on the ring,” and added, “the thing is done, the marriage
is complete.”’
A ring sent as a love-pledge, or token, was in frequent use in former
times. Philip de Comines relates in his ‘Memoirs’ that, a marriage between
the Princess of Burgundy and the Duke of Austria (1477) being determined
upon, a letter was written by the young lady at her father’s command
signifying her consent to the alliance, and a diamond ring of considerable
value was sent as a pledge or token of it. At the time arranged for the
ceremony the Princess was at Ghent, and, in the presence of ambassadors
sent on that occasion, she was asked whether she designed to make good her
promise. The Princess at once replied ‘that she had written the letter and
sent the ring in obedience to her father’s command, and freely owned the
contents of it.’
The engagement by a ring is also historically exemplified in late times by
the notorious intimacy of George the Fourth, when Prince Regent, with Mrs.
Fitzherbert. In order to overcome her scruples to a private marriage (the
Royal Marriage Act having been a bar), the Prince caused himself one day
to be bled, and put on an appearance of having attempted his own life, and
sent some friends to bring her to him. She was then induced to allow him
to engage her with a ring in the presence of witnesses, but she afterwards
broke the engagement, went abroad, and for a long time resisted all the
efforts made to induce her to return. It is singular that one of the chief
instruments in bringing about the union of this ill-assorted pair was the
notorious Philippe Egalité, Duke of Orleans.
In old times rings made of rushes were used for immoral purposes, not only
in England, but in France. Douce refers Shakspeare’s ‘Tib’s rush for Tom’s
forefinger’ to this custom (‘All’s Well that Ends Well,’ act ii. sc. 2).
In D’Avenant’s ‘Rivals’ we find:–
I’ll crown thee with a garland of straw, then,
And I’ll marry thee with a rush ring.
The ‘crack’d’ ring (alluded to in Beaumont and Fletcher’s ‘Captain’)
applied metaphorically to female frailty:–
Come to be married to my lady’s woman,
After she’s crack’d in the ring.
The abuse of the rush ring led to the practice being strictly prohibited
by the constitutions of Richard Poore, Bishop of Salisbury, in 1217; but
it had a long continuance. Quarles, in ‘Shepheard’s Oracles’ (1646),
writes:–
And while they sport and dance, the love-sick swains
Compose rush rings and myrtleberry chains.
In Greene’s ‘Menaphon’ we find:–‘’Twas a good world when such simplicitie
was used, saye the olde women of our time, when a ring of a rush would tye
as much love together as a gimmon of gold.’
The practice of the rush ring in France prevailed for a considerable
period.
Another equivocal pretence for engagement was the ring of St. Martin,[56]
so named from the extensive franchises and immunities granted to the
inhabitants of the precincts of the Collegiate Church of St.
Martin’s-le-Grand. In a rare tract, entitled ‘The Compter’s Commonwealth’
(1617), is an allusion to these rings, which shows their import: ‘This
kindnesse is but like alchimie, or _Saint Martin’s rings_, that are faire
to the eye and have a rich outside, but if a man should break them asunder
and looke into them, they are nothing but brasse and copper.’
In ‘Whimsies, or a New Cast of Character’ (1631), mention is made of St.
Martin’s rings and counterfeit bracelets as ‘commodities of infinite
consequence. They will passe for current at a May-pole, and purchase a
favour from their May-Marian.’
So also in ‘Plaine Percevall, the Peace-maker of England’: ‘I doubt
whether all be gold that glistereth, sith St. Martin’s rings be but copper
within, though they be gilt without, sayes the goldsmith.’
The materials of which wedding-rings have been made are numerous; besides
the various metals, we have an instance of a leather ring made on the spur
of the moment out of a piece of kid cut from the bride’s glove. As a
substitute for the usual ring, the church key has been put into
requisition. Horace Walpole, in a letter to Mr. (afterwards Sir Robert)
Mann, dated July 27, 1752, alludes to the use of a curtain-ring for this
purpose: ‘The event which has made most noise since my last is the
extensive wedding of the youngest of the two Gunnings,’ and he then
describes an assembly at Lord Chesterfield’s, when the Duke of Hamilton
made love to Miss Gunning, and two nights after sent for a parson to
perform the marriage ceremony. The Doctor refused to act without a licence
and a ring. ‘The Duke swore he would send for the Archbishop; at last they
were married with a ring of the bed-curtain, at half-an-hour past twelve
at night, at May Fair Chapel.’
In ‘Notes and Queries’ (2nd series, vol. x.) we find an editorial note on
this subject. A parish clerk recollected an instance of a party that came
to the church, and requested to be married with the church key. It was
what is called a ‘parish wedding,’ and the parochial authorities, though
willing to pay the church fees, because ‘they were glad to get rid of the
girl,’ had not felt disposed to furnish the wedding-ring. The clerk
stated, however, that, feeling some hesitation as to the substitution of
the church key in his _own_ church, he stepped into the great house hard
by, and there borrowed an old _curtain-ring_, with which the marriage was
solemnised.
Sir John Suckling, in his ballad on a ‘Wedding,’ has this conceit on a
ring:–
Her fingers were so small, the ring
Would not stay on which they did bring,
It was too wide a peck:
And to say truth, for out it must,
It look’d like the great collar, just
About our young colt’s neck.
Perhaps one of the smallest wedding-rings on record is that which is
mentioned in the _fiançailles_ of the Princess Mary, daughter of Henry
VIII., to the Dauphin of France, son of King Francis I. The _fiancé_ was
represented on that occasion by Admiral Bonnivet, the French Ambassador.
The dauphin was born February 28, 1518, and the event of his birth was
made a matter of State policy, for a more intimate alliance with France.
On October 5, in the same year, the bridal ceremonies took place at
Greenwich with great pomp. King Henry took his station in front of the
throne; on one side stood Marie of France, and Queen Katherine; in front
of her mother was the Princess Marie, just _two_ years old, dressed in
cloth of gold, with a cap of black velvet on her head, blazing with
jewels. On the other side stood the two legates, Wolsey and Campeggio.
After a speech by Dr. Tunstal, the Princess was taken in arms; the consent
of the King and Queen was demanded, and Wolsey approached with a
diminutive ring of gold, fitted to the young lady’s finger, in which was a
valuable diamond. Admiral Bonnivet, as proxy for the baby bridegroom,
passed it over the second joint. The bride was blessed, and mass performed
by Wolsey, the King and the whole Court attending it.
The blessing of the wedding-ring is of ancient origin. The form prescribed
for the ‘halowing’ is given in ‘The Doctrine of the Masse Booke from
Wottonberge, by Nicholas Dorcaster,’ 1554: ‘Thou Maker and Conserver of
mankinde, Gever of Spiritual Grace, and Grauntor of Eternal Salvation,
Lord, _send thy + blessing upon this ring_, that she which shall weare it
maye be armed wyth the virtue of heavenly defence, and that it may profit
her to eternal salvation, thorowe Christ,’ etc. A prayer followed this: ‘+
halow Thou, Lord, this ring which we blesse in Thy holye Name, that what
woman soever shall weare it, may stand fast in Thy peace, and continue in
Thy wyll, and live, and grow, and wax old in Thy love, and be multiplied
into the length of daies, thorow our Lord,’ etc.
Rings were formerly placed on the missal book, with money at marriages;
thus in the ‘Wardrobe Book,’ roll 18, of Edward the First, there is an
entry of ‘money given to place upon the missal book, along with the ring
with which she was married, 40_s._’
A similar entry occurs on the marriage of Margaret, fourth daughter of the
same monarch, when the King gave sixty shillings to be placed on the
missal with the spousal ring.
The ‘heathenish origin,’ as it was termed, of the wedding-ring, led during
the Commonwealth to the abolition of its use during weddings, and is thus
referred to in Butler’s ‘Hudibras:’–
Others were for abolishing
That tool of matrimony, a ring,
With which the unsanctified bridegroom
Is marry’d only to a thumb[57]
(As wise as ringing of a pig,
That’s used to break up ground and dig),
The bride to nothing but her will
That nulls the after-marriage still.
This ‘heathenish’ origin may have been derived from the supposition that
the ring was regarded as a kind of phylactery, or charm, and to have been
introduced in imitation of the ring worn by bishops.
‘Though the Puritans,’ remarks Mr. Jeaffreson, in his ‘Brides and
Bridals,’ ‘prohibited and preached against the ring, to the injury of
goldsmiths, and the wrath of ring-wearing matrons, they did not succeed in
abolishing the tool, or even in putting it so much out of fashion as some
people imagined. Even Stephen Marshall, the Presbyterian minister of
Finchingfield, Essex, when his party was most prosperous, married one of
his lightly-trained daughters with the Book of Common Prayer and a ring;
and gave this for a reason, that the statute establishing the Liturgy was
not repealed, and he was loth to have his daughter turned back upon him
for want of a legal marriage.’
The Rev. George Bull, subsequently Bishop of St. David’s, also in these
Presbyterian times, who married a Miss Gregory, in defiance of tyrannical
enactments used a wedding-ring with the motto: ‘Bene parere, parêre,
parare det mihi Deus.’ (See chapter on ‘Posy, Motto, and Inscription
Rings.’)
The Puritan scruples against the wedding-ring were much criticised at the
time:–
Because the wedding-ring’s a fashion old,
And signifies, by the purity of gold,
The purity required i’ the married pair,
And by the rotundity the union fair,
Which ought to be between them endless, for
No other reason, we that use abhor.
_A Long-winded Lay-lecture_ (published 1674).
They will not hear of wedding-rings
For to be us’d in their marriage;
But say they’re superstitious things,
And do religion much disparage:
They are but vain, and things profane;
Wherefore, now, no wit bespeaks them,
So to be tyed unto the bride,
But do it as the spirit moves them.
_A Curtain-lecture_ (‘Loyal Songs,’ vol. i No. 15).
The objections of the Dissenters to the ring in marriage were answered by
Dr. Comber, (‘Office of Matrimony,’ &c., folio edition, part 4,) by Dr.
Nicholls upon the Office of Matrimony, and Wheatley in his ‘Rational
Illustration.’
In the ancient ritual of marriage the ring was placed by the husband on
the top of the thumb of the left hand, with the words, ‘In the name of the
Father;’ he then removed it to the forefinger, saying, ‘and of the Son,’
then to the middle finger, adding, ‘and of the Holy Ghost;’ finally he
left it on the fourth finger, with the closing word ‘Amen.’
The English ‘Book of Common Prayer’ orders that the ring should be placed
on the fourth finger of the woman’s left hand. The spousal manuals of York
and Salisbury assign this practical reason for the selection of this
finger: ‘quia in illo digito est quædam vena procedens usque ad cor.’[58]
Other reasons than its connection with the heart are assigned by
Macrobius. The author of the ‘Vulgar Errors’ had entirely overthrown the
anatomical fiction.
On the subject of ring-fingers, a ‘Polyglot Dictionary’ by John Minshew
(1625) says: ‘Vetus versiculus singulis digitis Annulum tribuens, Miles,
Mercator, Stultus, Maritus, Amator. Pollici adscribitur Militi, seu
Doctori; Mercatorum, a pollice secundum; Stultorum, tertium; Nuptorum vel
Studiosorum, quartinum; Amatorum, ultimum.’
Amongst the Hebrews, the finger of God denoted his power, and it was the
forefingers of the gods of Greece and Italy which wore the ring, the
emblem of divine supremacy.
Why the ring is worn on the left hand is said to signify the subjection of
the wife to the husband; the right hand signifies power, independence,
authority, the left dependence or subjection.[59] Columbiere remarks:
‘Some of the ancients made the ring to denote servitude, alleging that
the bridegroom was to give it to his bride, to denote to her that she is
to be subject to him, which Pythagoras seemed to confirm when he suggested
wearing a straight ring, that is, not to submit to over-rigid servitude.’
It is very observable that none of the Hereford, York, and Salisbury
missals mention the hand, whether right or left, on which the ring is to
be put.
In the ‘British Apollo’ (vol. i. page 127, edit. MDCCXXVI.) a question is
asked: ‘Why is it that the person to be married is enjoined to put a ring
upon the fourth finger of his spouse’s left hand?’ The answer is: ‘There
is nothing more in this than that the custom was handed down to the
present age, from the practice of our ancestors, who found the left hand
more convenient for such ornaments than the right, in that ’tis ever less
employed; for the same reason they chose the fourth finger, which is not
only less used than either of the rest, but is more capable of preserving
a ring from bruises, having this one quality peculiar to itself, that it
cannot be extended but in company with some other finger, whereas the rest
may be singly stretched to their full length and straightened. Some of the
ancients’ opinions in the matter, viz. that the ring was so worn because
to that finger, and to that only, comes an artery from the heart; but, the
politer knowledge of our modern anatomists having clearly demonstrated the
absurdity of that notion, we are rather inclined the continuance of the
custom owing to the reason above mentioned.’
These explanations, given in the curious and entertaining miscellany, from
which I have quoted, are from the writings of Macrobius, to which I have
alluded. These appear to settle the contention as to the proper finger for
the wedding-ring.
‘Rings in modern times,’ remarks Madame de Barrera, ‘have been made in
some countries Love’s telegraph. If a gentleman wants a wife, he wears a
ring on the first finger of the left hand; if he be engaged, he wears it
on the second finger; if married, on the third; and on the fourth if he
never intends to be married. When a lady is not engaged she wears a hoop
or diamond on her first finger; if engaged, on her second; if married, on
the third; and on the fourth, if she intends to die a maid. As no rules
are given for widows, it is presumed that the ornamenting of the right
hand, and the little finger of the left, is exclusively their
prerogative.’
‘This English fashion is, perhaps, too open a proclamation of intentions
to suit such as do not choose to own themselves as mortgaged property.’
The Greek Church directs that the ring be put on the right hand, and such
may have been the practice in England, since Rastell, in his
counter-challenge to Bishop Jewell, notes it as a novelty of the
Reformation ‘that the man should put the wedding-ring on the fourth finger
in the left hand of the woman, and not in the right hand as hath been many
hundreds of years continued.’
With the bridal ring, formerly, were delivered the keys of the house. This
is of ancient origin, as I have noticed in mentioning the rings of the
Romans. We read in Photius that Theosebius says to his wife: ‘I formerly
gave to thee the ring of union; now of temperance to aid thee in the
seemly custody of my house.’ He advisedly speaks of that custody, for the
lady of the house in Plautus says:–
Obsignate cellas, referte annulum ad me,
Ego huc transes.
Some Roman keys attached to rings, so as to be worn on the fingers, and
which are well known to antiquaries, were recently found at Water Newton,
in digging for gravel, close to the road from Stamford to Peterborough.
These were of brass and bronze, and of the size used by the Roman ladies,
who were accustomed to carry their casket-keys in this manner.
Mr. Waterton suggests that the key-rings found on Roman sites may have
been worn by slaves or by the confidential _servi_ who had care of the
wardrobes, cabinets, &c., of their masters.
Among the old Northmen, the keys of the store-room were occasionally
deputed to the wife on the wedding-day, and were carried at her side as a
sign of housewifely dignity.
In the Saxon formula of matrimony, the father of the bride said: ‘I give
thee my daughter to be thy honour and thy wife, to keep thy keys, and to
share with thee in thy bed and goods, in the name of the Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost.’
Leybard, the famous saint of Tours, in the sixth century, being persuaded
in his youth to marry, gave his betrothed a ring, a kiss, and a pair of
shoes–the latter being a sign of his great subjection to her and to bind
his feet, the ring binding his hands.
A MS. in the Harleian library, quoted by Strutt, states that ‘by the civil
law, whatsoever is given _ex sponsalitia largitate_, betwixt them that are
promised in marriage, hath a condition (for the most part silent) that it
may be had again if marriage ensue not, but if the man should have had a
kiss for his money, he should lose one half of that which he gave. Yet
with the woman it is otherwise, for, kissing or not kissing, whatsoever
she gave, she may ask and have it again.’ However, this extends only to
gloves, _rings_, bracelets, and such like small wares.
Plain gold wedding-rings which are at present used as a visible pledge of
matrimony, seem to have descended to us in the mere course of traditionary
practice from the times of the Saxons, without any impulse from written
authority or rubric. At the marriage of Queen Mary with Philip of Spain in
1554 the wedding-ring was laid in the Bible to be hallowed. Some
discussion had previously taken place in the Council about this ring,
which the Queen decided by declaring that she would not have it adorned
with gems, ‘for she chose to be wedded with a plain hoop of gold, like
other maidens.’[60]
Plain gold rings appear to have been given away at weddings in great
numbers at this period; thus Anthony Wood writes that ‘Killey (in 1589) at
Trebona was equally profuse beyond the limits of a sober philosopher, and
did give away in gold-wire rings (twisted), at the marriage of one of his
maid-servants to the value of four thousand pounds.’
The Prince Regent, on the celebration of his unhappy marriage with
Caroline of Brunswick, presented a number of rings to the members of his
family and friends. These gifts, with other accounts, being in the list
for settlement by Parliament later, gave rise to the undignified Jeffreys
scandal.
At the marriage of Queen Victoria, rings were distributed having the royal
likeness in profile in gold; the legend being ‘Victoria Regina.’ The whole
was less than a quarter of an inch in diameter, but with the aid of a
powerful magnifying-glass the features were disclosed, beautifully
delineated. The Queen was so pleased with this microscopic work of art
that she ordered six dozen impressions to be struck and set by the court
jewellers, Rundle and Bridges, in gold rings for distribution among
distinguished personages.[61]
At the marriage of the Princess Royal of England, in 1858, to the heir of
the now German Empire, the wedding-rings used were of Silesian gold,
manufactured at Breslau. The maker of these, who has a large gold-refining
establishment in that town, had the two rings mounted on a skin of
parchment, on which was engrossed a short history of his gold-works at
Richenstein, from which we learn that in former days Silesia was a
California on a small scale, gold not only being obtained by mining, but
by washing the sands of certain rivers. In the form of a heading to an
historical document, the two gold wedding-rings were presented to the
Prince.
To give an idea of the immense number of plain gold wedding-rings required
in the present day, it is stated that no less than thirty thousand have
passed through the Birmingham Assay Office in one year.
As pledges of betrothal, or wedding gifts, rings are of very ancient
origin. They were worn by the Jews prior to Christian times, and
constitute, even at present, an important feature in their marriage
ceremonials. Wheatley says: ‘The reason why a ring was pitched upon for
the pledge, rather than anything else, was because anciently the ring was
a seal, by which all orders were signed, and things of value secured, and
therefore the delivery of it was a sign that the person to whom it was
given was admitted into the highest friendship and trust. For which reason
it was adopted as a ceremony in marriage to denote that the wife, in
consideration of being espoused to the man, was admitted as a sharer in
her husband’s counsels, and a joint partner in his honour and estate, and
therefore we find that not only the _ring_, but the _keys_, were, in
former times delivered to her at the marriage.’
A passage in Ruth (chap. iv. verse 7) gives some reason to suppose that
the ring was used by the Jews, as a covenant, in making agreements,
grants, &c., whence the wedding engagement by a ring may have been
derived. Leo Modena, in his ‘History of the Rites, Customs, and Manner of
Life of the Present Jews throughout the World’ (translated by Edm.
Chilmead, 8vo.; London, 1650), alluding to the Jewish manner of marrying,
states that ‘before the bride’s dowry is produced and read, the bridegroom
putteth a ring upon her finger, in the presence of two witnesses, which
commonly used to be the Rabbines, saying, withal, unto her: “Behold thou
art my espoused wife, according to the custom of Moses and of Israel.”’
Selden says that rings were first given in lieu of dowry-money,[62] and
that the wedding-ring came into general use by the Jews _after_ they saw
it was everywhere prevalent. These Jewish rings were, in past ages,
generally of large size and elaborate workmanship. Some curious examples
are mentioned in the Londesborough Collection Catalogue. One ring,
formerly belonging to the late Crofton Croker, is of German or Flemish
work of the seventeenth century. It is of brass, with three points, or
bosses, and belongs to a class of ring called Mazul-touv (pronounced
_Mussul-taub_), or, freely translated, ‘Joy be with you,’ or ‘Good luck to
you.’ In the same collection is a Jewish ‘tower’ betrothal ring, enamelled
blue, of the sixteenth century. Another betrothal ring belongs to the same
class and date, called ‘temple,’ or ‘tower,’ from the figure of the sacred
temple placed on their summit. In one of the Londesborough specimens it
takes the form of a sexagonal building with a domed roof of an Eastern
character; in another it is square, with a deeply-pitched roof, having
movable vanes at the angles, and is probably the work of some German
goldsmith. On the former of these rings the inscription is in enamelled
letters, ‘Joy be with you;’ and the same words are in more
richly-designed letters on the curve of the latter ring.
A ring of gold, enamelled and decorated with five blue enamelled rosettes
and five filigree bosses. The roof only of the temple surmounts the ring;
it is decorated with light-green enamel, it opens on a hinge, and exhibits
beneath the letters טוב. From the Londesborough Collection.
A remarkably fine example of these rings is in the Braybrooke Collection.
It has five filigree bosses equidistant along the broad exterior, which is
also ornamented with filagree scroll-work, filled with blue and white
enamel; the summit of the hoop is surmounted by a pyramid-shaped tower
opening upon a hinge, but without any inscription, which is often covered
by it. In this case the word or words are engraved on the inside of the
ring, and are probably _Mazul-touv_ or _Mussul-taub_ (‘Joy be with you’).
The tower is to represent the ark of the covenant; the bosses or points
are sometimes supposed to represent the number of witnesses at the
ceremony required by law of the Jews. The points or bosses consist of
rosettes with six leaves, each of blue, and six leaves of white, enamel.
The pyramidical ark has the sides filled with blue enamel only; on the two
narrow sides there is a small perforation to represent the window, in
allusion to the dove.
A large silver-gilt Hebrew wedding-ring, in the same collection, is of a
remarkable form. The hoop is three-quarters of an inch wide, with raised
edges, and plain surface between the five elevations on its upper portion.
The centre one of these is a hexagonal tower, with pent-house roof sloping
on each side to the course of the hoop; the gables and sides of these are
pierced with fourteen holes for windows, and the roof is scored to imitate
tiles; on each side of this is a smaller bell-shaped tower, equidistant
from it, with four circular holes in them; and on each side of these last
is a still smaller tower of the same shape, and at an equal distance, but
without any windows. There is not the usual inscription on any part of
this ring.
The annexed illustrations, from rings in the Bailewski Collection,
represent a gold Jewish ring of the thirteenth century, and one of the
fourteenth century.
In the collection of the late Lady Fellows was a fine Jewish betrothal
ring of gold decorated with filigree and enamel. Instead of any setting,
the head is formed with a steep ridge, like the roof a house, opening on
hinges; within is a cavity, closed by a lid, and probably intended to
contain a charm or pastille. On the inner side of the hoop are engraved
two Hebrew words signifying good fortune.
In a communication from Mr. Singer (whose unique collection of
wedding-rings with inscriptions I have noticed in the chapter on ‘Posy,
Inscription, and Motto Rings’) he informs me that he has a fine Hebrew
ring of sixteenth-century work–‘a _real_ old one, as most of those now
about are forgeries. This has the Hebrew word “mussul taub” in a short
Hebrew character, meaning “We wish you good luck,” engraved on the
inside.’
According to Jewish law in modern times, it is necessary that the ring
should be of a certain value. It is therefore examined and certified by
the officiating Rabbi and the chief officers of the synagogue, when it is
received by the bridegroom. When absolute property it must not be obtained
by credit or by gift. When this is properly certified the ring is returned
to him, and he places it on the bride’s finger, calling attention to the
fact that she is by these means, consecrated to him. So completely binding
is this action that, should the marriage be no further consecrated, no
other could be contracted by either party, without a legal divorce.
The Rev. C. W. King, in ‘Antique Gems,’ remarks that huge gold rings
adorned with filigree-work and surmounted by a small temple, with Hebrew
inscriptions on the interior of the shank, puzzle the beholders as to
their use, being much too large for the finger. They were made for the
use of the synagogue, and are placed on the finger of the couple at a
certain part of the marriage rites.
Mr. Singer, in describing the Hebrew wedding-ring in his collection, adds:
‘The Hebrews married on the first finger, as to the ring. This is done
now, but even the Jews change a little, and after the ceremony the Jewish
ladies take off their ring, and place it on the third finger, the same as
we do, for now they wear the ordinary ring.’
The following illustrations represent the marriage-rings of the German
Jews, the workmanship of the sixteenth century, and very fine specimens of
art. Both are of gold; the larger one is richly ornamented in filigree
with enamels of light and dark green. It is crowned by a house; the roof,
which is covered with enamelled tiles, opens by means of a key, and the
space within serves for perfumes or some souvenir. Four small crowns of
gold are suspended from the ring.
The other, smaller in size, is also richly decorated, but is crowned with
only the roof of a house, enamelled white and red. The enamels which
decorate the other parts of the ring are white.
The wedding-rings of the Romans were generally of iron, called
‘Pronubum,’[63] symbolical of the lasting character of the engagement, and
probably springing out of another Roman custom, the giving of a ring as
earnest, upon the conclusion of a bargain.
It was the custom to betroth before marriage, as it is at this day. They
that acted between the two parties were called ‘Proxenetæ,’ ‘Auspices,’
and ‘Pronubi,’ which last name was very much in use. When the
marriage-maker was a woman she was called ‘Pronuba’; and it was a
condition that such a one was to have had but one husband. They arranged
about the portion, and other marriage articles, which conditions were
afterwards written on tablets, and sealed with the ring called _annulus
signatorius_.
The ring was used in marriage among Christians as early as 860. Pronubal
or pledge rings passed between the contracting parties among the Romans.
When the marriage settlement had been properly sealed, rings, bearing the
names of the newly-married couple, were handed round to the guests.
There were others, also, of pure gold and a plain circle (_linea
infinita_) to symbolise conjugal fidelity, and to act as a reminder that
the love of married people should be infinite. Kirchmann asserts that in
Rome the custom was to place in the hand of the newly-made bride a ring of
pure gold, at the same moment in which a ring of iron was sent to the
house of her parents, a remembrance of modesty and domestic frugality.
In the possession of A. W. Franks, Esq., M.A., F.R.S., F.S.A., is a gold
ring, remarkable for the amount of the ornamentation with which it is
covered. This fine Byzantine _bicephalic_ ring was, doubtless, used as a
signet, and was, possibly, a matrimonial or betrothal gift. It has been
suggested that the heads resemble those of the Emperor Leo I. and Verina
(A.D. 457-74), but it is doubtful whether they are imperial portraits. It
is presumed that this ring was found in Egypt, where it had been preserved
in the Demetrio Collection (‘Arch. Journal,’ vol. xxix. page 305).
A loadstone sometimes was set instead of a jewel, indicative of love’s
attractions.
Later, however, Tertullian and Isidore, Bishop of Seville, mention the
‘annulus nuptialis sponsalitius,’ as being of gold. Sometimes there were
inscriptions on the rings, such as ‘May you live long!’ ‘I bring you good
fortune!’ Frequently a stone was inserted upon which was engraved an
intaglio, such as a hand pulling the lobe of an ear, and the words
‘Remember me’ above it.
Among the old Northmen, the exchanging of rings between the betrothed did
not form, so far as can be ascertained from the ancient sagas and laws,
any essential part in the wedding ceremonial, neither in pagan, nor in
Christian times. Mention is, however, made of an exchange of rings, but
this was only done as a kind of memorial gift, and no importance was
attached to it. The custom of the betrothal ring was first introduced into
Norway at a much later period, in imitation of that in vogue in southern
countries.
In the ‘Sword,’ Tyrfing, in the ‘Hervarer-Saga,’ the Princess Ingburgo,
who is betrothed to Hialmar, says to the latter, as he is leaving for
battle: ‘I swear by Varra,’ presenting to him her ring in pledge, ‘that to
whomever Uller gives victory, I am the bride but of one.’
Viga Glum’s ‘Saga’ we read of the Scandinavian use of a ring. In the midst
of a wedding-party Glum calls upon Thorarin, his accuser, to hear his
oath, and, taking in his hand a silver ring which had been dipped in
sacrificial blood, he cites two witnesses to testify to his oath on the
ring. ‘In Iceland’ (remarks Mr. Wood, in his ‘Wedding-days in all
Countries’) ‘a large ring was used for the ratification of all
engagements; it was variously formed of bone, jet, stone, gold, and
silver. Sometimes it was so large as to allow the palm of the hand to be
passed through it. So in the solemnisation of a betrothing contract the
bridegroom passed four fingers and his palm through one of these rings,
and in this manner he received the hand of his bride. Sometimes these
rings for confirming mutual contracts were placed upon the altar and there
used. We may, perhaps, trace this custom in the old form of marriage in
the Orkneys, where the contracting parties join their hands through a
perforation, or ring, in a stone pillar.’
Among the Anglo-Saxons, at the betrothal of a young couple, after the
taking of hands, an exchange of presents was made. Amongst those given by
the bridegroom was a ring, which, after being blessed by the priest with a
prayer, was placed on the maiden’s right hand, and was to be worn so until
the time of marriage. On this event, if espousals had previously taken
place (for they were not necessary), the ring was removed by the
bridegroom to the bride’s left hand, and was placed on the first finger,
having been blessed by the priest with a prayer.
Betrothal rings sometimes bore the name and title of the Saviour in full;
one in the Londesborough Collection represents two hands clasped in front,
so that it was, most probably, a gift, or betrothal ring. It is of silver,
somewhat rudely fashioned. The inscription is in uncial characters, and,
shorn of its somewhat awkward abbreviation, reads: ‘Jesus Nazareneus Rex.’
Mr. H. T. Wake, of Cockermouth, gives the following account of a curious
betrothal ring in ‘Notes and Queries’ (Series v. vol. ii. p. 528): ‘In a
small shrubbery, adjoining a house at Mosser, near Cockermouth, has
recently been found a massive finger-ring, of fine gold. When discovered,
it was lying on the surface, but is supposed to have been removed, along
with some mould, from a garden at the back of the house, a short time
previously. It is plain inside, without any hall-mark, but the exterior is
polygonal in shape, having the following inscription engraved in large
capitals on thirteen facets, viz.:–
x | 10 | sv | 1 ⫶ s | ig | n | e ⫶ | de | am | is | t | e ⫶ | a
‘The posy seems to be: “Josui signe de amis te,” and to mean “Joshua’s
token of love to thee,” the A following being the initial of the young
woman to whom it was presented. I take it to be a betrothal ring of the
eleventh or twelfth century; and from the admixture of the Roman and
Gothic E in the inscription, which peculiarly appears also in the great
seal of William the Conqueror, in the word “EVNDE,” as well also from its
being in French, it is probably as old as the Norman period. I bought it
of the farmer’s wife who found it.’
A betrothal ring, in the collection of the Rev. James Beck, has two hearts
surmounted by a crown–denoting the sovereignty of love over the
heart–set with marcasites.
A silver ring of a similar import, found at Carlisle, is here represented,
and from the clasped hands, crowned, was evidently a betrothal ring.
In the Middle Ages, solemn betrothal by means of the ring often preceded
matrimony.
Henry, Duke of Saxony and Bavaria, married Matilda, eldest daughter of
Henry the Second, King of England, in 1168. A picture of this event was
painted at the time, and afterwards hung up in the church of St. Blosius,
at Brunswick, which is engraved by Scheidius in his ‘Origines Guelficæ,’
Matilda is represented as holding the plight-ring, a golden hoop, adorned
in the centre with a magnificent brilliant, but she seems much at a loss
to know what to do with it.
In 1235 an embassy was sent to make a formal petition for the hand of
Isabella, second daughter of King John of England, from the Emperor
Frederick of Germany. She was presented with a plight-ring, and as the
chief of the embassy, Peter de Vineâ, placed it on her finger, he formally
declared her the empress of the whole Roman empire. Isabella, on her part,
sent a ring to the Emperor in token of her acceptance of his troth.
In the ‘Dutch Courtezan,’ an old play, a pair of lovers are introduced
plighting their troth. Beatrice says to Fréeville: ‘I give you faith, and
prethee, since, poore soule, I am so easie to believe thee, make it much
more pitty to deceive me. Weare this sleight favour in my remembrance.’
(Throweth down a ring to him.)
_Fréeville._ ‘Which when I part from,
Hope, the best of life, ever part from me!
Graceful mistresse, our nuptiall day holds.’
_Beatrice._ ‘With happy constancye a wished day.’
In the ‘Merchant of Venice’ Bassanio and Gratiano give the rings received
from Portia and Nerissa to the young doctor and his clerk, after the
discomfiture of Shylock, although Portia had said:–
This house, these servants, and this same myself,
Are yours, my lord; I give them with this ring:
Which, when you part from, lose, or give away,
Let it presage the ruin of your love,
And be my vantage to exclaim on you.
Bassanio answers:–
When this ring
Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence;
O, then be bold to say, Bassanio’s dead.
Solemn betrothal was sometimes adopted by lovers, who were about to
separate for long periods. Thus Chaucer, in ‘Troilus and Cressida,’
describes the heroine as giving her lover a ring, and receiving one from
him in return:–
Soon after this they spake of sundry things,
As fell to purpose of this aventure,
And, playing, interchangeden their rings,
Of which I cannot tellen no scripture.
Shakspeare has more than one allusion to this custom, which is absolutely
enacted in the ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona,’ when Julia gives Proteus a ring,
saying: ‘Keep you this remembrance for thy Julia’s sake,’ and he replies:
‘Why, then we’ll make exchange:–here, take you this.’ A ritual of
Bordeaux (1596) gives a form of betrothal by public ceremony, when rings
were interchanged. Kleist, in his ‘Kate of Heilbron,’ makes Frederick
say:–
To tally close,
As joints of rings dissever’d,
alluding to the custom sometimes practised by lovers, among the common
people, plighting a faith, when a ring is broken in two, one half of which
was kept by each party, that if from time to time, or at the day of
marriage, the two pieces agree with each other, proof may be thus afforded
that they have not been transferred, and consequently that both bride and
bridegroom remain still of the same mind; otherwise, the engagement is
annulled.
A ring of pure gold she from her finger took,
And just in the middle the same then she broke;
Quoth she: ‘As a token of love you this take,
And this, as a pledge, I will keep for your sake.’
(‘Exeter Garland.’)
De Laet, writing in 1647, states that he remembers when it was the custom
(and an ancient one) for the gentleman to present the lady on their
betrothal with two rings, the one set with a diamond, the other with a
ruby table-cut. This gift went by the French name ‘Mariage.’
Among the Germans at the present day the interchange of rings is practised
at the publication of the banns among the Lutherans; the minister joins
the hands of the couple, and rings are interchanged.
‘The Italians,’ observes Mr. Wood, ‘in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries used betrothing rings, which were generally made of silver,
inlaid with niello. The bezel was either oval or circular, and the
shoulders of the hoop were shaped so as to form sleeves, from each of
which issued a right hand. The hands were clasped together in the Fede.
Some of these rings were of a large size, and were worn by men. The
diamond was long esteemed by the mediæval Italians as the favourite stone
for setting in espousal rings, and it was called “pietra della
reconciliazione,” from its supposed power to maintain concord between man
and wife.’
It was also usual, at the periods mentioned, for the Italian ladies to
give their lovers rings which contained their portraits. Lovers wore these
rings on holidays, as was the practice in England, as we find in
‘England’s Helicon’ (1600):–
My songs they be of Cinthia’s prayse,
I weare her rings on holly-dayes.
When a noble Venetian married in the seventeenth century, a day was
appointed for giving the bride a ring, and the ceremony was performed in
her house, in the presence of relations and friends. The ring-giving was
followed by the usual sacrament in church.
In modern Greece, two rings, one of gold and the other of silver, are
interchanged at the betrothal, which takes place as follows:–The priest,
remaining in the sacrarium, delivers to the persons to be betrothed, and
who are standing without the sacred doors, lighted candles into the hands
of each, and then returns with them into the body of the church. Here,
after prayers have been said, two rings are brought out, of gold and
silver respectively, which had previously been placed upon the altar to be
dedicated and consecrated, and the priest gives the gold ring to the man,
and the silver ring to the woman, repeating three times this form of
words: ‘The servant of God, M., espouses the handmaid of God, N., in the
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, now and ever,
and to endless ages, Amen.’
After a threefold repetition of the same words to the woman, the rings are
put on the right-hand finger, and are taken off, and interchanged by the
bridegroom’s man, both in order that the woman may not take too deeply to
heart her inferiority, which the less costly material of the ring seems to
hint at, as also to confirm the mutual right and possession of property,
either present or future.
The ring ceremony in Russian marriages differs materially from that of
English usage. In the first place, there are two rings, and these are
changed three times. The man places the ring first on the woman’s finger,
then the priest changes the man’s ring, and places it on her finger, and
then again the priest and the man join and place the ring where it is to
remain for life.
Have these _three_ changes anything in connection with a peculiarity in
Russian legends of the ever-predominating number ‘three’? Thus fathers are
said usually to have three sons, the heroes and knights-errant ride
through three times nine empires; the bravest are always thirty-three
years old; they achieve their deeds only on the third attempt. Or, are the
three changes emblematic of the Trinity?
At the Russian marriages of the Imperial family the rings are exchanged by
a third person. At the wedding of the Duke of Edinburgh and the Grand
Duchess Marie Alexandrovna, daughter of the Emperor of Russia (January 23,
1874), the master of the ceremonies carried the marriage rings on plates
of gold, and placed them on the altar. The confessor of the Emperor and
Empress then received the rings from the Archipretres of the court, and,
whilst a prayer was being said, placed them upon the fingers of the bride
and bridegroom, when the Metropolitan began the office.
In Spain the gift of a ring is looked upon as a promise of marriage, and
is considered sufficient proof to enable a maiden to claim her husband.
Among the Armenians (observes Madame de Barrera) children are betrothed
from their earliest youth, sometimes when only three years old, sometimes
as soon as born. When the mothers on both sides have agreed to marry their
son and daughter, they propose the union to their husbands, who always
sanction the choice of the wives. The mother of the boy then goes to the
friends of the girl, with two old women and a priest, and presents to the
infant maiden a ring from the future bridegroom. The boy is then brought,
and the priest reads a portion of the Scripture, and blesses the parties.
The parents of the girl make the priest a present, in accordance with
their means; refreshments are partaken of by the company, and this
constitutes the ceremonies of the betrothals. Should the betrothals take
place during the infancy of the contracting parties, and even should
twenty years elapse before the boy can claim his bride, he must every
year, from the day he gives the ring, send his mistress at Easter a new
dress, &c.
The olden matrimonial Gemmel, or Gemmow, ring was a kind of double ring,
curiously made. There were links within each other, and though generally
double, they were, by a further refinement, made triple, or even more
complicated; thus Herrick writes:–
Thou sent’st to me a true love-knot, but I
Return a ring of jimmals, to imply
Thy love had one knot, mine a triple tye.
Ray, among his north-country words, explains ‘jimmers’ as ‘jointed
hinges,’ and adds, ‘in other parts called wing-hinges.’
At a meeting of the Archæological Institute, in November 1851, the Rev. W.
C. Bingham exhibited a silver gemmel-ring of singular fashion, date
fourteenth century, found in Dorsetshire, the hoop formed in two portions,
so that a moiety of the letters composing the legend, ✠ AVE MARI, appears
on each, and it only becomes legible when they are brought together side
by side. Each demi-hoop is surmounted by a projecting neck and a small
globular knob, so that the ring appears to have a bifid head. The two
portions of this ring are not intertwined, and as no adjustment now
appears by which they might be kept together in proper juxtaposition, it
is possible that in this instance it was intended that each of the
affianced parties should retain a moiety of the gemmel.
There is an allusion to the ‘joint’ ring in Dryden’s play of ‘Don
Sebastian’:–
A curious artist wrought ’em,
With joynts so close as not to be perceived;
Yet are they both each other’s counterpart.
(Her part had Juan inscribed, and his, had Zayda–
You know those names were theirs:) and in the midst
A heart divided in two halves was placed.
Now if the rivets of those rings, inclos’d,
Fit not each other, I have forged this lye,
But if they join, you must for ever part.
A ring in the Londesborough Collection illustrates this passage. It parts
into three hoops, secured on a pivot; the toothed edge of the central hoop
forming an ornamental centre to the hoop of the ring, and having two
hearts in the middle; a hand is affixed to the side of the upper and lower
hoop; the fingers slightly raised, so that when the hoops are brought
together they link in each other, and close over the hearts, securing all
firmly.
The late Mr. Crofton Croker, in his privately-printed catalogue of Lady
Londesborough’s Collection, gives the following account of the use to
which the ring has been put: ‘There can be little doubt, from the
specimens that have come under observation, that it had been used as a
betrothing ring by an officer of the King’s German Legion with some Irish
lady, and that the notched ring was retained by some confidential female
friend, who was present as a witness at the betrothal ceremony–usually
one of the most solemn and private character–and at which, over the Holy
Bible, placed before the witness, both the man and the woman broke away
the upper and lower rings from the centre one, which was held by the
intermediate person. It would appear that the parties were subsequently
married, when it was usual, as a proof that their pledge had been
fulfilled, to return to the witness or witnesses to the contract the two
rings which the betrothed had respectively worn until married; and thus
the three rings, which had been separated, became reunited, as in the
present instance.’
A gemmel-ring, of which a representation is given (page 316), was dug up
in 1800, at Horselydown, Surrey, found among some Roman and English
remains and skeletons of human bodies, about nine feet below the surface.
The ring is constructed in twin or double hoops, one side being flat, the
other convex. On the lower hand is represented a heart. On the flat side
of the hoops are engraved in Roman capitals, ‘Usé de Vertu.’ This ring is
probably not later than Queen Elizabeth’s reign.
A plain gemmel wedding-ring, with an inscription inside each hoop, which
the Prince Regent, afterwards George IV., had given to Mrs. Fitzherbert,
was exhibited, with the lady’s miniature, at the Loan Collection of
precious objects at the South Kensington Museum in 1872.
This practice of dividing the betrothal rings has its origin from ancient
times, and reminds us of the practice among the Franks of breaking the
_sou d’or_ in two pieces, in sign of a sacred engagement. Thus we read of
Childeric, King of France, when in exile, wishing to know when he might
return to his country, dividing the _sou d’or_, keeping one part, and
giving the other to a trusty friend, who tells him: ‘When I send to you
this half, and you find that it unites with the other, you will understand
that you can return.’ The propitious moment having arrived, Childeric
received the token, and, returning, was re-established in his
dominions.[64]
From other passages in ‘Don Sebastian,’ it appears that one of the two
rings was worn by Sebastian’s father, the other by Almeyda’s mother, as
pledges of love. Sebastian takes off his ring, which had been placed on
his finger by his dying father; Almeyda does the same with hers, which had
been given to her by her mother at parting, and Alvarez unscrews both the
rings and fits one half to the other.
In Sir Henry Ellis’s ‘Original Letters Illustrative of English History’
(series ii. vol. ii. page 290) we have a curious anecdote in connection
with linked rings. Lady Catherine Grey (a sister of Lady Jane Grey)
married the Earl of Hertford, much to the displeasure of Queen Elizabeth,
who sent the bridegroom to the Tower, and subjected the countess to great
hardships. They were both exposed to an ordeal of examination to prove the
validity of the marriage, and amongst other evidence Lady Catherine
exhibited a ring which she declared had been used at the marriage
ceremony.
It was of gold, and consisted of five links, on four of which were
engraved as many verses of the Earl’s composition, expressing the
assurance of his lasting faith and love, and the ring could, apparently,
have been prepared for no other purpose than that of serving as their
marriage-ring.
The judgment of the commissioners appointed to examine into the marriage
was to dissolve it, and it was so pronounced in the Bishop of London’s
palace in 1562. Lady Hertford sank under this cruel conduct of the Queen,
and on her dying bed called to her attendants to bring her the box in
which her wedding-ring was. She first took from it a ring with a pointed
diamond in it, and said to Sir Owen Hopton (at whose house, Cockfield
Hall, Suffolk, she had been staying): ‘Here, Sir Owen, deliver this unto
my lord; it is the ring that I received of him, and gave myself unto him,
and gave him my faith.’
‘What say you, madam,’ answered Sir Owen, ‘was this your wedding-ring?’
‘No, Sir Owen, this is the ring of my assurance unto my lord, and there is
my wedding-ring,’ taking another ring of gold out of the box. This
consisted of five links, having engraved in it the verses of the Earl’s
composition, which she had exhibited to the commissioners of inquiry. (See
chapter on ‘Posy, Inscription, and Motto Rings.’)
‘Deliver this,’ she said, ‘unto my lord, and pray him, as I have been a
faithful and true wife, that he would be a loving and natural father unto
my children, to whom I give the same blessing that God gave unto Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob.’ (See chapter on ‘Remarkable Rings.’)
A gemmel-ring of the fifteenth century, in the Londesborough Collection,
bears an engraved head of Lucretia, the same kind as that mentioned by
Shakspeare (‘Twelfth Night,’ act ii. sc. v.) where Malvolio, breaking open
the letter, purporting to be in the handwriting of his mistress, says:–
By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which
she uses to seal.
Lucretia is seen grasping her dagger. The clasped hands, adopted on the
gemmel-rings, became a frequent emblem on the solid wedding-ring.
The betrothal or wedding ring of Sir Thomas Gresham (1544) engraved in
Burgon’s life of that eminent merchant prince, opens horizontally, thus
forming a double ring of gold, linked together in the form of a gemmel; in
one half is set a white stone, in the other a red; in the interior of each
half is a cavity, in one of which is a small figure of a child in gold,
enamelled; ‘QVOD DEVS CONIVNSIT’ is engraved on one half, and ‘HOMO NON
SEPARET’ on the other.
This interesting relic was formerly in the possession of the Thruston
family, at Weston Hall, Suffolk, and was exhibited at the Society of
Antiquaries (April 1862) by Granville Leveson Gower, Esq.
A gemmel-ring of the sixteenth century, found in the Thames, is in the
Londesborough Collection. Originally gilt, it is of silver: two hands are
clasped; on the opposite side two quatrefoils spring from a heart
engraved: ‘Help God!’ or ‘God help!’
A remarkably fine gemmel-ring (Londesborough) is here engraved. It is set
with sapphire and amethyst, the elaborate and beautiful design enriched by
coloured enamels. The lower figure in the representation of this ring
shows it parted, displaying the inscription on the flat side of each
section, which is also enriched by engraving and _niello_.
The clasped hands (originating from the ancient Romans), adopted on the
gemmel-rings, we are told in Chambers’s ‘Book of Days,’ are still the
fashion, and in constant use in that curious local community of fishermen
inhabiting the Claddugh at Galway on the western coast. They number with
their families between five and six thousand, and are particularly
exclusive in their tastes and habits; rarely intermarrying with others
than their own people. The wedding-ring is an heirloom in the family; it
is regularly transferred from the mother to the daughter who is first
married, and so passes to her descendants. Many of these gemmel-rings,
still worn there, are very old.
Mr. Mackenzie E. C. Walcot, F.S.A., etc., in ‘Notes and Queries,’ writes:
‘A ring of gold, about the time of the thirteenth century, was found at
Burbage, near Marlborough, and, apparently, from the clasped hands on the
lower side, a gemmel or betrothal ring, has a sapphire uncut, held by four
bent cramps, and on the circle the following letters in two lines, divided
by punctuation in the form of ×. The letters, of course, are of the
period:–
ⱯɅ NI WⱯ IⱯ
× × ×
IE AU AL HN
I have alluded to sacred inscriptions on some betrothal rings. The
following engraving refers to one in the Londesborough Collection,
described in page 306.
In the Braybrooke Collection is a splendid gold gemmel ring, with
enamelled and jewelled twin or double hoops, which play one within
another, like the links of a chain. Each hoop has one of its sides convex,
the other flat, and each is set with a stone, one a fine ruby, the other
an aquamarine, or beryl, so that, upon bringing together the flat surfaces
of the hoops the latter immediately unite in one ring, and as they close,
the stones slide into contact, forming a head to the whole. The inside
flat surfaces are inscribed with the words ‘Quod Deus conjunxit, homo non
separet,’ part on one hoop, part on the other, so as to be legible when
these are opened, but entirely concealed when they are reunited in one
ring. This seems to be an exception to the general rule, with respect to
rings of the same denomination, since the hoops cannot be dissevered
according to the usual custom at betrothals. Nares, in his ‘Glossary,’
observes that the name ‘gimmal’ was preserved to rings made triple, or
even more complimentary. This splendid specimen is of Italian workmanship,
dating about the end of the fifteenth or the beginning of the sixteenth
century.
At a meeting of the Archæological Institute in March 1863 the Rev. John
Beck exhibited some curious specimens of linked or ‘puzzle-rings.’ One of
gold consists of seven slender rings linked together, which, when properly
adjusted, combine in a knot. Another, of silver, consists of four slight
rings, set with a blue stone, and ornamented with flowers of
forget-me-not. A third, also of silver, has nine rings, which, when
intertwined, unite so as to present a _fede_ as the head of the ring.
The French term for the hooped rings is _foi_, _alliance_, which last word
in the ‘Dictionnaire de Trevoux’ is defined to be a ring ‘que l’accordé
donne à son accordée, où il y a un fil d’or et un fil d’argent.’

CHAPTER VI.TOKEN RINGS.
Rings as ‘tokens’ date from very early times. We are told that Clovis,
King of the Franks, in the latter part of the fifth century, wishing to
marry Clotilde, niece of Gondebauld, King of Burgundy, deputed Aurelianus,
in whom he had perfect confidence, to ascertain whether the maiden had any
predilection for him. The messenger travelled in very humble guise, and
arrived at the castle in Burgundy where Clotilde resided. The princess,
however, knew beforehand his mission, and was prepared to receive him. She
concealed this knowledge, however, and treated him as an ordinary
mendicant, receiving him hospitably, and, according to the custom of those
times, even washing his feet. While this operation was being performed,
Aurelianus said: ‘Princess, if you will permit me, I will tell you of
strange things.’
‘Speak,’ replied Clotilde.
‘Clovis, King of the Franks, has sent me to announce his wish to marry
you. Is it your desire that I should ask permission from your father?’
‘What proof can you give me of the truth of your mission?’
‘The ring of my Sovereign, which he entrusted me with for this object.’
‘But,’ said Clotilde, ‘I am a Christian, and I cannot marry a pagan. If,
however, it is the will of God that I should become the wife of Clovis, I
am content.’
Thus saying, she received the ring, and gave Aurelianus her own ring in
return, and after some difficulties with Gondebauld were overcome,
Aurelianus married Clotilde in the name of King Clovis, by the gift of
‘one sou and one denier,’ as the price of her liberty, according to the
custom of that period.
If the old historians are to be credited, this is the earliest instance of
a marriage by proxy.
Edward the First, in 1297, presented Margaret, his fourth daughter, with a
golden pyx, in which he deposited a ring, the token of his unfailing love.
He placed it in her hands with a solemn benediction, when she bade him
farewell, preparatory to rejoining her husband at Brussels.
Hardyng, in his ‘Chronicles,’ relates a pretty story of Oswald, King of
Northumberland (seventh century), and Kineburg, his consort. A hermit, of
extraordinary sanctity, desirous of ascertaining whether any person
surpassed himself in purity of life, was, in answer to his meditation,
told by revelation ‘that King Oswald was more holy, though he had wedded a
wife.’ The pious hermit accordingly repaired to the king, with holy zeal,
to be informed concerning his course of life. On which Oswald, in the true
spirit of that love and confidence which reposed on the purity and virtue
of his beloved wife, referred the hermit to her, _bidding him carry to her
his ring_, with his command that she should entertain him (the hermit) as
though he were her own royal spouse. The Queen, who had the greatest
veneration for her husband, failed not to obey his instructions, but,
while she shared with the holy man the regal repast, showed him that it
consisted only of bread and water, no other food being permitted to him;
thus exhibiting an example of that self-denial by which purity of life is
alone attainable. When night came, the hermit was more surprised than ever
when the queen ordered him to be put into a cold-water bath, according to
the custom of the King whom he wished to imitate. Gladly, and yet right
early in the morning, did the venerable man take leave of the queen; and,
having restored to King Oswald his ring, frankly acknowledged that his
whole entire life was not so holy as one of the King’s days and nights. I
must observe, however, that, with this rigid observance of sobriety and
virtue, King Oswald is the first prince of our Saxon rulers who is
recorded to have been served in silver dishes. We can easily understand a
hermit’s repugnance to bathing of any kind.
Some other instances of rings as tokens are related by mediæval
historians. We are told by Matthew Paris that Pope Innocent, desiring to
gain King John over to favour his plans, and knowing that he was covetous,
and a diligent seeker after costly jewels, sent him four gold rings
adorned with precious stones, in token that the rotundity of the rings
signified eternity; ‘therefore your royal discretion may be led by the
form of them to pray for a passage from earthly to heavenly, from temporal
to eternal things. The number of four, which is a square number, denotes
the firmness of mind which is neither depressed in adversity nor elated in
prosperity; which will then be fulfilled, when it is based on the four
principal virtues, namely–justice, fortitude, prudence, and virtue….
Moreover, the greenness of the emerald denotes faith; the clearness of the
sapphire, hope; the redness of the pomegranate denotes charity, and the
purity of the topaz, good works…. In the emerald, therefore, you have
what to believe; in the sapphire, what to hope for; in the pomegranate,
what to love; and in the topaz, what to practise; that you ascend from one
virtue to another, until you see the Lord in Zion.’
Henry the Fourth, Emperor of Germany, was cruelly treated by his son, who
conspired against him, and forced him to abdicate the throne. The degraded
emperor is said to have been reduced by famine to such extremities that he
ate the leather of his boots for hunger. He sent his ring and sword as his
last token of forgiveness to his rebel son, with the simple and touching
message: ‘If thou hadst left me more, I would have sent more to thee.’
Thomas Chester, a writer for the minstrels in the reign of Henry the
Sixth, and who is stated to have translated the ‘Erle of Tolouse,’ a
metrical romance, relates that an Earl of this house, disguised in
pilgrim’s weeds, asked alms of the empress, consort of Diocletian, Emperor
of Germany, to whom his secret is known, and who gives him forty florins
and a ring. He receives the latter present with the greatest satisfaction,
and, although obliged to return home, comforts himself with this
reflection:–
Well is me I have thy grace
Of the to hav thys thyng,
If ever I hav grace of the
That any love between us be
This may be a tokenyng.
The empress, on the false accusation of two knights, is thrown into
prison. The Earl of Toulouse, disguised as a monk, obtains permission to
act as her confessor; the empress, not knowing him in his present
disguise, confesses that she once gave a ring to the ‘Erle.’ On this he
challenges the two knights, and, of course, overcomes them in combat. On
the death of the emperor he marries the empress.
This story reminds us of the lines in ‘Marmion,’ by Sir Walter Scott:–
The fair Queen of France
Sent him a turquoise ring and glove,
And charged him as her knight and love
For her to break a lance:
a fatal gift, as Flodden Field proved.[65]
In the ‘Lays’ of Marie, the Princess Guilliadun, having fallen in love
with Sir Eliduc, sends him as tokens a ring and a rich girdle.
In the ‘Lyfe of Ipomydon,’ the manuscript of which is in the Harleian
Collection at the British Museum, the queen gives her son a ring-token:–
It befell upon a day,
The queen to her son gan say,
In privitie and in counsail,
‘Thou hast a brother withouten fail,
Privily gotten me upon,
Ere I was wedded to any mon.
But hastily he was done fro me,
I ne wot if he alive be,
And he me sent, this ender (last) year,
A rich ring of gold full clear;
An ever he any brother had,
That I should give it him, he bade;
That where he come, among high or low,
By that ring he should him know.
Than take this ring, my son, of me:
In what country that he be,
Who that knoweth this ilke ring,
He is thy brother without lesing.’
Ipomydon accepts the ring, and promises to spare no pains in searching for
its original proprietor, who, after various adventures, is found in the
person of Sir Campanys, with whom he has an encounter, during which the
latter discovers his mother’s ring on the finger of Ipomydon.
In the romance of ‘Sir Isumbras,’ when he and his wife and child are taken
prisoners by the ‘Soudan,’ the lady, before her separation from her
husband and child–
——callyd hir lorde to hir agayne,
A rynge was thaire takynnynge.
The mother of Sir Perceval of Galles gives him a ring-token:–
His moder gaffe hym a ryng,
And bad he solde agayne it bryng;
‘Sonne, this salle be oure takynnynge,
For here I salle the byde.’
The knight sets forth on his travels, and soon changes the ring for
another:–
Thofe he were of no pryde
Forthirmore ganne he glyde
Tille a chambir ther besyde,
Moo sellys to see;
Riche clothes faude he sprede
A lady slepuned on a bedde
He said, ‘forsothe a tokyne to wedde
Salle thou lefe with mee;’
Ther he kyste that swete thynge,
Of hir fynger he tuke a rynge,
His aweune moder takynnynge
He lefte with that fre.
In the very pretty poem of ‘Lay le Fraine,’ by Marie, the lady of a
knight, ‘a proud dame and malicious,’ having twins, consigns the charge of
one of them to a confidential servant, to be taken away and left to the
mercy of anyone who might find it. At the same time, that the child might
be known to have been born of noble parents, she took a rich mantle lined
with fur–
And lapped the little maiden therein,
And took a ring of gold fine,
And on her right arm it knit
With a lace of silk in plit.
The child is placed in a hollow ash-tree, near a nunnery, by the maid, and
on being discovered by the porter is taken to the abbess, by whom she is
reared and becomes an accomplished and beautiful maiden. A rich knight
falls in love with her and persuades her to live with him in his castle,
to which she repairs, and
With her took she no thing
But her pel, and her ring.
The lord, however, is induced to marry her sister, taking Le Fraine with
him to the wedding, who places on her bed in her room the magnificent
‘pel,’ or mantle, by which and the ring she is discovered by her mother.
In the romance of the ‘Seven Wise Masters’ (Cotton MSS.) is a story, ‘The
Two Dreams,’ in which a ring displays a prominent feature.
In the ballad of the ‘Lass of Lochroyan’ (‘Minstrelsy of the Scottish
Border’) Lord Gregory says:–
‘Gin thou be Annie of Lochroyan
(As I trow thou binna she),
Now tell me some of the love-token
That passed between thee and me.
‘O dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory,
As we sat at the wine,
We changed the rings from our fingers,
And I can show thee thine?
‘O yours was gude and gude enough,
But aye the best was mine;
For yours was of the gude red gowd,
But mine o’ the diamond fine.’
In the ballad of ‘Cospatrick’ (the designation of the Earl of Dunbar in
the days of Wallace and Bruce) we have:–
‘He gae to me a gay gowd ring,
And bade me keep it abune a’ thing.’
‘And what did you wi’ the gay gowd ring
I bade you keep abune a’ thing?’
‘I gae them to a ladye gay
I met in greenwood on a day.’
In the ballad of ‘Prince Robert,’
Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye
He has wedded her with a ring,
Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye,
But he darna bring her hame.
The Prince is poisoned, and his lady-love arrives just after the funeral,
and is told:–
‘Ye’se get nane o’ his gowd, ye’se get nane o’ his gear,
Ye’se get nothing frae me.
Ye’se no get an inch o’ his good braid land,
Though your heart suld burst in three.’
‘I want nane o’ his gowd, I want nane o’ his gear,
I want nae land frae thee:
But I’ll hae the rings that’s on his finger,
For them he did promise to me.’
‘Ye’se no get the rings that’s on his finger,
Ye’se no get them frae me;
Ye’se no get the rings that’s on his finger,
An your heart suld burst in three.’
In the ballad of ‘Broomfield Hill’ a witch-woman says to ‘a lady bright:’
Take ye the rings off your fingers,
Put them on his right hand,
To let him know when he doth wake,
His love was at his command.
The Child of Elle receives from the page of his lady-love, the ‘fayre
Emmeline,’ some tokens of her affection to him in her ‘woe-begone’
state:–
And here she sends thee a ring of golde,
The last boone thou mayst have,
And biddes thee weare it for her sake,
When she is layde in grave.
The famous Guy, Earl of Warwick, after marvellous adventures abroad,
returns to his own country, and becomes a hermit at Guy’s Cliff, near
Warwick Castle. Falling sick, he sends a ring-token to the fair Félice. He
came to his rocky dwelling,
Like pilgrim poore, and was not knowne;
And there I lived a hermit’s life,
A mile and more out of the towne,
And dayle came to beg my bread
Of Pheliss, att my castle-gate,
Not known unto my loved wiffe,
Who dayle mourned for her mate:
Till, at the last, I fell sore sicke,
Yea, sicke soe sore that I must dye;
I sent to her a ringe of golde,
By which she knew me presentlye.
In the romance of ‘Floire and Blanceflor,’ the young hero, on his way to
Babylon, arrives at a bridge, the keeper of which has a brother in the
city, to whose hospitality he wishes to recommend Floire, and for that
purpose he gives him his ring. ‘Take this ring to him,’ he says, ‘and tell
him from me to receive you in his best manner.’ The message was attended
with complete success.
King John is said to have made use of a ring to aid his criminal designs
upon the beautiful wife of the brave Eustace de Vesci, one of the
twenty-five barons appointed to enforce the observance of Magna Charta.
The tyrant, hearing that Eustace de Vesci had a very beautiful wife, but
far distant from court, and studying how to accomplish his licentious
designs towards her, sitting at table with her husband and seeing a ring
on his finger, he laid hold of it and told him that he had such another
stone, which he resolved to set in gold in that very form. And having thus
got the ring, he presently sent it to her in her husband’s name; by that
token conjuring her, if ever she expected to see him alive, to come
speedily to him. She, therefore, upon sight of the ring, gave credit to
the messenger and came with all expedition. But it so happened that her
husband, casually riding out, met her on the road, and, marvelling much to
see her there, asked what the matter was; and when he understood how they
were both deluded he resolved to find a wanton, and put her in apparel to
personate his lady.
The King afterwards boasting to the injured husband himself, Eustace had
the pleasure to undeceive him.
When Richard III. brings his rapid wooing to a conclusion he gives the
Lady Anne a ring, saying:–
Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger,
Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
Passionate words, but too noble for a man both faithless and cruel.
Margaret, eldest daughter of Henry VII., married to James IV. of Scotland,
when requiring money, sent to her royal husband, not only letters, but a
token, as is seen in the Treasurer’s accounts: ‘June 30 (1504): Given to
the Queen to give away, when she sent Master Livesay, Englishman, with a
ring in token–18_s._’ So we have later: ‘Luke of the wardrobe carried
letters, with a ring, to Stirling to the Queen’s grace.’
In 1515, while under the tyranny of the Duke of Albany at Edinburgh,
Margaret endeavoured to escape to Blackater, a fortress within a few miles
of Berwick. She sent a faithful clerk, Robin Carr, to Lord Dacre, who had
proposed her flight, and a ring was to be Carr’s credential to King Henry
the Eighth, whom he was to see afterwards. The King, however, did not
recognise the token, though it was one that his sister had worn in her
girlish days.
In ‘Cymbeline’ (act i. sc. ii.) Imogen gives Posthumus a ring when they
part, and he gives her a bracelet in exchange:–
‘——Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother’s; take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.’
_Posthumus._–‘How! how! another?
You gentle gods give me but this I have,
And sear up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death! Remain thou here,
(_Putting on the ring_)
While sense can keep it on.’
Yet he afterwards gives it up to Iachimo–upon a false representation,
however–to test his wife’s honour:–
——Here, take this too;
It is a basilisk unto my eye,
Kills me to look on’t.
A diamond ring was sent by Henry the Eighth in 1542 to Sir Arthur
Plantagenet (Lord Lisle, natural son of Edward the Fourth) in token of
forgiveness, and accompanying an order for his release from the Tower, but
the unfortunate prisoner, in his excess of joy, died.
In Shakspeare’s ‘Henry the Eighth’ (Act v. sc. i.) a ring is delivered by
the King to Cranmer, in token of royal confidence and esteem:–
Be of good cheer,
They shall no more prevail than we give way to.
Keep comfort to you; and this morning see
You do appear before them; if they shall chance,
In charging you with matters, to commit you,
The best persuasions to the contrary
Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
The occasion shall instruct you: if entreaties
Will render you no remedy, _this ring_
_Deliver them_, and your appeal to us
There make before them.
The sequel of this incident is related in Foxe’s ‘Acts and Monuments of
the Christian Martyrs,’ printed in 1563:–‘Anon the Archbishop was called
into the council-chamber, to whom was alleged as before is rehearsed. The
Archbishop answered in like sort as the King had advised him; and in the
end, when he perceived that no manner of persuasion or entreaty could
serve, he delivered them the King’s ring, revoking his cause into the
King’s hands. The whole council being thereat somewhat amazed, the Earl of
Bedford, with a loud voice, confirming his words with a solemn oath, said:
“When you first began the matter, my Lords, I told you what would become
of it. Do you think the King would suffer this man’s finger to ache? Much
more, I warrant you, will he defend his life against brabling varlets. You
do but cumber yourselves to hear tales and fables against him.” And,
incontinently, upon the receipt of the _King’s token_, they all rose, and
carried to the King his ring, surrendering that matter, as the order and
use was, into his own hands.’
By the same capricious monarch a turquoise ring was sent to Cardinal
Wolsey, in his last troubles at Esher, by Sir John Russel, as a ‘token’
from His Majesty, with the assurance that ‘he loved him as well as ever he
did, and was sorry for his trouble.’ On hearing subsequently from Dr.
Buttes of the serious illness of his discarded favourite, he sent a
valuable ring to him, and Mistress Anne Boleyn, then at the King’s side,
at her royal lover’s request, took a gold tablet from her girdle, and gave
it with a speech expressing sympathy and commendation–false gifts and
hollow words!
In after years, when a deputation was sent by the council of King Edward
the Sixth to reduce the recusant Princess Mary to conformity with the
Protestant religion, she, on her knees, delivered _a ring as a token_ to
the King, saying ‘she would die his true subject and sister, and obey him
in all things, except in matters of religion.’
When, as Queen, Mary lay on her deathbed, King Philip, her husband, who
did not revisit England after his return to Spain, sent a message and a
_ring-token_ to his consort, a ruby set in gold, which she bequeathed to
him among other jewels.
One of the most interesting episodes of ring-tokens is that which Queen
Elizabeth is said to have given to the Earl of Essex ‘in token of esteem,’
with the intimation that if ever he forfeited her favour, and it should be
sent back to her, the sight of it would ensure his forgiveness. The chief
authorities for the story appear to be the ‘Relation of M. Aubrey de
Maurier,’ printed in 1688, and the account given at the same period by
Lady Elizabeth Spelman. The particulars of this occurrence are related in
the memoirs of Robert Carey. When Essex lay under sentence of death, he
determined to try the virtue of the Queen’s ring by sending it to her and
claiming the benefit of her promise. Knowing, however, that he was
surrounded by the creatures of those who were bent on taking his life, he
was fearful of trusting to any of his attendants. At length, looking out
of his window, he saw, early one morning, a boy whose countenance pleased
him, and he induced him by a bribe to carry the ring, which he threw down
from above, to the Lady Scroop, his cousin, who had taken so friendly an
interest in his fate. The boy, by mistake, took the ring to the Countess
of Nottingham, the cruel sister of the fair and gentle Scroop, and, as
both these ladies belonged to the royal bed-chamber, the mistake might
easily occur. The Countess carried the ring to the Lord Admiral, who was a
deadly foe of Essex, and told him the message, but he bade her suppress
both. The Queen, unconscious of the incident, waited in the painful
suspense of an angry lover for the expected token to arrive, but, not
receiving it, she concluded that he was too proud to make the last appeal
to her tenderness, and, after having once revoked the warrant, she ordered
the execution to take place.
The romantic story of the Queen visiting the Countess of Nottingham, who
had kept back the ring; of her shaking her on her death-bed, and crying
out bitterly ‘that God might forgive, but she could not,’ is somewhat
credited as documents come to light. In Birch’s ‘Memoirs of the Peers of
England during the Reign of James the First,’ this story is given, as
having been repeatedly told by Lady Elizabeth Spelman, great-granddaughter
of Sir Robert Carey. The Queen is said to have been so hurt by this
revelation of Lady Nottingham that she never went to bed, nor took any
sustenance from that period. ‘In confirmation of the time of the
Countess’s death,’ says Birch, ‘it appears from the parish register of
Chelsea that she died at Arundel House, London, February 25, and was
buried the 28th, 1603. Her funeral was kept at Chelsea, March 21st
following, and Queen Elizabeth died three days afterwards.’
The celebrated ring on which the life of the Earl of Essex is thus said to
have depended has been claimed by various persons. In ‘Old England’ (vol.
ii. p. 74) a story is told that when, in 1564, Mary, Queen of Scots,
married Darnley, she sent to her fair cousin of England a diamond-ring in
the form of a heart, in token of the event and her own affection. The ring
was accompanied by some Latin verses by Buchanan, thus translated:–
This gem behold, the emblem of my heart,
From which my cousin’s image ne’er shall part;
Clear in its lustre, spotless does it shine,
’Tis clear and spotless as this heart of mine.
What though the stone a greater hardness wears,
Superior firmness still the figure bears.
‘According’ (observes the editor of ‘Old England’) ‘to information which
has been communicated to us, with an implicit faith on the part of our
informants, that was the ring presented by Elizabeth to Essex, as being
the most precious it was in her power to give him.’
Another account says that Mr. Thomas Penning, of the Exchequer, had, in
1781, a purse and ring by bequest from Mr. Sotheby, whose sister he
married, and who was related to the late Mrs. Cooke, by long succession
and inheritance from Sir Anthony Cooke, of Giddy Hall, Essex, preceptor of
Edward the Sixth, and to whose family, according to tradition, these
precious objects were given by Queen Elizabeth. The ring was of gold, with
the Queen’s bust in bas-relief on a garnet, dressed as in her sixpenny and
threepenny pieces of 1574, with the same features round it in the garter
with the motto, and fastened with a buckle composed of two diamonds, and
the strap turned by another. Over the bust was the crown, composed of
twelve diamonds, and on each side the collet three diamonds. On the inner
surface, immediately under the bust, was the union rose.
Perhaps the strongest claim to the possession of the real ring of Essex is
that which was exhibited at the Society of Antiquaries, March 1858, by the
Rev. Lord John Thynne. It is of gold, slightly made, and ornamented on the
inside with blue enamel. On the face is set a cameo cut in sardonyx,
representing Queen Elizabeth in a high ruff. The workmanship is good, and
shows considerable skill in the adaptation of the layers of the stone to
the details of the dress. It seems to have been originally made for a very
small finger, and to have been subsequently enlarged. The ring is said to
have been the property of Lady Frances Devereux, daughter of the Earl of
Essex, and afterwards Duchess of Somerset, and to have passed from mother
to daughter until it came to Louisa, daughter of John, Earl of Granville,
who married Thomas Thynne, second Viscount Weymouth, great-grandfather of
the present owner. It has been stated by Captain Devereux that no mention
of the ring in question is made in the elaborate will of the Duchess of
Somerset. She may, however, have given it to her daughter in her lifetime.
The ring appears to have been made for a female finger, and as it is not
very likely that the Queen would have worn her own portrait in a ring, it
is more probable that this ring was intended for one of the ladies of her
court, and it may have been enlarged for some subsequent owner. It is
undoubtedly a remarkable work of art of the period of Elizabeth.
It may be noticed that the Hon. Captain Devereux, in his ‘Lives and
Letters of the Devereux, Earls of Essex,’ seems to believe in the story of
the ring, but the evidence he adduces is not sufficient to justify his
faith.
Another ring, which is in the possession of C. W. Warner, Esq. (and is,
together with that noticed, engraved in the ‘Lives and Letters of the
Devereux, Earls of Essex’), sets forth a rival claim to be the identical
ring given to Essex, of which, however, it shows no internal evidence,
being a slight ring, without any device, and has an enamelled hoop, set
with a pear-shaped diamond.
In ‘Manningham’s Diary,’ 1602-1603 (Camden Society), is the following
entry: ‘Dr. Parry told me the Countess Kildare assured him that the
Queene caused the ring wherewith shee was wedded to the crowne to be cutt
from hir finger, some six weekes before her death, but wore a ring which
the Earl of Essex gave her unto the day of hir death.’[66]
The interchange of rings as royal tokens between Queen Elizabeth and Mary,
Queen of Scots, was frequent; whether genuine in the feelings that
prompted their transmission (at least, as regards the former) may be
questioned. On the baptism of the son of the Scottish Queen (afterwards
James the Sixth) we are informed that the Duke of Bedford, besides a gold
font, the present of Queen Elizabeth, sent ‘ane ring with ane stane to be
delivered to the said woman who should occupy the place of the Queen’s
Grace of England at the said baptism.’ Mary is mentioned by the English
ambassador to the Scottish court as wearing, on the celebration of Twelfth
Day in 1562, no jewels or gold, but a ring sent to her by Elizabeth. It
may have been that which, a prisoner at Lochleven Castle, she wished to
obtain from the royal jewels which had been kept back from her by the Earl
of Moray.[67] It had been sent to her as a token of friendship, and the
promise that if it were returned to the donor in any period of misfortune
she would do her best to assist her.
Miss Strickland informs us that Mary, in a letter to Elizabeth, though
unable, as she mentions, to send back the ring, reminds Elizabeth of her
promise. This interesting letter is still preserved at Hatfield House. ‘It
will please you to remember,’ she writes, ‘you have told me several times
that on receiving the ring you gave me you would assist me in my time of
trouble. You know that Moray has seized all that I have, and those who had
the keeping of some of these things have been ordered not to deliver any
of them to me. Robert Melville, at any rate, to whom I have secretly sent
for this ring, as my most precious jewel, says “he dare not let me have
it.” Therefore I implore you, on receiving this letter, to have compassion
on your good sister and cousin, and believe that you have not a more
affectionate relative in the world,’ etc. etc., ‘dated from my prison this
1st of May’ (1568).
On the escape of Mary from her ‘prison,’ Sir Robert Melville, anticipating
a counter-revolution from the general feeling in favour of the Queen, was
one of the first who came to her at Hamilton Castle to renew his homage,
bringing with him as a peace-offering the precious ring so often demanded
in vain.
‘On leaving Scotland,’ says Miss Strickland, ‘after her fatal resolution
of throwing herself on the protection of Queen Elizabeth, Mary sent the
ring as an _avant-courier_, with a letter. This romantic toy, which she
regarded in the same light as one of the fairy talismans in eastern love,
was actually the lure which tempted her in this desperate crisis of her
fortunes to enter England, under the fond idea that its donor could not
refuse to keep her promise. She concludes an affecting letter to Queen
Elizabeth (dated from Dundrennan) thus: “To remind you of the reasons I
have to depend on England, _I send back to the Queen the token of her
promised friendship and assistance_.”’
This memorable ring is described by Aubrey, to have been a delicate piece
of mechanism, consisting of several joints, which, when united, formed the
quaint device of two right hands supporting a heart between them. This
heart was composed of two separate diamonds, held together by a central
spring, which, when opened, would allow either of the hearts to be
detached.
‘Queen Elizabeth,’ says Aubrey, ‘kept one moietie, and sent the other as a
“token” of her constant friendship to Mary, Queen of Scots, but she cut
off her head for all that.’
The circumstance of the ring is further verified beyond dispute by Mary
herself, in a subsequent letter to Elizabeth, in which she bitterly
reproaches her with her perfidious conduct. ‘After I escaped from
Lochleven,’ she says, ‘and was nearly taken in battle by my rebellious
subjects, I sent you by a trusty messenger the diamond you had given me as
a token of affection and demanded your assistance. I believed that the
jewel I received as a pledge of your friendship would remind you that when
you gave it me I was not only flattered with great promise of assistance
from you, but you bound yourself on your royal word to advance over the
border to my succour, and to come in person to meet me, and that if I
made the journey into your realm that I might confide in your honour.’
Elizabeth, as is well known, took no notice either of the pledge or
allusions to her former professions.
The illustration on the preceding page represents the ring mentioned (p.
339) as the property of the Warner family. Sir Thomas Warner, to whom it
was presented by James the First, placed it on his shield of arms, with
the motto, ‘I hold from the King.’
During the Duke of Norfolk’s imprisonment in the Tower he sent two diamond
rings, as _love-tokens_ to Mary, Queen of Scots, while she was at
Coventry.
In the metrical chronicle of the ‘Life of Sir Nicholas Throgmorton’ we
find that when Elizabeth heard rumours of the death of her sister, Queen
Mary, to be really sure, she sent Sir Nicholas Throgmorton to the palace
to request one of the ladies of the bed-chamber, who was in her
confidence, ‘if the queen were really dead, to send her as a _token_ the
black enamelled ring which Her Majesty wore night and day’:–
She said (since nought exceedeth woman’s fears,
Who still do dread some baits of subtlety):
‘Sir Nicholas, know a ring my sister wears
Enamell’d black–a pledge of loyalty–
The which the King of Spain in spousals gave.
If aught fall out amiss, ’tis that I crave.
‘But hark! ope not your lips to anyone
In hope us to obtain of courtesy,
Unless you know my sister first be gone,
For grudging minds will still coyne (coin) treachery.
So shall thyself be safe, and us be sure.
Who takes no hurt shall need no care of cure.’
Elizabeth’s meaning seems to have been that the ring should not be sought
for until Mary’s death.
A ring ‘token’ was also the announcement of Queen Elizabeth’s death. Lady
Scroope, it seems, gave the first intelligence of the event by dropping
from the window of the palace a sapphire ring to her brother, Sir Robert
Carey, who was lurking beneath the chamber of death at Richmond. He
departed with this ring at his utmost speed to announce the tidings to the
Scottish monarch.
The sapphire in this ring is in the possession of the Countess of Cork,
and was exhibited at the Loan Exhibition of Jewellery at South Kensington
in 1872. A statement in the catalogue records the incident related. The
ring is mentioned in Robertson’s ‘History of Scotland’ and Banks’ ‘Peerage
Books.’ It was afterwards given to John, Earl of Orrery, by the Duchess of
Buckingham, natural daughter of James the Second.
I may here remark that Camden relates a romantic incident, that while
Queen Elizabeth was celebrating the anniversary of her coronation, Henry
of Anjou, one of her royal suitors, in a fit of gallantry, took from her
finger a ring in token of betrothal, and put it on his own in presence of
the Court; but as this story is entirely refuted by history I forbear the
details.
An incident in connection with ring-tokens is related in the life of that
distinguished knight and courtier, Sir John Perrot, which has additional
interest from having formed the subject of a poem by the late Mrs. Maclean
(‘L. E. L.’). The ballad, which appeared some years ago in one of the
‘annuals,’ is so charming and characteristic that I have ventured to
reproduce it:–
The evening tide is on the turn; so calm the waters flow,
There seems to be one heav’n above, another heav’n below;
The blue skies broken by white clouds, the river by white foam,
The stars reflect themselves, and seem to have another home.
A shade upon the elements; ’tis of a gallant bark,
Her stately sides fling on the waves an outline dim and dark;
The difference this by things of earth, and things of heav’n made,
The things of heav’n are trac’d in light, and those of earth in shade.
Wrapt in his cloak a noble knight stept to and fro that deck,
Revolving all those gentler thoughts the busier day-hours check;
A thousand sad, sweet influences in truth and beauty lie
Within the quiet atmosphere of a lone starry sky.
A shower of glittering sparkles fell from off the dashing oar,
As a little boat shot rapidly from an old oak on shore;
His eye and pulse grew quick, the knight’s, his heart kept no true time
In his unsteady breathing, with the light oar’s measur’d chime.
‘Thou hast loiter’d–so, in sooth, should I–thy errand be thy plea,
And now, what of my lady bright, what guerdon sent she me?
Or sat she lonely in her bower, or lovely in the hall?
How look’d she when she took my gift? sir page, now tell me all.’
‘I found her with a pallid cheek, and with a drooping head;
I left her, and the summer rose wears not a gladder red.
And she murmur’d something like the tones a lute has in its chords;
So very sweet the whisper was, I have forgot the words.’
‘A health to thee, my lady love, a health in Spanish wine,
To-night I’ll pledge no other health, I’ll name no name but thine.’
The young page hid his laugh, then dropp’d in rev’rence on his knee:
‘In sooth, good master, that I think to-night may scarcely be.
‘While kneeling at your lady’s feet another dame passed by,
The lion in her haughty step, the eagle in her eye:
“And doth the good knight barter gems? God’s truth, we’ll do the same,”
A pleasant meaning lit the smile that to her proud eyes came.
‘She took the fairest of the gems upon her glittering hand,
With her own fingers fasten’d it upon a silken band,
And held it to the lamp, then said: “Like this stone’s spotless flame
So tell your master that I hold his high and knightly fame.”’
Low on his bended knee the knight received that precious stone,
And bold and proud the spirit now that in his dark eyes shone:
‘Up from your sleep, my mariners, for ere the break of day,
And even now the stars are pale, I must be miles away.’
The spray fell from the oars in showers, as in some fairy hall
They say in melting diamonds the charmèd fountains fall;
And though, as set the weary stars, the darker grew the night,
Yet far behind the vessel left a track of silver light.
They saw again that self-same shore which they that morn had pass’d,
On which they look’d as those who know such look may be the last–
Then out he spoke, the helmsman old: ‘I marvel we should go,
Just like a lady’s messenger, on the same path to and fro.’
‘And ’tis to see a lady’s face this homeward task we ply.
I wot the proudest of us all were proud to catch her eye.
A royal gift our queen hath sent, and it were sore disgrace
If that I first put on her gem, and not before her face!’
On the terrace by the river-side there stood a gallant band,
The very flower of knight and dame were there of English land;
The morning wind toss’d ostrich plume, and stirr’d the silken train,
The morning light from gold and gem was mirror’d back again.
There walk’d the Queen Elizabeth; you knew her from the rest
More by the royal step and eye than by the royal vest;
There flashed, though now the step was staid, the falcon eye was still,
The fiery blood of Lancaster, the haughty Tudor’s will.
A lady by the balustrade, a little way apart,
Lean’d languidly, indulging in the solitude of heart
Which is Love’s empire tenanted by visions of his own–
Such solitude is soon disturb’d, such visions soon are flown.
Love’s pleasant time is with her now, for she hath hope and faith,
Which think not what the lover doth, but what the lover saith.
Upon her hand there is a ring, within her heart a vow;
No voice is whispering at her side–what doth she blush for now?
A noble galley valiantly comes on before the wind;
Her sails are dyed by the red sky she’s leaving fast behind.
None other mark’d the ship that swept so eagerly along;
The lady knew the flag, and when hath lover’s eye been wrong?
The lonely lady watch’d; meantime went on the converse gay.
It was as if the spirits caught the freshness of the day.
‘Good omen such a morn as this,’ her Grace of England said,
‘What progress down our noble Thames hath Sir John Perrot made?’
Then spoke Sir Walter Raleigh, with a soft and silvery smile,
And an earnest gaze that seem’d to catch the Queen’s least look the
while,
‘Methinks that ev’ry wind in heav’n will crowd his sails to fill,
For goeth he not forth to do his gracious Sovereign’s will?’
With that the bark came bounding up, then staid her in her flight;
And right beneath the terrace she moor’d her in their sight.
‘Now, by my troth,’ exclaimed the Queen, ‘it is our captain’s bark.
What brings the loiterer back again?’–her eye and brow grew dark.
‘Fair Queen,’ replied a voice below, ‘I pay a vow of mine,
And never yet was voyage delayed by worship at a shrine.’
He took the jewel in his hand, and bent him on his knee,
Then flung the scarf around his neck, where all the gem might see.
His white plumes swept the very deck, yet once he glanc’d above;
The courtesy was for the Queen, the glance was for his love.
‘Now fare-thee-well,’ then said the Queen, ‘for thou art a true knight.’
But even as she spoke the ship was flitting from the sight.
Woe to the Spaniards and their gold amid the Indian seas,
When rolled the thunder of that deck upon the southern breeze,
For bravely Sir John Perrot bore our flag across the main,
And England’s bells for victory rang when he came home again.
In the will of Thomas Sackville, Duke of Dorset (Lord High Treasurer in
the times of Elizabeth and James I.), given in Collins’s ‘Baronage,’ is a
mention of a token ring. It is described as ‘of gold and enamelled black,
and set round with diamonds to the number of twenty; whereof, five, being
placed in the upper part of the said ring, do represent the fashion of a
cross.’ It is further mentioned as to be a heirloom. ‘And to the intent
that they may knowe howe just and great cause bothe they and I have to
hould the sayed Rynge, with twentie Diamonds, in so highe esteeme, yt is
most requisite that I doe here set downe the whole course and
circumstance, howe and from whome the same rynge did come to my
possession, which was thus: In the Begynning of the monethe of June, one
thousand sixe hundred and seaven, this rynge thus set with twenty
Diamonds, as is aforesayed, was sent unto me from my most gracious
soveraigne, King James, by that honourable personage, the Lord Haye, one
of the gentlemen of His Highnes Bedchamber, the Courte then beying at
Whitehall in London, and I at that tyme remayning at Horsley House in
Surrey, twentie myles from London, where I laye in suche extremetye of
sickness as yt was a common and a constant reporte all over London that I
was dead, and the same confidentlie affirmed even unto the Kinge’s Highnes
himselfe; upon which occasion it pleased his most excellent majestie, in
token of his gracious goodness and great favour towards me, to send the
saied Lord Hay with the saied Ringe, and this Royal message unto me,
namelie, that his Highness wished a speedie and a perfect recoverye of my
healthe, with all happie and good successe unto me, and that I might live
as long as the diamondes of that Rynge (which therewithall he delivered
unto me) did endure, and in token thereof, required me to weare yt and
keepe yt for his sake.’
Among other token rings, under affecting circumstances, I may also mention
those given on the eve of his execution (1651) by James Stanley, Earl of
Derby, Governor of the Isle of Man–‘a man,’ observes Lodge, ‘of great
honour and clear courage.’ A minute narrative of the circumstances of his
final hours was penned with touching simplicity by a Mr. Bagaley, one of
his gentlemen, who was allowed to attend him to the last, and the
manuscript has been carefully preserved in the family. A transcript of the
most part of it may be found in Collins’s ‘Peerage.’ He wrote letters to
his wife, daughter, and sons, and sent a servant to purchase all the rings
he could get. These were wrapped in separate papers, and Bagaley, under
the Earl’s instructions, directed them to his children and servants, and
the unfortunate nobleman said: ‘As to them I can say nothing; silence and
your own looks will best tell your message.’
Rings, as ‘tokens,’ or pledges, for the repayment of loans were made for
Queen Henrietta Maria, the consort of Charles the First, while she was in
Holland, endeavouring to raise money and troops for her unfortunate
husband. To such as gave her pecuniary assistance she was accustomed to
show her gratitude by the gift of a ring, or some other trinket from her
own cabinet; but when the increasing exigencies of the King’s affairs
compelled her to sell or pawn in Holland the whole of her plate and most
of her jewels for his use, she adopted an ingenious device by which she
was enabled, at a small expense, to continue her gifts to her friends, and
in a form that rendered them more precious to the recipient parties,
because they had immediate reference to herself. She had a great many
rings, lockets, and bracelet clasps made with her cipher, the letters ‘H.
M. R.,’ Henrietta Maria Regina, in very delicate filagree of gold,
entwined in a monogram, laid on a ground of crimson velvet, covered with
thick crystal, cut like a table-diamond and set in gold. These were called
the King’s pledges, or ‘tokens,’ and presented by her to any person who
had lent her money, or had rendered her any particular service, with an
understanding that if presented to Her Majesty at any future time, when
fortune smiled on the royal cause, it would command, either repayment of
the money advanced, or some favour from the Queen as an equivalent.
‘Many of these interesting testimonials are still in existence’ (observes
Miss Strickland), ‘and, in families where the tradition has been
forgotten, have been regarded as amulets which were to secure good
fortune to the wearer.’ One of these royal pledges, Miss Strickland
informs us, has been preserved as an heirloom in her family, and there is
a ring with the same device, in possession of Philip Darrell, Esq., of
Cales Hill, Kent, which was presented to his immediate ancestor by that
queen.
It was in the reign of Charles the First that a fearful incident occurred
in Scotland (1630) at the Castle of Frendraught–a fire breaking out at
midnight in a sudden manner, ‘yea, in ane clap,’ says Spalding, involving
the whole of the inmates in destruction, excepting three persons. Viscount
Melgum, son of the Marquis of Huntly, only twenty-four years of age, who
was a guest of the Laird of Frendraught at the time, perished, leaving a
widow and child. A popular ballad of the day speaks of his being called on
to leap from the window:–
‘How can I leap, how can I win,
How can I leap to thee?
My head’s fast in the wire-window,
My feet burning from me.’
He’s ta’en the rings from aff his hands,
And thrown them o’er the wall;
Saying, ‘Give them to my lady fair,
Where she sits in the hall.’
A pledge or token ring of remarkable interest was exhibited by Mr. J. W.
Singer at the Loan Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery, South
Kensington Museum, in 1872. This ring (of silver, set with a yellow topaz,
diamonds, and a small ruby of English manufacture) has been preserved in
the Penderell family, as that given by King Charles II. as a token of
gratitude for the fidelity which saved him in the oak-tree at Boscobel,
after the battle of Worcester. At the King’s Restoration the five
brothers Penderell attended at Whitehall, ‘when his Majesty was pleased
to own their faithful service, and graciously dismissed them with a
princely reward’ (‘Boscobel Tracts’).
This ring now belongs to Mrs. Whiteby, of Beckington, Somerset, fifth in
descent from Penderell. A yearly pension of one hundred pounds for _ever_
was conferred upon the family, a portion of which (forty pounds) is now
only received by a male relative.
A ring-token, of sinister omen, is mentioned of the same monarch. This ill
bestowal of a ring from royalty is exemplified in the case of that hideous
judicial monster Jeffreys. With thorough want of judgment, Charles II., in
a fit of imprudency, habitual to him, gave the infamous judge a ring from
his own finger. This was popularly termed _Jeffreys’s blood-stone_, as he
obtained it soon after the execution of Sir Thomas Armstrong. Roger North
says: ‘The King was persuaded to present him with a ring, publicly taken
from his own finger, in token of his Majesty’s acceptance of his most
eminent services; and this, by way of precursor, being blazoned in the
Gazette, his Lordship went down into the country as from the King,
_legatus à latere_.’ And a mission of blood and brutality it was!
A ring-token or present is mentioned in the ‘True Remembrances’ of Richard
Boyle, the great Earl of Cork, who says: ‘When first I arrived in Ireland,
June 23, 1588, all my wealth then was twenty-seven pounds three shillings
in money, and two _tokens_ which my mother had given me, viz. a diamond
ring, which I have ever since and still do wear, and a bracelet of gold
worth about ten pounds.’
Many other instances of ring-tokens might be mentioned, but the limits to
which this work is confined prevent me from enlarging on the subject. I
will merely allude as a memorable instance in modern times, to the
ring-token presented to George III. on his birthday in 1764 by his Queen.
It was a ring splendidly ornamented with brilliants, and contained an
enamel in which were the portraits, exquisitely represented, of their
children.
I will conclude these notices of token rings with a very stirring ballad
by Mr. Planché, entitled ‘The Three Rings’:–
‘Good morrow, lovely lady! Is thy noble lord with thee?’
‘Sir knight, since to the wars he went, full moons have wasted three;
Three weary moons have wax’d and waned since he sail’d o’er the main,
And little wist I when these eyes shall see my lord again.’
‘Forget him, lovely lady, as by him thou art forgot.’
‘Thou dost him wrong, sir knight; by him forgotten I am not:
I hold within my arms a pledge for his true love to me,
This new-born babe–his child and mine–which he hath yet to see.’
‘Oh, let me be thy servant, lady–I will love thee dear–’
‘Sir knight, I am a wedded wife, such words I may not hear–’
‘None else can hear them, lady. What witnesses are nigh?’
‘This heart, which is Hernando’s, and God who sits on high.’
‘Sweet lady, yet a boon, upon my bended knee, I crave–’
‘Sir knight, if one which I can grant with honour, ask and have.’
‘Oh, give me these three golden rings that on thy fingers shine.’
‘Sir knight, with life alone I part with these three rings of mine!’
‘Oh, lend them but a day–an hour–to wear them for thy sake–’
‘It may not be, such act my lord would proof of falsehood make.’
‘Enough, enough, unkind one! Then I may nought obtain?’
‘When thou would’st aught that I may grant, sir knight, demand again.’
The knight hath mounted his steed and away–his love is changed to hate.
At the nearest town he lighted down before a goldsmith’s gate:
He hath bought three rings of plain red gold, like those by Clara worn,
‘O bitterly thy slight of me, proud lady, shalt thou mourn!’
He hath mounted again his coal-black barb before the break of day.
And who is he, the warrior bold, who meets him on the way?
It is the brave Hernando, who, the Soldan’s city won,
Now pants to hold within his arms his wife and new-born son.
‘What news? what news? thou noble knight; good friend, thy tidings tell–
How fare my wife and infant child–say, are they safe and well?’
‘Thy wife is well, and eke the boy’–‘Thy speech is brief and cold;
Clara is true?’–‘For answer, look on these three rings of gold.’
One instant, and his vizor’s clos’d, his lance is in the rest–
‘Defend thee now, thou felon knight! Foul shame be on thy crest!’
One charge–one shock. The traitor’s corse is from the saddle cast,
Through plate, and chain, and gambeson, Hernando’s spear hath pass’d.
He buries in his courser’s flank his bloody spears again;
Away! away! he scales the hill–he thunders o’er the plain!
‘Up, Clara, up!’ her mother cries; ‘Hernando comes! I see
The well-known blazon on his shield. ’Tis he, my child, ’tis he!’
‘Oh, mother! rides he fast as one who to his true-love hies?
Canst see his face, dear mother? Looks joy from out his eyes?’
‘His helmet, child, is open, and he rideth fast enow,
But his cheek is pale, and bent, as if in anger, seems his brow.’
The tramp of armed feet is heard upon the turret stair;
Forth springs to meet her lord’s embrace that lady fond and fair.
By the silken locks, in which his hands have oft been fondly twined,
He hath seized and dragged her from her bower with jealous fury blind.
He hath bound her at his horse’s heels–nor shriek nor prayer he heeds;
O’er rugged rock, through bush and briar, the goaded courser speeds;
Her flesh is rent by every thorn, her blood stains every stone,–
Now, Jesu sweet, have mercy! for her cruel lord hath none!
And lo! the sharp edge of a flint hath shorn the cord in twain;
Down leaps the vengeful lord to make his victim fast again.
‘What have I done.? Before I die, my crime, Hernando, say?’
‘The golden rings I charged thee keep, thou false one, where are they?’
‘Oh where, but on the hand which, with my heart, I gave to thee!
Draw off my glove–I cannot–for my strength is failing me!’
‘Oh curses on my frantic rage!–my wrong’d–my murder’d wife–
Come forth, my sword! Then, Clara, shall life atone for life!’
She staggered up, love gave her strength, the sword afar she hurl’d,
‘Thou know’st my innocence! Oh, live to prove it to the world!
Weep not for Clara–loved by thee, contented she expires!
Live for our child–the boy whose fame shall emulate his sire’s!’
‘Our child!–the child my fury hath made motherless to-day!
And when he for his mother asks–O God–what shall I say?’
‘Say that her name was Clara–that _thy_ love was her pride–
That, blessing him and thee, she smiled, as in thy arms she died!’
Mr. Planché has borrowed the subject of his admirable poem from a legend
still popular in Normandy. It is that of Marianson, the wife of a French
noble. An evil spirit instigates a false knight to borrow the three golden
token-rings of the lady during the absence of her lord. He takes them to a
jeweller, who is ordered to prepare three others exactly similar, and then
returns the lady her own rings. On his way he meets the husband, whose
wife he declares has been unfaithful, and in proof of his assertion he
shows the three surreptitious rings. The result of this is the fearful
death of Marianson, being tied to the tail of a wild horse, and torn to
pieces, and the after-discovery of the three rings in her drawer by the
jealous husband.
A somewhat similar legend is related of the Lady of Toggenburg, who lived
in a castle near the Lake of Zurich. Her ‘token’ ring was stolen by a
crow, who dropped it in the park, where it was found by a young squire,
who placed it on his finger. The Count of Toggenburg, passing at the time,
saw the ring, and, inflamed by jealous fury, without asking any questions,
rushed into the castle, and hurled his wife from the battlements into the
lake. The young squire was torn to pieces by wild horses.

CHAPTER VII.MEMORIAL AND MORTUARY RINGS.
Bequests of rings are frequently mentioned in wills of the middle and
later ages. In the reign of Henry the Third, two rings were bequeathed to
that monarch by a bishop of Chichester, one adorned with an emerald, the
other with a ruby. These jewels were taken out and employed to decorate an
image of the Virgin at Westminster, and were placed on her forehead.
In the will of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Essex (1319), among
various bequests is ‘un anel d’or avec un ruby qe ma femme me devisa, qe
ad tout pleni de coups, et est en un petit forcer en une graunte husche au
bout de la basse gardrobe’ (the gold ring with a ruby which his wife
devised to him, and which is all covered with bruises, and is in a little
casket in a great box at the end of the lower wardrobe). This is probably
the same ring mentioned in an inventory of effects as an ‘anel d’or ove j
Rubie.’
Thomas de Hoton, rector of Kyrkebymisperton (1351), bequeathed to his
chaplain, amongst other objects, ‘j annulum vertuosum.’ Another is to
‘Domine Thome de Bouthum.’ These were supposed to possess some healing, or
talismanic properties, such rings being termed, in mediæval Latin,
_vertuosus_.
In the ‘Bury Wills and Inventories’ (Camden Society) are various bequests
of rings. Some of these entries are very curious. John Baret (1463) leaves
to ‘Elizabet Drury, my wyf, a ryng of gold with an ymage of the Trinitie.’
To Dame Margarete Spurdaunce ‘a doubyl ryng departyed of gold, with a ruby
and a turkeys, with a scripture wretȳ with jnne, for a rememberaunce of
oold love vertuously set at all times to the pleseer of God.’ To his
nephew, Thomas Drury, ‘my best ryng of gold next mȳ signet, therein is
wretyn _Grace me governe_, with letteris of I and B, accordyng to my name
innamelid.’ To his niece Katerine, ‘for a tookne of rememberaunce, a gold
ryng, wretyn with jnne the gold ryng, _In noi é Ih’u signo me signo tab_.’
To William Clopton, ‘the jemews and the rynges of sylvir, therin wretyn
_Grace me governe_, for a tookne he vowchesaf in tyme comyng to shewe his
good maistershepe to my wil.’ To ‘Thomais Brews, esquiyer, my crampe ryng,
with blak innamel and a part sylvir and gilt.’
Anne of Cleves, who survived Henry VIII., left by her will several
mourning-rings of various values for distribution among her friends and
dependents.
In the ‘Wills from Doctors’ Commons, 1495 to 1695’ (Camden Society),
Cecily, Duchess of York (1495), gives to John Metcalfe and Alice his wife
‘all the ringes that I have, except such as hang by my bedes and Agnus,
and also except my signet.’
Anne Barett (1504) bequeaths to Our Lady of Walsingham ‘my maryeng ryng,
with all thyngys hangyng theron.’
Agnes Hals (1554) leaves to her son ‘a rynge with the Passion of gold,’
and to her niece ‘my ringe with the wepinge eie;’ to another son ‘my rynge
with the dead ma̅n̄es head.’
Jasper Despotin, M.D. (1648), wills and appoints ‘ten rings of gold to be
made of the value of twenty shillings a peece sterling, with a death’s
head vpon some of them, within one moneth after my dep̱ture, and to be
disposed of amongst my friends as my executrices shall thinke meet.’ To
Mr. Gibbon, ‘fortie shillings sterling to buy him a ring for a memoriall
of me.’
Lady Anne Drury (1621) bequeaths ‘tenne pounds a peece to all my brothers
to buy them ringes, and twentie pounds to be bestowed in ringes of tenne
shillinges amongest my freinds whom they shall thinke fitte.’
Edmund Lee (1535) mentions in his will ‘my ij wrethed rynge of gold, whych
I ware on my thombe;’ also ‘my gold ryng wt a turkes, and a crampe ryng of
gold wt all.’
Dame Maude Parr (1529), amongst other bequests of rings, mentions one
‘with a table diamontt sett with blacke aniell, meate for my little
finger.
Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester (1557), bequeaths, ‘to my Lord
Legate’s Grace (Cardinal Pole) a ring with a dyamounte, not so bigge as he
is wourthie to have, but such as his poore orator is able to geve.’
Speaker Lenthall (1682) appoints his executor ‘to give my friends Sir John
Lenthall, his lady and children, and other my cozens and nephews, 50 gold
rings with this motto, “Oritur non Moritur.”’ In a codicil he adds: ‘I
also desire that my son will weare his mother’s wedding-ring about his
arme in remembrance of her.’
William Prynne (1699) bequeaths ‘to my deare brother, Mr. Thomas Prynne,
my best gold ring with my father’s armes.’ To Katheryne Clerke, ‘my best
serjeant’s ring.’ To her husband, ‘one of my gold rings. Item. I give to
every one of their sonnes and daughters who shal be living at the tyme of
my decease one gold ring, and one hundred pounds a peece.’
In the will of Sir Richard Gresham (died 1548), father of the founder of
the Exchange, he bequeathed a ring to the Protector, Duke of Somerset, and
another to the profligate Duchess of Somerset, each of the value of five
pounds, and he also left rings to all his friends.
John Meres, an ‘Esquire Beadle’ of Corpus Christi College, left, in 1558,
to the Vice-Chancellor of the College a ring weighing a royal (valued at
ten shillings): to Dr. Hutcher, a ring worth fifteen shillings, and a gold
ring set with a cornelian to each of the ‘supervisors.’ Meres had a patent
for being gauger in 1550.
Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury, gave by will (1575) a gold ring
with a round sapphire to Edmund Grindal, Archbishop of York, who succeeded
him in the see of Canterbury.
In Collins’s ‘Baronage’ is the curious will of Thomas Sackville, Earl of
Dorset (Lord High Treasurer in the times of Elizabeth and James I.), in
which several rings are mentioned (see chapter on ‘Token-Rings’). Amongst
others ‘a ring of gold enamelled black, wherein is set a great table
diamonde, beying perfect and pure, and of much worth.’ This ring, with
other jewels, was given to him by the King of Spain. During the minority
of his descendants, these were to be consigned, as heirlooms, ‘in a strong
chest of iron, under two several keys,’ to the custody of the Warden, and
a senior fellow of New College, Oxford.
Sir Philip Sidney (1586) desires that ‘three gold rings, set with large
diamonds, might be fashioned exactly alike, for his aunt, the Countess of
Sussex; another aunt’s husband, the Earl of Huntingdon; and his
brother-in-law, the Earl of Pembroke.’
Thomas Wentworth, one of the chiefs of that great house, who died in 1587,
bequeathed to his son and heir, William, besides other valuables, his gold
ring, ‘whereon is engraved his crest, badge, and cognizance.’
Among the Rokeby family papers, in the will of Sir Ralph Rokeby (1600), is
the bequest of several rings, ‘gratuities to kynsfolkes.’
Thomas Sutton, founder of the Charter House, bequeaths (in 1611) ten
pounds to Mr. Thomas Brown, ‘to make him a ring.’
Our great national dramatist, Shakspeare, in his will (dated 1616)
mentions certain moneys for the purchase of rings by several of his
friends. Five are mentioned: two are his townsmen, Hamlet (_Hamnet_)
Sadler, and William Reynolds, who have each twenty-six shillings and
eightpence left them ‘to buy them ringes,’ the other three being the
actors (‘my fellows,’ as he affectionately terms them), John Hemynge,
Richard Burbage, and Henry Cundell, each of whom has a similar sum.
In the testament of Richard Burgess, vicar of Witney (1632), he gives to
his eldest son, John, the ring which he usually wore on his left hand, and
also ‘twenty shillings to each of the two overseers of his last will, to
purchase rings.’
Sir Henry Wotton, in 1637, leaves to each of the Fellows at Eton College
‘a plain gold ring, enamelled black, all save the verge, with this motto
within, “Amor unit omnia.”’
In a will, dated 1648, occurs this clause: ‘I do will and appoint ten
rings of gold to be made, of the value of twenty shillings a piece,
sterling, with a death’s-head upon some of them.’
The stock of rings described in the Duke of Newcastle’s play, ‘The
Varietie’ (1649), as the treasure of an old country lady, is suggestive of
past legacies or memorials as well as the tastes of the yeomanry at that
period: ‘A toadstone, two Turkies (turquoises), six thumb-rings, three
alderman’s seals, five gemmals, and foure death’s-head,’ The enumeration
concludes with the uncomplimentary observation, ‘these are alehouse
ornaments’ (Fairholt).
There are numerous varieties of mourning rings left by bequest in former
times. The accompanying illustration represents one that would appeal to
the feelings of the survivors in the simple and affecting inscription
which it bears: ‘When this you see, remember me.’ The ring is of silver,
jet, and gold.
Miss Agnes Strickland, in her ‘Lives of the Four Princesses of the Royal
House of Stuart,’ mentions a circumstance in the life of the Princess
Henrietta Anne (1670), that, ‘as Bossuet was kneeling by her bedside, she
suddenly turned to one of her ladies and spoke to her in English, which
the Bishop did not understand, to tell her that when she should have
entered into her rest, she was to give Bossuet the emerald ring which had
been ordered to be made for him as a memorial of her.’
Izaak Walton added a codicil to his will (1683) for the distribution of
memorial rings to several of his relations and friends, with the motto, ‘A
friend’s farewell. I. W., obiit;’ the value of the rings to be thirteen
shillings and fourpence each. In the will itself he gives to his
son-in-law, Dr. Hawkins, ‘whom I love as my own son;’ to his daughter, his
wife, and his son Izaak, a ring to each of them, with the motto, ‘Love my
memory. I. W., obiit.’ To the Lord Bishop of Winchester a ring, with the
motto, ‘A mite for a million. I. W., obiit.
In a codicil of the last testament of Nell Gwyn (1687) she requests that
Lady Fairborne may have fifty pounds given to her to buy a ring.
Dr. John Spencer, Master of Corpus Christi College, in his will (1693)
left twenty shillings to each of the Fellows of his college for a funeral
ring.
Queen Elizabeth, eldest daughter to James the First, wore to the day of
her death a mourning ring, in which was a lock of her brother’s hair,
brought over to Bohemia by a faithful servant, with the device of a crown
over a skull and cross-bones, and the letters ‘C. R.’ After her death, in
1662, it was much prized by her descendants, and was long a heirloom among
them.
On the eve of the death of Henrietta Anne, the daughter of Charles the
First, she sent most tender messages to her brothers King Charles the
Second, and James, Duke of York; and, drawing from her finger a ring, she
expressed a wish that it might be sent to the former, as a memorial of her
dying love.
A remarkable interest is attached to the bequest of a ring by Sir Charles
Cotterell, master of the ceremonies, who died in 1700. The particulars are
given in the ‘Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries’ (January 30,
1862). ‘I bequeath to my constantly obliging Friend, S{r} Stephen Fox, a
ring w{th} a figure cut in an onyx, which was given by King Charles y{e}
first, from his Finger to S{r} Philip Warwick, at y{e} Treaty in the Isle
of Wight, to seal letters he there writt for him, and wh{ch} S{r} Philip
left to me for a Legacy, and w{ch} I cannot leave to anybody that has been
a greater Honourer of that Excellent Prince’s Memory, nor a Worthier
Friend to us both, and who for these reasons I know will value it.’ To
this has been added, by Sir Stephen Fox, ‘which I leave to my son Stephen
and his Heirs, enjoining him to keep it in remembrance of the excellent
King that gave it off his Finger to S{r} Philip Warwick, who died in
August 1684, and his son Philip at New Market a month after, and excellent
S{r} Charles Cotterell died in the year 1700, and after this was left to
my good son Charles, who died in September 1713. Ste(phen) Fox.’
At the commencement of the first of these memoranda, and (observes Mr.
Franks, by whom these particulars were given to the Society) at the
conclusion of the last are much-mutilated impressions from a very small
antique gem, which, there can be no doubt, is the onyx set in the ring in
question. The figure is of fine workmanship, and represents a
partially-draped young man standing in profile to the right. It is,
possibly, a representation of Mercury, and resembles somewhat in attitude
the bronze statue found at Huis, in the south of France, and known as the
Payne Knight Mercury.
Mr. Franks corrects an error of Sir Stephen Fox as to the date of the
death of Sir Philip Warwick, which took place January 15, 1682-3.
The subsequent history of this remarkable ring is contained in a short
note written on the envelope enclosing the above memoranda, by the Earl of
Ilchester, son of Sir Stephen Fox. ‘Memorandum: I am much concerned for
the loss of the ring which was given by King Charles I. to Sir Philip
Warwick, as mentioned in the enclosed paper. This ring was stolen when my
house in Burlington Street was broken open by rogues in January 1722.’
‘With these papers’ (remarks Mr. Franks) ‘is preserved a long letter
giving an account of the burglary, which took place during the absence of
the family, and was of a very cool and daring character. It is sadly to be
feared that the gold setting of the ring has found its way to the
melting-pot; the onyx, however, may have been preserved, and may,
probably, be hereafter identified by the mutilated impressions in the Earl
of Ilchester’s possession.’
In the Appendix to Pepys’s ‘Diary’ is a list of all the persons to whom
rings and mourning were presented upon the occasion of his death (May 26,
1703) and funeral, by which it appears that forty-six rings of the value
of twenty shillings, sixty-two at fifteen shillings, and twenty at ten
shillings were distributed among friends on that occasion.
In a codicil to the will of Bishop Burnet (died 1715) a long list of
legacies occurs to his children; some of these were afterwards erased, and
amongst them the bequest of ‘my pointed diamond’ to Gilbert, his second
son. The ring was given to the late Sir John Sewell of Doctors’ Commons,
by a descendant from Bishop Burnet. This ring is in the possession of Mr.
C. Desborough, Bedford. In the collection of the Duke of Richmond is a
memorial ring, gold, set with diamond, hoop enamelled in white, and
inscribed ‘E. S. Dux Buckingensis,’ divided by a ducal coronet on a black
ground. English work of the middle of the seventeenth century. Made in
memory of Edmund Sheffield, second Duke of Buckingham, who died a minor in
1735.
That great man, George Washington, in his will, thus bequeaths ‘to my
sisters-in-law Hannah Washington and Mildred Washington, to my friends
Eleanor Stuart, Hannah Washington, of Fairfield, and Elizabeth Washington,
of Hayfield, I give each a mourning-ring of the value of one hundred
dollars. These bequests are not made for the intrinsic value of them, but
as mementos of my esteem and regard.’
In a few loving words addressed by a Lady Palmerston, when dying, to her
husband, after mentioning the wealth at her disposal, which she gave to
him, she mentions two chocolate-cups formed of mourning-rings, which were
used daily by Lady Palmerston in memory of departed friends; these she
wished her husband to look upon as a remembrance of death, and also of the
fondest and most faithful friend he ever had.
A very long list might be added of bequests of rings by distinguished
persons, but I must be content to notice how the practice has been
continued at intervals to the present time. A notable item occurs in the
will of Charlotte Augusta Matilda, eldest daughter of George III., and
Queen of Wurtemberg, in which she bequeaths to the Princess Augusta, among
other costly objects, a ring containing a watch, set with brilliants.
Rings were formerly given to attendants at funerals; an extract from the
books of the Ironmongers’ Company, dated 1719, states: ‘The master
acquainted the court that one John Turney, an undertaker for funerals, had
lately buried one Mrs. Mason for the Hall, but had refused the master,
wardens, and clerk each a ring, &c., according to his agreement, the
persons invited being served with gloves, hat-bands, and rings. Ordered:
the said undertaker be compelled to perform his agreement as the master
and wardens shall direct.’ The practice of offering rings at funerals is
introduced as an incident in ‘Sir Amadace.’
In former days widows wore their ring on the thumb as an emblem of
widowhood, and the following ‘trick’ in connection with it is mentioned
in the ‘Spectator:’–‘It is common enough for a stale virgin to set up a
shop in a place where the large thumb-ring, supposed to be given her by
her husband, quickly recommends her to some wealthy neighbour, who takes a
liking to the jolly widow that would have overlooked the veritable
spinster.’
Among the most touching episodes in connection with memorial rings is that
exhibited in the closing hours of the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, at
Fotheringay Castle, just previous to her execution. She distributed the
jewels that remained to her among her faithful attendants as tokens of her
affection and regard. Among other sad memorials, she desired that a
sapphire ring, which she took from her finger, might be conveyed as a mark
of grateful acknowledgment to her brave kinsman Lord Claude Hamilton.
Concerning this ring, Bishop Burnet says, ‘it is carefully preserved as
one of the most precious heirlooms of that illustrious family.’ Miss
Strickland informs us that it is now in the possession of Lord Claude’s
accomplished representative, the present Duke of Hamilton, ‘by whom it was
courteously shown to me at Hamilton Palace in 1857. It is a large square
sapphire of peculiar beauty, rose-cut in several diamond-points, and set
in gold enamelled blue in the curious cinque-cento work of that period.’
In the ‘Times’ (January 2, 1857) is an account of another memorial ring of
the last sad hours of Queen Mary at Fotheringay. The letter is signed ‘A
Constant Reader.’ ‘There is a lady residing at Broadstairs who is in
possession of the identical ring which was worn by Mary, previous to her
execution, and given by her to one of her maids of honour as a token of
remembrance, and who was afterwards so reduced as to be compelled to sell
it for the value of the gold. The engraving is on amber, the usual
material for such purposes at that period, and, as you may see from the
enclosed impression, is much worn by time. It is supposed that the seal in
the late Earl of Buchan’s collection was copied from it. This valuable
antique was purchased many years ago by a member of the present
possessor’s family, at the sale of the celebrated antiquary John M’Gowan,
of Edinburgh, who considered it a most valuable gem.’
A ring memorial was sent by the Countess of Hertford (the great
granddaughter of Henry VII., and one of the victims of Queen Elizabeth’s
jealousy) on her dying bed by the hands of Sir Owen Hopton, of Cockfield
Hall, Suffolk: ‘This shall be the last token unto my lord that ever I
shall send him. It is the picture of myself.’ The ring bore a death’s head
with an inscription around it: ‘while I live–yours.’
The Londesborough Collection contains two memorial rings of King Charles
I., one of gold, with a table-faced diamond, and two smaller diamonds on
each side. On the shank is engraved an elongated skeleton, with
cross-bones above the skull, and a spade and pickaxe at the feet upon
black enamel. Within is engraved ‘C. R., January 30, 1649, Martyr.’
The other ring is also of gold, with a square table-faced diamond on an
oval face, which opens and reveals beneath a portrait of Charles in
enamel. The face of the ring, the back and side portions of the shank are
engraved with scroll-work, filled in with black enamel.
In the fifteenth day’s sale (May 11, 1842) at Strawberry Hill (lot 59), ‘a
truly interesting relic,’ as the ring was termed, is recorded to have been
bought by Mr. Harvey, of Regent Street, for fifteen guineas. In Horace
Walpole’s catalogue it is described as one of the _only seven_
mourning-rings given at the burial of Charles I. It has the King’s head in
miniature behind a death’s-head between the letters ‘C. R.’ The motto is
‘Prepared be to follow me.’ A present to Horace Walpole from Lady Murray
Elliott.
‘A long and minute account of a ring,’ remarks the late Crofton Croker,
‘with a miniature of Charles I., appeared in the “Gentleman’s Magazine”
for July 1823. It was then in the possession of the late Captain I. Toup
Nicholas, R.N., and he inherited it from the Giffard family. This ring had
four diamonds on the top, on lifting up which, a head of King Charles,
enamelled on a turquoise, presented itself. The size of the painting does
not exceed the fourth part of an inch; the execution is particularly fine,
and the likeness excessively faithful. The small part of his Majesty’s
dress which is visible, appears similar to that in which he is usually
represented; and a piece of the ribbon to which the “George” is suspended
is discernible; on closing the lid the portrait becomes perfectly hid.
Although miniatures of Charles I. are not uncommon, this is particularly
valuable from the portrait being concealed, and also from its being
supposed to be the smallest of him.’
At page 152 of Hulbert’s ‘History of Salop’ is an account of a ring in the
possession of the Misses Pigott, of Upton Magna, said to be one of the
four presented by Charles I., prior to his execution. It bears a small but
beautiful miniature of the royal martyr. Inside the ring and reverse of
the portrait is inscribed over a death’s-head ‘January 30, 1649,’ inside
of the ring is engraved ‘Martyr Populi.’
A similar ring to this is in the possession of Mrs. Henderson (formerly
Miss Adolphus), of London; and is said to have come to her in the female
line, through her mother’s family. Charles presented it to Sir Lionel
Walden on the morning in which he lost his life. It bears a miniature
likeness of the King, set in small brilliants. Inside the ring are the
words ‘Sic transit gloria mundi.’ A ring bearing the same inscription and
a miniature of King Charles is in the collection of John Evans, Esq.,
F.R.S., Vice-President of the Antiquarian Society.
In the family of Rogers, of Lota, a ring is still preserved as a heirloom
which was presented to an ancestor by King Charles I. during his
misfortunes. In the will of Robert Rogers, which was registered in the
Record-office, Dublin, occurs the following paragraph: ‘And I also
bequeath to Noblett Rogers the miniature portrait-ring of the martyr
Charles I., given by that monarch to my ancestor, previous to his
execution, and I particularly desire that it may be preserved in the name
and family.’ The miniature, which is beautifully painted in enamel, and
said to be by Vandyck, has been re-set in a very tasteful and appropriate
style: the original settings and inscriptions exactly correspond with
those on the ring in the possession of the Misses Pigott, as previously
mentioned. The correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries,’ from whom I have
derived this information, adds: ‘I have lately seen a ring with a portrait
of Charles on ivory in a coarse and very inferior style, and in a plain
gold setting. It is in the possession of a gentleman, in whose family it
has remained for several generations.’
Another memorial ring of Charles I. is described in the ‘Gentleman’s
Magazine’ (September 1823) as having belonged to a lady named Heanaud, who
died at Chelsea in 1809. ‘The ring itself was of pure gold, and without
jewellery or ornament of any kind. On the top of it was an oval of white
enamel, not more than half an inch in longitudinal diameter, and
apparently about an eighth of an inch in thickness. The surface was
slightly convexed, and divided into four compartments, in each of which
was painted one of the four cardinal virtues, which, although so minute as
to be scarcely perceptible to the clearest sight, by the application of a
glass appeared perfectly distinct, each figure being well proportioned,
and having its appropriate attitude. By touching a secret spring the case
opened and exposed to view a very beautifully-painted miniature of the
unfortunate Charles, with the pointed beard, mustachios, etc., as he is
usually portrayed, and, from its resemblance to the portraits generally
seen of the monarch, having every appearance of being a strong likeness.
Within the lid of this little box (for box, in fact, it was) were
enamelled, on a dark ground, a skull and cross-bones.’
Mr. Howe, master-gunner at the castle of Carisbrooke, had a little son,
who was a great favourite of the unfortunate Charles. One day, seeing him
with a sword at his side, the King asked him what he intended doing with
it. ‘To defend your Majesty from your Majesty’s enemies,’ was the reply,
which so pleased the King that he gave the child the signet-ring he was
wearing. It has descended to Mr. Wallace, of Southsea, a kinsman of Mr.
Cooke, of Newport, who belonged to the Howe family.
In Lockhart’s ‘Life of Scott’ it is stated that Sir Henry Halford gave Sir
Walter Scott a lock of the hair of Charles I., when the royal martyr’s
remains were discovered at Windsor, April 1813. Sir John Malcolm gave him
some Indian coins to supply virgin gold for the setting of this relic,
and, for some years, Sir Walter constantly wore this ring, which had the
word ‘Remember’ embossed upon it.
Miss Gerard is in possession of a memorial gold ring which is stated to
have been given to Bishop Juxon by Charles I., on the scaffold, since
which period it has been preserved as an heirloom in the family of the
present owner. The ring appears to resemble those of the period of Henry
VIII. It is described and engraved in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for
October 1797. The bezel is hexagonal, with death’s-head in white enamel on
black ground, surrounded by the legend ‘BEHOLD . THE . ENDE;’ round the
edge is the motto ‘RATHER . DEATH . THEN . FALS . FAITH.’ At the back the
initials ‘M’ and ‘L’ tied with a mourning ribbon.
This interesting ‘memorial’ was exhibited at the Loan Exhibition of
Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum in 1872.
In the Braybrooke Collection is one of the Royalist mourning-rings, of
gold, with slight hoop beautifully inlaid with black enamel, the top
surmounted by an oval box three quarters of an inch long, the sides of
which are ornamented with perpendicular ovals of black and white enamel
alternately. The inside or under part of the box is inlaid with fifteen
longer ovals in a similar manner, round a black centre, in imitation of a
sun-flower. The box contains a large and beautifully-painted portrait of
Charles I. on blue enamel ground, over a surface as large as half an
acorn. The base of this is bound by a narrow band of plain gold. Lord
Braybrooke described this ring as one of the most beautiful he had seen,
and, besides the superiority of the workmanship, the likeness is well
preserved.
In the same collection is a Royalist gold mourning-ring with black enamel
inlaid upon the shoulders of the hoop and also upon the circular box on
the top, which contains a sort of love-knot, or possibly intended for the
royal cipher, below a cut crystal setting.
After the execution of Dr. John Hewett, chaplain to Charles I., and the
object of Cromwell’s vindictive cruelty, a mourning-ring inscribed
‘Herodes necuit Johannem,’ was worn by the Royalists.
The mourning-ring for King Charles II. bore the inscription ‘Chs. Rex.
Remem.–obiit–ber.: 6th Feb. 1685.’
In the Waterton Collection at the South Kensington Museum is a memorial
gold ring, with oval bezel set with crystal, beneath which is a crown with
the initials ‘C. R. K. B.’ in gold, over hair (Charles II. and Catharine
of Braganza). English. Date about 1685. Diameter, nine-tenths of an inch.
Devices illustrative of death have frequently formed the subjects of
mourning-rings. Among some antiquities found in Sussex, and exhibited at
the Society of Antiquaries in March 1866, was the fragment of a
mourning-ring set with a coffin-shaped crystal, on which was delicately
engraved a skeleton.
In the Braybrooke Collection is a gold ring of about the end of the
sixteenth or beginning of the seventeenth century, with a hexagonal
tablet, which is inlaid with a white stone engraved with a death’s-head;
round it on the gold are engraved the words ‘Dye to Live.’[68]
In the same collection is a ‘memento mori’ ring, of bronze, with a tablet
on the hoop, half an inch square, and edges serrated; a death’s-head is
engraved upon it with the above inscription. Rings with the same device
and words are alluded to by Beaumont and Fletcher in the ‘Chances:’
I’ll keep it as they keep death’s-heads in rings,
To cry ‘memento’ to me.
Rings engraved with skulls and skeletons were not, however, necessarily
mourning-rings, but were worn also by persons who affected gravity. Luther
wore a gold ring with a small death’s-head in enamel, which is now
preserved in Dresden (see ‘Remarkable Rings’). Biron, in ‘Love’s Labour’s
Lost,’ refers to ‘a death’s face in a ring.’
Mr. Fairholt describes a ring on which two figures of skeletons surround
the finger and support a small sarcophagus. The ring is of gold,
enamelled, the skeletons being made still more hideous by a covering of
white enamel. The lid of the sarcophagus is also enamelled, with a Maltese
cross in red on a black ground studded with gilt hearts. This lid is made
to slide off and display a very minute skeleton lying within
(Londesborough Collection).
In the ‘Recueil des Ouvrages d’Orfévrerie,’ by Gilles l’Egaré, published
in the early part of the reign of Louis XIV., is an unusually good design
for a mourning-ring with skull decorations.
In the Londesborough Collection is a fine specimen of a mourning-ring of
the early part of the last century.
In digging a grave in or near Ripon some years ago a sexton discovered an
ancient signet-ring, on which was engraved a dormouse coiled up in sleep,
with an inscription around it, in black-letter characters, ‘Wake me no
man.’ A similar ring is said to have been turned up in a churchyard near
Scarborough.
At a meeting of the Royal Archæological Institute in April 1875, Mr.
Fortnum, F.S.A., exhibited a mourning-ring of Queen Anne, the bezel of
which is formed as a coffin, containing a mat of the Queen’s hair, over
which are the crowned initials A. R., and a death’s-head and cross-bones
beneath a piece of crystal. The hoop is enamelled black, with the
inscription ‘ANNA . REGINA . PIA . FELIX,’ in letters of gold; inside is
engraved, ‘Nat. 5 Feb. 1664. Inaug. 8 March 1702. Obt. 1 August 1714.’
In the Braybrooke Collection is a small and delicate lady’s gold
mourning-ring, in memory of Queen Mary, wife of William III. The hoop,
which is very slight, is inlaid upon the shoulders with black enamel and
surmounted by a square box for setting, ornamented with perpendicular
lines of the same down the sides. The box contains a tress of the deceased
Queen’s hair, plaited, with ‘M. R.’ and a crown in small gold ciphers laid
over it. A crystal, cut into facets, encloses them. The under side of the
box has a death’s-head and cross-bones inlaid in black enamel.
In the same collection is a gold mourning-ring, inscribed, in letters of
gold on black enamel, ‘Gulielmus III. Rex., 1702.’ After the ‘Rex.’ is a
death’s-head of gold. It is a slight gold hoop with a silver frame on the
summit, set round with six small pearls, and made to imitate a buckle with
a gold tongue across it, so that the band of it, visible below, resembles
the garter.
In the collection of the late Lady Fellows was an ivory patch-box, with
figure-subject carved in relief, formerly belonging to the unfortunate
Queen Marie Antoinette, and containing a small gold ring, given by her to
one of her attendants.
Pope bequeathed sums of five pounds to friends, who were to lay them out
in rings; and Gray, the poet, in his will, gives an amount of stock to
Richard Stonehewer, adding: ‘And I beg his acceptance of one of my
diamond rings.’ The same bequest is given to Dr. Thomas Warton of a
diamond ring and five hundred pounds. To his cousins he leaves his
watches, rings, etc.
A touching instance of ‘memorial’ rings occurs in late times. The Princess
Amelia, before her death, in 1810, had the sad satisfaction of placing on
the finger of her royal father, George III., a ring made by her own
directions for the express purpose, containing a small lock of her hair
enclosed under a crystal tablet, set round with a few sparks of diamonds.
This memorial of affection, given almost on her death-bed, hastened the
attack of the mental disorder from which the King had suffered so much
about twenty years before. The circumstances attending this gift were very
affecting; she held the ring in her hand at the time of her father’s
accustomed visit, and, while placing it on his finger, said, ‘Take this in
remembrance of me.’
This affecting incident was commemorated by Dr. Wolcot in some elegant
lines, very different to his usual compositions:–
With all the virtues blest, and every grace
To charm the world and dignify the race,
Life’s taper losing fast its feeble fire,
The fair Amelia thus bespoke her sire:
‘Faint on the bed of sickness lying,
My spirit from its mansion flying.
Not long the light these languid eyes will see,
My friend, my father, and my king,
Receive the token and remember me!’
Lord Eldon wore a mourning-ring in memory of his wife, and desired in his
will that it might be buried with him.
A very interesting memorial ring in connection with the death of Nelson is
mentioned in a communication to ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. vii. 1st
series, p. 305). Mr. Nicholls, of Pelsall, Staffordshire, writes: ‘I am in
possession of a ring which in place of a stone has a metal basso-relievo
representation of Nelson (half-bust). The inscription inside the ring is
as follows: “A gift to T. Moon from G. L. Stoppleberg, 1815.” The late Mr.
Thomas Moon was an eminent merchant of Leeds, and the writer has always
understood that the ring referred to, is one of three or half a dozen
which were made subsequently to Nelson’s death. The metal (blackish in
appearance) forming the basso-relievo, set in them, being in reality
portions of the ball which gave the late lamented and immortal admiral his
fatal wound at Trafalgar.’
Another memorial ring of the greatest of our naval commanders is described
in ‘Notes and Queries’ (4th series, vol. x. p. 292) as belonging to a lady
whose husband’s father’s aunt married Earl Nelson (a clergyman), and whose
husband inherited the ring. ‘It is of gold; on the bezel, a broad oblong
with rounded corners, is a black enamelled field, surrounded by a white
border. In coloured enamel on the field appear two coronets, one that of a
viscount, with the velvet cap, but showing, however, only seven pearls,
the letter “N,” in Old English character, appearing underneath. The second
coronet is a British ducal one, without the cap, and has under it the
letter “B” in old English. Beneath the above runs in Roman capitals the
word “Trafalgar.” Round the broad hoop of the ring is incised, in Roman
capitals, “Palmam qui meruit ferat,” the hero’s motto, and inside the
bezel, in English cursive characters, “Lost to his country 21 Oct 1805.
Aged 47.”’
Of course, the coronets and letters ‘N’ and ‘B’ refer to the titles Nelson
and Bronté, but the heraldic insignia were evidently not executed by an
adept. The case in which this ring is lodged appears to be the original
one, and has on a printed oval label ‘Sa’ (the rest wanting, probably
‘ms’), ‘Jew’ (rest, of course, ‘eller’), ‘Silversmith, and Cutleer, 35,
Strand.’
On the subject of Nelson memorial rings, the Rev. Dr. Gatty, in ‘Notes and
Queries’ (4th series, vol. x. p. 356), says: ‘I do not think these rings
can be very uncommon, and I have no doubt that Sir Thomas Hardy and other
officers serving under Lord Nelson received one. My wife, who is a
daughter of the Rev. A. J. Scott, D.D., Nelson’s chaplain and foreign
secretary on the “Victory,” has one in her possession, which was sent to
her father, and to whom Lord Nelson left a legacy of 200_l._ Our friend
Mrs. Mirehouse, a daughter of the late Bishop Fisher of Salisbury, has
also a similar ring. We have always thought they were given, after the old
fashion of “mourning” rings. The pattern is certainly handsome and
tasteful.’
Mr. H. S. Williams, F.R.H.S., writing to the editor of ‘Notes and Queries’
(4th series, vol. x. p. 441), remarks that rings (with the Viscount’s
coronet with ‘N’ beneath it for the title Viscount Nelson, the ducal
coronet, that of Sicily, for the Bronté estate and dukedom) of this
description were made in 1806 by Lord Nelson’s private friend Salter,
jeweller in the Strand, and by the order of Dr. William Nelson, who was
then Earl Nelson. There were fully a hundred of these rings originally
made, as every admiral and post captain, then living, who was present at
the Battle of Trafalgar had one, as well as every member of the Nelson,
Bolton, and Matcham families.
The custom of decorating the dead with their jewellery (including rings)
has been traced in a remarkable manner to the earliest periods of the
world’s history. In Genesis xli. 56, 57, we read: ‘The famine was over all
the face of the earth, and Joseph opened all the storehouses, and sold
unto all the Egyptians; and the famine waxed sore in the land of Egypt.
And _all countries_ came into Egypt for to buy corn, because that the
famine was so sore in all lands.’
But Joseph could not empty the storehouses of Egypt to satisfy the
cravings of all lands, nor sell away the bread of Egypt at any price when
money became less precious than bread.
Such was the state of things when an Arabian princess in Yemen wrote, or
when in her name were written, to be inscribed on her sepulchre, some
impressive lines. Ebn Hesham relates that a flood of rain had laid bare a
sepulchre in Yemen, in which lay a woman having on her neck seven collars
of pearls, and on her hands and feet bracelets and armlets, and
ankle-rings, seven on each, _and on every finger a ring in which was set a
jewel of great price_, and at her head a coffer filled with treasure, and
a tablet with an inscription thus translated by Mr. Forster:–
In thy name, O God, the God of Himyar,
I, Tajah, the daughter of Dzu Shefar, sent my servant to Joseph,
And he delaying to return to me, I sent my handmaid,
With a measure of silver, to bring me back a measure of flour:
And not being able to procure it, I sent her with a measure of gold:
And not being able to procure it, I commanded them to the ground:
And finding no profit in them, I am shut up here.
Whosoever may hear of it, let him commiserate me;
And should any woman adorn herself with an ornament
From my ornaments, may she die with no other than my death.
Inexorable with the Arabian princess, severe with his own brethren, proof
against the blandishments of Potiphar’s wife, yet susceptible of every
pure and generous affection, this saviour of Egypt was ever consistent
with himself.[69]
This Biblical monument confirms in a remarkable manner the truth of the
Old Testament history.
In opening ancient sepulchral barrows plain or jewelled rings have in many
instances been found, which, perhaps, a widowed wife or widower took from
their fingers, and flung, in the intensity of their grief, into the graves
of those they mourned. A modern instance of this is given in the ‘Times’
of October 28, 1865, when, at the funeral of Lord Palmerston in
Westminster Abbey, the chief mourner, the Rev. Mr. Sullivan, as ‘a
precious offering to the dead,’ threw into the grave several diamond and
gold rings. Small rings are frequently met with on the breasts of mummies.
At the excavations at Veii and Præneste, by Padre Raffaele Garucchi, a
great quantity of tiny rings of yellow and blue enamel were found, of a
similar character to those mentioned.
It was customary among the Anglo-Saxons to place rings and other ornaments
in the grave: an early Anglo-Saxon poem, recounting the adventures of the
chieftain Beowulf and his burial, states ‘they put into the mound rings
and bright gems.’
The custom of burying corpses with a ring on the finger continued for
ages, as I have remarked in several chapters of this work. Annexed is an
illustration, from the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. ii. p. 32, 1773), of a ring
with seventy-five table-diamonds, set in gold, found in 1748 in a grave at
Carne, seven miles west of Mullinghar, in the county of Westmeath,
Ireland.
In the antiquarian researches in the Ionian Isles in 1812 (‘Archæologia,’
vol. xxxiii.) some rings were discovered in tombs at Samo and Ithaca. One
of these appears to have been a silver finger-ring, or signet, bearing on
the upper part an elliptic piece of glass or crystal, in a state of
decomposition, turning on the wire that passes through it.
The other is a gold ring of solid fabric, having for device the figure of
a female with a bare head; one arm is enveloped in the folds of her dress,
while the other hand is pouring incense on a slender altar. A zigzag
garland surrounds the verge of the field. The locality would suggest that
it may represent Penelope sacrificing to some tutelar deity, and invoking
it to conduct Ulysses home in safety–a conceit which might hold good,
even were the work decided to be Roman.
There are some remarkably fine specimens of rings in the Royal Danish
Museum, which have been discovered in Scandinavian graves, and some of
which are represented in the chapter on ‘Rings from the Earliest Period’
(p. 68).
On the opening of some barrows on the wolds of Yorkshire in 1815, 1816,
and 1817, among other disinterments was the skeleton of a female, and some
of her ornaments; amongst others, a ring of red amber, in exterior
diameter 1⅝ in., in interior diameter half an inch. Also a small ring
scarcely one inch in diameter, and a ring of very nearly standard gold,
weighing 3 dwts. 21 grs. In front this ring is clasped in a kind of rose,
or quatrefoil, and it is an ornament by no means of despicable
workmanship. The era of this interment is supposed to be prior to a
general extension of Christianity in Britain.
Stukeley (Abury, p. 45) records the finding of a flat gold ring in a
barrow at Yatesbury. Douglas, in his discoveries of a later date (‘Nenia
Brit.’ p. 117), says ‘rings to the finger seldom occur of any ponderous
metal, like the Roman ones of gold, silver, and bronze.’
In the museum at Mayence (the Roman Maguntiacum, or Mogontiacum), so
exceedingly rich in antiquarian remains, there are some fine specimens of
finger-rings found in Franconian graves. The following illustration
represents a gold ring, set with a coin, which is probably the copy of a
Roman one:–
In the second cut the inscription of the reverse, excepting a few letters,
is erased in the process of fastening the ring to it, by the melting of
the metal.
A metal ring with inscription translated ‘In Dei nomine, Amen.’
A gold finger-ring with a figure in the centre of the shield; the
ornaments of dragons on the outer panels are inlaid with dark blue
enamel:–
In ancient times rings were burnt with the corpse. When Cynthia’s shade
appears to Propertius, he remarks: ‘Et solitam digito adederat ignis;’ ‘a
fact (remarks the Rev. C. W. King) which fully accounts for the number of
fine intagli partly or wholly calcined which every collector meets with
not unfrequently, and often with the greatest regret at the destruction of
some matchless specimen of the skill of the engraver.’
At the burial of Cæsar we are told that, among the tokens of grief
exhibited by the Romans, the matrons burned on his funeral pyre their
personal ornaments, the robes and even the rings of their sons.
‘The Greeks and Romans,’ observes Mr. Fairholt, ‘literally revelled in
rings of all styles and sizes. Nothing can be more beautiful in design and
exquisite in finish than Greek jewellery; and the custom of decorating
their dead with the most valued of these ornaments has furnished modern
museums with an abundance of fine specimens.’
The two rings next represented are copied from originals found in the more
modern Etruscan sepulchres, and are probably contemporary with the
earliest days of the Roman Empire.
In one of these rings the hoop is not perfected, each extremity ending in
a broad, leaf-shaped ornament, most delicately banded with threads of
beaded and twisted wire, acting as a brace upon the finger.
Lord Braybrooke purchased in 1849 a Roman gold finger-ring, set with an
intaglio in ribbon onyx, which was found in a Roman stone coffin at York:
subject, a Fortuna Redux. In the same collection is a very curious and
massive gold mourning-ring formed of two knotted withes twisted together;
the knots are hollowed to receive enamel. The inscription inside the hoop
is, in old English characters: ‘When ye loke on thys, thyncke on hym who
gave ye thys.’ This ring was found in the Thames at Westminster.
In the Londesborough Collection is the representation of a ring found upon
the hand of a lady’s skeleton, who was buried with her child in a
sarcophagus discovered in 1846 in a field near Amiens, called ‘Le Camp de
César;’ on two of her fingers were rings, one of which was set with ten
round pearls, the other, represented in the collection mentioned, is of
gold, in which is set a red cornelian, engraved with a rude representation
of Jupiter riding on the goat Amalthea. The child also wore a ring, with
an engraved stone. The whole of the decorations for the person found in
this tomb proclaim themselves late Roman work, probably of the time of
Diocletian.
It is customary in Russia on the death of a sovereign to distribute
mourning-rings to those connected with the imperial court. A writer in
‘Notes and Queries’ (4th series, vol. iii. p. 322) remarks: ‘When I was at
St. Petersburg, I saw one of the rings given on the death of the late
Emperor Nicholas. They were in the form of a serpent, enamelled black.
Attached to the head and within the body of the ring was a narrow band of
metal inscribed with the name of Nicholas, and the date of his death. This
band was held within by a spring, in the same way as a spring
measuring-tape. The serpent’s head was mounted with two diamonds for eyes.
The ring I saw was presented to the gentleman in whose possession it then
was by reason of his official appointment of dentist to the imperial
family.’
In early times it was usual to bury sovereigns with their rings. During
some repairs at Winchester Cathedral in 1768 a monument was discovered
containing the body of King Canute. On his forefinger was a ring
containing a very fine stone.
In the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xlii. part ii. p. 309) is an account, by the
Rev. J. G. Joyce, B.A., F.S.A., of the opening and removal of a tomb in
Winchester Cathedral in 1868, reported to be that of King William Rufus.
Gale, in his ‘History of Winchester,’ states that the tomb was broken open
during the civil wars, and amongst other articles found was a large gold
ring. The body of Rufus, however, had been removed out of the tomb in
which it had originally lain (whether this or another) many years before
the civil wars broke out. Stow gives this testimony, and an inscription
upon a mortuary chest into which the bones of Rufus were translated
(1525), and which inscription was repeated a second time (1661). There is
reason for doubting whether this ring really belonged to King Rufus, and
that the tomb supposed to be that of the King is that of an ecclesiastical
dignitary. The Rev. J. G. Joyce adds: ‘I have not dwelt upon the ring,
because, while Milner, after Gale, alleges such a ring to have been taken
out of the tomb by the rebels, it is open to uncertainty whether this be
actually the one, and if so it was assuredly in company with the chalice
(found with the ring), and so makes against Rufus, and in favour of a more
saintly occupant.’
The ring known as that found in this tomb is not of gold, but of bronze
gilt. It is apparently intended for the thumb, very coarsely executed, and
has a plain square imitation jewel, which is a very poor copy of a
sapphire. A representation of this and another ring from tombs in
Winchester Cathedral are here given, from Woodward and Wilks’ ‘History of
Hampshire’ (London, 1858-69).
According to Matthew Paris, Henry II. was arrayed after death in his royal
vestments, having a golden crown on his head and a great ring on the
finger. The will of Richard II. directs that he should be buried with a
ring, _according to royal custom_. The same monarch, as Grafton states,
caused the dead body of Robert de Vere, Duke of Ireland, to be arrayed in
princely garments, garnished with a chain of gold, and rich rings put on
his fingers, with his face uncovered.
As an instance of royal interments with a ring at a late period, I may
mention that of William Frederic, Duke of Gloucester, who married his
cousin the Princess Mary, daughter of George III. He was buried in his
uniform, and wore on his finger a ring which had been an early love-gift
to him from the Princess whom he married.
In 1562 the Calvinists rifled the tomb of Queen Matilda, consort of
William the Conqueror, in the church of the Holy Trinity at Caen. One of
the party observed a gold ring with a sapphire on one of the Queen’s
fingers, and, taking it off, presented it to the Abbess of Montmorenci.
The same custom of monarchs being buried with their rings prevailed in
France during the early and middle ages. The gold ring of Childeric I.,
formerly in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, was found in the King’s
tomb at Tournay. It bore the inscription ‘Childirici regis.’[70]
‘The ring was not set with a gem, but had an oval bezel in the gold,
engraved with his bust in front face, holding a spear as in the type of
the contemporary Byzantine aurei. He wore the long hair of the Merovingian
line. Traces remained of the legend ‘Childirici Regis.’ The intaglio was
very neatly cut, infinitely superior to the execution of the Merovingian
coin-dies, and, in fact, so much in the style of Leo’s aurei, that it
might reasonably be supposed a present sent, with other offerings, from
Constantinople’ (the Rev. C. W. King, ‘Handbook of Engraved Gems’). The
engraving is taken from J. J. Chiflet’s ‘Anastasis.’
In 1793, at the exhumation of the bodies buried at the Abbey of St. Denis,
rings were found in several of the royal tombs. That of Jeanne de Bourbon,
consort of Charles V., was of gold, with the remains of bracelets and
chains. The ring of Philippe le Bel was also of gold; that of Jeanne de
Bourgoyne, first wife of Philippe de Valois, was of silver, as also the
ring of Charles le Bel.
To the ancient custom of interring prelates with their rings I have
alluded in the chapter on ‘Rings in Connection with Ecclesiastical
Usages.’
In 1780 the tomb of the great German Emperor Frederic, who died in 1250,
was opened, and the body discovered arrayed in embroidered robes, booted,
spurred, and crowned. A costly emerald ring was on one of the fingers,
and the ball and sceptre in the hands.
Some interesting ‘memorial’ rings were shown at the Loan Exhibition of
Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum in 1872, the
principal of which I have already mentioned. One of gold, oval bezel, set
round with amethysts, had, beneath glass, a representation of a fallen
tree, and a funeral urn with initials; the motto, ‘Fallen to rise;’ date,
1779; the property of Mr. G. F. Duncombe. Dr. Ashford exhibited a memorial
gold ring, hasp enamelled on the outside in black, with figure of a
skeleton and funereal emblems. Date, 1715. Five rings belonging to Mrs. M.
E. Vere Booth Powell; one of gold, oval bezel set round with rubies, in
the centre an urn jewelled with diamonds beneath a weeping willow; dated
at back 1779. A ring with a long, pointed, oval bezel, with miniature of a
female figure seated beside an inscribed pedestal, on which is an urn;
date, 1788. Another of a similar form, with miniature of an old man
holding a skull, seated near a Gothic building; inscribed, ‘Omnia
vanitas;’ 1782. A duplicate of this ring, undated. A ring with long
eight-sided bezel, gold, with dark-blue translucent enamel; in the centre
an urn set with diamonds; dated 1790. A gold ring, bezel set with portrait
of Charles I.; the property of the Rev. W. B. Hawkins. A massive gold
ring, enamelled and set with sapphire, engraved inside, ‘Napoleon
Buonaparte à Joachim Murat,’ 1809; exhibited by Mr. George Bonnor. A gold
ring, richly chased and enamelled in black, the bezel square, with rounded
top, which opens, showing within a representation of a corpse; Italian,
sixteenth century; the property of Dr. Ashford. A gold ring, in the centre
of which is a death’s-head in enamel, with the legend ‘Memento mori’ in
enamelled black letters; sixteenth century. Also, a gold ring with bezel
hollow; has had upon it a death’s-head in enamel, inscribed ‘Remember
Death;’ round the edge of the bezel is ‘Yeman + + joyce;’ early sixteenth
century. A gold ring, hexagonal bezel with motto ‘Death * sy * myn *
eritag +’; sixteenth century. The last three rings were exhibited by R. H.
Soden Smith, Esq., F.S.A. Memorial ring with portrait of Augustus III.,
son of Augustus the Strong, King of Poland and Saxony; early eighteenth
century. Another with enamelled skull, set with diamonds, probably German
of the seventeenth century; also, one of the same date, enamelled, with
skull and female face. The property of C. Drury Fortnum, Esq., F.S.A.

CHAPTER VIII.POSY, INSCRIPTION, AND MOTTO RINGS.
Within the hoop of the betrothal ring it was customary from the middle of
the sixteenth to the close of the eighteenth century to inscribe a motto
or ‘posy’ (poesie), consisting chiefly of a very simple sentiment.
Shakspeare, in the ‘Merchant of Venice’ (act v. scene 1), makes Gratiano,
when asked by Portia the reason of his quarrel with Nerissa, answer:
About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring,
That she did give me, whose posy was
For all the world like cutler’s poetry
Upon a knife, _Love me and leave me not_.
Hamlet (act iii. scene 2) says–
Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?
In ‘As You Like It’ (act iii. scene 2) Jaques remarks: ‘You are full of
pretty answers; have you not been acquainted with goldsmiths’ wives, and
conned them out of rings?’
In Ben Jonson’s comedy, ‘The Magnetic Lady,’ the parson, compelled to form
a hasty wedding, asks:
Have you a wedding ring?
To which he receives an answer–
Ay, and a posie:
_Annulus hic nobis, quod sic uterque, dabit_.
He exclaims:
——–Good!
_This ring will give you what you both desire_;
I’ll make the whole house chant it, and the parish.
The following illustration represents a posy-ring of the simplest form,
such as would be in use in the early part of the seventeenth century.
Herrick, in his ‘Hesperides,’ says:
What posies for our wedding-rings,
What gloves we’ll give and ribbonings!
And in his ‘Church Miserie’:
Indeed, at first, man was a treasure;
A box of jewels, shop of rarities,
A ring whose posie was ‘my pleasure.’
And in the same work, ‘The Posie:’
Lesse than the least
Of all Thy mercies is my posie still:
This on my ring,
This, by my picture, in my book I write.
Some of these posies and inscriptions are very appropriate and tender;
others are quaint and whimsical. Not the least curious among the latter is
that, well known, of Dr. John Thomas, Bishop of Lincoln, in 1753, who had
been married three times. On his fourth espousals he had the following
motto inscribed on his wedding-ring:
If I survive
I’ll make thee five.
Burke, in his ‘Anecdotes of the Aristocracy,’ states that Lady Cathcart,
on marrying her fourth husband, Hugh Macguire, had inscribed on her
wedding-ring:
If I survive
I will have five.
In far better taste than these was the motto on the ring presented by
Bishop Cokes to his wife on the day of their marriage. It bore the
representations of a hand, a heart, a mitre, and a death’s-head, with the
words:
These three I give to thee,
Till the fourth set me free.
‘On the wedding-ring that Dr. George Bull, Bishop of St. David’s (1703),
gave to his wife, was the inscription: “Bene parêre, parare det mihi
Deus”–a prayer she might be a prolific mother, an obedient wife, and a
good housekeeper. The prayer was heard; she had five sons and six
daughters, lived in wedlock happily fifty years, and was esteemed a model
housekeeper’ (Singer).
Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, died 1439, had three daughters, who
all married noblemen. Margaret’s husband was John Talbot, Earl of
Shrewsbury, and the motto of her wedding ring was, ‘Till deithe depart.’
Alianour married Edmund, Duke of Somerset, and her motto was, ‘Never
newe.’ Elizabeth married Lord Latimer, and hers was, ‘Til my live’s end.’
The custom of having posies on rings is thus alluded to in the ‘Art of
English Poesie,’ published in 1589: ‘There be also another like epigrams
that were sent usually for New Year’s gifts, or to be printed or put upon
banketting dishes of sugar-plate or of March paines, etc.; they were
called Nenia or Apophoreta, and never contained above one verse, or two at
the most, but the shorter the better. We call them poesies, and do paint
them now-a-dayes upon the back sides of our fruit-trenchers of wood, or
_use them as devises in ringes_ and armes.’
Henry VIII. gave Anne of Cleves a ring with the posy ‘God send me well to
kepe’–a most unpropitious alliance, for the King expressed his dislike to
her soon after the marriage. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries
posies were generally placed outside the ring.
In 1624 a collection of posies was printed, with the title, ‘Love’s
Garland, or Posies for Rings, Handkerchiefs, and Gloves, and such pretty
Tokens as Lovers send their Loves.’
At a meeting of the Archæological Institute, in March 1863, some curious
posy rings were exhibited by the Rev. James Beck; one, of particular
interest, dating from the early part of the fifteenth century, had been
dug up at Godstow Priory, Oxfordshire. It is a broad massive hoop of gold,
of small diameter, suited for a lady’s finger. The decoration on the hoop
consists of three lozenge-shaped panels, in which are represented the
Trinity, the Blessed Virgin with the infant Saviour, and a Saint, nimbed,
clad in a monastic habit, with the cowl falling upon the shoulders. The
intervening spaces are chased with foliage and flowers of the
forget-me-not; the whole surface was enriched with enamel, of which no
remains are now visible. Within the hoop is delicately engraved in small
black-letter character:
Most in mynd and yn myn herrt
Lothest from you ferto deparrt.
Also a plain gold hoop of the sixteenth century, found in 1862 at
Glastonbury Abbey, within which is engraved ‘Devx. corps. vng. cver,’ with
the initials ‘C. M.’ united by a true-love knot. Several plain gold rings
of the seventeenth century were also shown, inscribed with the following
posies, in each case within the hoop:–
I haue obtain’d whom God ordain’d.
God unite our hearts aright.
Knitt in one by Christ alone,
Wee joyne our loue in god aboue.
Joyn’d in one by god a lone,
God above send peace and love.
At the Loan Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South
Kensington Museum in 1872, J. W. Singer, Esq.,[71] contributed a
collection of posy rings, the mottos, for the most part, inscribed within
the hoop.
Gold, English of the fifteenth century, inscribed in Gothic letters
‘Gevoudroy.’
Another of the same date, gold; on the outside are engraved four
Maltese crosses; within, three Gothic letters, apparently E.
Gold, English, early sixteenth century, inscribed in large semi-Gothic
characters, ✠I x x AM x x YOURS x x K : S.
Gold, chased, has been enamelled ✠ESPOIR. EN. DIEU. (English, late
sixteenth century.)
Gold, massive, ‘MY HART AND I UNTILL I DY.’ (English, late sixteenth
century.)
Gold, massive, ‘I LOVE AND LIKE MY CHOYSE.’ (English, early
seventeenth century.)
Silver gilt: within, ‘I CHUSE NOT TO CHANGE.’ (English, seventeenth
century.)
Gold, chased, traces of enamel, ✠Let. Reson. Rule. (English,
seventeenth century.)
Gold, chased, ‘Let reason rule affection.’ (English, seventeenth
century.)
Gold, chased, traces of black enamel, ‘A token of good-will.’
(English, seventeenth century.)
Brass, ‘Live in Loue.’ (English, seventeenth century.)
Rings with double-line posies:
Gold, ‘In God aboue and Christ his Sonne, We too are joyned both in
one.’ (English, seventeenth century.)
Gold, ‘Who feares the Lord are blest, wee see; Such thou and I God
grant may bee.’ (English, seventeenth century.)
Gold, ‘As I in thee have made my choyce, So in the Lord let vs
rejoice.’ 1637, W. D. A. (English, seventeenth century.)
Gold, ‘As I expect so let me find, A faithfull ♡ and constant mind.’
(English, seventeenth century.)
Gold, ‘I like my choyce, so will. . . .’ the remainder obliterated.
(English, seventeenth century.)
Gold, chasing worn away, ‘Tho’ little, accept it,’ letters black
enamelled. (English, early eighteenth century.)
Gold, chased with representation of skeleton, cross-bones, and
hour-glass encircling the hoop; has been enamelled black, ‘You and I
will lovers dye.’ (English, about 1720.)
Gold, ‘Fear the Lord and rest content, So shall we live and not
repent. B. W. 1730.’ (English, eighteenth century.)
Gold, chased, inscribed within ‘T. Rowe, C. obt. 13 May, 1715, æt.
28.’ Worn by Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe, the poetess.
Gold, overlaid with open-work pattern of flowers in coloured enamel,
‘Rite to requite.’ (English, eighteenth century.)
Silver, two hands holding a heart, ‘Love and feare God.’ (English,
eighteenth century.)
Gold, massive, ‘Virtus est pretiosa gemma. Auribus frequentius quam
linguâ utere.’ Outside, in Gothic letters, ‘Voluptate capiuntur
homines non minus quam hamo pisces.’ (Modern English.)
A double-line gold wedding-ring in the collection of Mr. J. W. Singer
bears the words:
Them which God copleth
Let no man put them asonder.
This ring is a very early sixteenth-century one, and shows that
wedding-rings were not, formerly, the plain ones of the present day, but
were ornamented with fine work. Mr. Singer has several rings of this
description, ornamented in the same way.
Je sui ici en liu dami (Je suis ici en lieu d’ami).
No treasure like a treu friend. (Eighteenth century.)
Not to but on, till life be gon.
Correct our ways; Love all our dayes.
Hearts united live contented.
No cut to unkindness.
Conceave consent, confirme content.
No recompenc but remembrance.
Vertue only bringeth felicitie.
[The above nine rings from the Braybrooke Collection.]
From the Waterton Collection in the South Kensington Museum:
‡Amour‡Merci. (French, fourteenth century.)
Pensez deli Parkisvici (pensez de lui par que je suis ici). (English,
early fifteenth century.)
Je. le. de. sir. (English, late fifteenth century.)
Por tous jours. (English, fifteenth century.)
Nul sans peyn; _inside_, Sans mal desyr. (English, early sixteenth
century.)
+ My worldely joye alle my trust + hert, thought, lyfe, and lust.
(English, early sixteenth century.)
A plain gold hoop ring, inscribed within with a heart pierced with an
arrow, and the word ‘Eygen,’ a star, and the word ‘Uwer.’ (Dutch or
German, sixteenth century.)
Devx. corps, vng. ever. (English, sixteenth century.)
C’est mon plaisir. (English, sixteenth century.)
+ Quant. dieu. plera. melior. sera. (English, sixteenth century.)
Pour bien. (English, sixteenth century.)
My wille were. (English, sixteenth century.)
Time. deum. me. ama. q̄d̄ R/IE. (English, sixteenth century.)
+ Observe Wedloke; _inside_, Memento mori. (English, sixteenth
century.)
Loyalte na peur. (French, seventeenth century.)
Let liking last. (English, seventeenth century.)
This sparke will grow (set with a diamond). (English, seventeenth
century.)
Accept this gift of honest love, which never could nor can remove. 1.
Hath tide. 2. Mee sure. 3. Whilst life. 4. Doth last. (English,
seventeenth century.)
+ MB. Remember + the (a heart) + that + is + in + payne. (English,
seventeenth century.)
Time lesseneth not my love. (English, seventeenth century.)
In constancie I live and dye. (English, seventeenth century.)
Love the truth. (English, seventeenth century.)
My promise past shall always last. (English, eighteenth century.)
You have me hart. (Lady’s betrothal ring. English, eighteenth
century.)
Love ever. (English, seventeenth century.)
Love true, ’tis joy. (English, early seventeenth century.)
Love me. (English, eighteenth century.)
Keepe. fayth. till. deth.
I fancy noe butt thee alone.
+ Not this but mee;
* yf. this. then me.
Wheare grace is found
Love doth abound.
My soul will keep thine company to heaven.
Mr. Singer informs me that his early pre-Reformation wedding-rings have
the motto prefaced with a cross, and, as this died out, the remains of a
cross, in a kind of rude _star_, sometimes carried on between each word.
Mr. Singer has one bronze wedding-ring with a motto, found in Wiltshire,
but numerous silver ones.
Ma vie et mon amour
Finiront en un jour.
Dieu nous unisse
Pour son service.
Seconde moi pour te rendre heureuse.
Nos deux cœurs sont unis.
En ma fidélité je finirai ma vie.
Domine dirige nos.
Let us agree.
Continue constant.
My love is true
To none but you.
The gift is small,
But love is all.
In God and thee
My joy shall be.
Let not absence banish love.
Love in thee is my desire.
Whear this i giue
I wish to liue.
Let vs loue
Like turtle doue.
God saw thee
Most fit for me
(on the wedding-ring of the wife of John Dunton, the bookseller).
God did decree this unitie.
Where hearts agree, there God will be.
I have obtained whom God ordained.
Virtue passeth riches.
No force can move affixed Love.
Vnited hartes Death only partes.
Liue, loue, and be happie.
The love is true that I O U.
My love is fixt, I will not range.
I like my choice too well to change.
This is the thing I wish to win.
Well projected if accepted.
God thought fitt this knott to knitt.
A loving wife prolongeth life.
Let virtue be a guide to thee.
Thy Desart hath won my hearte.
Death only partes two loving heartes.
* B * TRVE * IN * HARTE *.
True loue is lye to man and wye.
(True love is life to man and wife.)
Lett Death leade loue to rest.
To Bodys on harte.
Good will is aboue Gould.
True love is the bond of peace.
A virtuous wife preserveth life.
Let our contest bee who loves best.
No chance prevents the Lord’s intents.
I joy in thee, joy thou in me.
And this also will pass away.
Fear God, honour the Prince,
Lye still Joan, and don’t wince.
If thee dosn’t work, thee shasn’t eat.
(From Monmouthshire.)
From the ‘Card of Courtship; or, The Language of Love, fitted to the
Humours of all Degrees, Sexes, and Conditions,’ 1653:
Thou art my star, be not irregular.
Without thy love I backward move.
Thine eyes so bright are my chief delight.
This intimates the lover’s states.
My life is done when thou art gone.
This hath no end, my sweetest friend.
Our loves be so, no ending know.
Love and joye can never cloye.
The pledge I prove of mutuall love.
I love the rod and thee and God. 1646.
All I refuse, but thee I chuse.
Gift and giver, your servants ever.
Non mœchaberis.
Tuut mon coer.
Mulier viro subjecta esto.
Sans departir à nul autre.
Tout mon cuer avez.
Lel ami avet.
Par ce present ami aumer rent.
(By this gift to love me given.)
Let Reason rule.
J’aime mon choix.
À vous à jamais.
Je suis content.
L’amour nous unit.
Je suis content, j’ai mon désir.
Je vous aime d’un amour extrême.
Ce que Dieu conjoint, l’homme ne le sépare point.
Desire hath no rest.
This and my heart.
Acceptance is my comfort.
God us ayde
(on a curious old ring, chased with the Nortons’ motto),
=i h c= Naserus rex Judiorum me serere +.
My giving this begins thy bliss.
Remember Him who died for thee,
And after that remember me.
Let me wish thee full happy be.
Tibi soli
(on Beau Fielding’s ring; _temp._ Queen Anne).
From a Commonplace Book of the seventeenth century in Sion College
Library:
There is no other, and I am he,
That loves no other, and thou art she.
Eye doth find, heart doth choose,
Faith doth bind, death doth lose.
Let us be one { To live in love
Till we are none { I love to live.
Love well, and { Virtus non vultus
Live well. { Patior ut potiar.
Sequor ut consequar.
I seek to be
Not thine, but thee.
Nowe ys thus
(inscription upon a gold ring found about 1786 on the site of the battle
of Towton, Yorkshire. The weight was more than an ounce; it had no stone,
but a lion passant was cut upon the gold. The inscription was in old black
characters. The crest is that of the Percy family, and it is supposed the
ring was worn by the Earl of Northumberland on the day of the battle
(March 29, 1461). The motto seems to allude to the times: ‘The age is
fierce as a lion’).
Je change qu’en mourant. Unalterable to my Perdita through life
(inscribed on a ring presented to Mrs. Robinson, by the Prince Regent,
afterwards George IV.).
If love I finde, I will bee kinde.
In thee my choyse how I reioyce.
In thee my choice I do rejoice
(this posy is on a massive gold ring, which is thus described by a writer
in ‘Notes and Queries’:–In the centre of the ornamentation outside is a
shield, with three lions passant on it. On the right of the shield H, and
on the left of it I, each letter having an old-fashioned crown over it. At
the extreme ends of the ornamentation, outside the letters H and I are
three fleurs-de-lys).
Take _hand_ and _heart_, ile nere depart.
Live and dye in constancy.
A vertuous wife y{t} serveth life.
As long as life your loving wife.
I will be yours while breath indures.
Love is sure where faith is pure.
A vertuous wife doth banish strife.
As God hath made my choyse in thee,
So move thy _heart_ to comfort mee.
God y{t} hath kept thy _heart_ for mee,
Grant that our love may faithfull bee.
God our love continue ever,
That we in heaven may live together.
The _eye_ did find, y{e} _heart_ did chuse,
The _hand_ doth bind, till death doth loose.
First feare y{e} Lord, then rest content,
So shall we live and not repent.
Breake not thy vow to please the eye,
But keepe thy love, so live and dye.
I am sent to salute you from a faithfull friend.
This and my heart.
Acceptance is my comfort.
Too light to requite.
Patience is a noble virtue.
Lost all content, if not consent.
A friend to one as like to none.
Your sight, my delight.
Virtue meeting, happy greeting.
As trust, bee just.
For a kiss, take this.
No better smart shall change my heart.
Hurt not y{r} _heart_ whose joy thou art
My heart and I until I dye.
Sweetheart I pray doe not say nay.
My heart you have and yours I crave.
As you now find so judge me kind.
Let this present my good intent (1758).
One word for all, I love and shall.
My constant love shall never move.
Like and take, mislike forsake.
The want of thee is griefe to mee.
Be true to me y{t} gives it thee.
Privata di te moriro.
Deprived of thee I die.
Till y{t} I have better
I remayne your detter.
Mon esprit est partout.
Mon cœur est avec vous.
Lite to requite.
Faithfull ever, deceitefull never.
I present, you absent.
Despise not mee, y{t} ioyes in thee.
I live, I love, and live contented,
And make my choice not to be repented.
Desire hath set my heart on fire.
I hope to see you yielde to mee.
Both, or neither, chuse you whether.
_Heart_, this, and mee, if you agree.
This accepted, my wish obtained.
This accepted, my wish affected.
Thy friend am I, and so will dye.
O y{t} I might have my delight.
Parting is payne when love doth remayne.
My corne is growne, love reape thy owne.
This thy desert shall crown my heart.
I fancy none but thee alone.
God sent her me my wife to be.
God’s appointment is my contentment.
This is your will to save or kill.
If you but consent, you shall not repent.
If you deny, then sure I dye.
W{th} teares I mourne, as one forlorne.
A friend to one, as like to none.
Your sight, my delight.
Grieve not his heart whose joy thou art.
First love Christ that died for thee.
Next to Hym love none but me.
Joye day and night bee our delight.
Divinely knitt by Grace are wee,
Late two, now one; the pledge here see.
B. & A. (1657).
Loue and liue happy (1689).
Avoid all strife ’twixt man and wife.
Joyfull loue this ring do proue.
In thee, deare wife, I finde new life.
Of rapturous joye I am the toye.
In thee I prove the joy of love.
In loving wife spend all thy life (1697).
True love will ne’er remove.
In unitie let’s live and dy.
Happy in thee hath God made me.
I loue myself in louing thee.
Silence ends strife with man and wife.
More weare–more were (1652).
I kiss the rod from thee and God.
This ring doth binde body and minde.
Endless as this shall be our bliss
(Thos. Bliss, 1719).
Death neuer parts such loving hearts.
Loue and respect I doe expect.
No gift can show the love I ow.
Loue thy chast wife beyond thy life (1681).
Loue and pray night and daye.
Great joye in thee continually.
My fond delight by day and night.
Pray to love, love to pray (1647).
Honour et Foye
(inscription on a gold ring belonging to Earl Fitzwilliam):
Body and minde in thee I finde.
Deare wife, thy rod doth leade to God.
God alone made us two one.
Eternally my loue shal be.
Worship is due to God and you.
God aboue continew our loue.
I wish to thee all joie may bee.
With my body I worship thee.
Beyond this life, loue me, deare wife.
Rien ne m’est plus,
Plus ne me rien (fifteenth century).
Une seule me suffit.
Elle m’a bien conduite.
De cuer entier.
In adversis etiam fida.
Even in adversity faithful.
Device–a mouse gnawing away the net in which a lion is caught.
Non immemor beneficii.
Mindful of kindness.
All that I desire of the Lord is to fear God and love me.
En bon foy.
I cannot show the love I O.
I love and like my choice.
Ryches be unstable
And beuty wyll dekay,
But faithful love will ever last
Till death dryve it away.
On a mediæval armillary ring, consisting of eight rings, one within the
other, each having a portion of the motto:
W. ♡ A. ☞ D. G. CS,
T. L. A. L. A. R. CT.
(Where heart and hand do give consent,
There live and love and rest content.)
Device–a golden apple.
Vous le meritez.
You deserve it.
I change only in Death.
Love I like thee; sweets requite mee.
Faithfull ever, deceitful never.
I like, I love, as turtle dove.
As gold is pure, so love is shure.
From ‘The Mysteries of Love and Eloquence; or, the Arts of Wooing and
Complementing, as they are manag’d in the Spring Garden, Hide Park, the
New Exchange, and other eminent places’ (London, 1658, pp. 154, 157):
Thou wert not handsom, wise, but rich;
’Twas that which did my eyes bewitch.
Divinely knit by God are we,
Late one, now two, the pledge you see.
We strangely met, and so do many,
But now as true as ever any.
As we begun so let’s continue.
My beloved is mine and I am hers.
True blue will never stain.
Against thou goest I will provide another.
Let him never take a wife
That will not love her as his life.
I do not repent that I gave my consent.
What the eye saw the heart hath chosen.
More faithful than fortunate.
Love me little but love me long.
Love him who gave thee this ring of gold,
’Tis he must kiss thee when thou ’rt old.
This circle, though but small about,
The devil, jealousy, shall keep out.
If I think my wife is fair
What need other people care.
This ring is a token I give to thee
That thou no tokens do change for me.
My dearest Betty is good and pretty.
I did then commit no folly
When I married my sweet Molly.
’Tis fit men should not be alone,
Which made Tom to marry Jone.
Su is bonny, blythe, and brown;
This ring hath made her now my own.
Like Philis there is none;
She truely loves her Choridon.
Nosce teipsum.
Think on mee.
Desire and deserve.
Keepe faith till death.
As God hath appointed
Soe I am contented.
(These are given from wills of the seventeenth century in the glossary
appended to ‘Fabric Rolls of York Minster,’ published by the Surtees
Society.)
Ever last
(on the rings given at the funeral of John Smith, Alderman of London, who
‘made a great game by musk catts which he kept’).
Redime tempus
(on the rings given at the funeral of Samuel Crumbleholme, Master of St.
Paul’s).
This and the giver
Are thine for ever.
My Joyh consisteth in Hope.
Quies servis nulla.
I desire to disarne (disarm).
I will you trewllie serve.
Success to the British flag.
Valued
may greater B.
Love
(Love undervalued may greater be.)
Great Dundee for God and me
(engraved on the inside of a ring with a skull, Viscount Dundee. This
relic of the famous Claverhouse, given to him by King James, was in the
possession of Miss Graham of Dundrune. It is stated to have been missing
since 1828).
Christ and thee my comfort be
(‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ vol. ii. p. 629).
OV EST NVL SI LOIAVLS
QVI SE POET GARDER DES MAVXDISANS
(on a gold ring found on Flodden Field, in the possession of George Allen,
Esq., of Darlington, 1785).
✠ I love you my sweet dear heart
✠ Go ✠ I pray you pleas my love
(on a silver ring found at Somerton Castle, Lincoln, in 1805).
CANDU PLERA MELEOR CERA
(inscribed on a brass thumb-ring formerly in the possession of the Marquis
of Donegal, 1813).
✠ IN GOD IS ALL
(on a silver ring found among the ruins of the Priory of St. Radigund,
near Dover, in 1831).
Tout pour bein feyre
(inscribed on a ring found at St. Andrew’s Chapel, near Ipswich).
Mon cur avez
Honour et joye
(on a gold ring found near St. Anne’s Well, Nottingham).
✠ Amor. vincit. om.
(on a silver ring found near Old Sarum).
An enamelled ring is mentioned in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ (vol.
lxxix.) as having been found in 1808 in the ruins of an old manor-house,
occupied in the sixteenth century by a family of distinction, which then
becoming extinct, the manor-house fell to decay.
(Inscription ring of gold, found in Sarthe, France, bearing the names
‘Dromachius’ and ‘Betta,’ supposed to be a marriage ring, of, probably,
the fifth century.)
Joye sans cesse. B. L.
Loue alway, by night and day.
Filz ou fille (Anthony Bacon, 1596).
To enjoy is to obey.
Loue for loue.
Post spinas palma.
All for all.
Mutual forbearance (1742).
In loues delight spend day and night.
Love’s sweetest proofe.
En bon foye.
Truth trieth troth.
Beare and forbeare.
Lett nuptiall joye our time employe.
Not this bvt me.
None can prevent the Lord’s intent.
Christ for me hath chosen thee.
By God alone we two are one.
God’s blessing be on thee and me.
Love me and be happy.
The love is true I owe you.
God did foresee we should agree.
In God and thee my joy shall be.
Absence tries love.
Virtue surpasseth riches.
Let virtue rest within thy breast.
I lyke my choyce.
As circles five by art compact shews but one ring in sight,
So trust uniteth faithful mindes with knott of secret might;
Whose force to breake no right but greedie death possesseth power,
As time and sequels well shall prove. My ringe can say no more.
(The Earl of Hertford’s wedding-ring consisted of five links, the four
inner ones containing the above posies of the Earl’s making. See page 318,
‘Betrothal and Wedding Rings.’)
Joye sans fyn. (Fourteenth century.)
In ‘Manningham’s Diary,’ 1602-1603 (Camden Society), we have the following
‘Posies for a jet ring lined with sylver’:
‘“One two,” so written as you may begin with either word. “This one ring
is two,” or both sylver and jet make but one ring; the body and soule one
man; twoe friends one mynde. “Candida mens est,” the sylver resembling the
soule, being the inner part. “Bell’ ame bell’ amy,” a fayre soule is a
fayre frend, etc. “Yet faire within.” “The firmer the better,” the sylver
the stronger and the better. “Mille modis læti miseros mors una fatigat.”’
Live as I or else I dye.
Within thy brest my harte doth rest.
(On two gold posy-rings found in Sussex, 1866.)
In 1780 the sexton of Southwell, in digging a grave, found a gold ring
weighing nine dwts. six grs. On the inside is the following inscription,
in characters very distinct, deep, and not inelegantly cut:
=+= MIEV + MOVRI + QUE + CHANGE + MA FOY +.
The cross at the beginning is of the same size as the letters, that
between the words very small.
You dear!
(The meaning is thus conjectured of, possibly, a rebus, or canting device,
on a silver signet-ring, found in the bed of the river Nene, at Wisbeach
St. Peter’s; the letter U and a deer trippant implying, perhaps, the
writer’s tender regard towards his correspondent. Date about the time of
Henry V. or Henry VI.)
The annexed engraving (from the ‘Archæological Journal,’ March, 1848)
represents a curious ring, the property of Mr. Fitch, and belonging to his
interesting cabinet of Norfolk antiquities. It is a plain hoop of silver,
of the size here seen, and bears the inscription ‘ETHRALDRIC ON LYND.’ Its
date has been assigned to as early a period as Saxon times, but we are
inclined to attribute it to a subsequent age, the twelfth, or, perhaps, so
late a date even as the thirteenth century. It may deserve notice that the
mintage of London, of coins of Canute, Harold, Edward the Confessor, the
Conqueror, and subsequent kings, is designated by the legend ‘ON LYNDE.’
This ring was found during the construction of the railway at
Attleborough, in Norfolk.
True-love knots were common formerly. In the inventory of the effects of
Henry Howard, K.G., Earl of Northampton, 1614, is mentioned ‘a golde ringe
sett with fifteene diamondes in a true lover’s knotte, with the wordes
_nec astu, nec ense_.’
In the Waterton Collection in the South Kensington Museum are some
interesting specimens of this peculiar kind of ring of English and Italian
workmanship.
At the commencement of the present century ‘Harlequin’ rings were
fashionable in England. They were so called because they were set round
with variously-coloured stones, in some way resembling the motley costume
of the hero of pantomime.
‘Regard rings,’ of French origin, were common even to a late period, and
were thus named from the initials with which they were set forming the
acrostic of these words:[72]
R uby
E merald
G arnet
A methyst
R uby
D iamond
L apis lazuli
O pal
V erd antique
E merald.
The French have precious stones for all the alphabet, excepting f, k, q,
y, and z, and they obtain the words _souvenir_ and _amitié_ thus:
S aphir or sardoine
O nyx or opale
U raine
V ermeille
E meraude
N atralithe
I ris
R ubis, or rose diamant.
A méthiste, or aigue-marine
M alachite
I ris
T urquoise or topaze
I ris
E meraude.
Thus lapis lazuli, opal, verd antique, emerald represented _love_, and for
_me_ malachite and emerald.
Names are represented on rings by the same means. The Prince of Wales, on
his marriage to the Princess Alexandra, gave her as a keeper one with the
stones set with his familiar name, Bertie–beryl, emerald, ruby,
turquoise, jacinth, emerald.
These name-rings are common in France; thus, _Adèle_ is spelt with an
amethyst, a diamond, an emerald, a lapis lazuli, and another emerald.
Among the motto or ‘reason’ rings, as they were termed, is an example,
described in the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xxxi), a weighty ring of fine gold,
found in 1823 at Thetford, in Suffolk. The device which appears upon this
ring is an eagle displayed; on the inner side is engraved a bird, with the
wings closed, apparently a falcon, with a crown upon its head.
The following posy or motto, commencing on the outer side, is continued on
the interior of the ring: ‘Deus me ouroye de vous seuir a gree–com moun
couer desire’ (God work for me to make suit acceptably to you, as my heart
desires). The devices appear to be heraldic, and the motto that of a
lover, or a suitor to one in power. The eagle is the bearing of several
ancient Suffolk families; it was also a badge of the House of Lancaster,
and Thetford was one portion of the Duchy of Lancaster.
These mottos were occasionally engraved in relief. In the Londesborough
Collection is one of gold, found in the Thames. The inscription upon it is
‘Sans vilinie’ (without baseness).
‘A very early ring,’ remarks Mr. Fairholt, ‘with an unusually pretty posy,
is in the collection of J. Evans, Esq., F.S.A. It is gold, set with a
small sapphire, and is inscribed “IE, SVI, ICI, EN LI’V D’AMI” (I am here
in place of a friend). It was probably made at the beginning of the
fourteenth century. Beside it is placed two other specimens of inscribed
rings. The first is chased with the Nortons’ motto, ‘God us ayde;’ the
second is inscribed withinside with the sentence, ‘Mulier, viro subjecta
esto.’ Both are works of the fifteenth century.
Mr. Fairholt describes two gold wedding-rings of the sixteenth century,
which were then generally inscribed with a posy of one or two lines of
rhyme. One is formed like a badge of the Order of the Garter, with the
buckle in front and the motto of the Order outside the hoop; withinside
are the words, ‘I’ll win and wear you.’ The other is the ordinary form of
wedding-ring, inscribed, ‘Let likinge laste.’ They were generally
inscribed _withinside_ the hoop. Thus Lyly, in his ‘Euphues’ (1597),
addressing the ladies, hopes they will favour his work–‘writing their
judgments as you do the posies in your rings, which are always next to the
finger, not to be seen of him that holdeth you by the hand, and yet known
by you that wear them on your hands.’
The Rev. C. W. King remarks that ‘antique intagli set in mediæval seals
have, in general, a Latin motto added around the setting. For this the
Lombard letter is almost invariably employed, seldom the black letter,
whence it may be inferred, which, indeed, was likely on other grounds,
that such seals, for the most part, came from Italy, where the Lombard
alphabet was the sole one in use until superseded by the revived Roman
capitals about the year 1450. Of such mottos a few examples will serve to
give an idea, premising that the stock was not very extensive, judging
from the frequent repetitions of the same legends, on seals of widely
different devices. Thus a very spirited intaglio of a lion passant, found
in Kent, proclaims–“SUM LEO QUOVIS EO NON NISI VERA VEHO;” another gives
the admonition to secresy–“TECTA LEGE, LECTA TEGE;” a third in the same
strain–“CLAUSA SECRETA TEGO;” another lion warns us with “IRA REGIA,” the
wrath of a king is as the roaring of a lion–an apt device for a courtier.
Less frequently seen are legends in old French, and these are more quaint
in their style; for instance, around a female bust–“PRIVÉ SUY E PEU
CONNU:” whilst a gryllus of a head, covered with a fantastic helmet made
up of masks, gives the advice, in allusion to the enigmatical type–“CREEZ
CE KE VUUS LIRREZ,” for “Croyez ce que vous lirez.”’

CHAPTER IX.CUSTOMS AND INCIDENTS IN CONNECTION WITH RINGS.
One of the most singular usages in former times in which a ring was
employed was the annual celebration at Venice of the wedding of the Doge
with the Adriatic. This custom is said to date from the era of Pope
Alexander III., and the Doge of Venice, Zidni, in the twelfth century.
This prince having on behalf of the pontiff attacked the hostile fleet of
Frederic Barbarossa, and obtained a complete victory, with the capture of
the emperor’s son, Otho, the Pope in grateful acknowledgment gave him a
ring, ordaining that henceforth and for ever, annually, the governing Doge
should, with a ring, espouse the sea. The pontiff promised that the bride
should be obedient and subject to his sway, for ever, as a wife is
subjected to her husband.
It is recorded that in this year (1177) this pompous ceremony was
performed for the first time. The Doge died in the following year. On
Ascension Day the Venetians, headed by their Doge, celebrated the
triumphant event. Galleys, sailing-vessels, and gondolas accompanied the
chief of the State, who occupied a prominent position on the ‘Bucentoro,’
which held, as its name implies, two hundred persons. This vessel was
decorated with columns, statues, etc., and the top was covered with
crimson velvet. There were twenty-one oars on each side. Musical
performers attended in another barge. The vessel left the Piazza of St.
Mark under a salute of guns, and proceeded slowly to the Isle of Lido.
Here the Doge, taking the ring from his finger, gave it to his betrothed
wife, the Adriatic, by dropping it into her bosom, repeating these words:
‘We espouse thee, oh sea! in token of our just and perpetual
dominion.’[73]
The reader will remember the well-known lines of Byron, written at Venice:
The spouseless Adriatic mourns her lord;
And, annual marriage now no more renew’d,
The Bucentaur lies rotting, unrestored,
Neglected garment of her widowhood.
It is probable that Shakspeare alluded to this custom when he says in
‘Othello:’–
I would not my unhoused free condition
Put into circumscription, and confine
For the sea’s worth.
Byron, in the ‘Two Foscari,’ again alludes to the ‘marriage’ ring of the
Doge. When the Council of Ten demanded of the Doge Foscari–
The resignation of the ducal ring,
Which he had worn so long and venerably,
he laid aside the ducal bonnet and robes, surrendered his ring of office,
and exclaimed:
There’s the ducal ring,
And there’s the ducal diadem. And so
The Adriatic’s free to wed another.
So, Rogers:
He was deposed,
He who had reigned so long and gloriously;
His ducal bonnet taken from his brow,
His robes stript off, his seal and signet-ring
Broken before him.
Rings, in common with jewels of various descriptions, were given by our
monarchs on state occasions, and as New Year’s gifts, as marks of special
favour. In Rymer’s ‘Fœdera’ there is a curious inventory of rings and
ouches, with other jewels, which King Henry VI. bestowed in 1445, as New
Year’s gifts, on his uncle and nobles. In the inventories of Queen
Elizabeth’s jewels there are numerous instances of such gifts.
At the marriage of Henry VI. with Margaret of Anjou, Cardinal Beaufort
presented a gold ring to the bride, given to him by Henry V., and which
the latter wore when crowned at Paris.
The crest of the Cromwells is a demi-lion rampant arg., in his dexter gamb
a gem-ring or. The origin of this is stated thus:–At a tournament held by
Henry VIII., in 1540, the King was particularly delighted with the
gallantry of Sir Richard Cromwell (whom he had knighted on the second day
of the tournament), and exclaiming ‘Formerly thou wast my _Dick_, but
hereafter thou shalt be my _Diamond_,’ presented him with a diamond ring,
bidding him for the future wear such a one in the fore-gamb of the
demi-lion in the crest, instead of a javelin as heretofore. The arms of
Sir Richard with this alteration were ever afterwards borne by the elder
branch of the family, and by Oliver Cromwell himself, on his assuming the
Protectorate, though previously he had borne the javelin.
A gold ring found St. Mary’s Field, near Leicester, in 1796, had been a
New Year’s gift, and is inscribed ‘en bon an.’
In former times when St. Valentine’s Day was kept as a joyous festival,
the drawing of a kind of lottery took place, followed by ceremonies not
much unlike what is now generally called the game of ‘forfeits.’ Married
and single persons were alike liable to be chosen as a valentine, and a
present was invariably given to the choosing party. Rings were frequently
bestowed. Pepys, in 1668, notes: ‘This evening my wife did with great
pleasure show me her stock of jewels, increased by the ring she hath
lately made as my valentine’s gift this year, a turkey (turquoise) stone
set with diamonds.’ Noticing also the jewels of the celebrated Miss
Stuart, he says: ‘The Duke of York, being once her valentine, did give her
a jewel of about eight hundred pounds, and my Lord Mandeville, her
valentine this year, a ring of about three hundred pounds.’
Rings have been employed frequently in facilitating diplomatic missions,
and in negotiations of a very delicate and critical nature. Plutarch
relates an anecdote of Luculus to prove his disinterestedness. Being sent
on an embassy to King Ptolemy Physcon, he not merely refused all the
splendid presents offered to him, amounting in value to eighty talents
(15,444_l._), but even received of his table allowance no more than was
absolutely necessary for his maintenance, and when the King attended him
down to his ship, as he was about to return to Rome, and pressed upon his
acceptance an emerald ‘of the precious kind,’ set in gold (for a ring),
he declined this also, until Ptolemy made him observe it was engraved with
his own portrait, whereupon, fearing his refusal should be considered a
mark of personal ill-will, he at last accepted the ring as a keepsake. At
a dark epoch in the fortunes of the unhappy Mary, Queen of Scots, when, in
1567, scarcely a shadow of regal power was left to her, an attempt was
made to induce her to resign the crown. Sir Robert Melville was employed
on this mission, giving her, as an authority for his errand, a turquoise
ring confided to him for that purpose by the confederate lords.
A ring in the possession of Miss H. P. Lonsdale is stated to have been
given by Queen Anne, from her finger, to a Mr. Nugent for some diplomatic
services. It is of gold, set with a heart-shaped ruby crowned with three
small diamonds. At the back is a royal crown, and the letters ‘A. R.’
Clement VII., to propitiate King Henry VIII., sent him a consecrated rose;
while, to gain the good services of Cardinal Wolsey, the Pope drew from
his finger a ring of value, which he entrusted to the care of Secretary
Pace at Rome, expressing regret that he could not himself present it in
person.
When the Duchess of Savoy was held a prisoner by Charles the Bold, Duke of
Burgundy, she found means to send her secretary to solicit the aid of
Louis XI. As she was prevented from writing, the only credentials she
could give her emissary was the ring the King had given her on the
occasion of her marriage. This passport would have sufficed, but that,
unfortunately, the bearer, when he presented himself to the King, wore the
cross of St. André. Louis ordered the man to be arrested, suspecting him
to be a spy of the Duke of Burgundy, and that he had stolen his sister’s
ring. The messenger would have been hung, but for the timely arrival of
the Lord of Rivarola, who was sent by the Duchess, urging the King to
assist her.
Plutarch mentions that Clearchus, Cyrus the Younger’s general, in return
for favours received from Ctesias, the physician of Tisaphernes, presented
him with his ring as an introduction to his family in Sparta.
At the declaration of peace between England and Spain in 1604 King James
gave the Spanish Ambassador, the Duke de Frias, Constable of Castile, who
negotiated the treaty, a large diamond ring, in commemoration of the
_marriage_, as he called the peace.
Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, had a large diamond cut by Berghem
into a triangle, which he had set in a ring representing two clasped
hands, the symbol of good faith, and sent to Louis XI., ‘an allusion’
(remarks the Rev. C. W. King), ‘though in an acceptable form, to his
deficiency in that virtue.’
An anecdote connected with the celebrated ‘Pitt’ diamond is related by Mr.
Eastwick, and shows how important results may sometimes be secured, when
reason and logic may not prevail. This jewel passed through some curious
adventures, and, after having ornamented the sword of Napoleon at
Waterloo, was sent as a present in a ring by George IV. to the Sovereign
of Persia, Fath-Ali-Shah. The bearer of this costly ring, Sir Harford
Jones, was stopped in his journey by a messenger from the court, and
desired not to enter the capital, where French interests were then
paramount. After Sir Harford had exhausted every argument to show that he
ought to be received, without making any impression on the Persian Khan,
he said, ‘Well, if it must be so, I shall return, but this must go with
me,’ and he took from his pocket the beautiful diamond ring which had been
sent for the Shah. The sparkle of the gem produced a magical effect; the
Khan no sooner beheld it than he lost his balance, and fell back from his
seat quite out of breath; then, recovering himself, he shouted, ‘Stop,
stop, Elchi! May your condescending kindness go on increasing! This alters
the matter. I will send an express to the heavenly-resembling threshold of
the asylum of the world! I swear by your head that you will be received
with all honour. Mashallah! it is not everyone that has diamonds like the
Inglis.’ He was as good as his word; the express courier was despatched,
and Sir Harford Jones entered the city of Teheran by one gate, while
General Gardanne, the French envoy, was packed off by the other.
[This stone must have been a fraction or portion of the cutting of this
famous diamond, as the ‘Regent’ is still in the French _Garde-meuble_, or
national treasury.]
In 1514 Venice deputed two ambassadors to France and England; amongst
other _bribes_, two rings were ordered to be given privily to the French
Secretary, Robertet, ‘as a mark of love in the Signory’s name.’ One had a
ruby and a diamond.
A correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries’ (3rd series, vol. i. p. 486) gives
an interesting extract from an old newspaper (the ‘Mercurius Publicus,’
for November 29, 1660), in which allusion is made to the King’s Gift
Rings. On the disbanding of Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper’s regiment at
Salisbury, ‘the men joyfully welcomed His Majestie’s Commissioners by
shouts and acclamations, and understanding of His Majestie’s goodness in
bestowing freely a full week’s pay, over and above their just arrears,
they broke out into another great shout, and then unanimously resolved
with that week’s pay to buy, each man, a ring, whose posie should be “The
King’s gift,” as an earnest and memorandum, to be ready on all occasions
when His Majesty’s service (and none but his), should call them.’
I may mention the gift of rings to the native chiefs of India by the
Prince of Wales, during his recent progress in that country. At Aden the
Prince expressed his acknowledgments, on behalf of the Queen, for the
services rendered by the Sultan of Lahej to the garrison of Aden, and put
a massive gold ring with the initials ‘A. E.’ on the Sultan’s finger with
his own hand.
The Maharajah of Benares was presented with a ring having an oval
miniature portrait of the Prince, in enamel, set in brilliants.
Identification by means of a ring is alluded to in the Greek romance, by
Heliodorus, of ‘Theagines and Chariclea.’ The latter, through a ring and
fillet which had been attached to her at her birth, is, after many
adventures, discovered to be the daughter of Hydaspes, and becomes heiress
of the Ethiopian sovereignty. The modern Italian poets have availed
themselves of this incident.
Roger of Wendover relates how Richard Cœur de Lion, when returning from
the Crusades, secretly, and in disguise, through Germany to his own
country, was identified in a town of Slavonia, called Gazara, by means of
a ring. The King had sent a messenger to the nearest castle to ask for
peace and safe-conduct from the lord of that province. He had on his
return purchased of a Pisan merchant for nine hundred bezants, three
jewels called carbuncles, or more commonly ‘rubies.’ One of these he had,
whilst on board ship, enclosed in a gold ring, and this he sent by the
said messenger to the governor of the castle. When the messenger was asked
by the governor who they were that requested safe conduct, he answered
that they were pilgrims returning from Jerusalem. The governor then asked
what their names were, to which the messenger replied, ‘one of them is
called Baldwin de Bethune, the other Hugh, a merchant who has also sent
you a ring.’ The lord of the castle, looking more attentively at the ring,
said, ‘He is not called Hugh, but King Richard,’ and then added, ‘although
I have sworn to seize all pilgrims coming from those parts, and not to
accept of any gift from them, nevertheless, for the worthiness of the
gift, and also of the sender, to him who has so honoured me, a stranger to
him, I both return his present and grant him free permission to depart.’
A ring, in all probability, saved the Emperor Charles V. from the most
critical position in which he had ever been placed. Having requested
permission of Francis I. to pass through France, in order to reach sooner
his Flemish dominions, where his presence was urgently required, the
rival, so lately his prisoner, not only granted the request, but gave him
a most brilliant reception. Some of the French King’s counsellors thought
this generous conduct to a crafty foe was quixotic in the extreme, and
that Charles should be detained until he had cancelled some of the hard
conditions, to which he had compelled Francis to subscribe to purchase his
release. Among those who strongly advocated the policy of detaining the
imperial guest was the King’s fair friend, the Duchesse d’Estampes.
Charles, who was informed of the dangerous weight thrown in the scale
against him, resolved to win over the influential counsellor. One day, as
he was washing his hands before dinner, he dropped a diamond ring of great
value, which the Duchess picked up and presented to him. ‘Nay, madam,’
said the Emperor gallantly to her, ‘it is in too fair a hand for me to
take back.’ The gift had its full value, and Charles pursued his way
without molestation.
Instances are recorded in which the wearing of a ring has been the means
of saving life. Such happened to the Count de St. Pol at the battle of
Pavia. He had fallen covered with wounds; avarice recalled him to life. A
soldier, seeking for pillage, arrived at the place where the unfortunate
Count lay extended, senseless, among the dead. He perceived a very
beautiful diamond glitter on the finger of the apparently lifeless man.
Not being successful in drawing the ring off, he began to cut the finger.
The pain extorted a piercing cry from the Count, who had only swooned. He
mentioned his name, and had the presence of mind to recommend silence to
the soldier, telling him that if he boasted of having in his power a
prince of the house of France, the Emperor’s generals would take him into
their own hands in order to get his ransom; and he promised to make the
soldier’s fortune if he would take care of his wounds, and follow him to
France. This reasoning had its effect; the soldier secretly conveyed the
Prince to Pavia, had his wounds dressed, and was nobly rewarded for it.
Taylor, in his ‘Danger of Premature Interments’ (1816) relates the
following incident. The heroine of this event was named Retchmuth Adolet.
She was the wife of a merchant at Cologne, and is said to have died of the
plague, which destroyed a great part of the inhabitants of that city in
1571. She was speedily interred, and a ring of great value was suffered to
remain on her finger, which tempted the cupidity of the grave-digger. The
night was the time he had planned for obtaining possession of it. On going
to the grave, opening it, and attempting to take the ring from off the
finger of the lady, she came to herself, and so terrified the sacrilegious
thief, that he ran away and left his lantern behind him. The lady took
advantage of his fright, and with the assistance of his lantern, found her
way home, and lived to be the mother of three children. After her real
decease, she was buried near the door of the same church, and a tomb was
erected over her grave, upon which the incident related was engraved.
Mrs. Bray, in a notice of ‘Cotele,’ and ‘the Edgcumbes of the Olden Time’
(‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ November 1853), relates a singular circumstance
of this character, which ‘is so well authenticated, that not even a doubt
rests upon its truth.’ It refers to the mother of that Sir Richard
Edgcumbe, Knight, who, in 1748, was created Baron of Mount Edgcumbe.
‘The family were residing at Cotele (I do not know the date of the year),
when Lady Edgcumbe became much indisposed, and to all appearance died. How
long after is not stated, but her body was deposited in the family vault
of the parish church. The interment had not long taken place, before the
sexton (who must have heard from the nurse or servants that she was buried
with something of value upon her) went down into the vault at midnight,
and contrived to force open the coffin. A gold ring was on her ladyship’s
finger, which in a hurried way he attempted to draw off, but, not readily
succeeding, he pressed with great violence the finger. Upon this the body
moved in the coffin, and such was the terror of the man, that he ran away
as fast as he could, leaving his lantern behind him. Lady Edgcumbe arose,
astonished at finding herself dressed in grave-clothes, and numbered with
the tenants of the vault. She took up the lantern, and proceeded at once
to the mansion of Cotele. The terror, followed by the rejoicing of her
family and household, which such a resurrection from the tomb occasioned,
may well be conceived. Exactly five years after this circumstance, she
became the mother of that Sir Richard Edgcumbe, who was created Baron.
Polwhele, in his “History of Cornwall,” says: “Of the authenticity of this
event there can be no reasonable doubt. A few years ago a gentleman of my
acquaintance heard all the particulars of the transaction from the late
Lord Graves, of Thancks, which is in the neighbourhood of Cotele. But I
need not appeal to Lord Graves’s authority, as I recollect the narrative
as coming from the lips of my grandmother Polwhele, who used to render the
story extremely interesting from a variety of minute circumstances, and
who, from her connexion and intimacy of her own with the Edgcumbe family,
was unquestionably well-informed on the subject.”
‘It may seem strange that when Lady Edgcumbe was thus committed to the
grave she was not buried in lead; but at the period of her supposed death
it was very unusual to bury persons, even of high rank and station, in a
leaden coffin, if they died and were buried in the country. The nearest
town to Cotele of any note was Plymouth, a seaport to which there was then
no regular road from the far-distant old mansion, and I question if at
that period Plymouth could have furnished such an unusual thing as a lead
coffin. Lady Edgcumbe was probably buried in oak secured by nails or
screws, which without much difficulty could be forced open by the sexton
in his meditated robbery of the body.’
While rings have favoured the living, they have also been the means of
recognising the dead. An instance of this is related in the history of the
great Duke of Burgundy, renowned for the splendour of his court and his
love of jewels. He died in the battle of Nanci, and his body was not found
until three days afterwards, when it was recognised by one of the Duke’s
household by a ring and other precious jewels upon it; otherwise the
corpse was so disfigured that it could not have been identified.
The body of the great naval commander Sir Cloudesley Shovel, who was
shipwrecked on the rocks of Scilly in 1707, was washed on shore, when some
fishermen, it is said, having stolen a valuable emerald ring, buried the
corpse. The ring, being shown about, made a great noise over the island,
and was the cause of the discovery and ultimate removal of the body to
Westminster Abbey.
Another account is that which was published under the authority of the
Earl of Romney, grandson of Sir Cloudesley Shovel. Some years after the
fatal shipwreck, an aged woman confessed to the parish minister of St.
Mary’s on her deathbed that, exhausted with fatigue, one man who had
survived the disaster reached her hut, and that she had murdered him to
secure the valuable property on his person. This worst of wreckers then
produced a ring taken from the finger of her victim, and it was afterwards
identified as one presented to Sir Cloudesley Shovel by Lord Berkeley.
William Trotter, of an ancient family on the Scottish border, is recorded
to have fallen at the battle of Flodden; and, in corroboration of the
fact, a gold ring was found about the middle of the last century, upon
the site of the field of battle, bearing an inscription in Norman-French,
having between each word a boar’s head, the armorial bearings of the
Trotters.
Martius, in ‘Titus Andronicus,’ when he falls into a dark pit, discovers
the body of Bassianus, by the light of the jewel on the dead man’s hand:–
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring, that lightens all the hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks,
And shows the rugged entrails of this pit:
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus,
When he by night lay bath’d in human blood.
I may mention the employment of rings for criminal purposes, such as their
use for concealing poison, of which we have instances in past ages, and in
late times. Hannibal, we are told, from a fear of being delivered up to
the Romans by Prusius, King of Bithynia, swallowed poison, which, to be
prepared for the worst, he carried with him in the hollow of a ring. To
this Juvenal alludes in his Tenth Satire:–
Nor swords, nor spears, nor stones from engines hurl’d,
Shall quell the man whose frown alarm’d the world;
The vengeance due to Cannæ’s fatal field,
And floods of human gore–a ring shall yield.
Demosthenes is also said to have died in a similar manner. The keeper of
the Roman treasures, after the robbery by Crassus of the gold deposited
there by Camillus, broke the stone of his ring in his mouth, in which
poison was concealed, and immediately expired.
‘The ancients,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King (‘Antique Gems’), ‘were
acquainted with vegetable poisons, as speedy in their effects as the
modern strychnine, as appears in the death of Britannicus from a potion
prepared by Locusta, and in innumerable other instances. These hollow
rings were put together with a degree of skill far beyond that of our
modern jewellers; for the soldering of the numerous joinings of the gold
plates of which they are formed is absolutely imperceptible even when
breathed upon–a test under which the best modern solder always assumes a
lighter tint.’
Motley, in his ‘Rise of the Dutch Republic,’ relates that in the
conspiracies against the life of the Prince of Orange (about 1582), under
the influence of the court of Spain, the young Lamoral Egmont, in return
for the kindness shown to him by the Prince, attempted to destroy him at
his own table by means of poison which he kept concealed in a ring. Sainte
Philip de Marnix, Lord of Aldegonde, was to have been taken off in the
same way; and a hollow ring filled with poison was said to have been found
in Egmont’s lodgings. The young noble was imprisoned, and his guilt was
undoubted, but he owed his escape from death to the Prince of Orange.
A poison ring of curious construction is described by Mr. Fairholt as
richly engraved, and set with two rubies and a pyramidal diamond; the
collet securing the latter stone opens with a spring, and exhibits a
somewhat large receptacle for such virulent poisons as were concocted by
Italian chemists in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
The other ring has a representation of St. Mark seated holding his gospel,
and giving a benediction. The spaces between this figure and the oval
border are perforated, so that the interior of the box is visible, and the
relic enshrined might be seen.
It is recorded of the infamous Pope Alexander VI. (Borgia) that he caused
a key, similar to the key-ring, to be used in opening a cabinet, but the
Pope’s key was poisoned in the handle, and provided with a small sharp
pin, which gave a slight puncture, sufficient to allow the poison to pass
below the skin. When he wished to rid himself of an objectionable friend
he would request him to unlock the cabinet; as the lock turned rather
stiffly, a little pressure was necessary on the key handle, sufficient to
produce the effect desired.
The signet-ring of Cæsar Borgia was exhibited a few years ago at a meeting
of the British Archæological Association by the Rev. C. H. Hartshorne. It
is of gold, slightly enamelled, with the date 1503, and round the inside
is the motto, ‘Fays ceque doys avien que pourra.’ A box dropped into the
front, having on it ‘Borgia,’ in letters reversed, round which are the
words ‘Cor unum una via.’ At the back is a slide, within which, it is
related, he carried the poison he was in the habit of dropping into the
wine of his unsuspecting guests.
Another ring-device of Cæsar Borgia was: ‘Aut Cæsar aut nihil.’ The
following distich was made upon him:–
Borgia Cæsar erat factis et nomine Cæsar;
‘Aut nihil aut Cæsar’ dixit, utrumque fuit.
In late times the death of Condorcet was occasioned by a subtle poison,
made by Cabanis, and enclosed in a ring. The particulars of this tragedy
are related by Arago. Proscribed by the Revolution of 1792, Condorcet,
formerly secretary to the Academy of Sciences, took refuge in the house of
a Madame Vernet, at Paris, a lady who generously risked her own life in
endeavouring to save that of the eminent philosopher. Fearing to
compromise his protectress by a longer stay, Condorcet left Paris with the
intention of taking refuge in the country house of an old friend, who was,
however, absent, and he wandered about, taking shelter at night in some
stone-quarries, but was at length arrested, and conducted to
Bourg-la-Reine, where he was placed in a damp cell. The next morning
(March 28, 1794) he was found dead in his prison, having taken poison,
which he carried about with him in a ring.
A singular story of a poisoned ring appeared in the French newspapers a
few years ago, to the effect that a gentleman who had purchased some
objects of art at a shop in the Rue St. Honoré, was examining an ancient
ring, when he gave himself a slight scratch in the hand with a sharp part
of it. He continued talking to the dealer a short time, when he suddenly
felt an indescribable sensation over his whole body, which appeared to
paralyse his faculties, and he became so seriously ill that it was found
necessary to send for a medical man. The doctor immediately discovered
every symptom of poisoning by some mineral substance. He applied strong
antidotes, and in a short time the gentleman was in a measure recovered.
The ring in question having been examined by the medical man, who had long
resided in Venice, was found to be what was formerly called a ‘death’
ring, in use by Italians when acts of poisoning were frequent about the
middle of the seventeenth century. Attached to it inside were two claws
of a lion made of the sharpest steel, and having clefts in them filled
with a violent poison. In a crowded assembly, or in a ball, the wearer of
this fatal ring, wishing to exercise revenge on any person, would take
their hand, and when pressing in the sharp claw, would be sure to inflict
a slight scratch on the skin. This was enough, for on the following
morning the victim would be sure to be found dead. Notwithstanding the
many years since which the poison in this ring had been placed there, it
retained its strength sufficiently to cause great inconvenience to the
gentleman as stated.
A singular interest is attached to the recovery of lost rings, of which
there are many instances. One is recorded in connection with the
wonder-working hand of St. Stephen of Hungary, which is now in the castle
of Buda. In 1621, Pope Gregory canonised this monarch, after a lapse of
two hundred years that his remains had been lying in the cathedral of
Stuhlweissenberg, and on their removal it was discovered that the skeleton
had no right hand. This created much stir, as it was known that a very
valuable ring had been on one of the fingers, but no tidings of the
missing member were heard until some years after, when a certain abbot
Mercurius, who had formerly been treasurer to the cathedral, had an
interview with the reigning monarch Ladislaus. The story he told was a
rich one, the hand with the ring on it had been committed to his safe
keeping by a beautiful youth, ‘dressed all in white.’ The historian
Feesler, himself an ecclesiastic, says that ‘Ladislaus saw through
Mercurius, but left God to deal with him.’ In the chapter on ‘Ring
Superstitions’ I have mentioned the discovery of Lady Dundee’s ring, and
the omen attached to it.
The late Professor De Morgan, in ‘Notes and Queries’ (December 21, 1861),
related an instance of a recovered ring, which (although not vouching for
its truth) he states as having been commented upon nearly fifty years ago
in the country town close to which the scene is placed, with all degrees
of belief and unbelief. A servant-boy was sent into the town with a
valuable ring. He took it out of the box to admire it, and in passing over
a plank bridge he let it fall on a muddy bank. Not being able to find it
he ran away, took to the sea, and finally settled in a colony, made a
large fortune, came back after many years, and bought the estate on which
he had been a servant. One day, while walking over his land with a friend,
he came to the plank bridge, and there told his friend the story. ‘I could
swear,’ he said, pushing his stick into the mud, ‘to the very spot where
the ring was dropped:’ when the stick came back the ring was on the end of
it.
A large silver signet-ring was lost by a Mr. Murray, in Caithness, as he
was walking one day on a shingly beach bounding his estate. Fully a
century afterwards it was found in the shingle in fair condition, and
restored to Mr. Murray’s remote heir, Sir Peter Murray Thrieplund, of
Fingask.
The truth of a similarly recovered ring I am able to attest from my
acquaintance with the late Mrs. Drake, of Pilton, near Barnstaple, to
whose family the incident refers. The husband of this lady, while with her
in a boat off Ilfracombe about fifteen years ago, lost a valuable ring. Of
course no hopes were ever entertained of its recovery. In 1869, however,
the ring was picked up on the beach at Lee, near Ilfracombe, by a little
child who was living in the valley. The ring was readily identified, as it
bore the inscription: ‘John, Lord Rollo, born Oct. 16, 1751, died April
3, 1842.’
In the bed of the river in the parish of Fornham St. Martin, in Suffolk,
was found, some years since, a gold ring with a ruby, late in the
possession of Charles Blomfield, Esq., which is conjectured by some to be
the ring that the Countess of Leicester is related (by Matthew Paris) to
have thrown away in her flight after the battle of Fornham St. Genevieve,
October 16, 1173. The Earl and Countess of Leicester were taken prisoners
at this battle.
A matron of East Lulworth lost her ring one day: two years afterwards she
was peeling some potatoes brought from a field half-a-mile distant from
the cottage, and upon dividing one discovered her ring inside.
A Mrs. Mountjoy, of Brechin, when feeding a calf, let it suck her fingers,
and on withdrawing her hand found that her ring had disappeared. Believing
the calf was the innocent thief, she refused to part with it, and after
keeping the animal for three years, had it slaughtered, and the ring was
found in the intestines.
A wealthy German farmer, living near Nordanhamn, was making flour-balls in
1871 for his cattle. At the end of his work he missed his ring, bearing
his wife’s name. Soon afterwards the farmer sold seven bullocks, which the
purchaser shipped to England, on board the ‘Adler’ cattle-steamer on
October 26. Two days afterwards an English smack, the ‘Mary Ann’ of
Colchester, picked up at sea the still warm carcass of a bullock, which
was opened by the crew to obtain some fat for greasing the rigging. Inside
the animal they found a gold ring inscribed with the woman’s name and the
date 1860. Captain Tye reported the circumstance as soon as he arrived in
port, and handed the ring over to an official, who sent it up to London.
The authorities set to work to trace its ownership, and found that the
only ship reporting the loss of a beast that could have passed the ‘Mary
Ann’ was the steamer ‘Adler,’ from which a bullock supposed to be dead,
had been thrown overboard on October 28. Meanwhile, the ‘Shipping Gazette’
recording the finding of the ring had reached Nordanhamn, and one of its
readers there had recognised the name inscribed upon it; communications
were opened with the farmer, and in due time he repossessed his ring.
In the chapter on ‘Ring Superstitions’ allusion is made to the marvellous
stories of rings found in the bodies of fishes. An instance, however, of
this character was mentioned in the newspapers lately, as having occurred
at St. John’s, Newfoundland. It is said that a signet-ring bearing the
monogram ‘P.B.’ was discovered by a fisherman in the entrails of a
cod-fish caught in Trinity Bay. The fisherman, John Potter, kept the prize
in his possession for some time, but, the incident getting known, he was
requested by the colonial secretary to send or bring the ring to St.
John’s, as he had received letters from a family named Burnam, of Poole,
England, stating that they had reason to feel certain that the ring once
belonged to Pauline Burnam, who was one of the several hundred passengers
of the Allan steamship ‘Anglo-Saxon,’ which was wrecked off Chance Bay
(N.F.) in 1861, the said Pauline Burnam being a relative of theirs. The
fisherman, in whose possession the ring was, brought it to St. John’s, and
presented it at the colonial secretary’s office. After a brief delay he
was introduced to a Mr. Burnam, who at once identified the object as the
wedding-ring of his mother, and which she had always worn since her
marriage at Huddersfield, in the year 1846. The ring was accordingly
given up to Mr. Burnam, who rewarded the fortunate finder with fifty
pounds.
On October 7, 1868, some fishermen, throwing their nets in the Volga,
captured a sturgeon, which was found to be the same as that which his
Imperial Highness the heir-presumptive of the Russian crown had accepted
as an offering in 1866 from the municipality of Nijni. At the desire of
the Prince the fish was restored to the sea. Its identity was proved by a
silver ring attached to the right gill of the fish, on which was inscribed
the date, Aug. 27, 1866. Another similar ring, which had been attached to
the left gill, had disappeared.
It is to be presumed that the sturgeon was returned to the water with some
mark to indicate the period at which it was re-captured. Some time after
this occurrence a similar case occurred in the Volga, when another
sturgeon, which had been offered as a present to the late Emperor
Nicholas, and had been recommitted to its native element, was taken alive,
and recognised by the rings attached to it.
The French newspapers of May 1873 announced that at one of the principal
_restaurants_ in Paris, a valuable diamond ring was found in the stomach
of a salmon purchased at the central markets.
In the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ (January 1765), is the account of a Mrs.
Todd, of Deptford, who, in going in a boat to Whitstable, endeavoured to
prove that no person need be poor who was willing to be otherwise; and
being excited with her argument, took off her gold ring, and, throwing it
out into the sea, said ‘it was as much impossible for any person to be
poor who had an inclination to be otherwise, as for her ever to see that
ring again.’ The second day after this, and when she had landed, she
bought some mackerel, which the servant commenced to dress for dinner,
whereupon there was found a gold ring in one. The servant ran to show it
to her mistress, and the ring proved to be that which she had thrown away.
Brand, in his ‘History of Newcastle,’ relates that a gentleman of that
city, in the middle of the seventeenth century, dropped a ring from his
hand over the bridge into the River Tyne. Years passed on, when one day
his wife bought a fish in the market, and the ring was discovered in its
stomach.
A correspondent to ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. i. series 3, p. 36), relates
the following curious anecdote: ‘A gentleman, who was in the habit of
frequenting a favourite spot for the sake of a view that interested him,
used to lounge on a rail, and one day in a fit of absence of mind got
fumbling about the post in which one end of the rail was inserted. On his
way home he missed a valuable ring; he went back again and looked
diligently for it but without success. A considerable time afterwards in
visiting his old haunt, and indulging in his usual fit of absence, he was
very agreeably surprised to find the ring on his finger again, and which
appears to have been occasioned by (in both instances), his pressing his
finger in the aperture of the post, which just fitted sufficiently with a
pressure to hold the ring. I afterwards tried the experiment at the spot,
and found it perfectly easy to have been effected with an easily fitting
ring.’
A curious antique ring, discovered in 1867 near the site of the Priory of
St. Mary, Pilton, near Barnstaple, was exhibited by Mr. Chanter, the
owner, at the Exeter Meeting of the Royal Archæological Institute (July
1873). The ring is of pure gold, weighing 131 grains, a large egg-shaped
sapphire being in the middle, in a solid oval setting. The stone had a
hole drilled through the lower edge, through which a gold stud was passed,
but it did not extend through the gold setting. The stone had been
evidently flawed by the operation. The ring was intended for the thumb,
and for ecclesiastical use, dating from about 1100 or 1200. A singularity
is attached to the discovery. Some men were engaged in hedging, when they
had to cut down some old trees. After cutting down one, they found the
‘moot’ of another underneath, and right in the centre of the latter was a
round ball eight or ten inches in diameter, which the men took at first to
be a cannon-ball. On opening the clay, however, the ring, bright and
perfect, was exposed in the centre. A theory to account for this
remarkable discovery is that the ring might have been stolen and buried by
the thief for concealment under the tree in a ball of clay. For some
reason or other the ring was left there, and in the course of time another
tree grew over the old one.
Among the singular _discoveries_ of rings, I may mention the
following:–In 1697 a woman was drowned for theft, in the Loch of Spynie,
in Morayshire, and in 1811 the skeleton was brought to light, with a ring
on its finger. In 1862, during some discoveries made at Pompeii, a body
was too far decayed to be touched, but liquid plaster of Paris was poured
upon it, and a cast was taken, so accurately done that a ring was found on
the finger. In the excavation of an Anglo-Saxon burial-place at Harnham
Hill, near Salisbury, a silver twisted ring was found on the middle
finger-bone of a skeleton. In some sepulchral objects from Italy, Styria,
and Mecklenburg, obtained by the late J. M. Kemble, Esq., was a
finger-ring of bronze, in which the bone still lay. The Abbé Cochet, the
indefatigable Norman explorer, mentions this as of usual occurrence. ‘Au
doigt de la main sont les bagues, ou des anneaux d’or, d’argent, de
cuivre, ou de bronze. Quelques unes de ces bagues sont unies; mais
d’autres ont des chatons en agate, en verroterie rouge ou vert, ou des
croix encaustées sur métal. Communement, elles sont encore passées au
doigt que les porta, dont la phalange est tout verdie par l’oxyde du
bronze’ (‘La Normandie Souterraine,’ p. 29).
In Moore’s ‘Life of Byron’ we have an instance of a lost ring recovered
under peculiarly interesting circumstances: ‘On the day of the arrival of
the lady’s (Miss Millbanke) answer, he (Lord Byron) was sitting down to
dinner, when his gardener came in, and presented him with his mother’s
wedding-ring, which she had lost many years before, and which the gardener
had just found in digging up the mould under her window. Almost at the
same moment, the letter from Miss Millbanke arrived, and Lord Byron
exclaimed, “If it contains a consent, I will be married with this very
ring.” It _did_ contain a very flattering acceptance of his proposal (of
marriage), and a duplicate of the letter had been sent to London, in case
this should have missed him.’
Among the numerous applications of rings to various purposes, one of the
most curious is the custom, once prevalent in the Isle of Man, that if a
man grossly insulted a married woman he was to suffer death, but if the
woman was unmarried the Deemster, or judge, gave her a rope, a sword, and
a ring, and she had it put to her choice either to hang him with the rope,
or to cut off his head with the sword, or to marry him with the ring.
In one of Robin Hood’s ballads we find that a ring was part of a prize for
archery:–
A greate courser, with saddle and brydle,
With gold burnished full bright;
A paire of gloves, a red golde ring,
A pipe of wyne, good fay.
What man berest him best, I wist,
The prize shall bear away.
Rings were proffered as bribes: in the old legend of King Estmere, the
porter of King Adlan’s hall is bribed by that monarch and his brother,
disguised as harpers, to admit them:–
Then they pulled out a ryng of gold,
Layd itt on the porter’s arme,
‘And ever we will thee, proud porter,
Thou wilt saye us no harme.’
Sore he looked on King Estmère,
And sore he handled the ryng,
Then opened to them the fayre hall gates,
He lett for no kind of thyng.
The lady, King Adlan’s daughter, for whose sake the ring is given, is thus
described:–
The talents of gold were on her head sette,
Hanged low down to her knee;
And everye ring on her small fingèr
Shone of the chrystall free.
In the romance of ‘Earl Richard,’ we have another instance of a ring fee,
or bribe, to a porter:–
She took a ring from her finger
And gave’t the porter for his fee,
Says, ‘tak you that, my good porter,
And bid the queen speak to me.’
In the capital ballad of the ‘Baffled Knight,’ or ‘Lady’s Policy,’ the
latter in answer to the overtures of her drunken wooer says:–
Oh, yonder stands my steed so free,
Among the cocks of hay, sir;
And if the pinner should chance to see
He’ll take my steed away, sir.
The Knight rejoins:–
Upon my finger I have a ring,
It’s made of finest gold-a,
And, lady, it thy steed shall bring
Out of the pinner’s fold-a.
Miller, in his ‘History of the Anglo-Saxons,’ relates a pretty story of a
‘bribe’ ring, an episode in the battles between Edmund Ironside and
Canute. It was on the eve of one of these conflicts that a Danish chief,
named Ulfr, being hotly pursued by the Saxons, rushed into a wood, in the
hurry of defeat, and lost his way. After wandering about some time, he met
a Saxon peasant, who was driving home his oxen. The Danish chief asked his
name. ‘It is Godwin,’ answered the peasant; ‘and you are one of the Danes
who were compelled yesterday to fly for your life.’ The sea-king
acknowledged it was true, and asked the herdsman if he could guide him
either to the Danish ships, or where the army was encamped. ‘The Dane must
be mad,’ answered Godwin, ‘who trusts to a Saxon for safety.’ Ulfr
entreated this rude Gurth of the forest to point him out the way, at the
same time urging his argument by presenting the herdsman with a massive
gold ring, to win his favour. Godwin looked at the ring, and after having
carefully examined it he again placed it in the hand of the sea-king, and
said: ‘I will not take this, but will show you the way.’ Ulfr spent the
day at the herdsman’s cottage; night came, and found Godwin in readiness
to be his guide. The herdsman had an aged father, who, before he permitted
his son to depart, thus addressed the Danish chief: ‘It is my only son
whom I allow to accompany you; to your good faith I entrust him, for
remember that, there will no longer be any safety for him amongst his
countrymen if it is once known that he has been your guide. Present him to
your King, and entreat him to take my son into his service.’ Ulfr
promised, and he kept his word. The humble cowherd, who afterwards married
the sea-king’s sister, became the powerful Earl Godwin, of historic
celebrity.
In former times rings denoted quality, if we may judge from the
expressions in an old play (‘First Part of the Contention: York and
Lancaster;’ Shakspeare Society):–
I am a gentleman, looke on my ring,
Ransome me at what thou wilt, it shall be paid.
In the popular German ballad of ‘Anneli,’ or the ‘Anneli Lied,’ translated
by Mr. J. H. Dixon (‘Notes and Queries,’ 3rd series, vol. ix.), the
maiden, whose lover is drowned in the lake while swimming, is in a boat
with a fisherman who recovers the body, which she places on her lap:–
And she kiss’d his mouth, and he seem’d to smile,
‘Oh, no, I will not repine,
For God in heaven hath granted him
A happier home than mine.’
And she chaf’d in hers his clammy hands–
Ah! what does the maiden see?
There was a bridal-ring for one
Was never a bride to be.
She drew from his finger that posied ring,
‘Fisherman–lo! thy fee!’
And clasping him round and round she plunged,
And scream’d with a maniac glee–
‘No other young man in Argovie
Shall drown for the love of me!’
Mr. R. S. Ralston, M.A., in his ‘Songs of the Russians,’ mentions an
interesting custom in connection with rings: ‘Among the games is that
called the “Burial of the Gold.” A number of girls form a circle, and pass
from hand to hand a gold ring, which a girl who stands inside the circle
tries to detect. Meanwhile they sing in chorus the following verses:–
See here, gold I bury, I bury;
Silver pure I bury, bury;
In the rooms, the rooms of my father,
Rooms so high, so high, of my mother.
Guess, O maiden, find out, pretty one,
Whose hand is holding
The wings of the serpent.
The girl in the middle replies:–
Gladly would I have guessed,
Had I but known, or had seen,–
Crossing over the plain,
Plaiting the ruddy brown hair,
Weaving with silk in and out
Interlacing with gold.
O, my friends, dear companions,
Tell the truth, do not conceal it,
Give, oh give me back my gold!
My mother will beat me
For three days, for four;
With three rods of gold,
With a fourth rod of pearl.
The chorus breaks in, singing:–
The ring has fallen, has fallen
Among the guelders and raspberries,
Among the black currants.
Disappeared has our gold,
Hidden amid the mere dust,
Grown all over with moss.’
In Warner’s ‘History of Ireland’ (vol. i. book 10) is the following ring
anecdote: ‘The people were inspired with such a spirit of honour, virtue,
and religion, by the great example of Brien, and by his excellent
administration, that, as a proof of it, we are informed that a young lady
of great beauty, adorned with jewels and a costly dress, undertook to
journey alone from one end of the kingdom to the other, with a wand only
in her hand, on the top of which was a ring of exceeding great value; and
such an impression had the laws and government of this monarch made on the
minds of all the people that no attempt was made on her honour, nor was
she robbed of her clothes or jewels.’
This forms the subject of one of the sweetest melodies of Moore:–
Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore;
But oh! her beauty was far beyond
Her sparkling gems and snow-white wand.
Janus Nicius Crytræus relates that a certain pope had a tame raven, which
secreted the pope’s ring, or _annulus Piscatoris_. The pope, thinking that
some one had committed the robbery, issued a bull of excommunication
against the robber. The raven grew very thin, and lost all his plumage. On
the ring being found, and the excommunication taken off, the raven
recovered his flesh and his plumage.
Upon this story was founded the admirable Ingoldsby legend of the ‘Jackdaw
of Rheims.’
During the great war of liberation in Germany, the ladies deposited in
the public treasury their jewels and ornaments to be sold for the national
cause, and they each received in turn an iron ring inscribed ‘Ich gab Gold
am Eisen’ (I gave gold for iron). Russell, who mentions this in his ‘Tour
in Germany,’ 1813, adds:–‘A Prussian dame is as proud, and justly proud,
of this coarse decoration as her husband and her son is of his iron
cross.’
A singular mode of securing a ring on the finger is mentioned by a
correspondent to ‘Notes and Queries’ (4th Series, vol. vi. p. 323): ‘In
the possession of a lady relative of mine is an old painting in oils,
representing Sir William Segar, Principal King-at-Arms to James I. (1604),
and his wife. They stand side by side, and are three-quarter portraits of
life size. On the fourth finger of Lady Segar’s right hand is a jewelled
ring, to which are attached several black strings, curiously joined at the
back of the hand, and fastened round the wrist.’
A curious and tragical incident in connection with a ring is related in
the ‘Lives of the Lindsays.’ The young Colin, Earl of Balcarres, was
obtaining for his bride a young Dutch lady, Mauritia de Nassau, daughter
of a natural son of Maurice, Prince of Orange. The day arrived for the
wedding, the noble party were assembled in the church, and the bride was
at the altar; but, to the dismay of the company, no bridegroom appeared.
The volatile Colin had forgotten the day of his marriage, and was
discovered in his night-gown and slippers, quietly eating his breakfast.
He hurried to the church, but in his haste left the ring in his
writing-case; a friend in the company gave him one; the ceremony went on,
and, without looking at it, he placed it on the finger of the bride. It
was a _mourning_ ring, with the death’s-head and cross-bones. On
perceiving it at the close of the ceremony she fainted away, and the evil
omen had made such an impression on her mind that, on recovering, she
declared she should die within the year, and her presentiment was too
truly fulfilled.
Louis de Berquem, of Bruges, to whom is ascribed the art of cutting and
polishing the diamond, made his first attempts in 1475, upon three rough
and large diamonds, confided to him for that purpose by Charles the Rash,
Duke of Burgundy. One of these was cut in a triangular shape, and mounted
on a ring, on which were figured two hands, as a symbol of alliance and
good faith, and was presented to Louis XI., King of France.
Mr. Howitt, in his additions to the ‘History of Magic’ of Ennemoser,
remarks: ‘In the St. Vitus’s dance patients often experience divinatory
visions of a fugitive nature, either referring to themselves or to others,
and occasionally in symbolic words. In the “Leaves from Prevorst,” such
symbolic somnambulism is related, and I myself have observed a very
similar case: Miss V. Brand, during a violent paroxysm of St. Vitus’s
dance, suddenly saw a black evil-boding crow fly into the room, from
which, she said, she was unable to protect herself, as it unceasingly flew
round her, as if it wished to make some communication. This appearance was
of daily occurrence with the paroxysm for eight days afterwards. On the
ninth, when the attacks had become less violent, the vision commenced with
the appearance of a white dove, which carried a letter containing a
betrothal ring in its beak; shortly afterwards the crow flew in with a
black-sealed letter. The next morning the post brought a letter with
betrothal cards from a cousin, and a few hours after the news was received
of the death of her aunt at Lohburg, of whose illness she was ignorant. Of
both these letters, which two different posts brought in on the same day,
Miss V. Brand could not possibly have known anything. The change of birds
and their colours during her recovery, and before the announcement of
agreeable or sorrowful news, the symbols of the ring and the black seal
exhibit in this vision a particularly pure expression of the soul, as well
as a correct view into the future.’
A French MS. of the thirteenth century gives the earliest version hitherto
discovered of the fable of the three rings, known by the story in
Boccaccio’s ‘Decamerone,’ and by Lessing’s ‘Nathan.’ From these, however,
it differs essentially. In the present version the true ring is found out
after the father’s death, while Boccaccio and Lessing tell the contrary.
Of course the allegorical meaning of the true ring is the Christian faith,
and the two false are the Mohammedan and the Judaic faith. The Mohammedan
faith is considered the oldest because it represents the pagan faith in
general.
Among the singular uses to which rings have been applied, I may mention
what were called ‘meridian.’ These were various kinds of astronomical
rings formerly in use, but now superseded by more exact instruments. In
the French ‘Encyclopédie’ (Diderot and D’Alembert) will be found an
account of the ‘solar’ ring (_anneau solaire_), which showed the hour by
means of a small perforation, ‘un trou, par lequel on fait passer un
rayon de soleil.’ Zeller also describes a kind of sun-dial in the form of
a ring. This was called the astronomical ring, ‘annulus astronomicus.’[74]
The Rev. Danson R. Currer has a _brass_ ring-dial, probably of the kind
formerly designated as ‘journey rings.’
Mr. Edward Jones, of Dolgellau, has a dial-ring consisting of two
concentric rings moving within the other, the larger one having a linear
groove, and the smaller one a slight hole working into it.
The romantic attachment of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, to Mary, the
second sister of Henry VIII., is an interesting episode in ring history.
She had been married in 1514 to Louis XII. of France, a political union of
youth and beauty to debilitated old age. Brandon was sent with several
English nobles to grace the nuptials. There is reason to believe that Mary
had flattered his hopes of marrying her long before she quitted England.
King Louis died three months after his marriage, and a few days after the
Queen was secretly married to Suffolk. That during the brief interval
between the marriage and death of the French monarch some interchange of
affection occurred between the lovers is certain. A rumour had spread that
Suffolk had shown a diamond ring she gave him. ‘The truth is,’ she writes,
‘that one night at Tournay, being at the banquet, after the banquet he put
himself upon his knees before me, and in speaking and in playing he drew
from my finger the ring, and put it upon his, and since showed it to me;
and I took to laugh, and to him said that he was a thief, and that I
thought not that the King had with him led thieves out of his country. The
word _larron_ he could not understand, wherefore I was constrained to ask
how one said in Flemish _larron_. And afterwards I said to him in Flemish
_dieffe_, and I prayed him many times to give it me again, for that it
was too much known. But he understood me not well, and kept it on unto the
next day that I spake to the King, him requiring to make him to give it to
me, because it was too much known–I promising him one of my bracelets the
which I wore, the which I gave him. And then he gave me the said ring; the
which one other time at Lylle, being set nigh to my lady of Hornes, and he
before upon his knees, it took again from my finger. I spake to the King
to have it again; but it was not possible, for he said unto me that he
would give me others better, and that I should leave him that. I said unto
him that it was not for the value, but for that it was too much known. He
would not understand it, but departed from me. The morrow after he brought
me one fair point of diamond, and one table of ruby, and showed me it was
for the other ring, wherefore I durst no more speak of it, if not to
beseech him it should not be shewed to any person; the which hath not all
to me been done.’ ‘Thus signed, M.’
In ‘Household Words’ (vol. ix. p. 277), there is an account of two rings
supposed to have been stolen from Charles II. on his death-bed. ‘I should
have told you, in his fits his feet were as cold as ice, and were kept
rubbed with hot cloths, which were difficult to get. Some say the Queen
rubbed one and washed it in tears. Pillows were brought from the Duchess
of Portsmouth by Mrs. Roche. His Highness, the Duke of York, was the first
there, and then I think the Queen (he sent for her); the Duchess of
Portsmouth swooned in the chamber, and was carried out for air; Nelly
Gwynne roared to a disturbance, and was led out, and lay roaring behind
the door; the Duchess wept and returned; the Princess (afterwards Queen
Anne) was not admitted, he was so ghastly a sight (his eye-balls were
turned that none of the blacks were seen, and his mouth drawn up to one
eye), so they feared it might affect the child she goes with. None came in
at the common door, but by an odd side-door, to prevent a crowd, but
enough at convenient times to satisfy all. The grief of the Duchess of
Portsmouth did not prevent her packing and sending many strong boxes to
the French ambassador’s; and the second day of the King’s sickness, the
chamber being kept dark–one who comes from the light does not see very
soon, and much less one who is between them and the light there is–so she
went to the side of the bed, and sat down to, and, taking the King’s hands
in hers, felt his two great diamond rings; thinking herself alone, and,
asking him what he did with them on, said she would take them off, and did
it at the same time, and looking up saw the Duke on the other side,
steadfastly looking on her, at which she blushed much, and held them
towards him, and said: “Here, sire, will you take them?” “No, madam,” he
said, “they are as safe in your hands as mine, I will not touch them until
I see how things will go.” But, since the King’s death, she has forgot to
restore them, though he has not that she took them, for he told the
story.’
This extract is taken from a letter written by a lady who was the wife of
a person about the court at Whitehall, and forms part of a curious
collection of papers lately discovered at Draycot House, near Chippenham.
In connection with incidents concerning rings, I may allude to the golden
spoil that Messrs. Garrard, goldsmiths, of the Haymarket, London,
purchased from the prize-agents of the British forces employed on the Gold
Coast. These precious objects appear to have been collected by the King
of Ashantee in great haste as a propitiatory offering, and were evidently
seized and sent at random to the British general. Among them are rings of
the most beautiful yet fantastic shapes, showing the extraordinary
imitative talents which the Ashantee goldsmiths possess. Perhaps the most
curious of these is a ring finely chased, the signet of which is made of
what seems to be an ancient Coptic coin. Two rings appear to have been
copied from early English betrothal rings, precisely such as those by
which lovers plighted their troth in this country many years ago.

CHAPTER X.REMARKABLE RINGS.
A volume of some amplitude might be written on the very attractive subject
of the present chapter, for there are very few families in the kingdom
cherishing a regard for ancestry and for the antiquarian interests of
their country, who could not show examples of rings possessing unusual
interest, not only of family, but of general importance. The Loan
Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum
in 1872 exhibited an unusual display of finger-rings contributed from
every part of the kingdom, many of them of extreme rarity and beauty;
while the famous Waterton Collection acquired by the Museum, described by
one of the most eminent authorities on this particular subject as ‘in its
almost unlimited extent, comprising the rings of all ages and nations,’
afforded specimens, many of which were unique, and of singular interest.
The limits of the present book enable me only to mention a few instances
of remarkable rings, in addition to those which have been already alluded
to in the previous chapters. Rings of the earliest ages naturally attract
our observation more than those of later times, and are invaluable studies
to the historian and the antiquarian, throwing light upon many subjects,
of which they are in some cases the only reflex, and enabling us to judge
of the progress of art in distant eras, to assist chronological
researches, and to explain by inscriptions and figures many dubious points
which would otherwise remain obscure.
No doubt there are many instances in which we have to depend on tradition
alone for circumstances in connection with ring incidents, but even in
these cases romance and poetry lend their aid in rendering them full of
charm and interest, as an acquaintance with the mediæval writers more
especially will prove, and to which I have frequently alluded in the
preceding chapters.
Among the most remarkable collections of cameos, intaglios, and
finger-rings, are those known as the ‘Devonshire Gems,’ formed in the last
century by William Cavendish, third Duke of Devonshire. Eighty-eight,
including some of the finest cameos, were withdrawn from it, and mounted
in enamelled gold as a parure, unsurpassed for beauty and rarity.
These precious gems were exhibited at the South Kensington Museum in 1872.
Amongst the finger-rings were a scarabæus in grey and white onyx of three
strata, in its antique ring of massive gold, thickened and expanded at the
shoulders; a splendid specimen of a large gold ring of the best
Italo-Greek work, the hoop formed of delicately woven corded pattern, the
large deep bezel enriched with exquisite applied ornament in minute
threaded work, perhaps the finest ring of its type known; a ring with
intaglio of female head chased on the gold of the bezel is of antique
Greek type; an intaglio of beautiful antique work on banded onyx, set in a
massive gold ring; a most remarkable Roman ring, the bezel representing a
Cupid’s head, chased in full relief on the solid; a small gold ring, the
square bezel engraved with a dolphin, and the hoop formed of triple
beaded pattern; eight antique Roman rings, for the most part of the second
and third centuries, one of which has the open-work hoop; a very
interesting mediæval ring of rude workmanship, formed of electron, or gold
much alloyed with silver; on the circular bezel is a head in intaglio, and
in rather rude lettering ‘VIVAT,’ the shoulders have pellets at the side
of the hoop–the date would appear to be of the seventh or eighth century;
a good example of the iconographic type of English ring engraved on the
bezel with figures of saints, fifteenth century; a massive gold ring,
shoulders and hoop chased, Gothic inscriptions within the hoop; a fine
English fifteenth century signet; a massive signet of the sixteenth
century; a signet with shield of arms engraved on the under side of a thin
piece of rock crystal and coloured, sixteenth or seventeenth century.
Among the classical antiquities in the British Museum is a rich collection
of gems retaining their antique settings, a treasure not to be surpassed
by any in Europe. Among these is a magnificent intaglio of Hercules
slaying the Hydra, very deeply cut on a rich sard, and set in a massive
gold ring of the form fashionable during the Lower Empire. The wonderful
lion-ring from the Prince of Canino’s collection I have already described
in the first chapter of this work. An account of the Museum gems will be
found in the works of the Rev. C. W. King, on ‘Precious Stones’ and
‘Antique Gems.’
In the same magnificent collection are some curious rings, amongst other
objects from Switzerland, of the people who built their habitations on
piles in the lakes.
In the British Museum is also preserved the gold signet-ring of Mary,
Queen of Scots. On the face is engraved the royal arms and supporters of
the kingdom of Scotland, with the motto ‘IN DEFENS’ and her initials ‘M.
R.’ In the inner side of the seal a crowned monogram is engraved, ‘which
might have been an unsolved enigma, but for the existence, in the State
Paper Office, of a letter written by Mary to Queen Elizabeth, in which she
has drawn the identical monogram after signing her name. Sir Henry Ellis,
who first traced out this curious history, says, “It is clearly formed of
the letters M. and A. (for Mary and Albany), and gives countenance to the
opinion that the written monogram was intended for Elizabeth and Burghley
to study, the subsequent creation of the title of Duke of Albany in Lord
Darnley ultimately opening their eyes to the enigma.”’
A similarly interesting ring is that of Henry, Lord Darnley, husband to
Mary, Queen of Scots, now in the Waterton Collection at the South
Kensington Museum. On the bezel it bears the two initials ‘M. H.’ united
by a lover’s knot. In the hoop is the name engraved ‘HENRI L. DARNLEY,’
and the year of the marriage, 1565.
In the interesting ‘Notices of Collections of Glyptic Art,’ by the Rev. C.
W. King, M.A., published in the ‘Archæological Journal’ for October 1861,
is a description of some remarkable rings in the Queen’s and other
collections. By the kindness of the editor of the Journal I am enabled to
give an abstract of the valuable papers contributed by the Rev. C. W.
King. In the Royal Collection is a ruby set in a massy gold ring, having
the name of ‘Loys XII.,’ and the date of his decease, 1515, engraved
inside. The ruby has a head in profile of King Louis, and is a stone of
considerable size (being half an inch in diameter) and of the finest
quality. The drawing is correct, though somewhat stiff, after the usual
manner of the Quattro Cento heads; the relief is somewhat flat, and all
the details most accurately finished; both for material and execution this
gem is an invaluable monument of the early times of the art.
The signet-ring made for Charles II., when Prince of Wales, has the
ostrich plumes between the letters ‘C. P.’–‘Carolus Princeps’–neatly and
deeply cut upon a table _diamond_ (½ × ⅜ inch in size) formed into a
heater-shaped, seven-sided shield. The stone is slightly tinged with
yellow, but of fine lustre, and such that of its nature no doubt whatever
can be entertained. The ring, holding this in every respect interesting
relic, has the back enamelled with a bow and quiver _en saltire_. A
marvellous specimen of metal-work is the signet of his unfortunate father,
having the royal arms most minutely engraved upon a shield of steel, and
the lion and unicorn (modelled with matchless skill in the same metal in
full relief) reclining upon the shoulders of a gold ring, and that of a
size by no means inconvenient for wear upon the little finger.
The Marlborough gems[75] constitute a famous collection, as it now
stands, formed by the union of the Arundel and the Bessborough, together
with certain additions made at the close of the last century by the
grandfather of the present Duke of Marlborough. This collection includes
many masterpieces of art set in rings of fine gold in a plain solid
imitation of the ancient ring worn by the later Romans, having a slight
round shank, gradually thickening towards the shoulders.
The Bessborough Collection deservedly ranks as one of the first in Europe
for the interest and value of the works of art it contains (as viewed
exclusively in that light) and the gems themselves, are pre-eminently
distinguished by the unusual taste and elegance of the rings in which they
are for the most part set. In this point of view alone they will furnish a
rich treat to every amateur in that elegant branch of the jeweller’s
craft. Some are choice examples of the Rénaissance goldsmiths’ skill; the
majority, however, plainly show that they were made to the commission of
the noble possessor, exhibiting as they do the most varied designs in the
Louis XV. style, in which one is at a loss what most to admire, the
fertility of invention displayed in the great variety of the forms, or the
perfection of workmanship with which these designs have been carried out
in the finest gold.
The Rev. C. W. King mentions a ring in this collection, with a
representation of a dancing fawn upon sard, as the most elegant design
ever invented by Italian taste. Appropriately to the subject, the shank
consists of two thyrsi, whilst around the head of the ring runs an ivy
garland, the leaves enamelled green. The execution of this charming idea
equals the design.
Another exquisite old Italian ring is described as being adorned with two
masks of Pan upon the shoulders, the very masterpieces of chasings in
gold, so vigorous, so full of life, are these minute full-faced heads in
half relief.
In the same collection is a sard engraved with a head of Lucilla, mediocre
in execution, but set in a ring worthy of Cellini, to whose age the
workmanship belongs. It is certainly the most artistic example of this
ornament that has ever come under the Rev. Mr. King’s notice. Two nude
figures, one seen in front, the other from behind, carved out in flat
relief upon the shoulders of the shank, bear torches in either hand, which
wind round the setting; doves and flowers fill up the interval between
them. The perfection of these minute chasings is beyond all description,
each is a finished statuette; curious, too, is the elegance with which
they are employed, so as to fall naturally into the curvature required by
their position.
These extracts from the paper in the ‘Archæological Journal,’ by the Rev.
C. W. King, will suffice to show the great value and beauty of these
precious objects.
The famous ring of Chariclea is thus mentioned by the Rev. C. W. King in
his ‘Handbook of Engraved Gems.’ It is ‘an extract from the flowery pages
of the tasteful Bishop of Tricca, Heliodorus, who, though writing amidst
the fast-gathering clouds of the fourth century, still retained a tinge of
early culture, and could not extinguish a sinful admiration for artistic
beauty. Like other educated men of his, and even lower, times, he was
still able to appreciate the productions of an art, even then, nearly
extinct, for with what enthusiasm does he enlarge upon the description of
the ring worn by his heroine Chariclea (‘Æthiop.’ v. 13), possibly a work
the beauty of which he had himself admired in reality, or, perhaps,
actually possessed! “Such is the appearance of all amethysts coming from
India and Ethiopia; but that which Calasiris now presented to Nausicles
was far above them in value, for it was enriched with an engraving, and
worked out into an imitation of nature. The subject was a boy tending his
flocks, himself standing upon a low rock for the sake of looking about
him, and guiding his sheep to their pasture by the music of his Pandean
pipe. The flock seemed obedient to the signal, and submitted themselves
readily to be conducted by the guidance of his notes. One would say they
were themselves laden with fleeces of gold, and those not of the artist’s
giving, but due to the amethyst itself, which painted their backs with a
blush of its own. Pictured also were the tender skippings of the lambs;
whilst some running up against the rock in troops, others, turning in
frolicsome turnings around the shepherd, converted the rising ground into
an appearance of a pastoral theatre. Others, again, revelling in the blaze
of the amethyst, as if in the beams of the sun, were pawing and scraping
the rock with the points of their hoofs, as if they bounded up against it.
Such amongst them as were the first born, and the more audacious, seemed
as if they were wishing to leap over this round of the gem, but were kept
in by the artist, who had drawn a border like a golden fold around them
and the rock. Now this fold was in reality of stone, and not imitative,
for the engraver, having circumscribed a portion of the gem’s edge for
this purpose, had depicted what he required in the actual substance,
deeming it a clever stroke to contrive a stone wall upon a _stone_.”’ ‘A
remark,’ adds the Rev. C. W. King, ‘proving that our author is describing
a real intaglio, not drawing upon his fancy merely.’
The Rev. Walter Sneyd possesses a ring of singular interest, supposed to
have belonged to Roger, King of Sicily (died 1152). A representation of
this relic is given in the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iii. p. 269). ‘It
is of mixed yellow metal, gilt; on either side of the hoop there is a
crown–of the form commonly seen on coins or money of the twelfth
century–and on the signet are the words “ROGERIVS REX,” chased in high
_relief_. In the form of the character they correspond closely with
legends on coins of Roger, second Duke of Apulia of that name, crowned
King of Sicily 1129. This ring has every appearance of genuine character;
but it is difficult to tell for what purpose it was fabricated, the
inscription not being inverted, and the letters in relief ill-suited for
producing an impression. It seems very improbable that King Roger should
have worn a ring of base metal, and the conjecture may deserve
consideration that it was a signet not intended for the purpose for
sealing, but entrusted in lieu of credentials to some envoy.’
In the Waterton Collection is a ring assumed on good grounds to have been
that with which Cola di Rienzi, the famous tribune of Rome, was united to
Catarina di Riselli. ‘The ring,’ remarks Mr. Waterton, ‘was purchased for
me in Rome, for a trifling sum, at one of the periodical clearing sales of
the Monte di Pietà, and I had it for several months before I discovered
certain facts–which many archæologists consider to be corroborative of my
supposition–that this ring was the nuptial ring of Cola di Rienzi. Its
style, when compared with other objects of the period, enables us to
ascribe its date to the first half of the fourteenth century. The bezel
is an irregular octagon, in the centre there is cut, signet-wise, a
device, two stars divided per pale. Around this are inscribed two
names–Catarina, Nicola–the interstices being filled up with niello.
These names are written from left to right, and not reversed. The ring is
an elegant specimen of Italian workmanship, and I consider it to have been
produced by a Florentine artist. The reasons for believing that this may
have been the _fiancial_ ring of Rienzi and his wife are the following: 1.
The two names, Nicola (di Rienzi) and Catarina (di Riselli). 2. The date
of the ring, which we may assign to 1320-1340, the time when Rienzi lived.
3. Neither Rienzi nor his wife had any armorial bearing; and, having great
faith in his destiny, he is stated to have selected a star for his device.
The two stars divided per pale were interpreted by an eminent Roman
archæologist to be significant of the star of Rienzi, and that of his
wife.’
A curious seal-ring, formerly in the possession of Sir Richard Worsley, of
Appuldercombe, in the Isle of Wight, was exhibited at a meeting of the
Society of Antiquaries in 1775. An impression in wax was also shown at the
Plymouth Local Committee of the Exeter Diocesan Architectural Society, in
July 1850, by Mr. Cotton, of Ivybridge. The thumb-ring, set in gold, and
of exquisite workmanship, is said to have been in the possession of the
Worsley family since the time of Henry VIII. That King usually wore it on
his finger, and presented it to Sir James Worsley, his yeoman of the
wardrobe, and governor of the Isle of Wight. The device represents a
warrior completely armed from head to foot, and covered with a vest or
surcoat; his helmet is flat at the top, and brought round under the chin,
exactly in the same form as those worn in France about the middle of the
thirteenth century, during the reign of Saint Louis. The scabbard of his
sword hangs by his side, but the sword itself lies broken at his feet. His
uplifted arms grasp a ragged or knotted staff, with which he is in the act
of attacking a lion, who stands opposed to him. His shield bears the coat
armour of the Stuart family; viz., Or, a fesse checky Az. and Argt. Over
the lion’s head appears an arm in mail, holding a shield, with the above
coat of arms of the Stuarts; and in an escutcheon of pretence, a lion
rampant, the arms of Scotland and of Bruce. The sleeve of the drapery,
which falls loosely from the arm, is ornamented on the border with three
_fleurs de lis_; and the whole is enclosed within a double tressure fleury
and counter-fleury, which together form the arms of Scotland.
‘The warrior here represented’ (says Dr. Mills, Dean of Exeter, in his
account of this ring) ‘seems to be Sir Walter Stuart, born anno 1393, so
called from being hereditary High Steward of Scotland. He married Margery,
daughter of Robert Bruce, and sister to David Bruce, Kings of Scotland.
David dying without male issue, Margery became an heiress; and therefore
her arms are placed here in an escutcheon of pretence on those of Walter
Stuart, her husband.’
The device here represented seems to be in some measure ascertained by the
account given by Sir Simeon Stuart’s family in the Baronetage of England,
which says that Sir Alexander Stuart had an honourable augmentation
granted by Charles VI., King of France, viz. argent the lion of Scotland,
debruised with a ragged staff bend-wise or. This honour was probably
granted to Sir Alexander on account of some martial achievement performed
either by him or his ancestors. But the seal seems to determine it to
Walter Stuart, the husband of Margery Bruce, as there is not more than
fifty years between his death and the accession to the throne of Charles
VI. As Sir James Worsley, ancestor to Sir Richard, married Mary, eldest
daughter of Sir Nicholas Stuart, of Hartley Mauditt, in Hampshire, it is
highly probable that this ring descended to the family of Worsley by this
alliance.
The ring of St. Louis of France was formerly kept in the treasury of St.
Denis. In ‘Le Trésor Sacré de Sainct Denys’ (1646) this ring is thus
described: ‘L’anneau du mesme glorieux Roy Sainct Louis qui est précieux:
il est d’or, semé de fleurs de lys, garny d’un grand saphir quarré sur
lequel est gravée l’image du mesme sainct avec les lettres S. L., qui
veulent dire _Sigillum Lodovici_. Sur le rond de l’anneau par le dedans
sont gravez ces mots, “_C’est le Signet du Roy S. Louis_,” qui y ont esté
adjoustez après sa mort.’ A representation of this remarkable ring is here
given. It is now in the Musée des Souverains at the Louvre.
‘The wedding-ring,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King, ‘of the same prince is
said to have been set with a sapphire engraved with the Crucifixion; the
shank covered with lilies and _marguerites_, allusive to his own name and
his wife’s. This attribution is a mere _custode’s_ story. Mr. Waterton,
who examined this gem, puts it down to a much later age: the King, a full
length, has the nimbus, showing the figure to be posterior to his
beatification. It probably belongs to Louis XII.’s time.’
In the Braybrooke Collection is a cameo portrait of Madame de Maintenon,
on a very large and fine ruby, three eighths of an inch by half an inch
wide, in a most beautiful gold ring, contemporaneous setting; presented to
Louis XIV. when she retired into the convent of St. Cyr. In the same
collection is a cameo portrait of Queen Elizabeth, by Valerio Vicentini,
on a sardonyx of three strata, in a fine gold setting of the period; also
a cameo portrait of Charles I. on black jasper, a splendid work of art,
in a beautifully-enamelled gold ring of his time.
The Rev. C. W. King describes the famous signet-ring of Michael Angelo,
preserved in the Paris Collection. ‘It is a sard engraved with a group
representing a Bacchic festival, quite in the Renaissance style. In the
exergue is a boy fishing, the rebus upon the name of the artist _Gio Maria
da Pescia_. Many connoisseurs, however, hold the gem to be an undoubted
antique. Of this relic the following curious story is told:–In the last
century, as the Abbé Barthelemy was exhibiting the rarities of the
Bibliothèque to a distinguished antiquary of the day, he suddenly missed
this ring, whereupon without expressing his suspicions, he privately
despatched a servant for an emetic, which, when brought, he insisted upon
the _savant’s_ swallowing, and the ring came to light again.’[76]
The celebrated gem representing Apollo and Marsyas, which belonged to
Lorenzo de’ Medici, and formed one of the magnificent collection of the
Grand-Duke of Tuscany, once, mounted on a ring, decorated the hand of the
parricide Nero, who used it to sign his sanguinary mandates. Numbers of
copies have been taken of this gem in ancient and modern times. It is thus
described by Tenhove: Apollo, in a noble attitude, is holding his lyre,
and regarding with disdain Marsyas, who, bound to a tree, and his hands
tied behind him, awaits the just punishment of his temerity. The young
Scythian who is to execute the sentence, kneels before Apollo, apparently
imploring his clemency. The quiver and arrows of the god are suspended
from one of the branches of the tree; on the foreground are the
instruments of which the satyr has made such unfortunate use.
It is known that Nero had the folly to imagine himself the first musician
of his time, and in selecting this subject he doubtless intended to get
rid of all competition, by deterring those who might otherwise have felt
disposed to enter the lists with him. Perhaps he was looking at his left
hand, and assuming Apollo for his model, when he had the singer Menedemus,
of whom he was jealous, flayed, as it were, with whipping, in his
presence, whose yells of agony seemed to the emperor so melodious that he
warmly applauded. Lorenzo’s feeling with regard to the gem was, doubtless,
of a very different character: he selected the stone on account of its
marvellous beauty of execution.
Among the art treasures, in connection with rings and camei in the British
Museum, the Rev. C. W. King notices a cameo with a lion passant, in low
relief in the red layer of a sardonyx, exquisitely finished, which has its
value greatly enhanced by the ‘LAVR. MED.’ cut in the field, attesting
that it once belonged to the original cabinet of Lorenzo de’ Medici. This
stone, set in a ring, has its face protected by a glass; a proof of the
estimation in which its former possessor held it.
Cosmo de’ Medici had for device three diamonds on rings, intertwined
emblems of excellency, superiority, and endurance.
Lorenzo de’ Medici had a ring with a diamond; a plume of three colours,
green, white, and red, to signify that in loving God he displayed three
virtues: the white plume representing faith; the green, hope; the red,
charity. Pope Leo X. adopted this device.
Pietro de’ Medici had a falcon holding a diamond-ring in its claws,
signifying that everything should be done to please God.
In the Staunton collection of antiquities (Longbridge House, near Warwick)
is a remarkable ring, which is described (with illustrations) in the
‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iv. p. 358). It is a beautiful gold
signet-ring, found, about the year 1825, in the ruins of Kenilworth
Castle, by a person named Faulkner, who was in the constant habit of
searching among the rubbish with the expectation of making some valuable
discovery. Its weight is 4 dwts. 10 grs. The impress is very singular;
under a crown appear the numerals 87, of the forms usually designated as
Arabic, of which no example has been noticed in this country, except in
MSS. prior to the fifteenth century. Above the crown are the letters =s=
and =h=; lower down on one side is seen the letter =a=, and on the other
=m=. Various interpretations of this remarkable device have been
suggested: it has been supposed that it might have reference to the
coronation of Elizabeth, Queen of Henry VII., solemnised at Westminster,
A.D. 1487, or have been connected with the enterprise of Lambert Simnel,
which occurred during that year at the instigation of Margaret, Duchess of
Burgundy. Mr. Hawkins considers its age to have been about the reign of
Edward IV., the crown with fleur-de-lys ornaments, and the form of the =m=
being of similar character to those on his coins; a similar type of crown
may, however, be found in earlier times, as shown by the great seals and
other authorities as early even as the reign of Richard II. The letters
have been supposed to be the initials of a sentence such as ‘Sancta virgo
adjuva me’ (the second letter being read as =h=) or, supposing the ring to
be referred to the times of Henry VII., ‘Sigillum,’ or ‘secretum, Henrici,
anno (14) 87. M{h}.’ The most probable explanation, however, appears to
have been proposed by Mr. John Gough Nichols: that the ring, which is of a
size suited to a lady’s finger, might have been a betrothal or wedding
present; the initials =s.h.= and =a.m.= being those of the two parties,
the Arabic numerals indicating the date 1487, and the crown being merely
ornamental, frequently used during the fifteenth century on seals by
persons not entitled by rank to use them.
The coronet, with an initial letter, adopted as a device on the seals or
signet-rings of commoners, appears on numerous rings of the fifteenth
century, as well as on seals appended to documents. It appears on another
ring of later date in Mr. Staunton’s collection, of base metal gilt, found
in Coleshill Church, Warwickshire. The device appears to be a crown placed
upon a shaft or truncheon, resting on a heart, in base, with the initials
of the wearer, I. G., at the sides.
At a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries (May 1875), Mr. Robert Day
(Local Secretary for Ireland) exhibited a silver ring of
fourteenth-century work, the hoop portion of which is formed of two hands,
which grasp an octagonal signet that bears the centre device of a letter R
crowned, with the motto ‘Bacchal,’ and a spray of roses in the border. ‘To
illustrate this,’ remarks Mr. Day, ‘I send a small coin of base silver,
having a similar crowned R on the obverse. These crowned letters recall
the familiar lines of Chaucer, of
——a crowned A,
And after, Amor Vincit Omnia.
The ring was dug up in a potato garden at Howth, near Dublin. The motto
“Bacchal” I am unable to throw any light upon, except it be a contraction
of Baccalaureus. On the rim is a star of six points, to show the position
for sealing.’
A ring-relic of Fotheringay, belonging to Mrs. Simpson, of Edinburgh, is
of gold, set with a diamond cut in facets, with three smaller diamonds
over it, representing a crowned heart. It is considered to have belonged
to the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots.
A gold signet-ring, curious and interesting in several respects, the
property of Mr. James Neish, of the Laws, Dundee, was exhibited at a
meeting of the Archæological Institute in May 1864, when the following
particulars were given:–It was found about 1790, in digging the
foundations of Heathfield House, on the Hawkhill, Dundee, formerly called
the Sparrow Muir. The device (of which a representation is given in the
‘Archæological Journal,’ No. 82, 1864, p. 186) is a head, apparently
regal, bearded, with the hair long at the sides; on the breast there is a
mullet or star of five points introduced in scrolled ornament; around the
edge is a corded bordure with knots at intervals like a _cordelière_,
instead of the pearled margin usually found on seals. This knotted
cincture is well known as worn by the Franciscans, thence designated as
_Cordeliers_; as accessory to heraldic or personal ornaments, its use
seems to have been first adopted by Anne of Brittany, after the death of
Charles VIII., in 1498, as we are informed by Palliot and other writers.
It has, however, sometimes been assigned to a rather earlier period. The
hoop of Mr. Neish’s ring is plain and massive, the weight being 199
grains. The device is engraved with skill. It is difficult to tell whether
the object worn on the head is intended for a crown or a helmet, with
lateral projections resembling horns. Examples of helmets with cornute
appendages, especially found in classical art, are not wanting in mediæval
times. It has been suggested that the mullet on the breast may indicate
some allusion to the heraldic bearing of the Douglas family, especially as
the ring was discovered in the district of Angus, of which the earldom was
conferred in 1377 on a branch of that noble race. Mr. Neish–to whom both
this remarkable ring and also Heathfield House where it was found,
belong–stated that he had been informed by two persons that they
remembered the discovery; one, moreover, said that Mr. Webster, of
Heathfield House, to whom it formerly belonged, told him that the late Mr.
Constable, of Wallace Craigie (the Monkbarns of the ‘Antiquary),’ had
taken interest in the discovery, and having carried the ring to Edinburgh,
he had found there in some depository a proclamation regarding the loss of
a gold ring on Sparrow Muir, by a certain Allan Dorward, who had been
employed by David, Earl of Huntingdon, brother of William the Lion, in
building a church founded by the Earl at Dundee, and completed in 1198.
The King, according to tradition, was so pleased with the builder’s work
that he presented to him a ring, which Allan, being afterwards at a
boar-hunt on the Sparrow Muir, had there lost, and he had offered a reward
for its recovery, as made known in the proclamation before mentioned. This
tradition has been related by Mr. Andrew Jervise, in his ‘Memorials of
Angus and the Mearns,’ p. 178. According to another version the ring was
asserted to have been given by David II. (A.D. 1329-70) to his master
mason, and lost by him on the Sparrow Muir in the manner before related.
So much for tradition. The beautiful ring in Mr. Neish’s possession may
possibly be assigned to the later part of the fourteenth century; the
workmanship presents no feature of early character to justify the
supposition that it was a gift from William the Lion. There is also the
assurance of one of the most accurate and acute of Scottish antiquaries
that no such document or ‘advertisement’ as is alleged to have been put
forth by the loser of the ring is in existence; neither is there any
record of any architect employed by David II., or by his father Robert I.
The supposition seems to be that the ring may have belonged to some
person of the family of Douglas by whom St. Francis was held in special
veneration, and that hence the _cordelière_ was introduced upon it. There
existed at Dundee a Franciscan convent, which appears to have received
support from the Douglas family.
A relic of Flodden Field (1513), a ring, was found in 1783, on the site of
the battle. It bore the following inscription in Norman-French: ‘On est
mal loiauls amans qui se poet garder des maux disans’ (no lovers so
faithful as to be able to guard themselves against evil-speakers). Between
every two words, and at the beginning of each line, is a boar’s head. This
being the crest of the Campbells, it is not improbable that the ring was
that of the Argylls, and might have belonged to Archibald Campbell, the
second Earl of Argyll, who was killed while commanding the van of the army
at the fatal battle of Flodden Field,–
Where shiver’d was fair Scotland’s spear,
And broken was her shield.
I have previously alluded to the signet-ring of Mary, Queen of Scots, in
the British Museum. A few additional particulars of this celebrated relic
will be interesting. It were now a fruitless task to seek to discover
through what means this ring passed into the collection of the Queen of
George III. It subsequently came into possession of the late Duke of York,
and at the sale of his plate and jewels at Christie’s, in 1827, it was
purchased for fourteen guineas.
This ring is massive, and weighs 212 grs.; the hoop has been chased with
foliage and flowers, and enamelled, and appears to have been much worn; a
few traces of the enamel remain. The impress is the royal achievement,
engraved on a piece of crystal or white sapphire, of oval form, measuring
about three-quarters of an inch by five-eighths. The royal cognizance or
the crest, on a helmet of mantlings, and ensigned with a crown, is a lion
sejant affronté gu. crowned, holding in his dexter paw a naked sword, and
in the sinister a sceptre, both erect and ppr. Above the crest appear the
motto and the initials previously alluded to. The shield is surrounded by
the collar of the Thistle, with the badge, and supported by unicorns
chained and ducally gorged. On the dexter side there is a banner charged
with the arms of Scotland; on the sinister another with three bars, over
all a saltire. It is remarkable that the heraldic tinctures are
represented on the back of the engraved stone, either by enamelling or
painting, and the field or back-ground is coloured dark blue. This mode of
ornamentation is found in some of the fine Italian works of the period.
Sir Thomas Hepburn has a gold ring traditionally regarded as having been
worn by Queen Mary of Scotland. The hoop is enamelled black; the setting
consists of six opals surrounding one of much larger size, presenting the
appearance of a six-petalled flower.
Apropos of Queen Mary’s assumption of the arms of England in defiance of
Elizabeth, they are so engraved upon a signet-ring that belonged to the
late Earl of Buchan, as certified upon the little boxes containing
facsimiles of the seal, and sold to all sight-seers at Holyrood Palace.
The arms of England and France are placed in the first and fourth quarter
of the shield: those of Scotland in the second quarter, and those of
Ireland in the third quarter.
A ring of very exquisite workmanship connected with the Seymour family,
and in the possession of the Earl of Home, was exhibited at the Society of
Antiquaries (April 1864), and is an interesting historical relic. The
body of the ring is made of mother-of-pearl, and on it is set an oval
medallion, with a cipher ‘E. R.’ in relief, the E. being made of diamonds,
the R. of blue enamel: on each side along the shank of the ring is a line
of rubies set in gold. The medallion with the cipher opens, and discloses
a recess in the mother-of-pearl with a bust in low relief, apparently a
portrait of Jane Seymour, three-quarter face. The bust is made of gold,
coloured with enamel or paint, and is set with a small diamond as a
brooch. The inner surface of the lid with the cipher encloses a bust in
profile of Queen Elizabeth in enamelled gold, with a ruby set as a brooch.
Within the ring, and therefore at the back of the portrait of Jane
Seymour, is a small oval plate of gold, ornamented with translucent
enamel, and representing an earl’s coronet, over which is a phœnix in
flames. The phœnix was a well-known badge of Queen Elizabeth, but it was
also adopted as the crest of the Seymour family, to whom it must here be
referred. Edward Seymour, eldest son of the Protector by his second wife,
was created Earl of Hertford by Queen Elizabeth in 1559, and it is
probable that the ring was made shortly after, before he lost the favour
of the Queen through his marriage with Lady Catherine Grey.
In ‘Archæologia,’ vol. xxxi., is a fine example of a weighty ring of fine
gold, found in 1823 at Thetford, in Suffolk. The device which appears upon
this ring is an eagle displayed; on the inner side is engraved a bird,
with the wings closed, apparently a falcon, with a crown upon its head.
The following posy, or motto, commencing on the outer side, is continued
on the interior of the ring:–=dens me ouroye de bous senir a gree–com
moun coner desiri=–‘God work for me to make suit acceptably to you, as
my heart desires.’ The devices appear to be heraldic, and the motto that
of a lover, or a suitor to one in power. The eagle is the bearing of
several ancient Suffolk families; it was also a badge of the House of
Lancaster, and Thetford was one portion of the Duchy of Lancaster.
In the ‘Revue Britannique’ for January 1869, the discovery was announced
of the two wedding-rings interchanged between Martin Luther and Catherine
von Bora, one of nine nuns, who, under the influence of his teaching, had
emancipated themselves from their religious vows. She afterwards married
Luther. The _Revue_ states that the ring of the great Reformer is at
Waldenburg, and the bride’s ring is now in Paris; that they are similar in
composition, the latter being smaller. They are of silver gilt, with a
figure of Christ upon the cross, and bear inside the same inscription, ‘D.
Martino Luthero Catherinan Boren, 13 Juni, 1589.’ It is further stated
that the bride’s ring belongs to a Protestant lady, Madame Michael Girod,
and was purchased by her at an old store-shop in Geneva.
Considerable doubts exist, however, as to the authenticity of these rings,
a writer in ‘Notes and Queries’ pointing out an evident mistake in the
date, and the inscription on the bride’s ring ‘D. Martin_o_ Luther_o_
Catherinan Boren:’ not meaning ‘Dr. Martin Luther to Catherinan Boren’ but
the reverse. Another correspondent of the same work mentions that ‘Luther’
rings were made for a jubilee at Leipsic in 1825.
Mr. H. Noel Humphreys, an eminent authority on these subjects, states
(‘Intellectual Observer,’ February 1862): ‘The betrothment-ring of Luther,
which belonged to a family at Leipsic as late as 1817, and is doubtless
still preserved with the greatest care as a national relic of great
interest, is composed of an intricate device of gold-work set with a ruby,
the emblem of exalted love. The gold devices represent all the symbols of
the “Passion.” In the centre is the crucified Saviour: on one side the
spear, with which the side was pierced, and the rod of reeds of the
flagellation. On the other is a leaf of hyssop. Beneath are the dies with
which the soldiers cast lots for the garment without seam, and below are
the three nails. At the back may be distinguished the inside of the
ladder, and other symbols connected with the last act of the Atonement;
the whole so grouped as to make a large cross, surmounted by the ruby, the
most salient feature of the device. On the inside of the ring the
inscriptions are still perfect. They contain the names of the betrothed
pair, and the date of the wedding-day in German, “der 13 Junij 1525.” This
was the ring presented to the wife at the betrothal, and worn by her after
the marriage. The _marriage-ring_ worn by Luther after his marriage was
still more intricate in its structure. It is an ingeniously contrived
_double_-ring, every intricacy of structure having its point and meaning.
In the first place, though the double-ring can be divided, so as to form
two complete rings, yet they cannot be separated from each other, as the
one passing through the other causes them to remain permanently
interlaced, as an emblem of the marriage vow, though still forming two
perfect rings; illustrating also the motto engraved within them, “_Was Got
zussamen füget soll Kein Mensch Scheiden_”–what God doth join no man
shall part. On the one hoop is a diamond, the emblem of power, duration,
and fidelity; and on the inside of its raised mounting, which, when joined
to the other hoop, will be concealed, are the initials of Martin Luther,
followed by a D., marking his academic title. On the corresponding surface
of the mounting of the gem of the other hoop are the initials of his wife,
Catherine von Bora, which, on the closing of the rings, necessarily lies
close to those of Luther. The gem in this side of the ring is a ruby, the
emblem of exalted love; so that the names of Catherine and Luther are
closely united, when the rings are closed, beneath the emblems of exalted
love, power, duration, and fidelity.
‘There can be but little doubt that these curious and interesting rings
were designed by the celebrated painter and goldsmith, Lucas Cranach, and
possibly wrought with his own hand, the marriage of his friend Luther
being a special occasion which he doubtless wished to honour with every
attention. Lucas was, indeed, one of the three select friends whom Luther
took to witness his betrothal; the others being Dr. Bugenhagen, town
preacher of Wittenberg, and the lawyer Assel, who all accompanied him to
Reichenbach’s house, where Catherine resided.’
Among the numerous articles of Shakspearian interest presented to the
Shakspeare Library and Museum at Stratford, by Miss Anne Wheler, the
surviving sister of the historian of Stratford-on-Avon, the late Mr.
Robert Bell Wheler, is a gold signet-ring described as Shakspeare’s,
having the initials ‘W. S.’ a true lover’s knot entwined between them.
An account of the discovery of the ring appeared in the ‘Guide to
Stratford-on-Avon,’ by Mr. Wheler, published in 1814, from which it
appears that the ring was found four years previously by a labourer’s wife
upon the surface of the mill close adjoining Stratford churchyard. ‘I
purchased it on the same day,’ observes Mr. Wheler, ‘for thirty-six
shillings (the current value of the gold), yet the woman had sufficient
time to destroy the precious _ærugo_ by having it unnecessarily immersed
in aquafortis, to ascertain and prove the metal, at a silversmith’s shop.
It is of tolerably large dimensions (weighing 12 dwts.), and evidently a
gentleman’s ring of Elizabeth’s age.’ To prove the authenticity of the
ring, Mr. Wheler made many efforts to discover whether there existed
anywhere Shakspeare’s seal attached to letter or other writings, but
ineffectually. ‘From a close observation of the ring,’ adds Mr. Wheler, ‘I
should be inclined to suppose that it was made in the early part of the
poet’s life. Mr. Malone, in a conversation I had with him in London, said
he had nothing to allege against the probability of my conjecture as to
its owner.’
No positive proof, however, according to Mr. Wheler’s own admission, can
be adduced as to the authenticity of the ring having belonged to
Shakspeare, but the very probability gives an interest to it, which most
persons who inspect it will feel.
‘Is it Shakspeare’s?’ remarks Mr. Fairholt. ‘It is evidently a gentleman’s
ring, and of the poet’s era. It is just such a ring as a man in his
station would fittingly wear–gentlemanly, but not pretentious. There was
but one other person in the small town of Stratford at that time to whom
the same initials belonged. This was one William Smith, but his seal is
attached to several documents preserved among the records of the
corporation, and is totally different.’ [He was a draper; and his seal has
a device upon it consisting of a skull with a bone in the mouth; the
letters ‘W. S.’ are under it, and very small. This ring was, most
probably, of silver. It is unlikely that a small trader like Smith should
wear a heavy gold ring, like this which claims to be Shakspeare’s.] Mr.
Halliwell, in his ‘Life of Shakspeare,’ observes, that ‘little doubt can
be entertained that this ring belonged to the poet, and, it is, probably,
the one he lost before his death, and was not to be found when his will
was executed, the word _hand_ being substituted for that of _seal_ in the
original copy of that document.’ [The concluding words of the will are,
‘in witness whereof I have hereunto put my seale,’ the last word being
struck through with a pen, and _hand_ substituted.]
In the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ (May 1810) we find: ‘For further
confirmation of circumstances we may observe over the porch leading into
the gate of Charlecote Hall, near Stratford-on-Avon, erected in the early
part of Elizabeth’s reign by the very Sir Thomas Lucy who is said to have
prosecuted Shakspeare, the letters “T. L.” connected in a manner precisely
similar to that on the ring.’
The crossing of the centre lines of the W., with the oblique direction of
the lines of the S., exactly agree with the characters of that day. For
proof, we need wander no farther than Stratford Church, where the
Cloptons’ and Totness’ tombs will furnish representations of rings, and
Shakspeare’s monument of letters, exactly corresponding in point of shape.
The connection or union of the letters, by the ornamental strings and
tassels, was then frequently used, of which we may meet with numerous
instances upon seals of that period.
In the life of Haydon the painter we have the following letter from him to
Keats (March 1, 1818): ‘My dear Keats, I shall go mad! In a field at
Stratford-upon-Avon, that belonged to Shakspeare, they have found a gold
ring and seal with the initials “W. S.” and a true lover’s knot between.
If this is not Shakspeare’s whose is it?–a true lover’s knot! I saw an
impression to-day and am to have one as soon as possible: as sure as you
breathe and that he was the first of beings the seal belonged to him.
‘O Lord!’ ‘B. R. HAYDON.’
The ring of Sir Walter Raleigh, which he wore at the time of his
execution, is, according to the statement in ‘Notes and Queries’ of a
descendant of that truly ‘great’ man, in the possession of a member of the
Blanckley family, being a heir-loom, the Blanckleys being directly
descended from Sir Walter, and having several interesting relics of their
distinguished ancestor.
Octavius Morgan, Esq., F.R.S., F.S.A., exhibited at a meeting of the
Society of Antiquaries (February 1857) a rare and curious ‘Trinity’ ring,
turned out of one piece of ivory, and belonging to the latter part of the
seventeenth century. It is formed by a single band of ivory, making three
circuits, so intertwined with one another as not to touch, and thus
forming a threefold ring. ‘Its curiosity is great,’ remarked Mr. Morgan,
‘because these rings were only made by one person; so much art and skill
were required in the making that they were the wonder of the time, and no
one at the present day knows by what contrivance they were turned, or how
they could now be made. The interest consists in having ascertained the
maker of the ring, which I by chance met with some years ago in this
city…. We find from Doppelmayer that Stephan Zick (born 1639), the
artist to whom I attribute this ring, was descended from a Nuremberg
family long famous for their skill in this art…. Doppelmayer, describing
some of the wonderful objects which he produced, says, the work which most
distinguished him was his Trinity rings. Of these he made only three; the
two first were in the Museums of Vienna and Dresden, and the third became
the property of an amateur collector of curiosities in Nuremberg as a
wonderful work of art and skill. This was written in 1730. On comparing
this ring with the engraving in Doppelmayer, it exactly corresponds. The
little box turned as a case for it shows how it was cared for, and is
indicative of the period when it was made. We also learn from Doppelmayer
that these Trinity rings seem to have been first made in gold by a
jeweller of Nuremberg, Johan Heel, about 1670, and he describes them as
consisting of a single piece of wire, forming a three-fold circuit, each
circuit skilfully intertwined with the other two so as not to touch each
other, the ends being so cleverly united that the point of juncture could
not be discovered. Thus there were three rings in one, and hence the name.
The inventor of these ingenious rings is not known, but it is considered
to be a Jesuit, named Scherern, about 1660. It certainly required great
skill to have turned such a ring out of one piece of ivory, a work which I
believe it is not possible to accomplish with any machinery now in use.
The inference I draw from the foregoing is, that if Stephan Zick alone
could make these rings of ivory–if he only made three, and that if one of
these is at Vienna, and another at Dresden, I must now be the fortunate
possessor of the third.’
(The greatest progress in ivory-carving was made in Flanders, Holland, and
Germany, about the middle of the sixteenth century. There are in the
museums of Munich, Vienna, and Berlin, a quantity of ivory vases, etc.,
covered with exquisite carvings.–_Labarte._)
Mr. Edwards, in his ‘History and Poetry of Finger-rings,’ mentions, and
gives an illustration of, a ring that may well claim a place among
remarkable specimens. It is a gigantic ring, presented in 1852, by some
citizens of California to President Pierce. The description of this
golden monster is given from Gleason’s ‘Pictorial Newspaper’ (December 25,
1852): ‘It weighs upwards of a full pound, and for chasteness of design,
elegance of execution, and high style of finish, has, perhaps, no equal in
the world. The design is by Mr. George Blake, a mechanic of San Francisco.
The circular portion of the ring is cut into squares, which stand at right
angles to each other, and are embellished each with a beautifully executed
design, the entire group representing a pictorial history of California,
from her primitive state down to her present flourishing condition, under
the flag of our Union.
‘Thus, there is given a grizzly bear in a menacing attitude, a deer
bounding down a slope, an enraged boa, a soaring eagle, and a salmon. Then
we have the Indian with his bow and arrow, the primitive weapon of
self-defence; the native mountaineer on horseback, and a Californian on
horseback, throwing his lasso. Next peeps out a Californian tent. Then you
see a miner at work with his pick, the whole being shaded by two American
flags, with the staves crossed and groups of stars in the angles. The part
of the ring reserved for the seal is covered by a solid and deeply carved
plate of gold, bearing the arms of the State of California in the centre,
surmounted by the banner and stars of the United States, and inscribed
with “Frank Pierce” in old Roman characters. This lid opens upon a hinge,
and presents to view, underneath, a square box, divided by bars of gold
into nine separate compartments, each containing a pure specimen of the
varieties of one found in the country. Upon the inside is the following
inscription: “_Presented to_ Franklin Pierce, _the Fourteenth President of
the United States_.”
‘The ring is valued at two thousand dollars. Altogether, it is a massive
and superb affair, rich in emblematical design and illustration, and
worthy its object.’
In the collection of Lord Braybrooke is the ring of Tippoo Saib, which is
thus described in the catalogue: ‘This magnificent jewel has a plain gold
hoop, with the entire surface set with rubies; on the centre is perched a
large bird, apparently intended for a hawk, made of gold and beautifully
executed, with the plumage composed completely of precious stones, the
diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire. A better idea of the splendour of
this ornament will be formed from a description of the bird. Length from
the base of the bill to the end of the tail, 3¼ inches; girth round the
body, 3¼ inches; width across the scapulars, 1½ inch; width across the
tail, three-quarters of an inch; height 1⅛ inch. In the beak are two small
ruby-drops, a single emerald in the crest, and rubies for the eyes; a
single row of nine sapphires encircles the throat, and 139 rubies,
including those on the hoop, 14 in number, with 29 diamonds, some of them
very large, and all set flat, cover the rest of the neck, breast, back,
and tail. Several gems beside have been lost from their setting. Across
the belly, behind the legs, is an inscription in some Indian characters,
which has not yet been explained beyond the following remarks upon it in a
letter addressed by the (late) A. Way Esq., who copied it, to Lady
Braybrooke: “The characters are a corruption of the ordinary Sanscrit,
that is, I suppose, some local variety or peculiarity of a dialect in
Tippoo’s district; they appear to signify certain titles of the great
chief, commencing with a portion of his proper style, ‘_Maha ra jah_,’
sufficient to show that the inscription relates only to the name of Tippoo
Saib. This is all that I can at present offer in regard to your highly
curious jewel.–Nov. 24, 1848.” This unique and interesting ring was
brought from India by some one in the army, at the time of the capture of
Seringapatam, 1792, under the first Marquis Cornwallis, and presented to
his family, by whom it has been preserved and descended as an heirloom
through his eldest grandchild, the late Lady Braybrooke. It was stated at
the time of its presentation that Tippoo was in the habit of wearing it
when he went out hawking, perhaps only when he did so in state. Weight of
the whole 2 oz. 6 dwts. 7 grs.’
The Baroness Burdett Coutts possesses a gold ring set with large green
tourmaline. It is of Indian workmanship, and is said to have belonged to
Tippoo Saib.
The Rev. C. W. King in his ‘Precious Stones, Gems, and Precious Metals,’
mentions ‘an unparalleled specimen of Oriental caprice and extravagance–a
finger-ring cut out of a solid piece of emerald of remarkably pure
quality, with two emerald drops and two collets set with rose diamonds,
and ruby borders in Oriental mountings, formerly belonging to Jehanghir,
son of Akbar, Emperor of Delhi, whose name is engraved on the ring.
Diameter 1¼ × 1⅛ in. This ring was presented by Shah Soojah to the East
India Company, and was purchased by the late Lord Auckland, when
Governor-General of India. Now in the possession of the Hon. Miss Eden.’
A wonderful ring was presented by the Great Mogul to the only envoy of the
Emperor of Germany who ever visited his court. ‘The very first sight of
this jewel,’ observes the Rev. C. W. King, ‘sufficed to convince one that
it could have had no other origin than this, such a show of barbarian
splendour did it exhibit, forming in itself a complete cabinet of every
kind of precious stone of colour to be found in his dominions. Its form
was that of a wheel about three inches in diameter, composed of several
concentric circles, joined together by the spokes radiating from the
centre, in which was set a large round sapphire. The spokes at all their
intersections with the circles, had collets soldered on them, each
containing some coloured gem; in fact, every stone of value except the
diamond occurred in this glorious company. On the back was fixed the
shank, and when worn it covered the whole hand like some huge mushroom.’
On the death of the late Cardinal York at Rome, amongst various relics of
the house of Stuart, purchased for Lord John Scott, were the ring worn by
the Pretender–James the Third, as he was styled abroad–on his marriage
with the Princess Clementina Sobieski, and the marriage-ring of his son,
Prince Charles Edward, enclosing a beautiful little miniature; a gold ring
with a white rose in enamel, worn by King James the Second and his son; a
ring with a cameo portrait in ivory of James the Second; a ring with a
miniature portrait of Henry Stuart, Cardinal, Duke of York, when young; a
ring with a cameo portrait, by the celebrated engraver Pickler, of James
Sobieski, great-uncle of the Pretender’s wife; a ring with a cameo
portrait, by the same artist, of the wife of Prince Charles Edward; also
one with a cameo portrait of the Duchess of Albany, and another containing
a lock of her hair.
In the possession of R. H. Soden Smith, Esq., F.S.A., is a gold ring,
having in the bezel a miniature of Prince James Stuart, the old Chevalier,
set round with small crystals. English contemporary work.
Sir Watkin Williams Wynn possesses a gold ring, set with a ruby,
surrounded by the Garter, crowned with the motto ‘Dieu et mon Droit’ on
the hoop.
This is an interesting family relic, having been a present from Prince
Charles Edward.
A signet-ring, believed to be the Council Seal of Queen Henrietta Maria,
made by warrant, Sept. 6, 1626, is the property of Miss Hartshorne, and
has a circular bezel, set with sapphire, engraved with escutcheon, bearing
the arms of England surmounted by a crown, the letters M and R at the
sides; on the shoulders is the rose of England in coloured enamel.
Diameter of the ring 1⅛ in. This curious relic was exhibited at the Loan
Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum
in 1872.
Mr. Octavius Morgan, F.R.S., F.S.A., has in his valuable collection of
rings one formed with a diminutive squirt, which, being concealed in the
hand, would, at pleasure, throw a jet of water into the eye of anyone
examining it.[77]
In the Waterton Collection is a bronze squirt-ring with octagonal bezel,
finely chased with mask of Silenus, the ring hollow, with tube projecting
from the hoop, so that it can be used as a squirt. Italian work of the
sixteenth century. L. one and seven-tenths inch.
In the same collection, also, is a ring made to serve as a _whistle_. It
is of lead, with circular bezel finely chased in relief, with profile
heads of Charles the Fifth and his empress. Flemish, sixteenth century.
Diameter one and one-eighth inch.
In the ‘Annual Register’ for 1764 we read that Mr. Arnold, of Devereux
Court, in the Strand, watchmaker, had the honour to present His Majesty
George the Third with a most curious repeating watch of his own making,
_set in a ring_. The size of the watch was something less than a silver
twopence; it contained 120 different parts and weighed altogether five
dwts. seven grains and three-fourths.
Among curious ring relics may be mentioned one in which a tooth of Sir
Isaac Newton was set. The tooth was sold to a nobleman in 1816 for
730_l._, who had it placed in the ring, and wore it constantly on his
finger. Denon, the French _savant_, wore a ring set with a tooth of
Voltaire.
At Norwich in 1847 a silver ring was exhibited, set with a dark-coloured
substance, supposed to be the palatal tooth of a fish, like those of the
_Sphœrodus Gigas_. This closely resembles the precious ring given
(according to tradition) by Richard Cœur-de-Lion, to one of the Dawnay
family in the Holy Wars, and adopted as their crest. It is preserved in
the collection of Viscount Downe, and was shown by him at a meeting of the
Institute at York. Another ring, with the same kind of setting, belonged
to the late Mr. Albert Way. Date, the thirteenth century.
In the collection of Mr. A. J. B. Beresford Hope is a gold ring set with a
sapphire of extraordinary brilliancy, known as the ‘saphir merveilleux,’
which formerly belonged to Philippe d’Orléans (Égalité), and is mentioned
by Madame de Genlis.
In 1765, a very beautiful and perfect gold ring was found by a workman
among the ruins of the North Gate House, on Bedford Bridge, when that
building was pulled down. It bears the initials ‘J.B.,’ and is engraved
with a death’s-head and the words ‘Memento mori.’ There seems to be every
probability that this ring once belonged to John Bunyan, who was
imprisoned there. This precious relic was sold to Dr. Abbot, chaplain to
the Duke of Bedford, and presented by him in his last illness to the Rev.
G. H. Bower, perpetual curate of Elstow, the birthplace of Bunyan.
The London press has lately announced that Dean Bower bequeathed to his
nephew, Mr. Henry Addington, this ring.
In the preceding chapter I have mentioned several portrait-rings of
remarkable interest; I may add that at the Loan Exhibition of Ancient and
Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum in 1872, some fine and
highly curious specimens of this character were shown, and amongst them
the following:–
Colonel Dawson Damer is the possessor of a gold ring with a miniature by
Cosway of the eye of George, Prince of Wales.
Professor Maskelyne has an intaglio portrait of Sir Isaac Newton, set in a
ring, which was presented to the late Dr. Maskelyne, Astronomer Royal, by
Dr. Shepherd, of Cambridge, contemporary of Newton.
In the collection of Earl Beauchamp is a gold ring with enamel portrait of
the Regent Orleans, by Petitot; French, beginning of the eighteenth
century. Also a gold ring with profile portrait of Frederic the Great; and
another portrait within; eighteenth century.
Belonging to the Rev. J. C. Jackson is a gold ring set with intaglio, an
emerald portrait of James II.; eighteenth century; formerly the property
of Cardinal York. A gold ring, black enamelled, with miniature portrait of
Prince Charles Edward; eighteenth century.
A ring with a portrait head of Queen Elizabeth (?) in carved jacinth,
mounted in gold, set with brilliants; French, sixteenth century, the
property of George Bonnor, Esq.
Till, in his account of ‘Coronation Medals,’ mentions (but without citing
his authority) that the late Cardinal of York wore constantly, till his
decease, a ring which bore the portraits of the Pretender, James the
Third, and his wife; it was taken from his finger in the hour of his
dissolution, by his servant, and sold as a perquisite–a relic of the
instability and mutation of human greatness–to William, Baron Bartholdy,
son to the Jewish Plato, Moses Mendelssohn. It is now in the Ashmolean
Museum, Oxford, to which it was presented by Mrs. Maria Graham (since
Calcott), in 1824.

 


APPENDIX. CHAPTER I.RINGS FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD. P. 18.
Counterfeit rings belong to all ages and peoples. Hall, in his ‘Satires,’
says:–
Nor can good Myron weare on his left hand
A signet-ring of Bristol diamond,
But he must cut his glove to show his pride
That his trim jewel might be better spied:
And that men might some burgesse him repute
With sattin sleeves hath graced his sacke-cloth suit.
The punishment of whipping in former days was inflicted on dishonest
traders in rings. In the ‘Diary of Henry Machyn, from 1550 to 1563’
(Camden Society), is the following entry in 1556:–‘The iij day of July
was a man wypyd a-bowtt the post of reformacyon be{f} the standard in
Chepsyd for sellyng of false rynges.’
Fines were also inflicted; in the records of the Goldsmiths’ Company we
find: ‘In 1512 Robert Mayne, for mysworkyng of rings wars (worse) than
sterling v oz and dj, leaves in pledge 2½ dozen of the said rings, pledges
as security for the payments of fines and defaults.’
In the same records we have a curious account for ‘costs in the Chauncerie
for the recoverie of a counterfete Diamant set in a gold ring (8th Edward
IV., 1469),’ which affords an idea of lawyers’ charges in those days:–
£ _s._ _d._
For boat-hire to Westminster and home again for the suit
in the Chancery began in the old warden’s time, for
the recovery of a counterfeit diamond set in a gold
ring 0 0 6
For a breakfast at Westminster spent on our counsel 0 1 6
To Mr. Catesby, serjeant at law, to plead for the same 0 3 4
To another time for boat-hire in and out, and a
breakfast for two days 0 1 6
Again for boat-hire and one breakfast 0 1 0
To the keeper of the Chancery door 0 0 2
To Timothy Fairfax at two times 0 8 4
To Pigott for attendance at two times 0 6 8
To a breakfast at Westminster 7_d._, boat-hire 4_d._ 0 0 11
————
1 3 11
_Pliny’s account of Rings._ P. 25.
Pliny’s remarks on rings are as follow:–‘It was the custom at first to
wear rings on a single finger only–the one, namely, that is next to the
little finger, and thus we see the case in the statues of Numa and Servius
Tullius. In later times it became the practice to put rings on the finger
next to the thumb, even in the case of the statues of the gods; and, more
recently again, it has become the fashion to wear them upon the little
finger as well. Among the peoples of Gallia and Britannia, the middle
finger, it is said, is used for this purpose. At the present day, however,
among us, this is the only finger that is excepted, all others being
loaded with rings, smaller rings even being separately adapted for the
smaller joints of the fingers. Some there are who heap several rings on
the little finger alone; while others, again, wear but one ring on this
finger–the ring that sets a seal on the signet-ring itself; this last
being carefully shut up as an object of rarity, too precious to be worn in
common use, and only to be taken from the cabinet (dactyliotheca) as from
a sanctuary. And thus is the wearing of a single ring upon the little
finger no more than an ostentatious advertisement that the owner has
property of a more precious nature under seal at home. Some, too, make a
parade of the weight of their rings, while to others it is quite a labour
to wear more than one at a time; some, in their solicitude for the safety
of their gems, make the hoop of gold tinsel, and fill it with a lighter
material than gold, thinking thereby to diminish the risk of a fall.
Others, again, are in the habit of enclosing poisons beneath the stones of
their rings, and so wear them as instruments of death. And then, besides,
how many of the crimes that are stimulated by cupidity are committed
through the instrumentality of rings! How happy the times–how truly
innocent–in which no seal was put to anything! At the present day, on the
contrary, our very food even, and our drink, have to be preserved from
theft through the agency of the ring; and so far is it from being
sufficient to have the very keys sealed, that the signet-ring is often
taken from off the owner’s fingers while he is overpowered with sleep, or
lying on his deathbed.’
_Shrewsbury Morse-ivory Thumb-ring._ P. 89.
The coat-of-arms engraved on this ring consists of–‘Quarterly of four: 1.
Talbot, a lion rampant, with a bordure engrailed; 2. Strange, two lions
passant; 3. Neville, a saltire; 4. Verdon, a fret.’
Dr. Iliff observes: ‘The date of the ring appears to me to be about the
middle of the sixteenth century, and it may, therefore, be ascribed to
Francis Talbot, fifth Earl of Shrewsbury of that family, who was elected
K.G. in 1545, and died September 25, 1560.
‘With respect to the quarterings on the ring, I would observe that the
first coat was assumed, as the paternal coat of Talbot, by Sir Gilbert
Talbot (who died in 1298) on marrying Gwenllian, daughter of Rhys Vychan
ap Gruffyd, Lord of North Wales, in lieu of his paternal arms, Bendy of
ten argent and gules. The second quartering (Strange) was brought in by
the marriage of Richard, Lord Talbot, of Eccleswall, Lord Strange, of
Blackmere, in right of his wife Angharad, daughter and heir of John, Lord
Strange. The third and fourth quarterings (Neville and Verdon) were
brought in by the marriage of John Talbot, first Earl of Shrewsbury, of
that family, with Maud, only daughter and heir of Sir Thomas Neville, Lord
Furnival, and great-granddaughter of Thomas de Furnival, Lord of
Sheffield, by Joan, daughter and co-heir of Theobald de Verdon, Baron of
Webley.’
_The Soden Smith Collection of Ancient Rings._
In the splendid collection of rings belonging to Mr. R. H. Soden Smith,
F.S.A. (one hundred and forty specimens of which, dating from various
periods, and commencing with ancient Egyptian, were exhibited at the Loan
Exhibition of Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum, in 1872), are some
fine works of ancient art. I may mention an antique Etruscan gold ring,
with broad oblong bezel, repoussé, with representation of a chimera and
griffin, the sides of the bezel enriched with delicate filigree work. An
antique Etruscan gold ring, terminating in two serpents’ heads, ornamented
with three collars of filigree work. An iron ring (probably Etruscan), the
surface plated with gold, chased with figure of a cock upon a pillar, and
having a gold dot inserted. An antique Græco-Roman gold ring, the hoop
formed of four strands of twisted wire-work, the bezel set with projecting
onyx of four strata. An antique Roman silver pennannular ring, ending in
two serpents’ heads. A Roman ring, of the third century, the bezel set
with a pierced piece of rough emerald, shoulders chased from the solid
with beaded ornament. A silver pennannular ring, of Oriental type,
terminating in ribbed hexagonal knobs. Found with Roman coins, in removing
old London Bridge. An antique Roman bronze key-ring, found at Silchester.
A gold Roman ring, of the third century, very massive, of angular outline,
set with intaglio on nicolo onyx, engraved with a figure of Mercury;
ploughed up in Sussex. A series of five gold antique Roman rings, set with
emeralds, jasper, and sard; some engraved with subjects in intaglio.
Antique Greek rings of gold, hollow, set with sards, vitreous pastes, &c.
An antique Roman bronze ring, plated with gold. An antique Roman silver
ring, the bezel engraved with a hare. Two gold rings of the Lower Empire,
or Byzantine, with projecting bezels; one set with root of emerald, the
other with ribbon onyx.

CHAPTER II.RING SUPERSTITIONS.
_Solomon’s Ring._ P. 93.
In the Koran (chapter xxxvi., ‘revealed at Mecca’), it is stated:–‘We
also tried Solomon, and placed on his throne a counterfeit body.’ In the
chapter on ‘Ring Superstitions’ I have mentioned the fable of Solomon’s
ring. The exposition of the passage in the Koran is taken from the
following Talmudic fiction:–Solomon, having taken Sidon and slain the
king of that city, brought away his daughter Jerâda, who became his
favourite; and because she ceased not to lament her father’s loss, he
ordered the devils to make an image of him for her consolation; which
being done, and placed in her chamber, she and her maids worshipped it
morning and evening, according to their custom. At length Solomon, being
informed of this idolatry, which was practised under his roof by his vizir
Asâf, he broke the image, and, having chastised the women, went out into
the desert, where he wept, and made supplication to God, who did not think
fit, however, to let his negligence pass without some correction. It was
Solomon’s custom, while he washed himself, to trust his signet, on which
his kingdom depended, with a concubine of his, named Amîna. One day,
therefore, when she had the ring in her custody, a devil named Sakhar came
to her in the shape of Solomon, and received the ring from her, by virtue
of which he became possessed of the kingdom, and sat on the throne in the
shape which he had borrowed, making what alterations in the law he
pleased. Solomon, in the meantime, being changed in his outer appearance,
and known to none of his subjects, was obliged to wander about and beg
alms for his subsistence; till at length, after the space of forty days,
which was the time the image had been worshipped in his house, the devil
flew away and threw the ring into the sea, where it was immediately
swallowed by a fish, which being taken and given to Solomon, he found the
ring in its belly, and having by this means recovered the kingdom, took
Sakhar, and, tying a great stone to his neck, threw him into the Lake of
Tiberias.
_Charmed Ring of Sir Edward Neville._ P. 132.
In the Confession of Sir Edward Neville, he alludes thus to the ‘charmed’
ring:–‘William Neville did send for me to Oxford that I should come and
speak with him at “Weke,” and to him I went; it was the first time I ever
saw him; I would I had been buried that day. When I came he took me to a
_littell_ room, and went to his garden, and there demanded of me many
questions, and among all others, asked if it were not possible to have a
ring made which should bring a man in favour with his Prince; “seeing my
Lord Cardinal had such a ring, that whatsoever he asked of the King’s
Grace, that he had; and Master Cromwell, when he and I were servants in my
Lord Cardinal’s house, did haunt to the company of one that was seen in
your faculty; and shortly after, no man so great with my Lord Cardinal as
Master Cromwell was; and I have spoke with all them that has any name in
this realm; and all they showed me that I should be great with my Prince,
and this is the cause that I did send for you, to know whether your saying
will be agreeable to theirs, or no.” And I, at the hearty desire of him,
showed him that I had read many books, and especially the works of
Solomon, and how his ring should be made, and of what metal; and what
virtues they have after the canon of Solomon. And then he desired me
instantly to take the pains to make him one of them; and I told him that I
could make them, but I made never none of them, and I cannot tell that
they have such virtues or no, but by hearing say. Also he asked me what
other works I had read. And I told him that I had read the magical works
of Hermes, which many men doth prize; and thus departed at that time. And
one fortnight after, William Neville came to Oxford, and said that he had
one Wayd at home at his house that did show him more than I did show him;
for the said Wayd did show him that he should be a great lord, nigh to the
parts that he dwelt in. And that in that lordship should be a fair castle;
and he could not imagine what it should be, except it were the castle of
Warwick. And I answered and said to him, that I dreamed that an angel took
him and me by the hands, and led us to a high tower, and there delivered
him a shield, with sundry arms, which I cannot rehearse, and this is all I
ever showed him save at his desire. I went thither with him, and as
concerning any other man, save at the desire of Sir Gr. Done, Knt., I made
the moulds that ye have, to the intent that he should have had Mistress
Elizabeth’s gear.’
_Wedding-ring of the Virgin Mary and Joseph._ P. 93.
In Patrick’s ‘Devotions of the Roman Church’ is a curious account of the
wedding-ring of the Virgin Mary and Joseph. It is there described as of
onyx or amethyst, wherein was discerned a representation of the flowers
that budded on his rod. ‘It was discovered in the year 996 in this
way:–Judith, the wife of Hugo, Marquis of Etruria, being a great lover of
jewels, employed one Ranerius, a skilful jeweller and lapidary of Clusium,
to go to Rome to make purchases for her. There he formed an intimacy with
a jeweller from Jerusalem, who, when Ranerius was about to return home,
professed great affection, and offered him a ring as a pledge of
friendship. Ranerius, looking upon it as of little value, declined it with
a slight compliment; but the jeweller from the Holy Land bade him not
contemn it, for it was the wedding-ring of Joseph and the Blessed Virgin,
and made him take it, with a special charge that it should not fall into
the hands of a wicked person. Ranerius, still careless of what he said,
threw it into a little chest with articles of inferior value, where it
remained until his forgetfulness cost him dear; for when his son was only
ten years old (the number of years that his father disregarded the
Virgin’s ring) the boy died, and was carried to his burial. But, behold,
as the hearse went forward, on a sudden the dead child rose from the
coffin, ordered the bearers to stop, and, calling to his father, told him
that, by favour of the Blessed Virgin, he was come from Heaven to tell him
that, as he had contemned religion by concealing her most holy ring in a
common heap, he must immediately send for it, and publicly produce it,
that it might be openly venerated. The chest being brought and delivered
into the son’s hand, he presently found the ring, although he had never
seen it before; then most reverently kissing it, and showing it to the
spectators, they religiously adored it, during the joyful pealing of the
bells, which rang of their own accord; whereupon, ordering himself to be
carried to the place where he desired to be buried, he delivered the ring
to the curate of the parish, and then, laying himself down in the coffin,
he was interred.–This ring wrought many miracles; ivory ones touched with
it, worn by women in difficult labour, relieved them; an impression of it
in wax, applied to the hip, removed the sciatica; it cured diseases of the
eyes, reconciled married people that quarrelled, and drove out devils.
Five centuries afterwards, in 1473, the church of Musthiola, where it
effected these wonders, becoming ruinous, the ring was deposited with a
religious community of the Franciscans at Clusium. One of the brethren of
the order, named Wintherus, a crafty German, and very wicked, having
obtained from the magistrates an appointment to show the ring, on a
certain occasion, after exhibiting it at the end of his sermon, stooped
down, as if he were putting it into the place provided for it, but instead
of doing so he slipped it up his sleeve, and privily conveyed himself and
the ring from the city across the water. All was well so far, but when he
got into a neighbouring field it suddenly became dark, so that, not
knowing which way to go, but well knowing what was the matter, he hung the
ring on a tree, and, falling on the ground, penitently confessed his sin
to it, and promised to return to Clusium if it would dispel the darkness.
On taking it down it emitted a great light, which he took advantage of to
travel to Perusia, where he sojourned with the Augustin friars, till he
determined on making another effort to carry it into Germany. He was again
hindered by the darkness returning. It infested him and the whole city for
twenty days. Still he resolved not to return to Clusium, but tell his
story in great confidence to his landlord, one Lucas Jordanus, who with
great cunning represented to him his danger from the Clusians, and the
benefits he would receive from the Perusians if he bestowed the ring on
that city. Wintherus followed his advice. As soon as the ring was shown to
the people the darkness disappeared, and Wintherus was well provided for
in the house of the magistrate. Meanwhile the Bishop of Clusium, coming to
Perusia, endeavoured in vain to obtain the relic. The city of Sena sent an
ambassador to resist the claims of the Clusians; he was entertained by the
Perusians with great respect, but they informed him that, having used no
sacrilegious arts to obtain the Blessed Virgin’s ring, they respected her
too much to restore it to the owners; that they received it within their
walls with as much respect as they would do the Ark of the Covenant, and
would defend their holy prize by force of arms. The bereaved Clusians laid
the case before Pope Sixtus IV., and the Perusians did the same. Wintherus
was ordered by the Pope, on the importunity of the Clusians, into closer
confinement; but, as the heat abated, he passed a merry life in Perusia,
and at his death the Franciscans and the canons of St. Lawrence disputed
for the possession of his body. This honour was, in the end, obtained by
the latter, in whose chapel he was buried before an altar dedicated to St.
Joseph and the Virgin, and a monument was erected by the Perusians to the
ring-stealer’s memory, with an inscription which acknowledged that the
receivers were as much indebted to him for it as if it had been his own
property, and he had offered it of his own accord.
In the pontificate of Innocent VIII., A.D. 1486, the arbitration of the
dispute was left to Cardinal Piccolominæus, who adjudged the relic to
Perusia. The important decision was celebrated in that city by every
imaginable expression of joy, and for the greatest honour of the sacred
ring, a chapel was built for it in the church of St. Lawrence, with an
inscription, informing the reader that there the untouched mother, the
Queen of Heaven, and her spouse, were worshipped; that there in the
sanctuary of her wedding-ring she lent a gracious ear to all prayers; and
that he who gave the ring (Wintherus) defended it by his protection. The
pencil was called in to grace the more substantial labours of the
architect. A curious picture represented the High Priest in the Temple of
Jerusalem, taking Joseph and Mary by their hands to espouse them with the
venerated ring; one side of the solemnity was graced by a band of virgins,
the companions of Mary during her education; the other side was occupied
by a company of young men, Joseph’s kinsmen of the house of David, holding
their withered rods. The imagination of the artist employed one of these
in breaking his own rod across his knee, as envious of Joseph’s, which, by
its miraculous budding, had ended the hopes of all who, by the
proclamation, had become candidates for her hand. In addition to this, an
altar was raised and dedicated to St. Joseph; his statue was placed at its
side; his birthday was kept with great pomp; a society of seculars, called
his Fraternity, was instituted to serve in the chapel jointly with the
clergy of St. Lawrence; and on the joint festival of Mary and her spouse
the splendid solemnity was heightened by the solemn exhibition of the
ring, and by a picture of their miraculous nuptials being uncovered to the
eager gaze of the adoring multitude.’
The ring is said by some to have been made of one whole stone, green
jasper or a plasma, hollowed out, and itself forming both hoop and bezel,
unalloyed with any metal.
In Raffaelle’s beautiful picture, _Le Sposalizio_, Mary and Joseph stand
opposite to each other in the centre; the high-priest, between them, is
bringing their right hands towards each other; Joseph, with his right hand
(guided by the priest), is placing the ring on the third finger of the
right hand of the Virgin; beside Mary is a group of the virgins of the
Temple; near Joseph are the suitors, who break their barren wands–that
which Joseph holds in his hand has blossomed into a lily, which, according
to the legend, was the sign that he was the chosen one.
The Rev. C. W. King, in his ‘Handbook of Engraved Gems,’ observes: ‘The
highest glory ever attained by a work of the engraver was that of the
cameo of the Abbey of St. Germain des Prés, which enjoyed for an entire
millennium the transcendent (though baseless) fame of adorning the
espousal-ring of the Virgin Mary, and of preserving the portraits after
the life of herself and Joseph. But, alas! antiquaries have now
remorselessly restored the ownership of gem and portraits to the two
nobodies (probably _liberti_, judging from their names), whose votive
legend, “Alpheus with Aretho,” is but too plainly legible in our
Greek-reading times.’
When the Abbey was destroyed by fire in 1795, this ring, with other
valuables, disappeared; it subsequently came into the hands of General
Hydrow, and from him passed into the Imperial Russian Cabinet.
_Ring of Gyges._ P. 96.
Nizámi, the famous Persian poet, who died in 1209, has a story of a ring
which is a very close version of the ring of Gyges. A hot vapour once rent
the ground, and brought to light in the chasm a hollow horse of tin and
copper with a large fissure in its side. A shepherd saw it, and
discovered in the body an old man asleep, with a gold ring on his finger.
He took it off, and went next morning to his master to learn the value of
his booty; but during his visit he discovered, to his astonishment, that
when he turned the seal towards his palm he became invisible. He
determined to make use of this power, and he proceeded to the palace, and
secretly entered the council-chamber, where he remained unseen. When the
nobles had left it, he revealed himself to the king by this miracle as a
prophet. The king at once took him as his minister, and eventually the
shepherd succeeded him on the throne.
In Reginald Scot’s ‘Discovery of Witchcraft,’ 1665, is given a charm
whereby ‘to go invisible by these three sisters of the fairies,’ Milita,
Achilia, and Sibylia. You are ‘first to go to a fair parlour, or chamber,
and on even ground, and in no loft, and from people nine dayes, for it is
better; and let all thy cloathing be clean and sweet. Then make a candle
of virgin wax and light it, and make a fair fire of charcoles in a fair
place in the middle of the parlour or chamber; then take fair clean water
that runneth against the East, and set it upon the fire, and if thou warm
thyself say these words, going about the fire three times holding the
candle in thy right hand.’ The incantation is too profane to be repeated.
The following is the effect produced: ‘and if they come not the first
night, then do the same the second night, and so the third night, until
they do come, _for doubtless they will so come_; and lie thou in thy bed
in the same parlour or chamber, and lay thy right hand out of the bed, and
look thou have a fair silken kerchief bound about thy head, and be not
afraid, they will do thee no harm; for there will come before thee three
fair women, and all in white cloathing, _and one of them will put a ring
upon thy finger wherewith thou shalt go invisible_. Then with speed bind
her with the bond aforesaid. When thou hast this ring on thy finger, look
in a glass and thou shalt not see thyself. And when thou wilt go
invisible, put it on thy finger, the same finger that they did put it on,
and every new moon renew it again,’ &c.
_The Cruel Knight and the Fortunate Farmer’s Daughter._ P. 99.
‘The Fish and the Ring, or the Cruel Knight, and the Fortunate Farmer’s
Daughter’ (a reprint for William Robinson, Esq., 1843).
In famous York city a farmer did dwell,
Who was belov’d by his neighbours well;
He had a wife that was virtuous and fair,
And by her he had a young child every year.
In seven years six children he had,
Which made their parents’ hearts full glad;
But in a short time, as we did hear say,
The farmer in wealth and stock did decay.
Though once he had riches in store,
In a little time he grew very poor;
He strove all he could, but, alas! could not thrive,
He hardly could keep his children alive.
The children came faster than silver or gold,
For his wife conceiv’d again, we are told,
And when the time came in labour she fell;
But if you would mind an odd story I’ll tell:

A noble rich Knight by chance did ride by,
And hearing this woman did shriek and cry,
He being well learned in the planets and signs,
Did look in the book which puzzled his mind.
The more he did look the more he did read,
And found that the fate of the child had decreed,
Who was born in that house the same tide,
He found it was she who must be his bride;
But judge how the Knight was disturb’d in mind,
When he in that book his fortune did find.

He quickly rode home and was sorely oppressed,
From that sad moment he could take no rest;
At night he did toss and tumble in his bed
And very strange projects came into his head,
Then he resolv’d and soon try’d indeed,
To alter the fortune he found was decreed.
With a vexing heart next morning he rose,
And to the house of the farmer he goes,
And asked the man with a heart full of spite,
If the child was alive that was born last night?

‘Worthy sir,’ said the farmer, ‘although I am poor,
I had one born last night, and six born before;
Four sons and three daughters I now have alive,
They are in good health and likely to thrive.’
The Knight he reply’d, ‘If that seven you have,
Let me have the youngest, I’ll keep it most brave,
For you very well one daughter may spare,
And when I die I’ll make her my heir;
For I am a Knight of noble degree,
And if you will part with your child unto me
Full three thousand pounds I’ll unto thee give
When I from your hands your daughter receive.

The father and mother with tears in their eyes,
Did hear this kind offer and were in surprize;
And seeing the Knight was so noble and gay,
Presented the infant unto him that day.
But they spoke to him with words most mild,
‘We beseech thee, good sir, be kind to our child.’
‘You need not mind,’ the Knight he did say,
‘I will maintain her both gallant and gay.’
So with this sweet babe away he did ride,
Until he came to a broad river’s side.
Being cruelly bent he resolv’d indeed
To drown the young infant that day with speed,
Saying, ‘If you live you must be my wife,
So I am resolved to bereave you of life;
For till you are dead I no comfort can have,
Wherefore you shall lie in a watery grave.’
In saying of this, that moment, they say,
He flung the babe into the river straightway;
And being well pleased when this he had done,
He leaped on his horse, and straight he rode home.
But mind how kind fortune for her did provide,
She was drove right on her back by the tide,
Where a man was a fishing, as fortune would have,
When she was floating along with the wave.
He took her up, but was in amaze;
He kissed her and on her did gaze,
And he having ne’er a child in his life,
He straightway did carry her home to his wife.
His wife was pleased the child to see,
And said, ‘My dearest husband, be ruled by me,
Since we have no children, if you’ll let me alone,
We will keep this and call it our own.’
The good man consented, as we have been told,
And spared for neither silver nor gold,
Until she was over eleven full year,
And then her beauty began to appear.

The fisherman was one day at an inn,
And several gentlemen drinking with him:
His wife sent this girl to call her husband home,
But when she did into the drinking room come,
The gentlemen they were amazed to see
The fisherman’s daughter so full of beauty.
They ask’d him if she was his own,
And he told them the story before he went home:
‘As I was fishing within my bound,
One Monday morning this sweet babe I found;
Or else she had lain within a watery grave;’
And this was the same which now he gave.
The cruel Knight was in the company,
And hearing the fisherman tell his story,
He was vexed at the heart to see her alive,
And how to destroy her again did contrive,
Then spake the Knight, and unto him said,
‘If you will but part with this sweet maid
I’ll give you whatever your heart can devise,
For she in time to great riches may rise.’
The fisherman answered, with a modest grace,
‘I cannot unless my dear wife were in the place,
Get first her consent, you shall have mine of me,
And then to go with you, sir, she is free.’
The wife she did also as freely consent,
But little they thought of his cruel intent;
He kept her a month very bravely they say,
And then he contrived to send them away.

He had a great brother in fair Lancashire,
A noble rich man worth ten thousand a year,
And he sent this girl unto him with speed
In hopes he would act a most desperate deed.
He sent a man with her likewise they say,
And as they did lodge at an inn on the way,
A thief in the house with an evil intent
For to rob the portmanteau immediately went,
But the thief was amazed, when he could not find
Either silver or gold, or aught to his mind,
But only a letter the which he did read
And soon put an end to this tragical deed:
The Knight had wrote to his brother that day,
To take this poor innocent damsel away,
With sword or with poison that very same night,
And not let her live till morning light.
The thief read the letter, and had so much grace
To tear it, and write in the same place,
‘Dear brother, receive this maiden from me,
And bring her up well as a maiden should be;
Let her be esteem’d, dear brother, I pray,
Let servants attend her by night and by day.
For she is a lady of noble worth,
A nobler lady ne’er lived in the north;
Let her have good learning, dear brother, I pray,
And for the same I will sufficiently pay;
And so, loving brother, this letter I send,
Subscribing myself your dear brother and friend.’
The servant and maid were still innocent,
And onward their journey next day they went.
Before sunset to the Knight’s house they came
Where the servant left her, and came home again.
The girl was attended most nobly indeed,
With the servants to attend to her with speed;
Where she did continue a twelvemonth’s space,
Till this cruel Knight came to this place,
As he and his brother together did talk,
He spy’d the young maiden in the garden to walk.
She look’d most beautiful, pleasant, and gay,
Like to sweet Aurora, or the goddess of May.
He was in a passion when he did her spy,
And instantly unto his brother did cry,
‘Why did you not do as in the letter I writ?’
His brother replied, ‘It is done every bit.’
‘No, no,’ said the Knight, ‘it is not so I see,
Therefore she shall back again go with me;’
But his brother showed him the letter that day,
Then he was amazed, but nothing did say.

Soon after the Knight took this maiden away,
And with her did ride till he came to the sea,
Then looking upon her with anger and spite,
He spoke to the maiden and bade her alight.
The maid from the horse immediately went
And trembled to think what was his intent.
‘Ne’er tremble,’ said he, ‘for this hour’s your last;
So pull off your clothes, I command you, in haste.’
This virgin, with tears, on her knees did reply,
‘Oh! what have I done, sir, that now I must die?
Oh! let me but know how I offend
I’ll study each hour my life to amend,
Oh! spare my life and I’ll wander till death,
And never come near you while I have breath.’
He hearing the pitiful moan she did make
Straight from his finger a ring did take,
He then to the maiden these words did say,
‘This ring in the water I’ll now throw away;
Pray look on it well, for the posy is plain,
That you when you see it may know it again.
I charge you for life never come in my sight,
For if you do I shall owe you a spite,
Unless you do bring the same unto me:’
With that he let the ring drop in the sea,
Which when he had done away he did go,
And left her to wander in sorrow and woe.
She rambled all night, and at length did espy
A homely poor cottage, and to it did hie,
Being hungry with cold, and a heart full of grief,
She went to this cottage to seek for relief;
The people reliev’d her, and the next day
They got her to service, as I did hear say,
At a nobleman’s house, not far from this place
Where she did behave with a modest grace.
She was a cookmaid and forgot the time past,
But observe the wonder that comes at last.

As she for dinner was dressing one day,
And opened the head of a cod, they say,
She found such a ring, and was in amaze
And she, in great wonder, upon it did gaze
And viewing it well she found it to be
The very same the Knight dropped in the sea,
She smil’d when she saw it, and bless’d her kind fate,
But did to no creature the secret relate.

This maid, in her place, did all maidens excel,
That the lady took notice, and lik’d her well;
Saying, she was born of some noble degree,
And took her as a companion to be.
The Knight when he came to the house did behold
This beautiful lady with trappings of gold,
When he ask’d the lady to grant him a boon,
And said it was to walk with that virgin alone.
The lady consented, telling the young maid
By him she need not fear to be betrayed.
When he first met her, ‘Thou strumpet,’ said he,
‘Did I not charge thee never more to see me?
This hour’s thy last, to the world bid good night,
For being so bold to appear in my sight.’
Said she, ‘In the sea you flung your ring,
And bid me not see you unless I did bring
The same unto you. Now I have it,’ cries she,
‘Behold, ’tis the same that you flung into the sea.’
When the Knight saw it, he flew to her arms,
And said, ‘Lovely maid, thou hast millions of charms.’
Said he, ‘Charming creature, pray pardon me,
Who often contrived the ruin of thee:
’Tis in vain to alter what heaven doth decree,
For I find you are born my wife to be.’
Then wedded they were, as I did hear say,
And now she’s a lady both gallant and gay,
They quickly unto her parents did haste,
When the Knight told the story of what had passed.
But asked their pardon, upon his bare knee,
Who gave it, and rejoiced their daughter to see.
Then they for the fisherman and his wife sent,
And for their past troubles did them content.
And so there was joy for all them that did see
The farmer’s young daughter a lady to be.

The Rev. C. W. King, in his ‘Handbook of Engraved Gems,’ gives the
following fish-and-ring story. Pietrus Damianus, a very unlikely personage
to have ever read of Polycrates, relates in his Fifth Epistle a story
worth translating literally, as a specimen of the style of thought of his
age:–‘This Arnulphus was the father of King Pepin and grandfather of
Charlemagne, and when, inflamed with the fervour of the Holy Ghost he
sacrificed the love of wife and children, and exchanged the glory and
pomps of this world for the glorious poverty of Christ, it chanced, as he
was hastening into the wilderness, that in his way he had to cross a
river, which is called the Moselle; but when he reached the middle of the
bridge, thrown over it where the river’s stream ran deepest, he tossed in
there his own ring with this protestation, “When I shall receive back,”
said he, “this ring from the foaming waves of this river, then will I
trust confidently that I am loosed from the bonds of all my sins.”
Thereupon he made for the wilderness, where he lived no little space dead
unto himself and the world. Meanwhile, the then Bishop of Metz having
died, Divine Providence raised Arnulphus to the charge of that see.
Continuing in his new office to abstain from eating flesh, according to
the rule observed by him in the wilderness, once upon a time a fish was
brought him for a present. The cook, in gutting the same, found in its
entrails a ring, and ran full of joy to present it to his master; which
ring the blessed Bishop no sooner cast eyes upon than he knew it again for
his own, and wondered not so much at the strange mine that had brought
forth the metal, as that, by the Divine propitiation, he had obtained the
forgiveness of his sins.’

The same distinguished writer, in the work before mentioned, relates the
story told by St. Augustine, bishop of the city where it happened, ‘and
who has deemed it worthy of insertion in his great work, “De Civitate Dei”
(xxii. 8):–“There lived an old man, a fellow-townsman of ours at Hippo,
Florentius by name, by trade a tailor, a religious poor person. He had
lost his cloak and had not wherewith to buy another. Certain ribald youths
who happened to be present overheard him, and followed him as he went
down, mocking at him as though he had demanded of the martyrs the sum of
fifty _folles_ (12½ denarii) to clothe himself withal. But Florentius
walking on without replying to them, espied a big fish thrown up by the
sea, and struggling upon the beach, and he secured it through the
good-natured assistance of the same youths, and sold it for 300 _folles_
(75 denarii) to a certain cook, by name Carthosus, a good Christian, for
pickling, telling him at the same time all that had taken place–intending
to buy wool with the money, so that his wife might make therewith, as well
as she could, something to clothe him. But the cook in cutting up the fish
found in its belly a gold ring, and forthwith, being moved with
compassion, as well as influenced by religious scruples, restored it to
Florentius, saying, ‘Behold how the Twenty Martyrs have clothed thee.’”’

_King Edward’s Ring._ P. 119.

In the ‘Life of Edward the Confessor’ (forming one of the series of the
chronicles and memorials of Great Britain and Ireland, during the Middle
Ages, published by the authority of H.M. Treasury, under the direction of
the Master of the Rolls), Mr. Luard, the editor, has given the translation
of a manuscript in the public library of the University of Cambridge, to
which the date of 1245 is ascribed, and written in Norman-French. The
legend of the Confessor’s ring is thus introduced:–

The King was at the service
Where was dedicated the church
Of Saint John, who to God was dear,
And whom the King could so much love:
No saint had he so dear except Saint Peter.
Lo, a poor man who was there,
A stranger and unknown,
When he saw King Edward,
For the love of Saint John prays him
That of his possession he would give him a part.
The King who hears his prayer,
Puts his hand to his alms-chest,
But neither gold nor silver does he there find.
He bids his almoner to be summoned,
But he was not found for the crowd.
The poor man ceases not to beg
And the King is in distress
Because neither gold nor silver he finds at hand.
And he reflects, remains silent,
Looks at his hand and remembers
That on his finger he had a cherished ring
Which was large, royal, and beautiful;
To the poor man he gives it for the love
Of Saint John, his dear lord;
And he takes it with joy,
And gently gives him thanks;
And when he was possessed of it,
He departed and vanished.
But to this no one paid attention.
Soon after it chanced that
Two palmers of English birth,
Who go to seek the Holy Sepulchre
By a path where no one guides them
In the land of Syria,
Go astray, far out by the way,
See neither man nor house:
Now they have arrived in the wilderness,
The night comes on, the sun sets;
Nor do they know which way to turn,
Nor where they can lodge for the night,
They fear robbers, they fear wild beasts,
They fear monsters and dreadful tempests,
And many an adventure of the desert.
The dark night surprises them.

Now behold a band of youths
In a circle which was very large and beautiful,
By whom the whole road and air
Were lightened as if by lightning,
And an old man white and hoary,
Brighter than the sun at mid-day,
Before whom are carried two tapers,
Which lighten the path;
He, when he comes close to the palmers
Salutes them; says, ‘Dear friends
Whence come you? Of what creed
Are you, and of what birth?
What kingdom and King? What seek you here?’
And one of them answered him,
‘We are Christians, and desire
Have we to expiate our sins;
We are both from England;
We have come to seek the Holy Sepulchre,
And the holy places of this country,
Where Jesus died and lived.
And our King is named Edward,
The good prince, whom may God preserve to us,
He has not such a saint from here to France.
But it has befallen us by mishap
We have lost to-day the company
Which comforts and which guides us,
Nor know we what has become of us.’

And the old man answered there,
Joyously like a clerk,
‘Come after me, I go before;
Follow me, I will conduct you
Where you will find a good hostelry.
For love of King Edward
You shall have lodging and good care,
Your leader I will myself be,
And your host.’ He leads them on;
They enter a city,
They have found a good hostelry,
The table prepared, and good treatment,
Linen and bed, and other preparatives;
The tired ones, who had great need,
Repose themselves after supper.
In the morning, when they depart,
They find their host and leader,
Who, when they have issued from the gate,
Gently thus comforts them.
‘Be not troubled nor sad,
I am John the Evangelist;
For love of Edward the King,
I neither will nor ought to fail you;
For he is my especial
Friend and loyal King.
With me he has joined company,
Since he has chosen to lead a chaste life,
We shall be peers in paradise.
And I tell you, dear good friends,
You shall arrive, be assured,
In your country safe and sound.
You shall go to King Edward,
Salute him from me,
And that you attempt not a falsehood
To say, you shall carry proofs–
A ring, which he will know,
Which he gave to me, John,
When he was at the service
Where my church was dedicated;
There I besought him, for the love
Of John; it was I in poor array.
And let King Edward know well,
To me he shall come before six months (are over).
And since he resembles me,
In paradise shall we be together
And that of this he may be confidently assured
You shall tell him all that whatever I tell you.’

They, who well understand his words,
Give him thanks for all his benefits,
And when they are possessed of the ring
The saint departed and vanished;
And the pilgrims depart,
Who now are on the certain path
Without ill, and without trouble;
The saint leads and conducts them;
They hasten to go to King Edward,
That they have not arrived seems tardy to them,
And they relate their adventure,
Show the ring at once,
Whatever they relate he believes true,
When he sees the proofs;
Of this witness bears the whole
Company, large in numbers.


_Demons imprisoned in Rings._ P. 132.

There was a strong belief that familiar spirits could be carried about in
rings and trinkets. Le Loyer, in his curious work ‘Des Spectres,’ writes:
‘With regard to the demons whom they imprisoned in rings or charms, the
magicians of the school of Salamanca and Toledo, and their master
Picatrix, together with those in Italy who made traffic of this kind of
ware, knew better than to say whether or not they had appeared to those
who had them in possession or bought them. And truly I cannot speak
without horror of those who pretend to such vulgar familiarity with them,
even to speaking of the nature of each particular demon shut up in a ring;
whether he be a Mercurial, Jovial, Saturnine, Martial, or Aphrodisiac
spirit; in what form he is wont to appear when required; how many times in
the night he awakes his possessor; whether benign or cruel in disposition;
whether he can be transferred to another; and if, once possessed, he can
alter the natural temperament, so as to render men of Saturnine complexion
Jovial, or the Jovials Saturnines, and so on. There is no end of the
stories which might be collected under this head, to which, if I gave
faith, as some of the learned of our time have done, it would be filling
my paper to little purpose. I will not speak, therefore, of the crystal
ring mentioned by Joaliun of Cambray, in which a young child could see all
that they demanded of him, and which eventually was broken by the
possessor, as the occasion by which the devil too much tormented him.
Still less will I stay my pen to tell of the sorcerer of Courtray, whose
ring had a demon enclosed in it, to whom it behoved him to speak every
five days.’ By this familiar (remarks Heywood, in his ‘Hierarchie of the
Blessed Angels’) ‘he was not onely acquainted with all newes, as well
forrein as domesticke, but learned the cure and remedie for all griefs and
diseases; insomuch that he had the reputation of a learned and excellent
physition. At length, being accused of _sortilège_, or enchantment, at
Arnham, in Guelderland, he was proscribed, and in the year 1548, the
Chancellor caused his ring, in the public market, to be layd on an anvil
and with an iron hammer to be beaten in pieces. Mengius reporteth from the
relation of a deare friend of his (a man of approved fame and honestie)
this history. In a certain town under the jurisdiction of the Venetians,
one of their præstigious artists (whom some call Pythonickes), having one
of these rings in which he had two familiar spirits exorcised and bound,
came to a predicant or preaching friar, a man of sincere life and
conversation; and confessed unto him that hee was possessed of such an
enchanted ring, with such spirits charmed, with whom he had conference at
his pleasure. But since he considered with himselfe that it was a thing
dangerous to his soule, and abhominable both to God and man, he desired to
be cleanely acquit thereof, and to that purpose hee came to receive of him
some godly counsell. But by no persuasion would the religious man be
induced to have any speech at all with these evil spirits (to which motion
the other had before earnestly solicited him), but admonished him to cause
the magicke ring to be broken, and that to be done with all speed
possible. At which words the familiars were heard (as it were) to mourne
and lament in the ring, and to desire that no such violence might be
offered to them; but rather than so, that it would please him to accept of
the ring, and keepe it, promising to do him all service and vassallage; of
which, if he pleased to accept, they would in a short time make him to be
the most famous and admired predicant in all Italy. But he perceiving the
divels cunning, under this colour of courtesie, made absolute refusall of
their offer; and withall conjured them to know the reason why they would
so willingly submit themselves to his patronage? After many evasive lies
and deceptious answers, they plainly confessed unto him that they had of
purpose persuaded the magition to heare him preach; that by that sermon,
his conscience being pricked and galled, he might be weary of the ring,
and being refused of the one, be accepted of the other; by which they
hoped in short time so to have puft him up with pride and heresie, to have
precipitated his soule into certaine and never-ending destruction. At
which the churchman being zealously inraged, with a great hammer broke the
ring almost to dust, and in the name of God sent them thence to their own
habitation of darknesse, or whither it pleased the highest powers to
dispose them.

‘Of this kind doubtless was the ring of Gyges–such likewise had the
Phocensian tyrant, who, as Clemens Stromæus speaketh, by a sound which
came of itselfe, was warned of all times, seasonable and unseasonable in
which to mannage his affaires; who, notwithstanding, could not be
forewarned of his pretended death, but his familiar left him in the end,
suffering him to be slain by the conspirators. Such a ring, likewise, had
one Hieronimus, Chancellor of Mediolanum, which after proved to be his
untimely ruine.’ [‘Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels.’]

A learned German physician has given an instance in which the devil, of
his own accord, enclosed himself in a ring as a familiar, thereby proving
how dangerous it is to trifle with him.

_Cramp-Rings._ P. 164.

The precise date when the Kings of England commenced to bless rings,
regarded as preservatives against the cramp or against epilepsy, the
_morbus Sancti Johannis_, is uncertain. The earliest mention of the
practice, which Mr. Edmund Waterton has found, occurs in the reign of
Edward II.: ‘The prayer used in the blessing of the ring implores–‘ut
omnes qui eos gestabunt, nec eos infestet vel nervorum contractio, vel
comitialis morbi periculum.’ And the King, to impart this salutary virtue,
rubbed the rings between his hands, with this invocation: ‘Manuum
nostrarum confricatione quas olei sacri infusione externa sanctificare
dignatus es pro ministerii nostri modo consecra,’ &c. Hitherto these rings
are simply described as _annuli_. But in the 44th of Edward III., in the
account-book of John of Ipres, or Ypres, they are termed _medicinales_.’

In the last chapter of the ‘Constitutions of the Household,’ settled in
the reign of Edward II., the following entry appears: ‘Item, le Roi doit
offrer de certein le jour de grant vendredi a crouce v. s. queux il est
accustumez receivre devers lui a la mene le chapelein afair eut anulx a
_donner pur medicine_ az divers gentz.’

In the Eleemosyna Roll of 9th Edward III. the following entry occurs: ‘In
oblacione domini Regis ad crucem de Gneythe die parasceves in capella sua
infra mannerium suum de Clipstone, in precium duorum florencium de
Florencia xiiij. die Aprilis vi. _s._ viij. _d._, et in denariis quos
posuit pro dictis florenciis reassumptis _pro annulis medicinalibus inde_
faciendis, eodem die vi. _s._; summa xii. _s._ viii. _d._’

In the Eleemosyna Roll of 10th Edward III. we have the following entry:
‘In oblacione domini Regis ad crucem de Gneyth in die parasceves apud
Eltham, xxix. die Marcii v. _s._, et pro iisdem denariis reassumptis pro
annulis inde faciendis per manus Domini Johannis de Crokeford eodem die v.
_s._’ And in the following year: ‘In oblacione domini Regis ad crucem de
Gneyth in capella sua in pcho de Wyndesore die parasceves v. _s._, et pro
totidem denariis reassumptis pro annuli inde faciendis v. _s._’

In the accounts of John de Ypres, 44th Edward III., the following entries
are found: ‘In oblacionibus Regis factis adorando crucem in capella sua
infra castrum suum de Wyndesore, die parasceves in pretio trium nobilium
auri et quinque solidorum sterling. xxv. _s._ In denariis solutis pro
iisdem oblacionibus reassumptis pro annulis medicinalibus inde faciendis,
ibidem, eodem die xxv. _s._’

The same entries occur in the 7th and 8th Henry IV.

In the 8th Edward IV. mention occurs that these cramp-rings were made of
silver and of gold, as appears by the following entry: ‘Pro eleemosyna in
die parasceves c. marc., et pro annulis de auro et argento pro eleemosyna
Regis eodem die,’ &c. And a Privy Seal of the next year, amongst other
particulars relates: ‘Item paid for the King’s Good Fryday rings of gold
and silver xxxiii. _l._ vi. _s._ viii. _d._’

Mention of these rings is also found in the Comptroller’s accounts in the
20th Henry VII.

A MS. copy of the Orders of the King of England’s Household, 13th Henry
VIII., 1521-1522, preserved in the National Library at Paris (No. 9,986),
contains ‘the order of the Kinge’s of England, touching his coming to
service, hallowing y{e} crampe rings, and offering and creeping to the
crosse.’ ‘First, the King to come to the closett or to the chappell with
the lords and noblemen wayting on him, without any sworde to bee borne
before him on that day, and there to tarry in his travers till the bishop
and deane have brought forth the crucifix out of the vestry (the almoner
reading the service of the cramp-rings), layd upon a cushion before the
high altar, and then the huishers shall lay a carpet before y{t} for the
King to creepe to the crosse upon: and y{t} done, there shall be a fourme
set upon the carpet before the crucifix, and a cushion layd before it for
the King to kneele on; and the Master of the Jewell house shal be ther
ready with the crampe-rings in a basin or basins of silver; the King shall
kneele upon the sayd cushion before the fourme, and then must the clerke
of the closett bee ready with the booke conteyninge y{e} service of the
hallowing of the said rings, and the almoner must kneel upon the right
hand of the King, holding of the sayd booke; and when y{t} is done the
King shall rise and go to the high altar, where an huisher must be ready
with a cushion to lay for his grace to kneele upon, and the greatest Lord
or Lords being then present shall take the basin or basins with the rings,
and bear them after the King, and then deliver them to the King to offer;
and this done, the Queen shall come down out of the closett or travers
into the chappell with ladies and gentlewomen wayters on her, and creepe
to the crosse; and that done, she shall returne againe into her closett or
travers, and then the ladies shall come downe and creepe to the crosse,
and when they have done, the lords and noblemen shall in likewise.’

A letter from Dr. Thomas Magnus, Warden of Sibthorpe College,
Nottinghamshire, to Cardinal Wolsey, written in 1526, contains the
following curious passage: ‘Pleas it your Grace to wete that M. Wiat of
his goodness sent unto me for a present certaine crampe ringges, which I
distributed and gave to sondery myne acquaintaunce at Edinburghe, amongse
other to M. Adame Otterbourne, who, with one of thayme, releved a mann
lying in the falling sekenes in the sight of myche people; sethenne whiche
tyme many requestes have been made unto me for crampe ringges at my
departing there, and also sethenne my comyng from thennes. May it pleas
your Grace therefore to shew your gracious pleasure to the said M. Wyat,
that some ringges may be kept and sent into Scottelande, whiche, after my
poore oppynnyon shulde be a good dede, remembering the power and operacyon
of thame is knowne and proved in Edinburghe, and that they be gretly
required for the same cause both by grete personnages and other.’

Mr. Edmund Waterton thinks that the illuminated manual which Queen Mary
used at the blessing of the cramp-rings, and which I have mentioned was in
the possession of the late Cardinal Wiseman, was the same from which
Bishop Burnet printed the formula. Mr. Waterton states that on the second
leaf of the MS. the service for the blessing of the rings begins with this
rubric: ‘Certeyne Prayers to be used by the Quene’s Heighnes in the
Consecration of the Cramperings.’

The next rubric is as follows: ‘The Ryngs lyeing in one basin or moo, this
Prayer shall be said over them,’ &c. This is followed by the _Benedictio
Annulorum_, consisting of several short formulas or sentences. Then
another rubric sets forth: ‘These prayers beinge saide, the Queene’s
Heighnes rubbeth the rings betwene her hands, sayinge _Sanctifica Domine
Annulos_,’ &c.

‘Thenne must holly water be caste on the rings, sayeing, _In nomine Patris
et Filii et Spiritus Sancti_, Amen. Followed by two other prayers.’

Miss Strickland claims the blessing of the cramp-rings as the peculiar
privilege of the Queens of England. But her argument falls to the ground
when tested by collateral and official documents.

Mr. Waterton concludes his most interesting article on Royal Cramp-rings
(‘Archæological Journal,’ vol. xxi. pp. 103-113) by stating that he has
been unable to accompany the essay by the representation of any example,
‘but I have never met with a specimen that could with any certainty be
pronounced a royal cramp-ring, neither have I found any description of the
rings made, as the entries state, from the gold and silver coins offered
by the King on Good Friday, and then redeemed by an equivalent sum.
Probably they were plain hoop-rings. In the will of John Baret, of Bury
St. Edmunds, 1463, a bequest is made to “my Lady Walgrave” of a “rowund
ryng of the Kynge’s silvir.” In another part of his will he bequeaths to
“Thomais Brews, esquiyer, my crampe ryng with blak innamel, and a part
silvir and gilt.” And, in 1535, Edmund Lee bequeaths to “my nece Thwarton
my gold ryng w{t} a turkes, and a crampe ryng of gold w{t} all.”

‘But there is no evidence to show that the second ring mentioned by John
Baret was a royal cramp-ring; whereas it appears to me that the one
bequeathed by Edmund Lee may have been one of the royal cramp-rings, for
otherwise a more particular description would have been given.’

An interesting account of ‘the ceremonies of blessing cramp-rings on Good
Friday, used by the Catholic Kings of England,’ will be found in Pegge’s
‘Curialia Miscellanea’ (Appendix No. 3, p. 164).

It is curious that in Somersetshire the ring-finger is thought to have the
power of curing any sore or wound that is rubbed with it.


CHAPTER V. BETROTHAL AND WEDDING-RINGS. P. 275.
I should not omit to mention the famous sermon of good Jeremy Taylor on ‘a
wedding-ring for the finger,’ which is worthy the perusal not only of
those who have entered the matrimonial life, but of others who contemplate
an entrance into the same. The text is (Genesis ii. 18), ‘And the Lord God
said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an
help-meet for him.’ Although no allusion is made to the substantial
character of the nuptial circle, yet the deductions made from the text are
the sweetest and the holiest that could be imagined, and the brightest
jewels of the mineral world could not exceed in beauty the language of the
grand old divine. ‘When thou layest out for such a good upon earth, look
up to the God of heaven. Let Him make his choice for thee, who hath made
this choice of thee. Look _above_ you before you look _about_ you.’ ‘Give
God the tribute of your gratulation for your good companion. Take heed of
paying your rent to a wrong landlord. When you taste of the stream,
reflect on the spring that feeds it. Now thou hast four eyes for thy
speculation, four hands for thy operation, four feet for thy ambulation,
and four shoulders for thy sustentation. What the sin against the Holy
Ghost is in point of divinity, that is unthankfulness in point of
morality; an offence unpardonable. _Pity it is but that moon should ever
be in an eclipse, that will not acknowledge her beams to be borrowed from
the sun._ He that praises not the giver, prizes not the gift.’ ‘_It is
between a man and his wife in the house, as it is between the sun and the
moon in the heavens; when the greater light goes down, the lesser light
gets up; when the one ends in setting, the other begins in shining._

‘Husband and wife should be as the milch-kine, which were coupled together
to carry the ark of God; or as the two Cherubims, that looked one upon
another, and both upon the mercy-seat; or as the two tables of stone, on
each of which were engraven the laws of God. In some families married
persons are like Jeremiah’s two baskets of figs, the one very good, the
other very evil; or like fire and water, whilst the one is flaming in
devotion, the other is freezing in corruption. There is a two-fold
hindrance in holiness: first, on the right side; secondly, on the left. On
the right side, when the wife would run in God’s way, the husband will not
let her go; when the fore-horse in a team will not draw, he wrongeth all
the rest; when the general of an army forbids a march, all the soldiers
stand still.’ ‘Man is an affectionate creature. Now the woman’s behaviour
should be such towards the man, as to require his affection by increasing
his delectation; _that the new-born love may not be blasted as soon as it
is blossomed, that it may not be ruined before it be rooted_.’ ‘Husband
and wife should be like two candles burning together, which make the house
more lightsome; or like two fragrant flowers bound up in one nosegay, that
augment its sweetness; or like two well-tuned instruments, which, sounding
together, make the more melodious music.’ ‘A spouse should be more careful
of her children’s breeding than she should be fearful of her children’s
bearing. _Take heed lest these flowers grow in the devil’s garden._’
‘_Good education is the best livery you can give them living; and it is
the best legacy you can leave them when dying._’ ‘Let these small pieces
of timber be hewed and squared for the celestial building; by putting a
_sceptre of grace_ into their hands, you will set _a crown of glory_ upon
their heads.’ ‘Marriages are styled _matches_, yet amongst those many that
are married, how few are there that are _matched_! Husbands and wives are
like locks and keys, that rather break than open, except the wards be
answerable.’


CHAPTER VI.RING TOKENS.
_The Essex Ring._ P. 336.
The story of the ring given by Queen Elizabeth to the Earl of Essex is of
such romantic interest that it is sad to destroy the charm by casting
doubts on its authenticity; but, at the present day especially, a crucial
test is applied to numbers of similar instances, and ‘historic doubts’
crop up incessantly, with which heretofore no profane hand was expected to
meddle. The story of the Essex ring-token has been investigated with great
care by a writer in the ‘Edinburgh Review’ (No. 200), who says: ‘Whatever
might be the supposed indignation of Elizabeth against her dying cousin,
Lady Nottingham, it is clear that as the real offender was Lord
Nottingham, he would naturally have more shared in her displeasure; and it
is very improbable that a fortnight after the Queen had shaken the
helpless wife on her death-bed, the husband, by whose authority the
offence was committed, should have continued in undiminished favour. The
existence of the ring would do but little to establish the truth of the
story, even if but one had been preserved and cherished as the identical
ring; but as there are two, if not three, which lay claim to that
distinction, they invalidate each other’s claims. One is preserved at
Hawnes, in Bedfordshire, the seat of the Rev. Lord John Thynne; another is
the property of C. W. Warren, Esq.; and we believe the third is deposited
for safety at Messrs. Drummond’s bank.

‘The ring at Hawnes is said to have descended in unbroken succession from
Lady Frances Devereux (afterwards Duchess of Somerset) to the present
owner. The stone in this ring is a sardonyx, in which is cut in relief a
head of Elizabeth, the execution of which is of a high order. That the
ring has descended from Lady Frances Devereux, affords the strongest
presumptive evidence that it was not _the_ ring. According to the
tradition, it had passed from her father into Lady Nottingham’s hands.
According to Lady Elizabeth Spelman, Lord Nottingham insisted upon her
keeping it.

In her interview with the Queen, the Countess might be supposed to have
presented to her the token she had so fatally withheld; or it might have
remained in her family, or have been destroyed; but the most improbable
circumstance would have been its restoration to the widow or daughter of
the much-injured Essex by the offending Earl of Nottingham. The Duchess of
Somerset left a long, curious, and minute will, and in it there is no
mention of any such ring. If there is good evidence for believing that the
curious ring at Hawnes was ever in the possession of the Earl of Essex,
one might be tempted to suppose that it was the likeness of the Queen, to
which he alludes in his letters as his “fair angel,” written from Portland
Road, and the time of his disgrace after the proceedings in the Star
Chamber, and when still under restraint at Essex House. Had Essex at this
time possessed any ring, a token, by presenting which he would have been
entitled to favour, it seems most improbable that he should have kept it
back, and yet regarded this likeness of the Queen, whose gracious eyes
encouraged him to be a petitioner for himself. The whole tone of this
letter is in fact almost conclusive against the possibility of his having
in his possession any gift of hers endowed with such rights as that of the
ring which the Countess of Nottingham is supposed to have withheld.’

CHAPTER IX.CUSTOMS AND INCIDENTS IN CONNECTION WITH RINGS.
_Wedding of the Adriatic._ P. 419.
In Richard Lassel’s ‘Voyage of Italy’ is an account of the performance of
this ceremony at Venice, about the year 1650. ‘I happened to be at Venice
thrice at the great sea Triumph, or feast of the Ascension, which was
performed thus: About our eight in the morning the Senators, in their
scarlet robes, meet at the Doge’s Pallace, and there, taking him up, they
walk with him processionally unto the shoar, where the Bucentoro lyes
waiting them; the Pope’s Nuncio being on his right hand, and the Patriarch
of Venice on his left hand. Then, ascending into the Bucentoro by a
handsome bridge thrown out to the shoar, the Doge takes his place, and the
Senators sit round about the galley as they can, to the number of two or
three hundred. The Senate being placed, the anchor is weighed, and the
slaves being warned by the Captain’s whistle, and the sound of trumpets,
begin to strike all at once with their oars, and to make the Bucentoro
march as gravely upon the water as if she also went upon cioppini (high
shoes then worn by the Venetian ladies). Thus they steer for two miles
upon the Laguna, while the music plays and sings Epithalamiums all the way
long, and makes Neptune jealous to hear Hymen called upon in his
Dominions. Round about the Bucentoro flock a world of Piottas and
Gondolas, richly covered overhead with sumptuous Canopies of silks and
rich stuffs, and rowed by watermen in rich liveries as well as the
Trumpeters. Thus forrain Embassadors, divers noblemen of the country and
strangers of condition, wait upon the Doge’s gally, all the way long both
coming and going. At last the Doge, being arrived at the appointed place,
throws a Ring into the sea, without any other ceremony than by saying,
_Desponsamus te, Mare; in signum perpetui dominii_. _We espouse thee, O
Sea, in Testimony of our perpetual dominion over thee_; and so returns to
the Church of St. Nicolas, in Lio (an Island hard by), where he assists at
High Mass with the Senate. This done, he returns home again in the same
state, and invites those that accompanied him in his gally to dinner in
his Pallace, the preparations of which dinner we saw before the Doge was
got home.’
By the kindness of Mr. Octavius Morgan, F.R.S., Vice-President of the
Antiquarian Society, &c., I am enabled to reproduce in the present work a
privately-printed tract by that eminent antiquarian, which will be found
of great utility to ring-collectors generally.

CLASSIFICATION FOR THE ARRANGEMENT OF A COLLECTION OF FINGER-RINGS.
The Rings are divided into Two Grand Chronological Classes.
Class I. ANTIQUE, comprising all European Rings prior to the year A.D.
800, when the Empire of Charlemagne was established in Europe, and England
was united under one Sceptre, and all Oriental Rings prior to the Hedjira,
A.D. 622, or prior to the Mussulman Conquest of the various countries.

Class II. MEDIEVAL AND MODERN, comprising all Rings subsequent to those
dates.
Each Ring in the Collection should have a small label or ticket, of card
or parchment, attached to it, bearing on one side the special letters
belonging to the group, and on the other its number in the group; thus any
Ring removed from the Collection, when once so arranged, can be easily
restored to its proper group and place.
The letters O and Y (Nos. 15 and 25) are left vacant in case any collector
should desire to make or add any other group.
CLASS I.–ANTIQUE.
Arranged according to the various nations in the order of their antiquity
or pre-eminence.
1 A Egyptian.
2 B Assyrian.
3 C Babylonian.
4 D Phœnician.
5 E Hebrew.
6 F Greek.
7 G Etruscan.
8 H Roman.
9 I Early Christian.
10 J Byzantine.
11 K Hindoo.
12 L Persian.
13 M Sassanian.
14 N Gnostic.
15 O
16 P Celtic.
17 Q Scandinavian.
18 R Teutonic.
19 S Gaulish.
20 T Frankish (_Merovingian_).
21 U Ancient British.
22 V Ancient Scotch.
23 W Ancient Irish.
24 X Anglo-Saxon (_Early_).
25 Y
26 Z Unascertained and Miscellaneous.

CLASS II.–MEDIEVAL AND MODERN.
DIVIDED INTO OFFICIAL AND PERSONAL.
_OFFICIAL._
ECCLESIASTICAL.

27 =A= Rings of Popes, or with Papal insignia.

28 =B= Rings of Cardinals, or with Cardinals’ insignia.

29 =C= Rings of Archbishops or Bishops, or with Episcopal
insignia.

30 =D= Rings of Abbots and Priors, or Abbesses or Prioresses.

31 =E= Rings of other Ecclesiastical Dignitaries.

CIVIL.
32 =F= Rings bearing the insignia of Sovereigns, not being
Signet Rings.

33 =G= Rings of Investiture.

34 =H= Credential Rings.

35 =I= Presentation Rings (_Sergeants_).

36 =K= Masonic Rings.

MILITARY.

37 =L= Rings worn by Knights of various orders.
Knights of Malta.
” Templars.
” St. John of Jerusalem.

_PERSONAL._

SIGNET RINGS.

38 =a= Heraldic, with Coats of Arms or Badges.

39 =b= Merchants’ Marks.

40 =c= Crowned Letters or Devices.

41 =d= Letters without Crowns.

42 =e= Other Devices.

43 =f= Persian, Cufic, and Arabic, with names.

44 =g= Antique Intagli in Medieval settings.


LOVE, BETROTHAL, AND MARRIAGE.

45 =h= Tokens of Love.

46 =i= Posy Rings.

47 =j= Giardinetti.

48 =k= Betrothal Rings.

49 =l= Gimmal Rings.

50 =m= Marriage Rings.

51 =n= Jewish Nuptial Rings.


MOURNING AND MEMORIAL RINGS.

52 =o= Rings with Hair.

53 =p= Rings with Portraits.

54 =q= Rings with Memorial Devices and Inscriptions.

55 =r= Rings with Emblems of Death.


HISTORICAL RINGS.

56 =s= Rings used by, or belonging to, Historical Persons.

57 =t= Rings commemorating Historical Events.

58 =u= Rings emblematical of particular Persons, Events, or
Countries.


RELIGIOUS.

59 =v= Devotional (_Decade_).

60 =w= Rings bearing Religious Devices or Inscriptions.

61 =x= Rings bearing Figures or Emblems of Saints.

62 =y= Pilgrims’ Rings (_Jerusalem, Mount Serrat, &c._).

63 =z= Rings for containing Reliques.


CHARM, MAGIC, AND MEDICINAL.

64 =a a= Cramp Rings.

65 =b b= Rings with Toadstones or other substances believed to
possess medicinal virtues.

66 =c c= Astrological and Cabalistic Rings.

67 =d d= Talismanic, with Cufic, Arabic, and Gnostic Inscriptions.

68 =e e= Poison Rings.


ORNAMENTAL RINGS.

69 =f f= Rings with Precious Stones, according to their kind.

70 =g g= Rings set with enamels, paste, or other ornaments,
having no special meaning.

71 =h h= Peasants’ Rings.

72 =i i= ASIATIC, including Modern Persian, Hindoo, and
Chinese.

73 =k k= AFRICAN.

74 =l l= MISCELLANEOUS RINGS, which group will contain all
such as cannot be brought under the other heads of
classification, such as whistle-rings, puzzle-rings,
squirt-rings, jointed rings to form devices, rings with
watches, dials, compasses, &c.

75 =m m= Rings made of strange and unusual materials, not being
metal.

76 =n n= Unascertained.


_Additional Note._

In the chapter on ‘Memorial and Mortuary Rings’ (page 378), I have related
the circumstance of an Arabian princess in Yemen, who had been buried with
her rings and other jewels; a tablet recording that she had vainly
endeavoured to exchange them for flour during the great famine mentioned
in the Holy Scriptures.

A singular incident of this character is stated in Forbes’s ‘India’ (vol.
ii. p. 18): ‘The present finest mausoleum in Cambaya was erected to the
memory of a Mogul of great rank, who, during a famine which almost
depopulated that part of the country, _offered a measure of pearls for an
equal quantity of grain_; but not being able to procure food at any price,
he died of hunger, and this history is related on his monument.’
FOOTNOTES:

[1] In 1841 Mr. Joseph Bonomi read a paper before the Royal Society of
Literature on an ancient signet-ring of gold, resembling in every respect,
except the name of the king, the ring which Pharaoh put on the finger of
Joseph. The account of its purchase, loss, and subsequent recovery is very
interesting. It was bought by Lord Ashburnham at Cairo in 1825. In the
spring of the same year his Lordship embarked a valuable collection on
board a brig he had chartered at Alexandria, to carry his heavy baggage to
Smyrna. This was attacked and pillaged by Greek pirates, who sold their
booty in the island of Syra. The ring then became the property of a Greek
merchant, in whose possession it remained until it was sold at
Constantinople, and was brought to England in 1840. It then passed from
the hands of Mr. Bonomi into those of Lord Ashburnham, its former
possessor. It is conjectured, from evidence peculiar to Egyptian
antiquities, that this ring belonged to the age of Thothmes III.
In the winter of 1824 a discovery was made in Sakkara of a tomb enclosing
a mummy entirely cased in solid gold (each limb, each finger of which had
its particular envelope inscribed with hieroglyphics), a scarabæus
attached to a gold chain, a gold ring, and a pair of bracelets of gold
with other valuable relics. This account was wrested from the excavators
_à coups de bâton_ administered by Mohammed Defterdar Bey, by which means
were recovered to Signor Drovetti (at whose charge the excavation was
made) the scarabæus and gold chain, a fragment of the gold envelope, and
the bracelets, now in the Leyden Museum, which bear the same name as this
ring. From the circumstance of the bracelets bearing the same name as this
ring, and from the word Pthah, the name of the tutelar divinity of Memphis
(of which city Sakkara was the necropolis) being also inscribed upon it,
there is little doubt it was found in that place, and, from the confession
of the Arabs, a great probability that it came out of the same excavation.
The discovery of so much gold in a single tomb, which, from the nature of
the ornaments, must have belonged to the Pharaoh himself, or to a
distinguished officer of his household, accords well with Mr. Cory’s
system of chronology, which places the death of the patriarch Joseph in
the twenty-first year of the reign of Thothmes III., at which period the
treasury of Pharaoh must have been well stored with the precious material
of these ornaments accumulated by the prudent administration of the
patriarch. Assuming, therefore, that Mr. Cory’s system is correct, this
ring may be regarded, not only as an excellent specimen of that kind
called Tabát (a word still used in Egypt to signify a stamp or seal), but
also as resembling in every respect, excepting the name, the ring which
Pharaoh put on the hand of Joseph.

[2] Mr. Layard, in ‘Nineveh and Its Remains,’ describes the wife of an
Arab Sheikh, whom he met, as having a nose adorned with a prodigious gold
ring, set with jewels of such ample dimensions that it covered her mouth,
and was obliged to be removed when she ate.

[3] The Egyptians made the scarabæus the symbol of the world, because it
rolled its excrements into a globe; of the sun; of the moon, from horns;
one-horned, of Mercury; of generation, because it buried the bowls in
which it included its eggs, &c.; of an only son, because they believed
that every beetle was male and female; of valour, manly power, &c., whence
they forced all the soldiers to wear a ring upon which a beetle was
engraved. All these superstitions are very ancient, for they occur upon
the sepulchres of Biban-el-Molook, and are traced to the Indians,
Hottentots, and other nations. In the hieroglyphs it is used for the
syllable _Khepra_, and expresses the verb ‘to be, exist.’ In connection
with Egyptian notions, the Gnostics and some of the Fathers called Christ
the Scarabæus.

‘The usual mode of mounting the scarab,’ observes the Rev. C. W. King, in
‘Antique Gems,’ ‘as a finger-ring, was, the _swivel_, a wire as a pivot
passing through the longitudinal perforation of the stone (the edge of
which was generally protected by a gold rim), and then brought through
holes in each end of a bar of gold, or else of a broad, flat band of
plaited wire, and bent into a loop of sufficient size to admit the finger,
which was usually the fore-finger of the left hand. For the sake of
security, the ends of the loop were formed into small disks, touching each
extremity of the scarabæus. This loop, or ring shank, as it may be
considered, was treated in a great variety of fashions, and sometimes was
made extremely ornamental. One that I have seen terminated in rams’ heads,
the pivot entering the mouth of each; in another the shank was formed as a
serpent, the head of which was one of the supporting points, and the tail
tied into a knot. Occasionally the form of the shank was varied by bending
the bar upon itself, so as to form a bow in the middle of its length; the
ends were then beaten to a point, which, being twisted inwards, passed
into the opposite holes of the stone, and thus formed a handle to the
signet. This last manner of mounting the scarabæus was often used by the
Egyptians, the shank being made of every kind of metal; it was also the
common setting of the Phœnician stones of this form.’

[4] Appendix.

[5] Cellini, in his ‘Memoirs,’ says that Pope Clement VII. showed him a
gold Etruscan necklace of exquisite workmanship, which had just been
discovered in the ground. On examining it, ‘Alas,’ cried he, ‘it is better
not to imitate these Etruscans, for we should be nothing but their humble
servants. Let us rather strike out a new path, which will, at least, have
the merit of originality.’

[6] Appendix.

[7] Addison remarks that when at Rome he had ‘seen old Roman rings so very
thick about, and with such large stones in them, that it is no wonder a
fop should reckon them a little cumbersome in the summer season of so hot
a climate.’

A Roman ring found in Hungary contained more than two ounces of gold.

[8] ‘As soon as the despotic power of the Cæsars was established,’ remarks
the Rev. C. W. King (‘Handbook of Engraved Gems’), ‘it became a mark of
loyalty to adorn either one’s house, or one’s hand, with the visible
presence of the sovereign. Capitolinus notices that the individual was
looked upon as an impious wretch, who, having the means, did not set up at
home a statue of M. Aurelius; and, a century later, the Senate obliged by
an edict every householder to keep a picture of the restorer of the
Empire, Aurelian. That official swore such portraits in their rings as an
indispensable mark of distinction may be deduced from the negotiations of
Claudius (preserved by Pliny) confining the _entrée_ at court to such as
had received from him a gold ring having the imperial bust carved on it.’

[9] Xenophon, in his ‘Economics,’ states that the Greek matrons had the
power of sealing up, or placing the seal upon the house-goods, and at
Rome, Cicero’s mother was accustomed to enhance to consumers the merits of
some poor thin wine, _vile Sabinum_, by affixing to each amphora her
official signet.

It appears that the women of Greece did not use the ring as frequently as
the men, and that theirs were less costly.

[10] Amber rings were worn in our own country to a late date; thus Swift,
writing to Pope respecting Curll and the ‘Dunciad,’ says:–‘Sir, you
remind me of my Lord Bolingbroke’s ring; you have embalmed a gnat in
amber.’

[11] At the exhibition of antiquities and works of art at the
Archæological meeting of January 5, 1849, Major Ker Macdonald produced a
ring supposed to be a recent imitation of the ring of Ethelwulf.

[12] I am much indebted to Mr. R. H. Soden Smith, F.S.A.–a gentleman so
distinguished in art circles, and the possessor of a remarkably fine and
rare collection of rings–for information on some points connected with
this work.

[13] There is the well-known anecdote of Francis the First, who, in order
to let the Duchess d’Estampes know that he was jealous, wrote with a
diamond these lines on a pane of glass, ‘which,’ says Le Vieil, in his
‘Peinture sur Verre,’ ‘may be still seen in the Château Chambord’:–

Souvent femme varie,
Mal habil qui s’y fie.

A similar story is recorded of Henry the Fourth of France and the Duke of
Montpensier. The latter had written with his diamond ring on a pane of
glass the following, in allusion to his love for the aunt of the King:–

Nul bonheur me contente,
Absent de ma Divinité.

Henry, in the same manner, wrote under it:–

N’appellez pas ainsi ma tante,
Elle aime trop l’Humanité.

It was on the pane of a window in Hampton Court Palace that, during one of
the festivals given there by Henry the Eighth, the ill-fated Earl of
Surrey wrote with his diamond ring the name of fair Geraldine, and in
quaint verse commemorated her beauty.

[14] Calmet, in his ‘Dictionary,’ states that the Arabian princesses wore
golden rings on their fingers, to which little bells were suspended, as
well as in the flowing tresses of their hair, that their superior rank
might be known, and that they might receive in passing the homage due to
them.

[15] Montfaucon, in his ‘L’Antiquité Expliquée,’ describes the
representation of a trading seal ‘as one of the most extraordinary that
has yet been seen.’ It was given to him by a monk of St. Victor, at
Marseilles. The form was oblong, and the inscription was in three lines,
the first of which is P. Hileyi, Publii Hileyi, at the end of which words
was a well-formed _caduceus_. The second and third lines were Sex. Maci
Paullini, Sexti Maci Paullini. The _caduceus_, which was a symbol of
traffic, denotes that these were two merchants and co-partners, and the
anchor, that they were adventurers by sea. One thing remarkable is that
the first name, P. Hileyi, was taken by design, but yet so that it might
be read; the letters being cut very deep, they contented themselves with
taking out so much of them only as would spoil that part of the impression
upon wax, or any other matter, and leave the other name to be impressed
alone. That this was done by design appeared from the varnish seen in
these traces, as well as in the rest of the seal, and was probably done by
Sextus Macius Paullinus at the death of his partner Publius Hileyus.

[16] Appendix.

[17] Chaucer, in his ‘Squire’s Tale,’ says:–

‘Then speaken they of Canace’s ring
And saiden all that such a wondrous thing
Of crafte of ringès heard they never none,
Save that he, Moses, and King Solomon
Hadden a name of cunning in such art.’

[18] Among the Mohammedans at present a talisman, consisting generally of
a formula on a scrap of paper, or sentences from the Koran, is placed in a
piece of stuff and put into a ring between the stone and the metal.
Although the Mussulman doctors generally concur in considering these
practices vain, and many Asiatics do not use them, yet the multitude still
retain a predilection for them.

[19] Appendix.

[20] Appendix.

[21] Plato relates the story of Gyges differently to that by Herodotus. He
tells us that Gyges wore a ring, the stone of which, when turned towards
him rendered him invisible, so that he had the advantage of seeing others
without being seen himself. By means of this ring he deprived Candaules of
his throne and life, with the concurrence of the queen. ‘This,’ remarks
Rollin, ‘probably implies that in order to compass his own criminal design
he used all the tricks and stratagems which the world calls subtle and
refined policy, which penetrates into the most secret purposes of others
without making the least discovery of its own.’ This story, thus
explained, carries in it a greater appearance of truth than what we read
in ‘Herodotus.’

Cicero, after relating the fable of Gyges’ famous ring, adds, that if a
wise man had such a ring he would not use it to any wicked purpose,
because virtue considers what is honourable and just, and has no occasion
for darkness.

[22] See chapter on ‘Customs and Incidents in Connexion with Rings.’

[23] Dr. Gordon, in his ‘History of Glasgow,’ quotes the legend thus, from
the ‘Aberdeen Breviary:’–‘The Queen of Cadzow was suspected by her
husband, King Roderick, of being too intimate with a knight whom he had
asked to hunt with him. The King waited his opportunity to abstract from
the satchel of the knight, when asleep, a ring which the Queen had
presented to him. King Roderick, in furious jealousy, threw it into the
Clyde. When they returned to the palace of Cadzow from the day’s hunting,
the King, in the course of the evening, asked her where her ring was. It
could not be produced. Death was threatened if it were not forthcoming.
The Queen sent one of her maids to the knight for the ring, and being
unsuccessful, a bearer was sent to _Cathures_ (Glasgow), to St Mungo,
making a full confession of all. The Apostle of Strathclyde commiserated
the Queen. Forthwith he sent one of his monks to the river to angle,
instructing him to bring home alive the first fish that he caught. This
was done. St. Mungo (_dear friend_) found the annulet in the mouth of the
miraculous fish, and speedily sent it to the Queen, who restored it to her
husband, and thereby saved her life.’

[24] Appendix.

[25] ‘A Berril,’ observes Aubrey in his ‘Miscellanies,’ ‘is a kind of
crystal that hath a weak tincture of red. In this magicians see visions.
There are certain formulas of prayers to be used before they make the
inspection which they term a _Call_. In a manuscript of Dr. Forman, of
Lambeth (which Mr. Elias Ashmole had), is a discourse of this and the
prayer; also there is a Call which Dr. Napier did use. James Harrington
(author of “Oceana”) told me that the Earl of Denbigh, then ambassador at
Venice, did tell him that one did show him three several times, in a
glass, things past and to come. When Sir Marmaduke Langdale was in Italy
he went to one of these Magi, who did show him a glass where he saw
himself kneeling before a crucifix.’ A ‘Berrill’ belonging to Sir Edward
Harley is thus described by Aubrey:–‘It is a perfect sphere; the diameter
of it I guess to be something more than an inch; _it is set in a ring_ or
circle of silver resembling the meridian of a globe; the stem of it is
about ten inches high, all gilt. At the four quarters of it are the names
of four angels, viz., Uriel, Raphael, Michael, Gabriel. On the top is a
cross _patée_. This, it appears, was efficacious in detecting thieves; it
also forewarned death.’

Dr. Dee’s famous crystal, now in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, will be
remembered. (See discoveries in the tomb of Childeric, at Tournay, in
chapter on ‘Memorial and Mortuary Rings.’)

[26] The superstitious custom of carrying the medals of Alexander the
Great, as if they had some salutary virtue in them, was frequent among the
Christians of Antioch, as is evident from St. John Chrysostom’s
declamation against the practice:–‘What shall we say of those that use
enchantments and ligatures, and bind upon their head and feet brass medals
of Alexander of Macedon? Are these our hopes? And shall we, after the
passion and death of our Saviour, place our salvation in an image of a
heathen king?’

[27] Montfaucon, in his ‘L’Antiquité Expliquée,’ has a singular theory in
regard to the signs of the Zodiac. He mentions a fine gem on which were
represented the figures of Mercury, Jupiter, and Venus, included in a
large circle which contained the twelve signs of the Zodiac. These he
conjectured to signify the days of the week, Wednesday, Thursday, and
Friday. ‘But, why,’ he observes, ‘do the three gods in this image indicate
so many days of the week? Some ancient and particular custom is referred
to and expressed, without doubt. Ausonius, in his “Eclogues,” inserts a
verse current in his time preceded by this question:–“Quid quoque die
demi de corpore oporteat?” On what days is it most proper to cut the
beard, nails, or hair? “Ungues Mercurio, barbam Jove, Cypride crines.”
That is, on Wednesday pare your nails, shave your beard on Thursday, and
on Friday cut your hair. This usage Ausonius rallies in eight pleasant
verses. “Mercury,” says he, “a pilferer by trade, loves his nails too well
to let them be pared. Jupiter, venerable by his beard, Venus adorned by
her hair, are by no means willing to part with what is so dear to
them.”… I think it certain that these deities are represented as
presiding over Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, without being able to
assign the certain reason why they are pictured upon this gem.’

A very extraordinary form of oath, by which the astronomer Vettius Valens
bound his disciples to secresy, is quoted by Selden. ‘I adjure thee, most
honoured brother and your fellow-students, by the starry vault of heaven,
_by the circle of the zodiac_, the sun, the moon, and the five wandering
stars (by which universal life is governed), by Providence itself, and
Holy Necessity, that you will keep these things secret, nor divulge them
except to those who are worthy and are able to make a just compensation to
me, Valens.’

[28] According to the ancient lapidaries, a ram with the half-figure of an
ox, or any stone set in a silver ring, whoever was touched with should be
immediately reconciled. A woman, one half a fish, holding a mirror and a
branch, cut on a marine hyacinth (pale sapphire), set in a gold ring, the
signet covered with wax, procured any desire. A man ploughing, and over
him the hand of the Lord making a sign, and star, if cut on any stone, and
worn in all purity, ensured safety from tempest and immunity to crops from
storms. Head, with neck, cut in green jasper; set in a brass or iron ring
engraved with the letters B. B. P. P. N. E. N. A.: wear this, and thou
shalt in no wise perish, but be preserved from many diseases, especially
fever and dropsy; it likewise gives good luck in fowling. Thou shalt be
reasonable and amiable in all things; in battle and in law-suits thou
shalt be victor. Man standing and tall, holding an obolus (patera) in one
hand and a serpent in the other, with the sun over his head, and a lion at
his feet: if cut on a diacordius (diadochus) set in a leaden ring and put
underneath wormwood and fenugreek, carry it to the bank of a river and
call up whatsoever evil spirit thou pleasest, and thou shalt have from
them answers to all thy questions. A youth having a crown on his head and
seated on a throne with four legs, and under each leg a man standing and
supporting the throne on his neck; round the neck of the seated figure a
circle, and his hands raised up to heaven; if cut on a white hyacinth
(pale sapphire) ought to be set in a silver ring of the same weight as the
stone, and under it put mastic and turpentine; make the seal in wax and
give it to any one, and let him carry it about on his neck or person,
either the wax or the ring, and go with pure mind and chastity before
king, noble, or wise man, and he shall obtain from them whatsoever he may
desire. A bearded man holding a flower in his hand cut on carnelian, and
set in a tin ring, the ring being made on the change of the moon on a
Friday, the 1st or the 8th of the month, whomsoever thou shalt touch
therewith he shall come to do thy will. Man standing on a dragon, holding
a sword, must be set in a leaden or iron ring; then all the spirits that
dwell in darkness shall obey the wearer, and shall reveal to him in a
low-toned song the place of hidden treasure and the mode of winning the
same. Man riding and holding in one hand the bridle, in the other a bow,
and girt with a sword, engraved on pyrites set in a gold ring, it will
render thee invincible in all battles; and whosoever shall steep this ring
in oil of musk and anoint his face with the said oil, all that see him
shall fear him, and none shall resist. Man erect in armour, holding a
drawn sword, and wearing a helmet, if set in an iron ring of the same
weight, renders the wearer invincible in battle. Capricorn on carnelian,
set in a silver ring and carry about with thee, thou shalt never be harmed
in purse or person by thine enemies, neither shall a judge pass an unjust
sentence against thee; thou shalt abound in business and in honour, and
gain the friendship of many, and all enchantments made against thee shall
be of none effect, and no foe, however powerful, shall be able to resist
thee in battle. (Extracts from ‘Sigil-charms,’ ‘History of the Glyptic
Art,’ ‘Handbook of Engraved Gems,’ by the Rev. C. W. King.)

[29] ‘The Hermetic Brethren had certain rules that they observed in
relation to the power of precious stones to bring good or bad fortune
through the planetary affinities of certain days, because they imagined
that the various gems, equally as gold and silver, were produced through
the chemic operation of the planets working secretly in the telluric
body…. All yellow gems and gold are appropriate to be worn on Sunday, to
draw down the propitious influences or to avert the antagonistic effects
of the spirits on this day, through its ruler and name-giver, the Sun. On
Monday, pearls and white stones (but not diamonds) are to be worn, because
this is the day of the Moon, or of the second power in Nature. Tuesday,
which is the day of Mars, claims rubies and all stones of a fiery lustre.
Wednesday is the day for turquoises, sapphires, and all precious stones
which seem to reflect the blue of the vault of heaven…. Thursday demands
amethysts and deep-coloured stones of sanguine tint, because Thursday is
the day of Thor–the Runic impersonated Male Divine Sacrifice. Friday,
which is the day of Venus, has its appropriate emeralds, and reigns over
all the varieties of the imperial, yet, strangely, the sinister, colour,
green. Saturday, which is Saturn’s day, the oldest of the gods, claims for
its distinctive talisman the most splendid of all gems, or the queen of
precious stones, the lustre-darting diamond.’ (The ‘Rosicrucians,’ by
Hargrave Jennings.)

[30] There is a tradition that this ring found its way to the chapel of
Havering (have the ring), in the parish of Hornchurch, near Romford, and
was kept there until the dissolution of religious houses. Weaver says he
saw a representation of it on a window of Romford church. The legend is
also displayed on an ancient window in the great church of St. Lawrence,
at Ludlow, to which town the pilgrims who received the ring from the saint
are said to have belonged. A tradition to this effect was current in the
time of Leland, who notices it in his ‘Itinerary.’

[31] Appendix.

[32] To understand the language of birds was peculiarly one of the boasted
sciences of the Arabians. Their writers relate that Balkis, the Queen of
Sheba, or Saba, had a bird called _Huddud_, a lapwing, which she
despatched to King Solomon on various occasions, and that this trusty bird
was the messenger of their amours. We are told that Solomon, having been
secretly informed by the winged confidant that Balkis intended to honour
him with a grand embassy, enclosed a spacious square with a wall of gold
and silver bricks, in which he ranged his numerous troops and attendants,
in order to receive the ambassadors, who were astonished at the suddenness
of these splendid and unexpected preparations.

[33] Moore, in his juvenile poem of the ‘Ring,’ has made use of this
legend, and added considerably to its fanciful conceptions:–

‘Young Rupert for his wedding-ring
Unto the statue went,
But, ah! how was he shock’d to find
The marble finger bent!

‘The hand was closed upon the ring
With firm and mighty clasp;
In vain he tried, and tried, and tried,
He could not loose the grasp.’

Austin is the hermit that Rupert seeks, and whose aid enables him to
regain the ring from the female fiend:–

“In Austin’s name take back the ring,
The ring thou gav’st to me;
And thou’rt to me no longer wed,
Nor longer I to thee.”

‘He took the ring, the rabble pass’d,
He home returned again;
His wife was then the happiest fair,
The happiest he of men.’

[34] Appendix.

[35] Appendix.

[36] A curious legend is connected with this famous jewel. The French
monarch had visited the shrine of the saint to discharge a vow which he
had made in battle, and he knelt before it with the stone set in a ring on
his finger. The officiating prelate entreated the King to bestow the jewel
on the shrine, but as the jewel ensured good luck, Louis hesitated, but
offered, in compensation, one hundred thousand florins. The prelate was
satisfied, but the saint evidently was not, for the stone leaped from the
ring and fastened itself to the shrine. So bright was the stone that it
was impossible to look at it distinctly, and at night it burned like fire.

[37] Abraxas-stones were so called from having the word _Abraxas_ or
Abrasax engraved on them. They are cut in various forms, and bear a
variety of capricious symbols, mostly composed of human limbs, a fowl’s
head and serpent’s body. These gems are represented as coming from Syria,
Egypt, and Spain. It is certain that the use of the name Abraxas was at
first peculiar to the Gnostic sect of the Basilideans. There is little
doubt that the greater part of the Abraxas-stones were made in the Middle
Ages as talismans.

[38] The shrine of the Magi, in Cologne Cathedral, dates from the twelfth
century. The central subject is the Virgin with the infant Jesus; on the
left, the Adoration of the Three Kings, accompanied by the Emperor Otho
IV. On the right, the Baptism of Christ by John the Baptist, in presence
of an angel. All these figures are of pure gold, and in full relief. The
architectural decorations are covered with enamels and precious stones.
Above these figures is a cover of silver-gilt, on removing which the
skulls of the Three Kings are seen, with their names, Gaspar, Melchior,
and Balthazar, traced in rubies. The crowns of copper gilt replace those
of massive gold, which disappeared during the revolutionary storms. They
weighed each six pounds, and were enriched with fine pearls and an
aigrette of diamonds. Above the relics is the figure of Christ, as the
Judge of men, between two angels, who hold the instruments of the Passion.
This reliquary is 5½ feet long, by three wide, 5 feet high. It was begun
in 1170, and made by order of Archbishop Philip von Heinsberg. In the
Rosicrucian theory, Caspar, or Gaspar, is the ‘White One;’ Melchior is the
‘King of Light;’ Beltasar, the ‘Lord of Treasures.’ Balthasar, or
Balthazar, is the septuagint spelling of Belshazzar. Talismanic rings and
other objects were manufactured largely for sale to the pilgrims at the
shrine of the ‘Three Kings.’

Mr. Thomas Wright, M.A., has, in his edition of the ‘Chester Plays,’
described, at length, this popular legend.

A magic ring was found a few years ago at Dunwich, with this
inscription:–

‘Jasper fert myrrham; thus Melchior; Balthasar aurum,
Hæc tria qui secum portabit nomina Regum,
Solvitur a morbo, Christi pietate, caduco.’

Bishop Patrick, in his ‘Reflections on the Devotions of the Roman Church,’
1674, asks, with assumed _naïveté_, how these names of the Three Wise
Men–Melchior, Balthazar, and Jasper–are to be of service, ‘when another
tradition says they were Apellius, Amerus, and Damascus; a third, that
they were Megalath, Galgalath, and Sarasin; and a fourth calls them Ator,
Sator, and Peratoras; which last I should choose (in this uncertainty), as
having the more kingly sound.’

[39] The horn of the narwhal (which in the Middle Ages passed for the horn
of the unicorn) was supposed to possess, among other virtues, that of
neutralising and detecting the presence of poison. Various old writers
relate that it became agitated when placed in contact with a poisoned
body, and the most efficacious antidote to poison was the water in which
it had been steeped. A piece of the horn was attached to a chain of gold,
in order that it might be plunged into a dish without putting in the
fingers.

[40] The Runic characters are of very remote antiquity, and of entirely
pagan origin. They are attributed to Odin, whom tradition asserts to have
been eminently skilful in the art of writing, as well for the common
purposes of life, as for the operations of magic. It is the earliest
alphabet in use among the Teutonic and Gothic nations of Northern Europe.
The name is derived from the Teutonic _rûn_, a mystery; whence _runa_, a
whisper, and _helrun_, divination. They were distinguished into various
kinds: the _noxious_–or, as they were called, the _bitter_–employed to
bring various evils on their enemies; the _favourable_ averted
misfortunes; the _victorious_ procured conquest to those who used them;
the _medicinal_ were inscribed on the leaves of trees for healing; others
served to dispel melancholy thoughts; to prevent shipwreck; were antidotes
against poison; preservatives against the anger of enemies; efficacious to
render a mistress favourable–these last were to be used with great
caution. If an ignorant person had chanced to write one letter for
another, or had erred in the minutest stroke, he would have exposed his
mistress to some dangerous illness, which was only to be cured by writing
other runes with the greatest niceness. All these various kinds differed
only in the ceremonies observed in writing them, in the materials on which
they were written, in the place where they were exposed, in the manner in
which the lines were drawn, whether in the form of a circle, of a serpent,
or a triangle, &c.

‘In the strict observance of these childish particulars consisted’
(remarks Mallet in his ‘Northern Antiquities’) ‘that obscure and
ridiculous art which acquired to so many weak and wicked persons the
respectable name of priests and prophetesses, merely for filling rude
minds with so much jealousy, fear, and hatred.’

Grimm states that the Anglo-Saxon Runic alphabet was derived from the
Scandinavian at a period when it had only sixteen letters, the
complementary letters of the two alphabets having been formed on
principles that offer not the slightest analogy. While on the subject of
Runic calendars I may mention (although unconnected with rings) a singular
Runic almanack which was exhibited at the Winchester meeting of the
Archæological Institute in 1845. It is in the form of a walking-stick,
called in the north of Europe a ‘rim-stok,’ or ‘primstaf.’ The symbols and
figures which ornament this calendar relate to the saints’ days and the
successive occupations of the seasons. The staff is of a fashion rarely to
be found in the north, and appears to be the same which was procured at
Trondheim, in Norway, by Mr. Wolff, formerly Norwegian consul at London,
who published an account of it.

[41] A modern poet thus apostrophises the turquoise and its changeful
properties in the following beautiful sonnet:–

‘In sunny hours, long flown, how oft my eyes
Have gazed with rapture on thy tender blue!
Turquoise! thou magic gem, thy lovely hue
Vies with the tints celestial of the skies.
What sweet romance thy beauty bids arise,
When, beaming brightly to the anxious view,
Thou giv’st th’ assurance dear that love is true!
_But should thy rays be clouded_, what deep sighs,
What showers of tenderness distress the heart!
Ah! much of joy I owe thee, but no woe.
As to my mind, thou ever didst impart
That feeling blest which made my pale cheek glow
(For love was mine, shorn of his wings and dart).
Turquoise! in warmest strains thy praise should flow,
Such as some gifted minstrel could bestow.’

[42] A more homely remedy for the same disorder is given in Wittal’s
‘Little Dictionary,’ where we find that–

‘The bone of a hare’s foot, closed in a ring,
Will drive away the cramp, whenas it doth wring.’

[43] Appendix.

[44] Queen Bertha, consort of King Louis the Seventh, of France, was
crowned by the Pope, who also placed a ring on her finger, saying:
‘Receive this ring, emblem of the Holy Trinity, by which you may resist
heresy and bring the heathen to a knowledge of the faith by the virtue
thus given. God, the source of all dignity and honour, give to thy
servant, by this sign of the faith, grace to persevere in His sight, that
she may evermore rest firm in the faith by the merits of Jesus Christ.’

[45] The ruby, according to De Laert (1647), appears to have been very
generally used for rings, and unpolished; for, ‘unlike the diamond that
hath no beauty unless shaped and polished, the ruby charms without any aid
from art.’ True rubies, and of good colour uncut, but with their natural
surface polished, set in rings, date from the earliest times. Gesner
states that Catherine of Arragon used to wear a ring set with a stone
luminous at night, which he conjectures was a ruby.

[46] A MS. account of the ‘Conveyance of Great Estates into the King’s
presence at the time of their creation’ (British Museum, Additional MSS.
No. 6,297) gives the preparation for a creation of the Prince. After the
rich habits given on this occasion, we read: ‘Item, a sword, the scabbard
covered with crimson cloth of gold, plain, and a girdle agreeable to the
same. Item, a coronal. Item, a verge of gold. Item, a ring of gold to be
put on the third finger.’

[47] The use of a seal, or signet-ring, for the purchase of property is
mentioned in the Bible. In Jeremiah the formalities are thus given: ‘And I
bought the field of Hanameel, and weighed him the money, even seventeen
shekels of silver. And I subscribed the evidence, _and sealed it_, and
took witnesses, and weighed him the money in the balances. So I took the
evidence of the purchase, both that which was sealed, according to the law
and custom, and that which was open’ (chap. xxxii.).

[48] In the Braybrooke Collection is a gold band-ring with a similar
inscription, found at Wimbish, in Essex. It is noticed in the seventh
volume of the ‘Archæological Institute Journal,’ p. 196, and is described
as a serjeant-at-law’s gold ring, the hoop ⅜ of an inch in width, and of
equal thickness; the motto ‘Lex regis præsidium.’

[49] Horace Walpole, in one of his letters, alludes to the ‘Fisherman’s
Ring’ in his usual lively manner: ‘Mr. Chute has received a present of a
diamond mourning-ring from a cousin; he calls it _l’annello del
Piscatore_. Mr. Chute, who is unmarried, meant that his cousin was
_fishing_ for his estate.’

[50] To show how little, in former times, the sanctity of the Popes was
regarded after death, Aimon, in his ‘Tableau de la Cour de Rome,’ relates
that ‘when the Pope is in the last extremity, his nephews and his servants
carry from the palace all the furniture they can find. Immediately after
his death, the officers of the Apostolic Chamber strip the body of
everything valuable, but the relations of the Pope generally forestal
them, and with such promptitude that nothing remains but bare walls and
the body, placed on a wretched mattress, with an old wooden candlestick
and a wax end in it.’

[51] In the ‘Archæologia,’ vol. xxxvi., Mr. Octavius Morgan remarks ‘that
in the beginning of the seventeenth century some attention seems to have
been paid to the subject of rings in general, and several persons wrote
concerning them. John Kirchmann, a learned German of Lubeck, published a
treatise “De Annulis;” and about the same time Henry Kornmann wrote
another small treatise “De Triplici Annulo.” Kirchmann appears to have
made deep researches on the subject, and in the chapter on “Episcopal
Rings” he gives their history as far as he was able to trace it, though he
cannot find in ancient writers any facts relating to them earlier than the
reign of Charlemagne. In gratitude to this monarch for the important
services he had rendered the Church, it was decreed in the eighth century
that the Emperor should have the power of electing the Popes and ordering
the Holy See, and that in addition the archbishops and the bishops of the
provinces should receive investiture from him. No newly-elected prelate
could be consecrated until he received from the Emperor the ring and the
staff; these were to be returned on the death of the prelate. But this
practice was disused for a time; for we find enumerated in the old
chronicles of Mayence, among the jewels in that city, “sixteen large and
good pontifical rings–one of ruby, with other gems, one of emerald, one
of sapphire, and one of topaz.”’

[52] The mode of giving the benediction differs in the two Churches. In
the Greek it is given with the forefinger open, to form an I, the middle
finger curved like a C, the ancient _sigma_ of the Greeks, the thumb and
annulary crossed form an X, and the little finger curved represents a C.
All this gives IC XC, the Greek monogram of Jesus Christ. Thus, as the
author of the ‘Guide of Painting,’ of Mount Athos, observes:–‘By the
Divine providence of the Creator, the fingers of the hand of man, be they
more or less long, are arranged so as to form the name of Christ.’

The Latin benediction is more simple, being made with the annulary and the
little finger closed, the three first fingers open, symbolical of the
Trinity.

‘Formerly, bishops and priests blessed alike; latterly, bishops reserved
to themselves the right of blessing with their fingers, the priest with
the open hand; the bishops facing the congregation, the priests in
profile, with the hand placed edgeways. The sign of the cross was formerly
made with three fingers open, but now with the open hand, from the
forehead to the breast, and from the left to the right shoulder by the
Latins, but from the right to the left by the Greeks’ (Didron,
‘Iconographie Chrétienne’).

[53] The reader will be reminded of the anecdote of Queen Elizabeth, who,
drawing from her finger the coronation ring, showed it to the Commons, and
told them that when she received that ring she had solemnly bound herself
in marriage to the realm, and it would be quite sufficient for the
memorial of her name, and for her glory, if, when she died, an inscription
were engraved on her marble tomb: ‘Here lyeth Elizabeth, which (_sic_)
reigned a virgin, and died a woman.’ This coronation ring was filed off
her finger shortly before her death, on account of the flesh having grown
over it.

[54] In ‘A Relation, or rather True Account of the Islands of England,’
about the year 1500 (Camden Society), the author, after describing the
shrine of St. Thomas, at Canterbury, adds: ‘Everything is left far behind
by a ruby not larger than a man’s thumb-nail, which is set to the right of
the altar. The church is rather dark, and particularly so where the shrine
is placed, and when we went to see it the sun was nearly gone down, and
the weather was cloudy, yet I saw the ruby as well as if it had been in my
hand. They say it was a gift of the King of France.’

[55] See Appendix.

[56] The gilding and silvering of locks, _rings_ (firmalx anelx), and
other articles of a similar nature made of copper or latten (faitz de
cupre ou laton) having been prohibited by the statute 5th Henry IV. c. 13,
under what was then a heavy penalty, the ‘disloyal artificers,’ against
whom this enactment was made, appear to have taken refuge in the sanctuary
of St. Martin’s-le-Grand, where they were able to labour in their vocation
unmolested by the marshal or the sheriff. This may be inferred from 3 Edw.
IV. c. 4, by which it was declared unlawful to import various articles of
foreign manufacture, including _rings_ of _gilded copper or laten_, but
with an express declaration that the Act was not to extend to or be
prejudicial or hurtful to Robert Styllington, clerk, dean of the King’s
Free Chapel of ‘St. Martin’s le Graunt, de Londres,’ nor to his
successors.

[57] English ladies at one time wore the wedding-ring on the thumb. At
Stanford Court, Worcestershire, may be seen the portraits of five ladies
of the Salway family, in the days of Queen Elizabeth, all of whom have
their wedding-rings on their thumbs. According to the ‘British Apollo,’
the brides of George the First’s time used to remove the ring from its
proper abiding-place to the thumb as soon as the ceremony was over.

In Southerne’s ‘Maid’s Last Prayer’ (Act iv. vol. i. p. 67) we
find:–‘Marry him I must, and wear my wedding-ring upon my thumb, too,
that I’m resolved.’

An instance of several wedding-rings being used at the bridal ceremony is
related by Burcard, master of the ceremonies to the Pope’s Chapel from
Sixtus IV. to Julius II. At the marriage of a daughter of Pope Innocent
VIII. to Lewis of Arragon, Marquis of Geracio (January 3, 1492), the pair
approached the Pope, and, both being on their knees, the husband put the
ring on the proper finger of the left hand of his spouse, then several
rings on the other fingers of both hands.

[58] In the Waterton Collection, at the South Kensington Museum, a
forefinger, from a bronze statue of late Roman work, wears a large ring
upon the second joint. In Germany it is still customary to wear the ring
in this fashion, a custom borrowed from their Roman subjugators.

[59] A correspondent to ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. viii. series i. p. 575)
observes, with regard to the ring being placed on the third finger of the
right hand of the Blessed Virgin in Raffaelle’s ‘Sponsalizio,’ at Milan,
and in Ghirlandais’s fresco of the same subject in the Santa Croce, at
Florence, ‘that it has been customary among artists to represent the
Virgin with the ring on the right hand, to signify her superiority over
St. Joseph, from her surpassing dignity of Mother of God. Still, she is
not always represented so.’

[60] A bishop, in the thirteenth century, gives the following reasons why
the ring should be of gold. He says that ‘one Protheus made a ring of iron
with an adamant enclosed therein, as a pledge of love, because as iron
subdueth all things, so doth love conquer all things, since nothing is
more violent than its ardour, and, as an adamant cannot be broken, so love
cannot be overcome, for love is strong as death. In course of time gold
rings set with gems were substituted for the adamantine ones of baser
metal, because, as gold excelleth all other metals, so doth love excel all
other blessings, and as gold is set off with gems, so is conjugal love set
off by other virtues.’

[61] In the reign of George the Fourth, a limited number of plain gold
rings were made, having a well-executed miniature medallion of that King
set beneath a large diamond. One of these was in the possession of the
late Lady Fellows.

[62] It was formerly the custom in Brittany that, on the night after the
marriage, the husband presented his wife with a ring and act of dowry.

[63] Latour St. Ybars, in his tragedy of ‘Virginius,’ alludes to the iron
ring:–

Alors qu’ Icilius ne m’a jamais offert
Pour gage de sa foi que cet anneau de fer,
Claudius, sans respect pour l’amour qui m’anime
Par cet appas grossier croit m’entraîner au crime,
Et ces ornaments vils qu’il m’ose présenter
Sont fait de ce métal qui sert pour acheter!
Va rendre à Claudius tous ces dons, et sur l’heure
Les présents de cet homme ont souillés ma démeure,
Et ce seroit blesser notre honneur et nos dieux
Que d’y porter la main, que d’y jeter les yeux.

[64] The ‘betrothing penny’ given at the ceremony of marriage was in olden
times a common usage both in England and in France, representing either
earnest-money, or the actual purchase of the bride. In the pontifical of
Amiens, the bridegroom is to say: ‘De cet anneau t’espouse, et de cet
argent te hounoure, et de mon corps te doue.’ In an ancient manuscript of
the Salisbury Missal, in the Harleian Collection, the bridegroom says:
‘Wyth thys rynge y the wedde, and thys golde and selvir the geve, and with
my bodi y the worshippe, and with all my worldith catel y the honoure.’

[65] Pitscottie says ‘the Queen of France wrote a love-letter to the King
of Scotland, calling him her love, showing him that she had suffered much
rebuke in France for defending his honour. She believed surely that he
would recompense her with some of his kingly support in her necessity;
that is to say, that he would raise her an army and come three foot of
ground on English ground for her sake. To that effect she sent him a ring
off her finger, with 14,000 French crowns to pay his expenses.’

[66] Appendix.

[67] Lady Moray, the wife of the Scottish Regent, had appropriated, during
the Queen’s troubles, many of her most valuable jewels. She wrote to her
from Tutbury, March 28th, 1570:–

‘We are informed that ye have tane in possession certain of our jewels,
such as our Henry of dyamant and ruby, with a number of other dyamant,
ruby, perles, and gold worke, whereof we have the memoir to lay to your
charge, which jewels incontinent, after the sight hereof, ye sall deliver
to our right trusty cousins and counsellors, the Earl of Huntley, our
lieutenant, and my Lord Setoun, who will, on so doing, give you discharge
of the same.’

Lady Moray paid no attention to Queen Mary’s request for the return of her
jewels, well knowing that she was in no condition for enforcing her
demands.

[68] ‘The skull and skeleton decorations for rings’ (remarks Mr. Fairholt)
‘first came into favour and fashion at the obsequious court of France,
when Diana, of Poictiers, became the mistress of Henry the Second. At that
time she was a widow, and in mourning, so black and white became
fashionable colours; jewels were formed like funeral memorials; golden
ornaments, shaped like coffins, holding enamelled skeletons, hung from the
neck; watches, made to fit in little silver skulls, were attached to the
waists of the denizens of a court that alternately indulged in profanity
or piety, but who mourned show.’

[69] _Biblical Monuments_, by William Harris Rule, D.D., and J. Corbet
Anderson; 1871, 1873.

[70] This great founder of the Merovingian dynasty, the father of Clovis,
died in 482, and was buried with his treasures, weapons, and robes. Nearly
twelve hundred years afterwards, a labourer, a poor deaf and dumb man,
accidentally discovered the royal grave, and was astonished, and almost
terrified, at the sight of the treasures it contained. Among them was the
signet-ring alluded to, which, with a considerable number of the other
treasures of the tomb, were deposited in the Bibliothèque, then ‘Royale,’
at Paris, which was broken into by burglars in 183-. An alarm being given,
in their hasty flight they threw the objects into the Seine; the ring was
not recovered.

In the tomb were found, besides the skeletons of his horse and page, his
arms; a cornelian Etruscan scarab, doubtless deposited therein as an
amulet of wondrous virtue; also a crystal divining-ball, two inches in
diameter, and more than three hundred little _bees_, of the purest gold,
their wings being inlaid with a red stone like cornelian.

On the authority of the historian Augustin Thierry, it is stated that
these ornaments resembling bees were only what in French are called
_fleurons_ (supposed to have been attached to the harness of his
war-horse). Montfaucon is of the same opinion.

[71] I am greatly indebted to this gentleman for the loan of a manuscript
catalogue of ring mottos and inscriptions on wedding-rings, of
which–besides those exhibited at the Kensington Museum–I have availed
myself in the following pages of this chapter. Mr. Singer has, I believe,
the finest collection of inscribed wedding-rings known, numbering two
hundred and forty-five specimens of every kind, in gold and silver, each
weighing from three dwts. and upwards, and none less than a hundred years
old, some dating from five hundred years.

Mr. Singer’s collection is also enriched with some interesting betrothal
rings, and there are fourteen double-line motto-rings which are matchless.
This collection has been accumulated during the last quarter of a century,
at a very considerable cost.


[72]This play upon words has been applied in a political sense. ‘So,’ as
the late Mr. Crofton Croker observed, ‘when the Repeal question was
agitated in Ireland, rings and brooches, set in precious stones, made to
represent the word “Repeal” were popular:–

R uby
E merald
P earl
E merald
A methyst
L apis lazuli.

One of these was given to a gentleman as a relic of this memorable
agitation, but the bit of lapis lazuli had dropped out, and he took it to
a working jeweller in Cork to have the defect supplied. When it was
returned, he found that a topaz had been substituted for the missing bit
of lapis lazuli. “How is this?” he inquired, “you have made a mistake.”
“No mistake, sir,” said the witty workman, whom he afterwards discovered
to be an ardent Repealer, “It is all right: it _was_ repea_l_, but let us
repea_t_ that we may have it yet.”’

[73] Appendix.

[74] In Knight’s ‘Pictorial Shakspeare’ is the following note on the dial
which Touchstone drew ‘from his “poke:”’ ‘“There’s no clock in the
forest,” says Orlando; and it was not very likely that the fool would have
a pocket-clock. What then was the _dial_ that he took from his poke? We
have lately become possessed of a rude instrument kindly presented to us
by a friend, which, as the Maid of Orleans found her sword, he picked “out
of a deal of old iron.” It is a brass circle of about two inches in
diameter. On the outer side are engraved letters, indicating the names of
the months, with gradual divisions; and on the inner side, the hours of
the day. The brass circle itself is to be held in one position by a ring;
but there is an inner slide in which there is a small orifice. This slide
being moved, so that the hole stands opposite the division of the month
when the day falls of which we desire to know the time, the circle is held
up opposite the sun. The inner side is then, of course in shade, but the
sunbeam shines through the little orifice and forms a point of light upon
the hour marked on the inner side. We have tried this dial and found it
give the hour with great exactness.’

A correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. xii. 3rd series, p. 79)
mentions that rings to ascertain the time are regularly sold at the Swiss
fairs. They are called _cadrans_. The price of one is twenty centimes.

[75] This magnificent collection was sold, in one lot (June 28th, 1875),
to Mr. Bromilow, of Battlesden Park, for 35,000_l._

[76] In Montfaucon’s ‘L’Antiquité Expliquée’ there is a fine illustration
of this beautiful seal. My edition of the work is in English (1721), and
the engraving is in vol. i. page 145. It is thus described: the child
Bacchus is in the arms of his nurse. She is generally thought to have been
Ino, called also Leucothea, or the daughters of Ino (according to others)
brought him up. A nymph, or perhaps another nurse, is sitting by. The old
man is either Silenus, or it may be Athamas, Ino’s husband. Several other
nymphs have on their heads baskets full of flowers and fruits. Two Cupids,
or Genii, stretch a canopy over Bacchus and the company that are about
him. A nymph presents a cup to one of the Cupids. On the side of the
figure is an old satyr leaning against a tree. He is playing on a kind of
crooked hautboy. At the end, behind the tree, is a young boy, holding with
both hands a bason, in which a goat seems to be going to drink. It is not
easy to say who a naked man is with the crown on, and holding a cup in one
hand, and in the other the bridle of a horse that is prancing. Some have
taken it for Apollo.

[77] A curious story of a _squirt_-ring is mentioned in Thiebault’s
‘Original Anecdotes of Frederick II.’ M. de Guines, ambassador of France
at Berlin, had greatly mortified the Prussian nobles, and especially the
other foreign ministers, by the ostentatious pomp which he displayed.
Those whose limited means he thus eclipsed longed for some opportunity to
wound the vanity of the proud man who daily humbled theirs, and excited
their envy. At this crisis a Russian ambassador, who was returning home to
present at his own court his newly-married bride, stopped on his way at
Berlin. Prince Dolgorouki, the Russian ambassador there, did the honours
of the Russian court to his countryman, and gave him and his wife a
dinner, to which were invited all the corps diplomatique. M. de Guines was
seated next to the bride. The lady, who had been initiated into all the
court gossips, had enlisted under the banner of the malcontents, and taken
upon herself the task of vexing the magnificent Frenchman. She had placed
upon her finger a ring of very exquisite and curious workmanship, to which
she called the attention of her neighbour during the course of the dinner.
As he stooped to examine the jewel, the wearer pressed a spring concealed
in the side of the ring within her hand, and jerked a small quantity of
water into the eyes of the ambassador. The ring contained a syringe. The
minister wiped his face, jested good-humouredly on the diminutive little
instrument, and thought no more of it. But his fair enemy had not yet
accomplished her purpose of mortifying the ambassador. Having refilled the
squirt unperceived by him, she called his attention to herself, and again
discharged the water in his face. M. de Guines looked neither angry nor
abashed, but, in a serious tone of friendly advice, said to his foolish
aggressor: ‘Madame, this kind of jest excites laughter the first time;
when repeated it may be excused, especially if proceeding from a lady, as
an act of youthful levity; but the third time it would be looked upon as
an insult, and you would instantly receive in exchange the glass of water
you see before me: of this, madame, I have the honour to give you notice.’
Thinking he would not dare to execute his threat, the lady once more
filled and emptied the little water-spout at the expense of M. de Guines,
who instantly acknowledged and repaid it with the contents of his glass,
calmly adding, ‘I warned you, madame.’ The husband took the wisest course,
declaring that the ambassador was perfectly justified in thus punishing
his wife’s unjustifiable rudeness. The lady changed her dress, and the
guests were requested to keep silence on the affair. [Madame de Barrera.]

GEM-STONES AND THEIR DISTINCTIVE CHARACTERS

GEM-STONES AND THEIR DISTINCTIVE CHARACTERS
G. F. HERBERT SMITH M.A., D.Sc. OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM (NATURAL HISTORY) WITH MANY DIAGRAMS AND THIRTY-TWO PLATES OF WHICH THREE ARE IN COLOUR THIRD EDITION
PREFACE
In this edition the opportunity has been taken to correct a few misprints and mistakes that have been discovered in the first, and to alter slightly one or two paragraphs, but otherwise no change has been made.
G. F. H. S. WANDSWORTH COMMON, S.W.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
It has been my endeavour to provide in this book a concise, yet sufficiently complete, account of the physical characters of the mineral species which find service in jewellery, and of the methods available for determining their principal physical constants to enable a reader, even if previously unacquainted with the subject, to have at hand all the information requisite for the sure identification of any cut stone which may be met with. For several reasons I have dealt somewhat more fully with the branches of science closely connected with the properties of crystallized matter than has been customary hitherto in even the most comprehensive books on precious stones. Recent years have witnessed many changes in the jewellery world. Gem-stones are no longer entirely drawn from a few well-marked mineral species, which are, on the whole, easily distinguishable from one another, and it becomes increasingly difficult for even the most experienced eye to recognize a cut stone with unerring certainty. So long as the only confusion lay between precious stones and paste imitations an ordinary file was the solitary piece of apparatus required by the jeweller, but now recourse must be had to more discriminative tests, such as the refractive index or the specific gravity, the determination of which calls for a little knowledge and skill. Concurrently, a keener interest is being taken in the scientific aspect of gem-stones by the public at large, who are attracted to them mainly by esthetic considerations. While the treatment has been kept as simple as possible, technical expressions, where necessary, have not been avoided, but their meanings have been explained, and it is hoped that their use will not prove stumbling-blocks to the novice. Unfamiliar words of this kind often give a forbidding air to a new subject, but they are used merely to avoid circumlocution, and not, like the incantations of a wizard, to veil the difficulties in still deeper gloom. For actual practical work the pages on the refractometer and its use and the method of heavy liquids for the determination of specific gravities, and the tables of physical constants at the end of the book, with occasional reference, in case of doubt, to the descriptions of the several species alone are required; other methods—such as the prismatic mode of measuring refractive indices, or the hydrostatic way of finding specific gravities-which find a place in the ordinary curriculum of a physics course are described in their special application to gem-stones, but they are not so suitable for workshop practice. Since the scope of the book is confined mainly to the stones as they appear on the market, little has been said about their geological occurrence; the case of diamond, however, is of exceptional interest and has been more fully treated. The weights stated for the historical diamonds are those usually published, and are probably in many instances far from correct, but they serve to give an idea of the sizes of the stones; the English carat is the unit used, and the numbers must be increased by about 21/2 per cent. if the weights be expressed in metric carats. The prices quoted for the various species must only be regarded as approximate, since they may change from vear to year, or even day to day, according to the state of trade and the whim of fashion. The diagram on Plate II and most of the crystal drawings were made by me. The remaining drawings are the work of Mr. H. H. Penton. He likewise prepared the coloured drawings of cut stones which appear on the three coloured plates, his models, with two exceptions, being selected from the cut specimens in the Mineral Collection of the British Museum by Unfortunately, the permission of the Trustees. difficulties that still beset the reproduction of pictures in colour have prevented full justice being done to the faithfulness of his brush. I highly appreciate the interest he took in the work, and the care and skill with which it was executed. My thanks are due to the De Beers Consolidated Mines Co. Ltd., and to Sir Henry A. Miers, F.R.S., Principal of the University of London, for the illustrations of the Kimberley and Wesselton diamond mines, and of the methods and apparatus employed in breaking up and concentrating the blue ground; to Messrs. I. I. Asscher & Co. for the use of the photograph of the Cullinan diamond; to Mr. J. H. Steward for the loan of the block of the refractometer; and to Mr. H. W. Atkinson for the illustration of the diamond-sorting machine. My colleague, Mr. W. Campbell Smith, B.A., has most kindly read the proof-sheets, and has been of great assistance in many ways. I hope that. thanks to his invaluable help, the errors in the book which may have escaped notice will prove few in number and unimportant in character. To Mr. Edward Hopkins I owe an especial debt of gratitude for his cheerful readiness to assist me in any way in his power. He read both the manuscript and the proof-sheets, and the information with regard to the commercial and practical side of the subject was very largely supplied by him. He also placed at my service a large number of photographs, some of which—for instance, those illustrating the cutting of stones—he had specially taken for me, and he procured for me the jewellery designs shown on Plates IV and V. If this book be found by those engaged in the jewellery trade helpful in their everyday work, and if it wakens in readers generally an appreciation of the variety of beautiful minerals suitable for gems, and an interest in the wondrous qualities of crystallized substances, I shall be more than satisfied. G. F. H. S. WANDSWORTH COMMON, S.W.
GEM-STONES
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION
Beauty, durability, and rarity: such are the three cardinal virtues of a perfect gem-stone. Stones lacking any of them cannot aspire to a high place in the ranks of precious stones, although it does not necessarily follow that they are of no use for ornamental purposes. The case of pearl, which, though not properly included among gem-stones, being directly produced by living agency, yet holds an honoured place in jewellery, constitutes to some extent an exception, since its incontestable beauty atones for its comparative want of durability. That a gem-stone should be a delight to the eye is a truism that need not be laboured; for such is its whole raison d’être. The members of the Mineral Kingdom that find service in jewellery may be divided into three groups, according as they are transparent, translucent, or opaque. Of these the first, which is by far the largest and the most important, may itself be further sub-divided into two sections: stones which are devoid of colour. and stones which are tinted. Among the former, diamond reigns supreme, since it alone possesses that marvellous ‘fire,’ oscillating with every movement from heavenly blue to glowing red, which is so highly esteemed and so much besought. Other stones, such as ‘fired’ zircon, white sapphire, white topaz, and rock-crystal, may dazzle with brilliancy of light reflected from the surface or emitted from the interior, but none of them, like diamond, glow with mysterious gleams. No hint of colour, save perhaps a trace of the blue of steel, can be tolerated in stones of this category; above all is a touch of the jaundice hue of yellow abhorred. It taxes all the skill of the lapidary to assure that the disposition of the facets be such as to reveal the full splendour of the stone. A coloured stone, on the other hand, depends for its attractiveness more upon its intrinsic hue than upon the manner of its cutting. The tint must not be too light or too dark in shade: a stone that has barely any colour has little interest, and one which is too dark appears almost opaque and black. The lapidary can to some extent remedy these defects by cutting the former deep and the latter shallow. In certain curious stones—for instance tourmaline—the transparency, and in others —such as ruby, sapphire, and one of the recent additions to the gem world, kunzite—the colour, varies considerably in different directions. The colours that are most admired—the fiery red of ruby, the royal blue of sapphire, the verdant green of emerald, and the golden yellow of topaz—are pure tints, and the absorption spectra corresponding to them are on the whole continuous and often restricted. They therefore retain the purity of their colour even in artificial light, though certain sapphires transmit a relatively larger amount of red, and consequently turn purple at night. Of the small group of translucent stones which pass light. but are not clear enough to be seen through, the most important is opal. It and certain others of the group owe their merit to the same optical effect as that characterizing soap-bubbles, tarnished steel, and so forth, and not to any intrinsic coloration. Another set of stones—moonstone and the starstones—reflect light from the interior more or less regularly, but not in such a way as to produce a play of colour. The last group, which comprises opaque stones, has a single representative among ordinary gem-stones, namely, turquoise. In this case light is scattered and reflected from lavers immediately contiguous to the surface, and the colour is due to the resulting absorption. The apparent darkness of a deep-coloured stone follows from a different cause: the light passing into the stone is wholly absorbed within it, and, since none is emitted, the stone appears black. The claims of turquoise are maintained by the blue variety; there is little demand for stones of a greenish tinge. It is evidently desirable that any stones used in jewellery should be able to resist the mechanical and chemical actions of everyday life. No one is anxious to replace jewels every few years, and the most valuable stones are expected to endure for all time. The mechanical abrasion is caused by the minute grains of sand that are contained in ordinary dust, and gem-stones should be at least as hard as they—a condition fulfilled by all the principal species with the exception of opal, turquoise, peridot, and demantoid. Since the beauty of the first named does not depend on the brilliancy of its polish, scratches on the surface are not of much importance; further, all four are only slightly softer than sand. It may be noted that the softness of paste stones, apart from any objections that may be felt to the use of imitations, renders them unsuitable for jewellery purposes. The only stones that are likely to be chemically affected in the course of wear are those which are in the slightest degree porous. It is hazardous to immerse turquoises in liquids, even in water, lest the bluish green colour be oxidized to the despised yellowish hue. The risk of damage to opals, moonstones, and star-stones by the penetration of dirt or grease into the interior of the stones is less, but is not wholly negligible. Similar remarks apply with even greater force to pearls. Their charm, which is due to a peculiar surface-play of light, might be destroyed by contamination with grease, ink, or similar matter; they are, moreover, soft. For both reasons their use in rings is much to be deprecated. Nothing can be more unsightly than the dingy appearance of a pearl ring after a few years’ wear. It cannot be gainsaid that mankind prefers the rare to the beautiful, and what is within reach of all is lightly esteemed. It is for this reason that garnet and moonstone lie under a cloud. Purchasers can readily be found for a ‘Cape-ruby’ or an ‘olivine,’ but not for a garnet; garnets are so common, is the usual remark. Nevertheless, the stones mentioned are really garnets. If science succeeded in manufacturing diamonds at the cost of shillings instead of the pounds that are now asked for Nature’s products—not that such a prospect is at all probable or even feasible—we might expect them to vanish entirely from fashionable jewellery. A careful study of the showcases of the most extensive jewellery establishment brings to light the fact that, despite the apparent profusion, the number of different species represented is restricted. Diamond, ruby, emerald, sapphire, pearl, opal, turquoise, topaz, amethyst are all that are ordinarily asked for. Yet, as later pages will show, there are many others worthy of consideration; two among them—peridot and tourmaline—are, indeed, slowly becoming known. For the first five of the stones mentioned above, the demand is relatively steady, and varies absolutely only with the purchasing power of the world; but a lesser known stone may suddenly spring into prominence owing to the caprice of fashion or the preference of some great lady or leader of fashion. Not many years ago, for instance, violet was the favourite colour for ladies’ dresses, and consequently amethysts were much worn to match, but with the change of fashion they speedily sank to their former obscurity. Another stone may perhaps figure at some royal wedding; for a brief while it becomes the vogue, and afterwards is seldom seen. Except that diamond, ruby, emerald, and sapphire, and, we should add, pearl, may indisputably be considered to occupy the first rank, it is impossible to form the gem-stones in any strict order. Every generation sees some change. The value of a stone is after all merely what it will fetch in the open market, and its artistic merits may be a matter of opinion. The familiar aphorism, de gustibus non est disputandum, is a warning not to enlarge upon this point.
PART I—SECTION A
THE CHARACTERS OF GEMSTONES
CHAPTER II
CRYSTALLINE FORM
With the single exception of opal, the whole of the principal mineral species used in jewellery are distinguished from glass and similar substances by one fundamental difference: they are crystallized matter, and the atoms composing them are regularly arranged throughout the structure. The words crystal and glass are employed in science in senses differing considerably from those in popular use. The former of them is derived from the Greek word κρύος, meaning ice, and was at one time used in that sense. For instance, the old fourteenth-century reading of Psalm cxlvii, 17. which appears in the authorized version as “He giveth his ice like morsels,” ran “He sendis his kristall as morcels.” It was also applied to the beautiful, lustrous quartz found among the eternal snows of the Alps, since, on account of their limpidity, these stones were supposed, as Pliny tells us, to consist of water congealed by the extreme cold of those regions; such at the present day is the ordinary meaning of the word. But, when early investigators discovered that a salt solution on evaporation left behind groups of slender glistening prisms, each very similar to the rest, they naturally—though, as we now know, wrongly—regarded them as representing yet another form of congealed water, and applied the same word to such substances. Subsequent research has shown that these salts, as well as mineral substances occurring with natural faces in nature, have in common the fundamental property of regularity of arrangement of the constituent atoms, and science therefore defines by the word crystal a substance in which the structure is uniform throughout, and all the similar atoms composing it are arranged with regard to the structure in a similar way. The other word is yet more familiar; it denotes the transparent, lustrous, hard, and brittle substance produced by the fusion of sand with soda or potash or both which fills our windows and serves a variety of useful purposes. Research has shown that glass, though apparently so uniform in character, has in reality no regularity of molecular arrangement. It is, in fact, a kind of mosaic of atoms, huddled together anyhow, but so irregular is its irregularity that it simulates perfect regularity. Science uses the word glass in this widened meaning. Two substances may, as a matter of fact, have the same chemical composition, and one be a crystal and the other a glass. For example, quartz, if heated to a high temperature, may be fused and converted into a glass. The difference in the two types of structure may be illustrated by a comparison between a regiment of soldiers drawn up on parade and an ordinary crowd of people. The crystalline form is a visible sign of the molecular arrangement, and is intimately associated with the directional physical properties, such as the optical characters, cleavage, etc. A study of it is not only of interest in itself, but also of great importance to the lapidary who wishes to cut a stone to the best advantage, and it is, moreover, of service in distinguishing stones when in the rough state. The development of natural faces on a crystal is far from being haphazard, but is governed by the condition that the angles between similar faces, whether on the same crystal or on different crystals, are equal, however varying may be the shapes and the relative sizes of the faces (Fig. 1), and by the tendency of the faces bounding the crystal to fall into series with parallel edges, such series being termed zones. Each species has a characteristic type of crystallization, which may be referred to one of the following six systems:
1. Cubic.—Crystals in this system can be referred to three edges, which are mutually at right angles, and in which the directional characters are identical in value. These principal edges are known as axes. Some typical forms are the cube (Fig. 2), characteristic of fluor; the octahedron (Fig. 3), characteristic of diamond and spinel; the dodecahedron (Fig. 4), characteristic of garnet; and the triakisoctahedron, or three-faced octahedron (Fig. 5). All crystals belonging to this system are singly refractive.
2. Tetragonal.—Such crystals can be referred to three axes, which are mutually at right angles, but in only two of them are the directional characters identical. A typical form is a four-sided prism, mm, of square section, terminated by four triangular faces, p (Fig. 6), the usual shape of crystals of zircon and idocrase. Crystals belonging to this system are doubly refractive and uniaxial, ie. they have one direction of single refraction (cf. p. 45), which is parallel to the unequal edge of the three mentioned above.
3. Hexagonal.—Such crystals can be referred alternatively either to a set of three axes, X, Y, Z (Fig. 7), which lie in a plane perpendicular to a fourth, H, and are mutually inclined at angles of 60°, or to a set of three, a, b, c, which are not at right angles as in the cubic system, but in which the directional characters are identical. The fourth axis in the first arrangement is equally inclined to each in the second set of axes. Many important species crystallize in this system—corundum (sapphire, ruby), beryl (emerald, aquamarine), tourmaline, quartz, and phenakite. The crystals usually display a six-sided prism, terminated by a single face, c, perpendicular to the edge of the prism m (Fig. 8), eg. emerald, or by six or twelve inclined faces, p (Fig. 9), eg. quartz, crystals of which are so constant in form as to be the most familiar in the Mineral Kingdom. Tourmaline crystals (Fig. 10) are peculiar because of the fact that often one end is obviously to the eye flatter than the other. Crystals belonging to this system are also doubly refractive and uniaxial, the direction of single refraction being parallel to the fourth axis mentioned above, and therefore also parallel to the prism edge, Hence deeply coloured tourmaline, which strongly absorbs the ordinary ray, must be cut with the table-facet parallel to the edge of the prism.
4. Orthorhombic. — Such crystals can be referred to three axes, which are mutually at right angles, but in 5 which each of the directional a characters are different. The crystals are usually prismatic in shape, one of the axes being parallel to the prism edge. Topaz, peridot, and chrysoberyl are the most important species crystallizing in this system. Crystals belonging to this system are doubly refractive and biaxial, ie. they have two directions of single refraction (cf. p. 45). The three axes a, b, c (Fig. II) are parallel respectively to the two bisectrices of the directions of single refraction, and the direction perpendicular to the plane containing those directions.
5. Monoclinic.—Such crystals can be referred to three axes, one of which is at right angles to the other two, which are, however, themselves not at right angles. Spodumene (kunzite) and some moonstone crystallize in this system. Crystals belonging to this system are doubly refractive and biaxial, but in this case the first axis alone is parallel to one of the principal optical directions.
6. Triclinic.—Such crystals have no edges at right angles, and the optical characters are not immediately related to the crystalline form. Some moonstone crystallizes in this system. Crystals are often not single separate individuals. For instance, diamond and spinel are found in flat triangular crystals with their girdles cleft at the corners (Fig. 12). Each of such crystals is really composed of portions of two similar octahedra, which are placed together in such a way that each is a reflection of the other. Such composite crystals are called twins or macles. Sometimes the twinning is repeated, and the individuals may be so minute as to call for a microscope for their perception. A composite structure may also result from the conjunction of numberless minute individuals without any definite orientation, as in the case of chalcedony and agate. So by supposing the individuals to become infinitesimally small, we pass to a glass-like substance. It is often a peculiarity of crystals of a species to display a typical combination of natural faces. Such a combination is known as the habit of the species, and is often of service for the purpose of identifying stones before they are cut. Thus, a habit of diamond and spinel is an octahedron, often twinned, of garnet a dodecahedron, of emerald a flat-ended hexagonal prism, and so on. It is one of the most interesting and remarkable features connected with crystallization that the composition and the physical characters—for instance, the refractive indices and specific gravity—may, without any serious disturbance of the molecular arrangement, vary considerably owing to the more or less complete replacement of one element by another closely allied to it. That is the cause of the range of the physical characters which has been observed in such species as tourmaline, peridot, spinel, etc. The principal replacements in the case of the gem-stones are ferric oxide, Fe2O3, by alumina, Al2O3, and ferrous oxide, FeO, by magnesia, MgO. A list of the principal gem-stones, arranged by their chemical composition, is given in Table I at the end of the book.
CHAPTER III
REFLECTION, REFRACTION, AND DISPERSION
It is obvious that, since a stone suitable for ornamental use must appeal to the eye, its most important characters are those which depend upon light; indeed, the whole art of the lapidary consists in shaping it in such a way as to show these qualities to the best advantage. To understand why certain forms are given to a cut stone, it is essential for us to ascertain what becomes of the light which falls upon the surface of the stone; further, we shall find that the action of a stone upon light is of very great help in distinguishing the different species of gem-stones. The phenomena displayed by light which impinges upon the surface separating two media1 are very similar in character, whatever be the nature of the media. Ordinary experience with a plane mirror tells us that, when light is returned, or reflected, as it is usually termed, from a plane or flat surface, there is no alteration in the size of objects viewed in this way, but that the right and the left hands are interchanged: our right hand becomes the left hand in our reflection in the mirror. We notice, further, that our reflection is apparently just as far distant from the mirror on the farther side as we are on this side. In Fig. 13 MM’ is a section of the mirror, and O’ is the image of the hand O as seen in the mirror. Light from O reaches the eye E by way of m, but it appears to come from O’. Since OO’ is perpendicular to the mirror, and O and O’ lie at equal distances from it, it follows from elementary geometry that the angle i’, which the reflected ray makes with mn, the normal to the mirror, is equal to i, the angle which the incident ray makes with the same direction. Again, everyday experience tells us that the case is less simple when light actually crosses the bounding surface and passes into the other medium. Thus, if we look down into a bath filled with water. the bottom of the bath appears to have been raised up, and a stick plunged into the water seems to be bent just at the surface, except in the particular case when it is perfectly upright. Since the stick itself has not been bent, light evidently suffers some change in direction as it passes into the water or emerges therefrom. The passage of light from one medium to another was studied by Snell in the seventeenth century, and he enunciated the following laws:—
1. The refracted ray lies in the plane containing the incident ray and the normal to the plane surface separating the two media. It will be noticed that the reflected ray obeys this law also.
2. The angle r, which the refracted ray makes with the normal, is related to the angle i, which the incident ray makes with the same direction, by the equation n sin i = n’ sin r, . . . (a) where n and n’ are constants for the two media which are known as the indices of refraction, or the refractive indices. This simple trigonometrical relation may be expressed in geometrical language. Suppose we cut a plane section through the two media at right angles to the bounding plane, which then appears as a straight line, SOS’ (Fig. 14), and suppose that IO represents the direction of the incident ray; then Snell’s first law tells us that the refracted ray OR will also lie in this plane. Draw the normal NON’, and with centre O and any radius describe a circle intersecting the incident and refracted rays in the points a and b respectively; let drop perpendiculars ac and bd on to the normal NON’. Then we have n.ac = n’.bd, whence we see that if n be greater than n’, ac is less than bd, and therefore when light passes from one medium into another which is less optically dense, in its passage across the boundary it is bent. or refracted, away from the normal. We see, then, that when light falls on the boundary of two different media, some is reflected in the first and some is refracted into the second medium. The relative amounts of light reflected and refracted depend on the angle of incidence and the refractive indices of the media. We shall return to this point when we come to consider the lustre of stones, We will proceed to consider the course of rays at different angles of incidence when light passes out from a medium into one less dense—for instance from water into air. Corresponding to light with a small angle of incidence such as I1O (Fig. 15) some of it is reflected in the direction OI1, and the remainder is refracted out in the direction OR1. Similarly, for the ray I2O some is reflected along OI’2, and some refracted along OR2. Since, in the case we have taken, the angle of refraction is greater than the angle of incidence, the refracted ray corresponding to some incident, ray IcO wil graze the bounding surface, and corresponding a ray beyond it, such as I3O, which has a still greater angle of incidence, there is no refracted ray, and all the light is wholly or totally reflected within the dense medium. The critical angle IcON, which is called the angle of total-reflection, is very simply related to the refractive indices of the two media; for, since r is now a right angle, sin r = 1, and equation (a) becomes n sin i =n’ . . . b
Hence, if the angle of total-reflection is measured and one of the indices is known, the other can easily be calculated. The phenomenon of total-reflection may be appreciated if we hold a glass of water above our head. and view the light of a lamp on a table reflected from the under surface of the water. This reflection is incomparably more brilliant than that given by the upper surface. The refractive index of air is taken as unity; strictly, it is that of a vacuum, but the difference is too small to be appreciated even in very delicate work. Every substance has different indices for light of different colour, and it is customary to take as the standard the yellow light of a sodium flame. This happens to be the colour to which our eves are most sensitive, and a flame of this kind is easily prepared by volatilizing a little bicarbonate of soda in the flame of a bunsen burner. A survey of Table III at the end of the book shows clearly how valuable a measurement of the refractive index is for determining the species to which a cut stone belongs. The values found for different specimens of the species do in cases vary considerably owing to the great latitude possible in the chemical constitution due to the isomorphous replacement of one element by another. Some variation in the index may even occur in different directions within the same stone; it results from the remarkable property of splitting up a beam of light into two beams, which is possessed by many crystallized substances. This forms the subject of a later chapter. Upon the fact that the refractive index of a substance varies for light of different colours depends such familiar phenomena as the splendour of the rainbow and the ‘fire’ of the diamond. When white light is refracted into a stone it no longer remains white, but is split up into a spectrum. Except in certain anomalous substances the refractive index increases progressively as the wave-length of the light decreases, and consequently a normal spectrum is violet at one end and passes through green and yellow to red at the other end. The width of the spectrum, which may be measured by the difference between the refractive indices for the extreme red and violet rays, also varies, though on the whole it increases with the refractive index. It is the dispersion, as this difference is termed, that determines the ‘fire’—a character of the utmost importance in colourless transparent stones, which, but for it, would be lacking in interest. Diamond excels all colourless stones in this respect, although it is closely followed by zircon, the colour of which has been driven off by heating; it is, however, surpassed by two coloured species: sphene, which is seldom seen in jewellery, and demantoid, the green garnet from the Urals, which often passes under the misnomer ‘olivine.’ The dispersion of the more prominent species for the B and G lines of the solar spectrum is given in Table IV at the end of the book. We will now proceed to discuss methods that may be used for the measurement of the refractive indices of cut stones.
CHAPTER IV
MEASUREMENT OF REFRACTIVE INDICES
The methods available for the measurement of refractive indices are of two kinds, and make use of two different principles. The first. which is based upon the very simple relation found in the last chapter to subsist at total-reflection. can be used with ease and celerity, and is best suited for discriminative purposes; but it is restricted in its application. The second, which depends on the measurement of the angle between two facets and the minimum deviation experienced by a ray of light when traversing a prism formed by them, is more involved, entails the use of more élaborate apparatus, and takes considerable time. but it is less restricted in its application.
(1) THE METHOD OF TOTAL-REFLECTION
We see from equation b (p. 18), connecting the angle of total-reflection with the refractive indices of the adjacent media, that, if the denser medium be constant, the indices of all less dense media may be easily determined from a measurement of the corresponding critical angle. In all refractometers the constant medium is a glass with a high refractive index. Some instruments have rotatory parts, by means of which this angle is actually measured. Such instruments give very good results, but suffer from the disadvantages of being neither portable nor convenient to handle, and of not giving a result without some computation. For use in the identification of cut stones, a refractometer with a fixed scale, such as that (Fig. 16) devised by the author, is far more convenient. In order to facilitate the observations, a totally reflecting prism has been inserted between the two lenses of the eyepiece. The eyepiece may be adjusted to suit the individual eyesight; but for observers with exceptionally long sight an adapter is provided, which permits the eyepiece being drawn out to the requisite extent. The refractometer must be held in the manner illustrated in Fig. 17, so that the light from a window or other source of illumination enters the instrument by the lenticular opening underneath. Good, even illumination of the field may also very simply be secured by reflecting light into the instrument from a sheet of white paper laid on a table. On looking down the eyepiece we see a scale (Fig. 18), the eyepiece being, if necessary, focused until the divisions of the scale are clearly and distinctly seen. Suppose, for experiment, we smear a little vaseline or similar fatty substance on the plane surface of the dense glass, which just projects beyond the level of the brass plate embracing it. The field of view is now no longer uniformly illuminated, but is divided into two parts (Fig. 19): a dark portion above, which terminates in a curved edge, apparently green in colour, and a bright portion underneath, which is composed of totally reflected light. If we tilt the instrument downwards so that light enters the instrument from above through the vaseline we find that the portions of the field are reversed, the dark portion being underneath and terminated by a red edge. It is possible so to arrange the illumination that the two portions are evenly lighted, and the common edge becomes almost invisible. It is therefore essential for obtaining satisfactory results that the plate and the dense glass be shielded from the light by the disengaged hand. The shadow-edge is curved. and is, indeed, an arc of a circle, because spherical surfaces are used in the optical arrangements of the refractometer; by the substitution of cylindrical surfaces it becomes straight, but sufficient advantage is not secured thereby to compensate for the greatly increased complexity of the construction. The shadow-edge is coloured, because the relative dispersion, (nv-nr)/n (nv and nr being the refractive indices for the extreme violet and red rays respectively), of the vaseline differs from that of the dense glass. The dispersion of the glass is very high, and exceeds that of any stone for which it can be used. Certain oils have, however nearly the same relative dispersion, and the edges corresponding to them are consequently almost colourless. A careful eye will perceive that the coloured shadow-edge is in reality a spectrum, of which the violet end lies in the dark portion of the field and the red edge merges into the bright portion. The yellow colour of a sodium flame, which, as has already been stated, is selected as the standard for the measurement of refractive indices, lies between the green and the red, and the part of the spectrum to be noted is at the bottom of the green, and practically, therefore, at the bottom of the shadow, because the yellow and red are almost lost in the brightness of the lower portion of the field. If a sodium flame be used as the source of illumination, the shadow-edge becomes a sharply defined line. The scale is so graduated and arranged that the reading where this line crosses the scale gives the corresponding refractive index, the reading, since the line is curved, being taken in the middle of the field on the right-hand side of the scale. The refractometer therefore gives at once, without any intermediate calculation, a value of the refractive index to the second place of decimals, and a skilled observer may, by estimating the tenths of the intervals between successive divisions, arrive at the third place; to facilitate this estimation the semi-divisions beyond 1650 have been inserted. The range extends nearly to 1800; for any substance with a higher refractive index the field is dark as far as the limit at the bottom. A fat, or a liquid, wets the glass, i.e. comes into intimate contact with it, but if a solid substance be tested in the same way, a film of air would intervene and entirely prevent an observation. To displace it, a drop of some liquid which is more highly refractive than the substance under test must first be applied to the plane surface of the dense glass. The most convenient liquid for the purpose is methylene iodide, CH2I2, which, when pure, has at ordinary room temperatures a refractive index of 1742. It is almost colourless when fresh, but turns reddish brown on exposure to light. If desired, it may be cleared in the manner described below (p. 66), but the film of liquid actually used is so thin that this precaution is scarcely necessary. If we test a piece of ordinary glass—one of the slips used by microscopists for covering thin sections is very convenient for the purpose—first applying a drop of methylene iodide to the plane surface of the dense glass of the refractometer (Fig. 20), we notice a coloured shadow-edge corresponding to the glassslip at about 1’530 and another, almost colourless, at 1742, which corresponds to the liquid. If the solid substance which is tested is more highly refractive than methylene iodide, only the latter of the shadow-edges is visible, and we must utilize some more refractive liquid. We can, however, raise the refractive index of methylene iodide by dissolving sulphur2 in it; the refractive index of the saturated liquid lies well beyond 1800, and the shadow-edge corresponding to it, therefore, does not come within the range of the refractometer. The pure and the saturated liquids can be procured with the instrument, the bottles containing them being japanned on the outside to exclude light and fitted with dipping-stoppers, by means of which a drop of the liquid required is easily transferred to the surface of the glass of the instrument. So long as the liquid is more highly refractive than the stone, or whatever may be the substance under examination, its precise refractive index is of no consequence. The facet used in the test must be flat, and must be pressed firmly on the instrument, so that it is truly parallel to the plane surface of the dense glass; for good results, moreover, it must be bright. We have so far assumed that the substance which we are testing is simple and gives a single shadow-edge; but, as may be seen from Table V, many of the gem-stones are doubly refractive, and such will, in general, show in the field of the refractometer two distinct shadow-edges more or less widely separated. Suppose, for example, we study the effect produced by a peridot, which displays the phenomenon to a marked degree. If we revolve the stone so that the facet under observation remains parallel to the plane surface of the dense glass of the refractometer and in contact with it, we notice that both the shadow-edges in general move up or down the scale. In particular cases, depending upon the relation of the position of the facet selected to the crystalline symmetry, one or both of them may remain fixed, or one may even move across the other. But whatever facet of the stone be used for the test, and however variable be the movements of the shadow-edges, the highest and lowest readings obtainable remain the same; they are the principal indices of refraction, such as are stated in Table III at the end of the book, and their difference measures the maximum amount of double refraction possessed by the stone. The procedure is therefore simplicity itself; we have merely to revolve the stone on the instrument. usually through not more than a right angle, and note the greatest and least readings. It will be noticed that the shadow-edges cross the scale symmetrically in the critical and skewwise in intermediate positions. Fig. 21 represents the effect when the facet is such as to give simultaneously the two readings required. The shadow-edges a and b, which are coloured in white light, correspond to the least and greatest respectively of the principal refractive indices, while the third shadow-edge, which is very faint, corresponds to the liquid used—methylene iodide. It is possible, as we shall see in a later chapter, to learn from the motion, if any, of the shadow-edges something as to the character of the double refraction. Since, however, each shadow-edge is spectral in white light, they will not be distinctly separate unless the double refraction exceeds the relative dispersion. Topaz, for instance, appears in white light to yield only a single shadow-edge, and may thus easily be distinguished from tourmaline, in which the double refraction is large enough for the separation of the two shadow-edges to be clearly discerned. In sodium light, however, no difficulty is experienced in distinguishing both the shadow-edges given by substances with small amount of double refraction, such as chrysoberyl, quartz, and topaz, and a skilled observer may detect the separation in the extreme instances of apatite, idocrase, and beryl. The shadow-edge corresponding to the greater refractive index is always less distinct, because it lies in the bright portion of the field. If the stone or its facet be small, it must be moved on the plane surface of the dense glass until the greatest possible distinctness is imparted to the edge or edges. If it be moved towards the observer from the further end, a misty shadow appears to move down the scale until the correct position is reached, when the edges spring into view. Any facet of a stone may be utilized so long as it is flat, but the table-facet is the most convenient, because it is usually the largest, and it is available even when the stone is mounted. That the stone need not be removed from its setting is one of the great advantages of this method. The smaller the stone the more difficult it is to manipulate; caution especially must be exercised that it be not tilted, not only because- the shadow-edge would be shifted from its true position and an erroneous value of the refractive index obtained, but also because a corner or edge of the stone would inevitably scratch the glass of the instrument, which is far softer than the hard gem-stones. Methylene iodide will in time attack and stain the glass, and must therefore be wiped off the instrument immediately after use.
(2) THE METHOD OF MINIMUM DEVIATION If the stone be too highly refractive for a measurement of its refractive index to be possible with the refractometer just described, and it is desired to determine this constant, recourse must be had to the prismatic method, for which purpose an instrument known as a goniometer3 is required.
Two angles must be measured; one the interior angle included between a suitable pair of facets, and the other the minimum amount of the deviation produced by the pair upon a beam of light traversing them. Fig. 22 represents a section of a step-cut stone perpendicular to a series of facets with parallel edges; t is the table, and a, b, c, are facets on the culet side. The path of light traversing the prism formed by the pair of facets, t and b, is indicated. Suppose that A is the interior angle of the prism, i the angle of incidence of light at the first facet and i’ the angle of emergence at the second facet, and r and r’ the angles inside the stone at the two facets FIG. 22.—Path at Minimum Derespectively. Then at the first facet light has been bent through an angle i – r, and again at the second facet through an angle i’ – r’ ; the angle of deviation, D, is therefore given by D = i+i’ – (r+r’). We have further that r+r’=A, whence it follows that A + D = i+i’. If the stone be mounted on the goniometer and adjusted so that the edge of the prism is parallel to the axis of rotation of the instrument and if light from the collimator fall upon the table-facet and the telescope be turned to the proper position to receive the emergent beam, a spectral image of the object-slit, or in the case of a doubly refractive stone in general, two spectral images, will be seen in white light; in the light of a sodium flame the images will be sharp and distinct. Suppose that we rotate the stone in the direction of diminishing deviation and simultaneously the telescope so as to retain an image in the field of view, we find that the image moves up to and then away from a certain position, at which, therefore, the deviation is a minimum. The image moves in the same direction from this position whichever way the stone be rotated. The question then arises what are the angles of incidence and refraction under these special conditions. It is clear that a path of light is reversible; that is to say, if a beam of light averses the prism from the facet t to the facet b. it can take precisely the same path from the facet b to the facet t. Hence we should be led to expect that, since experiment teaches us that there is only one position of minimum deviation corresponding to the same pair of facets, the angles at the two facets must be equal, ie. i =i’, and r =r’. It is, indeed, not difficult to prove by either geometrical or analytical methods that such is the case. Therefore at minimum deviation r= A/2 and i = (A+D)/2 and, since sin i = n sin r, where n is the refractive index of the stone, we have the simple relation n= sin⁡〖(A+D)/2〗/sin⁡〖A/2〗
This relation is strictly true only when the direction of minimum deviation is one of crystalline symmetry in the stone, and holds therefore in general for all singly refractive stones, and for the ordinary ray of a uniaxial stone; but the values thus obtained even in the case of biaxial stones are approximate enough for discriminative purposes. If then the stone be singly refractive, the result is the index required; if it be uniaxial. one value is the ordinary index and the other image gives a value lying between the ordinary and the extraordinary indices; if it be biaxial, the values given by the two images may lie anywhere between the greatest and the least refractive indices. The angle A must not be too large; otherwise the light will not emerge at the second facet, but will be totally reflected inside the stone: on the other hand, it must not be too small, because any error in its determination would then seriously affect the accuracy of the value derived for the refractive index. Although the monochromatic light of a sodium flame is essential for precise work, a sufficiently approximate value for discriminative purposes is obtained by noting the position of the yellow portion of the spectral image given in white light. In the case of a stone such as that depicted in Fig. 22 images are given by other pairs of facets, for instance ta and tc, unless the angle included by the former is too large. There might therefore be some doubt, to which pair some particular image corresponded; but no confusion can arise if the following procedure be adopted. recognizable facet, The table, or some easily is selected as the facet at which light enters the stone. The telescope is first placed in the position in which it is directly opposite the collimator The scale is turned (To in Fig. 23), and clamped. until it reads exactly zero, o or 360, and clamped. The telescope is released and revolved in the direction of increasing readings of the scale to the position of minimum deviation, T. The reading of the scale gives at once the angle of minimum deviation, D. The holder carrying the stone is now clamped to the scale, and the telescope is turned to the position, T1, in which the image given by reflection from the table facet is in the centre of the field of view; the reading of the scale is taken. The telescope is clamped, and the scale is released and rotated until it reads the angle already found for D. If no mistake has been made, the reflected image from the second facet is now in the field of view. It will probably not be quite central, as theoretically it should be, because the stone may not have been originally quite in the position of minimum deviation, a comparatively large rotation of the stone producing no apparent change in the position of the refracted image at minimum deviation, and further, because, as has already been stated, the method is not strictly true for blaxial stones. The difference in readings, however. should not exceed 2. The reading, S, of the scale is now taken, and it together with 180 subtracted from the reading for the first facet, and the value of A, the interior angle between the two facets, obtained. Let us take an example. Reading T (= D) 40 41 Reading T 261° 35 less 180 180 0 81 35 Reading S 41 30 1D 20 201 A 40 5 24 20 21 14 20 24 1(4+D) 40 23 Log sin 40 23 9.81151 Log sin 20 21 9.53492 Log n O.27659 n= 1.8906. The readings S and T are very nearly the same. and therefore we may be sure that no mistake has been made in the selection of the facets, In place of logarithm-tables we may make use of the diagram on Plate II. The radial lines correspond to the angles of minimum deviation and the skew lines to the prism angles, and the distance along the radial lines gives the refractive index. We run our eye along the line for the observed angle of minimum deviation and note where it meets the curve for the observed prism angle; the refractive index corresponding to the point of intersection is at once read off. This method has several obvious disadvantages: it requires the use of an expensive and elaborate instrument, an observation takes considerable time, and the values of the principal refractive indices cannot in general be immediately determined. Table III at the end of the book gives the refractive indices of the gem-stones.
CHAPTER V
LUSTRE AND SHEEN
It has been already stated that whenever light in one medium falls upon the surface separating it from another medium some of the light is reflected within the first, while the remainder passes out into the second medium, except when the first is of lower refractivity than the second and light falls at an angle greater than that of total-reflection. Similarly, when light impinges upon a cut stone some of it is reflected and the remainder passes into the stone. What is the relative amount of reflected light depends upon the nature of the stone—its refractivity and hardness — and determines its lustre; the greater the amount the more lustrous will the stone appear. There are different kinds of lustre, and the intensity of each depends on the polish of the surface. From a dull, ie. an uneven. surface the reflected light is scattered, and there are no brilliant reflections. All gem-stones take a good polish, and have therefore, so long as the surface retains its polish, considerable brilliancy; turquoise, on account of its softness, is always comparatively dull. The different kinds of lustre are(1) Adamantine, characteristic of diamond. (2) Vitreous, as seen on the surface of fractured glass. (3) Resinous, as shown by resins. Zircon and demantoid, the green garnet called by jewellers “olivine,” alone among gem-stones have a lustre approaching that of diamond. The remainder all have a vitreous lustre, though varying in degree, the harder and the more refractive species being on the whole the more lustrous. Some stones—for instance, a cinnamon garnet—appear to have a certain greasiness in the lustre, which is caused by stray reflections from inclusions or other breaks in the homogeneity of the interior. A pearly lustre, which arises from cleavage cracks and is typically displayed by the cleavage face of topaz, would be seen in a cut stone only when flawed. Certain corundums when viewed in the direction of the crystallographical axis display six narrow lines of light radiating at angles of 60° from a centre in a manner suggestive of the conventional representations of stars. Such stones are consequently known as asterias, or more usually starstones—star-rubies or star-sapphires, as the case may be, and the phenomenon is called asterism. These stones have not a homogeneous structure, but contain tube-like cavities regularly arranged at angles of 60° in planes at right angles to the crystallographical axis. The effect is best produced when the stones are cut en cabochon perpendicular to that axis. Chatoyancy is a somewhat similar phenomenon, but in this case the fibres or cavities are parallel to a single direction, and a single broadish band is displayed at right angles to it. Cat’s-eyes, as these stones are termed, are cut en cabochon parallel to the fibres. The true cat’s-eye (Plate XXIX, Fig. 1) is a variety of chrysoberyl, but the term is also often applied to quartz showing a similar appearance. The latter is really a fibrous mineral, such as asbestos, which has become converted into silica. The beautisul tiger’s-eye from South Africa is a silicified crocidolite, the original blue colour of which has been altered by oxidation to golden brown. Recently tourmalines have been discovered which are sufficiently fibrous in structure to display an effective chatoyancy. The milky sheen of moonstone (Plate XXIX. Fig. 4) owes its effect to reflections from twin lamella. The wonderful iridescence which is the glory of opal, and is therefore termed opalescence, arises from a structure which is peculiar to that species. Opal is a solidified jelly; on cooling it has become riddled with extremely thin cracks. which were subsequently filled with similar material of slightly different refractivity, and thus it consists of a series of films. At the surface ot each film interference of light takes place just as at the surface of a soap-bubble, and the more evenly the films are spaced apart the more uniform is the colour displaved. the actual tint depending upon the thickness of the films traversed by the light giving rise to the phenomenon.
CHAPTER VI
DOUBLE REFRACTION
The optical phenomenon presented by many gem-stones is complicated by their property of splitting up a beam of light into two with, in general, differing characters. In this chapter we shall discuss the nature of double refraction, as it is termed, and methods for its detection. The phenomenon is not one that comes within the purview of everyday experience. So long ago as 1669 a Danish physician, by name Bartholinus, noticed that a plate of the transparent mineral which at that time had recently been brought over from Iceland, and was therefore called “Iceland-spar,” possessed the remarkable property of giving a double image of objects close to it when viewed through it. Subsequent investigation has shown that much crystallized matter is doubly refractive, but in calcite—to use the scientific name for the species which includes Iceland-spar—alone among common minerals is the phenomenon so conspicuous as to be obvious to the unaided eve, The apparent separation of the pair of images given by a plate cut or cleaved in any direction depends upon its thickness. The large mass, upwards of two feet (60 cm.) in thickness, which is exhibited at the far end of the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History), displays the separation to a degree that is probably unique. Although none of the gem-stones can emulate calcite in this character, yet the double refraction of certain of them is large enough to be detected without much difficulty. In the case of faceted stones the opposite edges should be viewed through the table-facet, and any signs of doubling noted. The double refraction of sphene is so large, viz. 008, that the doubling of the edges is evident to the unaided eye. In peridot (Fig. 24), zircon (b). and epidote the apparent separation of the edges is easily discerned with the assistance of an ordinary lens. A keen eye can detect the phenomenon even in the case of such substances as quartz with small double refraction. It must, however, be remembered that in all such stones the refraction is single in certain directions, and the amount of double refraction varies therefore with the direction from nil to the maximum possessed by the stone. Experiment with a plate of Iceland-spar shows that the rays transmitted by it have properties differing from those of ordinary light. On superposing a second plate we notice that there are now two pairs of images, which are in general no longer of equal brightness, as was the case before. If the second plate be rotated with respect to the first, two images, one of each pair, disappear, and then the other two, the plate having turned through a right angle between the two positions of extinction; midway between these positions the images are all equally bright. This variation of intensity implies that each of the rays emerging from the first plate has acquired a one-sided character, or, as it is usually expressed, has become plane-polarized, or, shortly, polarized. Before the discovery of the phenomenon of double refraction the foundation of the modern theory of light had been laid by the genius of Huygens. According to this theory light is the result of a wave-motion (Fig. 25) in the ether, a medium that pervades the whole of space whether occupied by matter or not, and transmits the wave-motion at a rate varying with the matter with which it happens to coincide. Such a medium has been assumed because it explains satisfactorily all the phenomena of light, but it by no means follows that it has a concrete existence. Indeed, if it has, it is so tenuous as to be imperceptible to the most delicate experiments. The wave-motion is similar to that observed on the surface of still water when disturbed by a stone flung into it. The waves spread out from the source of disturbance; but, although the waves seem to advance, the actual particles of water merely move up and down, and have no motion at all in the direction in which the waves are moving If we imagine similar motion to take place in any plane and not only the horizontal, we form some idea of the nature of ordinary light. But after passing through a plate of Iceland-spar, light no longer vibrates in all directions, but in each beam the vibrations are parallel to a particular plane, the two planes being at right angles. The exact relation of the direction of the vibrations to the plane of polarization is uncertain, although it undoubtedly lies in the plane containing the direction of the ray of light and the perpendicular to the plane of polarization. The waves for different colours differ in their length, ie. in the distance, 2 bb (Fig. 25), from crest to crest. while the velocity, which remains the same for the same medium, is proportional to the wave-length. The intensity of the light varies as the square of the amplitude of the wave, i.e, the height, ab, of the crest from the mean level. Various methods have been proposed for obtaining polarized light. Thus Seebeck found in 1813 that a plate of brown tourmaline cut parallel to the crystallographic axis and of sufficient thickness (cl. p. 11) transmits only one ray, the other being entirely absorbed within the plate. Another method was to employ a glass plate to reflect light at a certain critical angle. The most efficient method, and that in general use at the present day, is due to the invention of Nicol. A rhomb of Icelandspar (Fig. 26), of suitable length, is sliced along the longer diagonal, dd, and the halves are cemented together by means of canada balsam. One ray, ioo, is totally reflected at the surface separating the mineral and the cement, and does not penetrate into the other half; while the other ray, iee, is transmitted with almost undiminished intensity. Such a rhomb is called a Nicol’s prism after its inventor, or briefly, a nicol. If one nicol be placed above another and their corresponding principal planes be at right angles no light is transmitted through the pair. In the polarizing microscope one such nicol, called the polarizer, is placed below the stage, and the other, called the analyser, is either inserted in the body of the microscope or placed above the eyepiece, and the pair are usually set in the crossed position so that the field of the microscope is dark. If a piece of glass or a fragment of some singly refractive substance be placed on the stage the field still remains dark; but in case of a doubly refractive stone the fleld is no longer dark except in certain positions of the stone. On rotation of the plate, or, if possible, of the nicols together, the field passes from darkness to maximum brightness four times in a complete revolution, the relative angular intervals between these positions being right angles. These positions of darkness are known as the positions of extinction, and the plate is said to extinguish in them. This test is exceedingly delicate and reveals the double refraction even when the greatest difference in the refractive indices is too small to be measured directly. Doubly refractive substances are of two kinds; uniaxial, in which there is one direction of single refraction, and biaxial, in which there are two such directions. In the case of the former the direction of one, the ordinary ray, is precisely the same as if the refraction were single, but the refractive index of the other ray varies from that of the ordinary ray to a second limiting value, the extraordinary refractive index, which may be either greater or less. If the extraordinary is greater than the ordinary refractive index the double refraction is said to be positive; if less, to be negative. A biaxial substance is more complex. It possesses three principal directions, viz., the bisectrices of the directions of single refraction and the perpendicular to the plane containing them. The first two correspond to the greatest and least, and the last to the mean of the principal indices of refraction. If the acute bisectrix corresponds to the least refractive index, the double refraction is said to be positive, and if to the greatest, negative. The relation of the directions of single refraction, s, to the three principal directions, a, b, c, is illustrated in Fig. 27 for the case of topaz, a positive mineral. The refractive indices of the rays traversing one of the principal directions have the values corresponding to the other two. In the direction a we should measure the greatest and the mean of the principal refractive indices, in the direction 6 the greatest and the least. and in the direction c the mean and the least. The maximum amount of double refraction is therefore in the direction b. In the examination of a faceted stone, of the most usual shape, the simplest method is to lay the large facet, called the table, on a b 5 glass slip and view the stone a through the small parallel facet, the culet. Should the latter not exist, it may frequently happen that owing to internal reflection no light emerges through the steeply inclined facets. This difficulty is easily overcome by immersing the stone in some highly refracting oil. A glass plate held by hand over the stone with a drop of the oil between it and the plate serves the purpose, and is perhaps a more convenient method. A stone which does not possess a pair of parallel facets should be viewed through any pair which are nearly parallel. We have stated that a plate of glass has no effect on the field. Suppose, however, it were viewed when placed between the jaws of a tightened vice and thus thrown into a state of strain, it would then show double refraction, the amount of which would depend on the strain. Natural singly refractive substances frequently show phenomena of a similar kind. Thus diamond sometimes contains a drop of liquid carbonic acid, and the strain is revealed by the coloured rings surrounding the cavity which are seen when the stone is viewed between crossed nicols. Double refraction is also common in diamond even when there is no included matter to explain it, and is caused by the state of strain into which the mineral is thrown on release from the enormous pressure under which it was formed. Other minerals which display these so-called optical anomalies, such as fluor and garnet, are not really quite singly refractive at ordinary temperatures each crystal is composed of several double refractive individuals. But all such phenomena cannot be confused with the characters of minerals which extinguish in the ordinary way, since the stone will extinguish in small patches and these will not be dark all at the same time; further, the double refraction is small, and on revolving the stone between crossed nicols the extinction is not sharp. Paste stones are sometimes in a state of strain, and display slight, but general, double refraction. Hence the existence of double refraction does not necessarily prove that the stone is real and not an imitation. Stones may be composed of two or more individuals which are related to each other by twinning, in which case each individual would in general extinguish separately. Such individuals would be larger and would extinguish more sharply than the patches of an anomalous stone. An examination in convergent light is sometimes of service. An auxiliary lens is placed over the condenser so as to converge the light on to the stone. Light now traverses the stone in different directions; the more oblique the direction the greater the distance traversed in the stone. If it be doubly refractive, in any given direction there will be in general two rays with differing refractive indices and the resulting effect is akin to the well-known phenomenon of Newton’s rings, and is an instance of what is termed interference. It may be mentioned that the interference of light (Fig. 28) explains such common phenomena as the colours of a soap-bubble, the hues of tarnished steel, the tints of a layer of oil floating on water, and so on. Light, after diverging from the stone, comes to focus a little beneath the plane in which the image of the stone is formed. An auxiliary lens must, therefore, be inserted to bring the focal planes together, so that the interference picture may be viewed by means of the same evepiece. If a uniaxial crystal be examined along the crystallographic axis in convergent light an interference picture will be seen of the kind illustrated on Plate III. The arms of a black cross meet in the centre of the field, which is surrounded by a series of circular rings, coloured in white light. Rotation of the stone about the axis produces no change in the picture. A blaxial substance possesses two directions (the optic axes) along which a single beam is transmitted. Il such a stone be examined along the line bisecting the acute angle between the optic axes (the acute bisectrix) an interference picture4 I will be seen which in particular positions of the stone with respect to the crossed nicols takes the forms illustrated on Plate III. As before, there is a series of rings which are coloured in white light; they, however are no longer circles but consist of curves known as lemniscates, of which the figure of 8 is a special form. Instead of an unchangeable cross there are a pair of black “brushes” which in one position of the stone are hyperbolae, and in that at right angles become a cross. On rotating the stone we find that the rings move with it and are unaltered in form, whereas the brushes revolve about two points, called the “eyes,” where the optic axes emerge. If the observation were made along the obtuse bisectrix the angle between the optic axes would probably be too large for the brushes to come into the feld and the rings might not be visible in white light though they would appear in monochromatic light In the case of a substance like sphene the figure is not so simple, because the positions of the optic axes vary greatly for the different colours and the result is exceedingly complex; in monochromatic light, however, the usual figure is visible. It would probably not be possible in the case of a faceted stone to find a pair of faces perpendicular to the required direction. Nevertheless, so long as a portion of the figures described is in the field of view, the character of the double refraction, whether uniaxial or biaxial, may readily be determined. There is yet another remarkable phenomenon which must not be passed over. Certain substances, of which quartz is a conspicuous example and in this respect unique among the gem-stones, possess the remarkable property of rotating the plane of polarization of a ray of light which is transmitted parallel to the optic axis. If a plate of quartz be cut at right angles to the axis and placed between crossed nicols in white light, the field will be coloured, the hue changing on rotation of one nicol Examination in with respect to the other. monochromatic light shows that the field will become dark after a certain rotation of the one nicol with respect to the other, the amount of which depends on the thickness of the plate. If the plate be viewed in convergent light, an interference picture is seen as illustrated on Plate III, which is similar to, and yet differs in some important particulars from the ordinary interference picture of a uniaxial stone. The cross does not penetrate beyond the innermost ring and the centre of the field is coloured in white light. If a stone shows such a picture, it may be safely assumed to be quartz. It is interesting to note that minerals which possess this property have a spiral arrangement of the constituent atoms. It has already been remarked (p. 28) that if a faceted doubly refractive stone be rotated with one facet always in contact with the dense glass of the refractometer the pair of shadow-edges that are visible in the field move up or down the scale in general from or to maximum and minimum positions. The manner in which this movement takes place depends upon the character of the double refraction and the position of the facet under observation with regard to the optical symmetry of the stone. In the case of a uniaxial stone, if the facet be perpendicular to the crystallographic axis, ze. the direction of single refraction, neither of the shadow-edges will move. If the facet be parallel to that direction, one shadow-edge will move up and coincide with the other, which remains invariable in position, and away from it to a second critical position; the latter gives the value of the extraordinary refractive index, and the invariable shadowedge corresponds to the ordinary refractive index. This phenomenon is displayed by the table-facet of most tourmalines, because for reasons given above (p. I1) they are as a rule cut parallel to the crystallographic axis. In the case of facets in intermediate positions, the shadow-edge corresponding to the extraordinary refractive index moves, but not to coincidence with the invariable shadow-edge. The case of a biaxial stone is more complex. If the facet be perpendicular to one of the principal directions one shadow-edge remains invariable in position, corresponding to one of the principal refractive indices, whilst the other moves between the critical values corresponding to the remaining two of the principal refractive indices. In the interesting case in which the facet is parallel to the two directions of single refraction, the second shadowedge moves across the one which is invariable in position. In intermediate positions of the facet both shadow-edges move, and give therefore critical values. Of the intermediate pair, i.e. the lower maximum and the higher minimum, one corresponds to the mean principal refractive index, and the other depends upon the relation of the facet to the optical symmetry. If it is desired to distinguish between them, observations must be made on a second facet; but for discriminative purposes such exactitude is unnecessary, since the least and the greatest refractive indices are all that are required. The character of the refraction of gem-stones is given in Table V at the end of the book.
CHAPTER VII
ABSORPTION EFFECTS: COLOUR, DICHROISM. ETC.
When white light passes through a cut stone, colour effects result which arise from a variety of causes. The most obvious is the fundamental colour of the stone, which is due to its selective absorption of the light passing through it, and would characterize it before it was cut. Intermingled with the colour in a transparent stone is the dispersive effect known as ‘fire,’ which has already been discussed (p. 20). In many instances the want of homogeneity is responsible for some peculiar effects such as opalescence, chatoyancy, and asterism. These phenomena will now be considered in fuller detail. COLOUR All substances absorb light to some extent. If the action is slight and affects equally the whole of the visible spectrum, the stone appears white or colourless. Usually some portion is more strongly absorbed than the rest, and the stone seems to be coloured. What is the precise tint depends not only upon the portions transmitted through the stone, but also upon their relative intensities. The eye, unlike the ear, has not the power of analysis and it cannot of itself determine how a composite colour has been made up. Indeed, so far as it is concerned, any colour may be exactly matched by compounding in certain proportions three simple primary colours—red, yellow, and violet. Alexandrite, a variety of chrysoberyl, is a curious and instructive case. The balance in the spectrum of light transmitted through it is such that, whereas in daylight such stones appear green, in artificial light, especially in gas-light, they are a pronounced raspberry-red (Plate XXVII, Figs. I1, 13). The phenomenon is intensified by the strong dichroism characteristic of this species. The colour is the least reliable character that may be employed for the identification of a stone, since it varies considerably in the same species, and often results from the admixture of some metallic oxide, which has no essential part in the chemical composition and is present in such minute quantities as to be almost imperceptible by analysis. Who would, for instance, imagine from their appearance that stones so markedly diverse in hue as ruby and sapphire were really varieties of the same species, corundum? Again, quartz, in spite of the simplicity of its composition, displays extreme differences of tint. Nevertheless, certain varieties do possess a distinctive colour, emerald being the most striking example, and in other cases the trained eye can appreciate certain characteristic subtleties of shade. At any rate, the colour is the most obvious of the physical characters, and serves to provide a rough division of the species, and accordingly in Table II at the end of the book the gem-stones are arranged by their usual tints.
DICHROISM The two rays into which a doubly refractive stone splits up a ray of light are often differently absorbed by it, and in consequence appear on emergence differently coloured; such stones are said to be dichroic. The most striking instance is a deepbrown tourmaline, which, except in very thin sections, is quite opaque to the ordinary ray. The light transmitted by a plate cut parallel to the crystallographic axis is therefore plane-polarized; before the invention by Nicol of the prism of Iceland-spar known by his name this was the ordinary method of obtaining light of this character (cf. p. 43). Again, in the case of kunzite and cordierite the difference in colour is so marked as to be obvious to the unaided eye; but where the contrast is less pronounced we require the use of an instrument called a dichroscope, which enables the twin colours to be seen side by side. Fig. 29 illustrates in section the construction of a dichroscope. The instrument consists essentially of a rhomb of Iceland-spar, S, of such a length as to give two contiguous images (Fig. 30) of a square hole, H, in one end of the tube containing it. In some instruments the terminal faces of the rhomb are ground at right angles to its length, but usually, as in that depicted, prisms of glass, G, are cemented on to the two ends. A cap C, with a slightly larger hole, which is circular in shape, fits on the end of the tube, and can be moved up and down it and revolved round it, as desired. The stone, R, to be tested may be directly attached to it by means of some kind of wax or cement in such a way that light which has traversed it passes into the window, H, of the instrument; the cap at the same time permits of the rotation of the stone about the axis of the main tube of the instrument. The dichroscope shown in the figure has a still more convenient arrangement; it is provided with an additional attachment, A, by means of which the stone can be turned about an axis at right angles to the length of the tube, and thus examined in different directions. At the other end of the main tube is placed a lens, L, of low power for viewing the twin images: the short tube containing it can be pushed in and out for focusing purposes. Many makers now place the rhomb close to the lens, Z, and thereby require a much smaller pièce of spar; material suitable for optical purposes is fast growing scarce. Suppose that a plate of tourmaline cut parallel to its crystallographic axis is fastened to the cap and the latter rotated. We should notice, on looking through the instrument, that in the course of a complete revolution there are two positions, orientated at right angles to one another, in which the tints of the two images are identical, the positions of greatest contrast of tint being midway between. If we examine a uniaxial stone in a direction at right angles to its optic axis we obtain the colours corresponding to the ordinary and the extraordinary rays. In any direction less inclined to the axis we still have the colour for the ordinary ray, but the other colour is intermediate in tint between it and that for the extraordinary ray. The phenomenon presented by a biaxial stone is more complex. There are three principal colours which are visible in differing pairs in the three principal optical directions; in other directions the tints seen are intermediate between the principal colours, Since biaxial stones have three principal colours, they are sometimes said to be trichroic or pleochroic. but in any single direction they have two twin colours and show dichroism. No difference at all will be shown in directions in which a stone is singly refractive, and it is therefore always advisable to examine a stone in more than one direction lest the first happens to be one of single refraction. For déterminative purposes it is not necessary to note the exact shades of tint of the twin colours, because they vary with the inherent colour of the stone, and are therefore not constant for the same species; we need only observe, when the stone is tested with the dichroscope, whether there is any variation of colour and, if so, its strength. Dichroism is a result ot double refraction, and cannot exist in a singly refractive stone. The converse, however, is not true and it by no means follows that, because no dichroism can be detected in a stone, it is singly refractive. A colourless stone, for instance, cannot possibly be dichroic, and many coloured, doubly refractive stones—for example, zircon—exhibit no dichroism, or so little that it is imperceptible. The character is always the better displayed, the deeper the inherent colour of the stone. The deep-green alexandrite, for instance, is far more dichroic than the lighter coloured varieties of chrysoberyl. If the stone is attached to the cap of the instrument, the table should be turned towards it so as to assure that the light passing into the instrument has actually traversed the stone. If little light enters through the opposite coign, a drop of oil placed thereon will overcome the difficulty (cf. p. 46). It is also necessary, for reasons mentioned above, to examine the stone in directions as far as possible across the girdle also. A convenient, though not strictly accurate, method is to lay the stone with the table facet on a table and examine the light which has entered the stone and been reflected at that facet. The stone may easily be rotated on the table, and observations thus made in different directions in the stone. Care must be exercised in the case of a faceted stone not to mistake the alteration in colour due to dispersion for a dichroic effect, and the stone must be placed close to the instrument during an observation, because otherwise the twin rays traversing the instrument may have taken sensibly different directions in the stone. Dichroism is an effective test in the case of ruby; its twin colours—purplish and yellowish red—are in marked contrast, and readily distinguish it from other red stones. Again, one of the twin colours of sapphire is distinctly more yellowish than the other; the blue spinel, of which a good many have been manufactured during recent years, is singly refractive, and, of course, shows no difference of tint in the dichroscope. Table VI at the end of the book gives the strength of the dichroism of the gem-stones.
ABSORPTION SPECTRA A study of the chromatic character of the light transmitted by a coloured stone is of no little interest. As was stated above, the eye has not the power of analysing light, and to resolve the transmitted rays into their component parts an instrument known as a spectroscope is needed. The small ‘direct-vision type has ample dispersion for this purpose. It is advantageous to employ by preference the diffraction rather than the prism form, because in the former the intervals in the resulting spectrum corresponding to equal differences of wave-length are the same, whereas in the latter they diminish as the wave-length increases and accordingly the red end of the spectrum is relatively cramped. The absorptive properties of all doubly refractive coloured substances vary more or less with the direction in which light traverses them according to the amount of dichroism that they possess, but the variation is not very noticeable unless the stone is highly dichroic. If the light transmitted by a deepcoloured ruby be examined with a spectroscope it will be found that the whole of the green portion of the spectrum is obliterated (Fig. 31), while in the case of a sapphire only a small portion of the red end of the spectrum is absorbed. Alexandrite affords especial interest. In the spectrum of the light transmitted by it, the violet and the yellow are more or less strongly absorbed, depending upon the direction in which the rays have passed through the stone (Fig. 31), and the transmitted light is mainly composed of two portions—red and green. The apparent colour of the stone depends, therefore, upon which of the two predominates. In daylight the resultant colour is green flecked with red and orange, the three principal absorptive tints (cf. p. 235), but in artificial light, which is relatively stronger in the red portion of the spectrum, the resultant colour is a aspberry-red, and there is less apparent difference in the absorptive tints (cf. Plate XXVII, Figs. 11, 13). In all the spectra just considered, and in all like them, the portions that are absorbed are wide, the passage from blackness to colour is gradual, and the edges deliminating them are blurred. In the spectra of certain zircons and in almandine garnet the absorbed portions, or bands as they are called, are narrow, and, moreover, the transition from blackness to colour is sharp and abrupt; such stones are therefore said to display absorption-bands. Church in 1866 was the first to notice the bands shown by zircon (Fig. 31). Sorby thought they portended the existence of a new element, to which he gave the name jargonium, but subsequently discovered that they were caused by the presence of a minute trace of uranium. A yellowish-green zircon shows the phenomenon best, and it has all the bands shown in the figure. The spectrum varies slightly but almost imperceptibly with the direction in the stone. Others show the bands in the yellow and green, while others show only those in the red, and some only one of them. The bands are not confined to stones of any particular colour, or amount of double refraction. Again, many zircons show no bands at all, so that their absence by no means precludes the stone from being a zircon. Almandine is characterized by a different spectrum (Fig. 31). The band in the yellow is the most conspicuous, and is no doubt responsible for the purple hue of a typical almandine. The spectrum varies in strength in different stones. Rhodolite (p. 214), a garnet lying between almandine and pyrope, displays the same bands, and indications of them may be detected in the spectra of pyropes of high refraction.
CHAPTER VIII
SPECIFIC GRAVITY
It is one of our earliest experiences that different substances of the same size have often markedly different weights; thus, there is a great difference between wood and iron, and still greater between wood and lead. It is usual to say that iron is heavier than wood, but the statement is misleading, because it would be possible by selecting a large enough piece of wood to find one at least as heavy as a particular piece of iron. We have, in fact, to compare equal volumes of the two substances, and all ambiguity is removed if we speak of relative density or specific gravity—the former term being usually applied to liquids and the latter to solids—instead of weight or heaviness. The density of water at 4° C. is taken as unity, that being the temperature at which it is highest; at other temperatures it is somewhat lower, as will be seen from Table IX given at the end of the book. The direct determination of the volume of an irregular solid presents almost insuperable difficulty; but, fortunately, for finding the specific gravity it is quite unnecessary to know the volume, as will be shown when we proceed to consider the methods in use. The specific gravity of a stone is a character which is within narrow limits constant for each species, and is therefore very useful for discriminative purposes. It can be determined whatever be the shape of the stone, and it is immaterial whether it be transparent or not; but, on the other hand, the stone must be unmounted and free from the setting. The methods for the determination of the specific gravity are of two kinds: in the first a liquid is found of the same, or nearly the same, density as the stone, and in the second weighings are made and the use of an accurate balance is required.
(1) HEAVY LIQUIDS Experiment tells us that a solid substance floats in a liquid denser than itself, sinks in one less dense, and remains suspended at any level in one of precisely the same density. If the stone be only slightly less dense than the liquid, it will rise to the surface; if it be just as slightly denser, it will as surely sink to the bottom, a physical fact which has added so much to the difficulty and danger of submarine manoeuvring. If then we can find a liquid denser than the stone to be tested, and place the latter in it, the stone will float on the surface. If we take a liquid which is less dense than the stone and capable of mixing with the heavier liquid, and add it to the latter, drop by drop, gently stirring so as to assure that the density of the combination is uniformly the same throughout, a stage is finally reached when the stone begins to move downwards. It has now very nearly the density of the liquid, and, if we find by some means this density, we know simultaneously the specific gravity of the stone. Various devices and methods are available for ascertaining the density of liquids—for instance, Westphal’s balance; but, apart from the inconvenience attending such a determination, the density of all liquids is somewhat seriously affected by changes in the temperature, and it is therefore better to make direct comparison with fragments of substances of known specific gravity, which are termed indicators. If of two fragments differing slightly in specific gravity one floats on the surface of a uniform column of liquid and the other lies at the bottom of the tube containing the liquid, we may be certain that the density of the liquid is intermediate between the two specific gravities. Such a precaution is necessary because, if the liquid be a mixture of two distinct liquids, the density would tend to increase owing to the greater volatility of the lighter of them, and in any case the density is affected by change of temperature. The specific gravity of stones is not much altered by variation in the temperature. A more convenient variation of this method is to form a diffusion column, so that the density increases progressively with the depth. If the stone under test floats at a certain level in such a column intermediate between two fragments of known specific gravity, its specific gravity may be found by elementary interpolation. To form a column of this kind the lighter liquid should be poured on to the top of the heavier. Natural diffusion gives the most perfect column, but, being a lengthy process, it may conveniently be quickened by gently shaking the tube, and the column thus formed gives results sufficiently accurate for discriminative purposes. By far the most convenient liquid for ordinary use is methylene iodide, which has already been recommended for its high refraction. It has, when pure, a density at ordinary room-temperatures of 3.324, and it is miscible in all proportions with benzol, whose density is 0.88, or toluol, another hydrocarbon which is somewhat less volatile than benzol, and whose density is about the same, namely, 0.86. When fresh, methylene iodide has only a slight tinge of yellow, but it rapidly darkens on exposure to light owing to the liberation of iodine which is in a colloidal form and cannot be removed by filtration. The liquid may, however, be easily cleared by shaking it up with any substance with which the iodine combines to form an iodide remoyable by filtration. Copper filings answer the purpose well, though rather slow in action; mercury may also be used, but is not very satisfactory, because a small amount may be dissolved and afterwards be precipitated on to the stone under test, carrying it down to the bottom of the tube. Caustic potash (potassium hydroxide) is also recommended; in this case the operation should preferably be carried out in a special apparatus which permits the clear liquid to be drawn off underneath, because water separates out and floats on the surface. In Fig. 32 three cut stones, a quartz (a), a beryl (b), and a tourmaline (c) are shown floating in a diffusion column of methylene iodide and benzol. Although the beryl is only slightly denser than the quartz, it floats at a perceptibly lower level. These three species are occasionally found as yellow stones of very similar tint. Various other liquids have been used or proposed for the same purpose, of which two may be mentioned. The first of them is a saturated solution of potassium iodide and mercuric iodide in water, which is known after the discoverer as Sonstadt’s solution. It is a clear mobile liquid with an amber colour, having at 12° C. a density of 3.085; it may be mixed with water to any extent, and is easily concentrated by heating; moreover, it is durable and not subject to alteration of any kind; on the other hand, it is highly poisonous and cauterizes the skin, not being checked by albumen; it also destroys brass-ware by amalgamating the metal. The second is Klein’s solution, a clear yellow liquid which has at 15° C. a density of 3.28. It fusion Column consists of the boro-tungstate of cadmium, of which the formula is 9WO3B2O3.2CdO.2H2O + 16Aq, dissolved in water. with which it may be diluted. If the salt be heated. it fuses at 75° C. in its own water of crystallization to a yellow liquid, very mobile, with a density of 3.55. Klein’s solution is harmless, but it cannot compare for convenience of manipulation with methylene iodide. The most convenient procedure is to have at hand three glass tubes, fitted with stoppers or corks. to contain liquids of different densities (a) Methylene iodide reduced to 2.7; using as indicators orthoclase 2.55, quartz 2.66, and beryl 2.74. (b) Methylene iodide reduced to 3.1; indicators, beryl 2.74 and tourmaline 3.10. (c) Methylene iodide, undiluted, 3.32. The pure liquid in the last tube should on no account be diluted; but the density of the other two liquids may be varied slightly, either by adding benzol in order to lower it, or by allowing benzol, which has far greater volatility than methylene iodide, to evaporate, or by adding methylene iodide, in order to increase it. The density of the liquids may be ascertained approximately from the indicators. A glance at the table of specific gravities shows that as regards the gem-stones methylene iodide is restricted in its application, since it can be used to test only moonstone, quartz, beryl, tourmaline, and spodumene; opal and turquoise, being amorphous and more or less porous, should not be immersed in liquids, lest the appearance of the stone be irretrievably injured. Methylene iodide readily serves to distinguish the yellow quartz from the true topaz, with which jewellers often confuse it, the latter stone sinking in the liquid; again aquamarine floats, but the blue topaz, which is often very similar to it, sinks in methylene iodide. By saturating methylene iodide with iodine and iodoform, we have a liquid (d) of density 3.6; a fragment of topaz, 3.55, may be used to indicate whether the liquid has the requisite density. Unfortunately this saturated solution is so dark as to be almost opaque, and is, moreover, very viscous. Its principal use is to distinguish diamond, 3.535, from the brilliant colourless zircon, with which, apart from a test for hardness, it may easily be confused. It is easy to see whether the stone floats, as it would do if a diamond. To recover a stone which has sunk, the only course is to pour off the liquid into another tube, because it is far too dark for the position of the stone to be seen. It is possible to employ a similar method for still denser stones by having recourse to Retgers’s salt, silver-thallium nitrate. This double salt is solid at ordinary room-temperatures, but has the remarkable property of melting at a temperature, 75° C., which is well below the point of fusion of either of its constituents, to a clear, mobile yellow liquid, which is miscible in any proportion with water, and has, when pure, a density of 4.6. The salt may be purchased, or it may be prepared by mixing 100 grams of thallium nitrate and 64 grams of silver nitrate, or similar proportions, in a little water, and heating the whole over a water-bath keeping it constantly stirred with a glass rod until it is liquefied. The two salts must be mixed in the correct proportions, because otherwise the mixture might form other double salts, which do not melt at so low a temperature. A glance at the table of specific gravities shows that Retgers’s salt may be used for all the gem-stones with the single exception of zircon (b). There are, however, some objections to its use. It is expensive, and, unless kept constantly melted, it is not immediately available. It darkens on exposure to strong sunlight like all silver salts, stains the skin a peculiar shade of purple which is with difficulty removed, and in fact only by abrasion of the skin, and, like all thallium compounds, is highly poisonous. It is convenient to have three tubes, fitted as before with stoppers or corks, to contain the following liquids, when heated: (e) Silver-thallium nitrate, reduced to 3.5; using as indicators, peridot or idocrase 3.40 and topaz 3.53. (f) Silver-thallium nitrate, reduced to 4.0; indicators, topaz 3.53 and sapphire 4.03. (g) Silver-thallium nitrate, undiluted, 4.6. The tubes must be heated in some form of waterbath; an ordinary glass beaker serves the purpose satisfactorily. The pure salt should never be diluted; but the density of the contents of tubes (e) and (f) may be varied at will, water being added in order to lower the density, and concentration by means of evaporation or addition of the nitrate being employed in order to increase it. To avoid the discoloration of the skin, rubber fingerstalls may be used, and the stones should not be handled until after they have been washed in warm water. The staining may be minimized if the hands be well washed in hot water before being exposed to sunlight. It is advisable to warm the stone to be tested in a tube containing water beforehand lest the sudden heating develop cracks. A piece of platinum, or, failing that, copper wire is of service for removing stones from the tubes; a glass rod, spoon-shaped at one end, does equally well. It must be noted that although Retgers’s salt is absolutely harmless to the ordinary gemstones—with the exception of opal and turquoise, which, as has already been stated, being to some extent porous, should not be immersed in liquidsit attacks certain substances, for instance, sulphides and cannot be applied indiscriminately to minerals. The procedure described above is intended only as a suggestion; the method may be varied to any extent at will, depending upon the particular requirements. If such tests are made only occasionally, a smaller number of tubes may be used. Thus one tube may be substituted for the two marked a and b, the liquid contained in it being diluted as required, and a series of indicators may be kept apart in small glass tubes. On the other hand, any one having constantly to test stones might increase the number of tubes with advantage, and might find it useful to have at hand fragments of all the principal species in order to make direct comparison.
(2) DIRECT WEIGHING The balance which is necessary in both the methods described under this head should be capable of giving results accurate to milligrams, ie. the thousandth part of a gram, and consistent with that restriction the beam may be as short as possible so as to give rapid swings and thus shorten the time taken in the observations. A good assay balance answers the purpose admirably. Of course, it is never necessary to wait till the balance has come to rest. The mean of the extreme readings of the pointer attached to the beam will give the position in which it would ultimately come to rest. Thus, if the pointer just touches the eighth division on the right-hand side and the second on the other, the mean position is the third division on the right-hand side (1/2(8 – 2) = 3). Instead of the ordinary form of chemical balance, Westphal’s form or Joly’s spring-balance may be employed. Weighings are made more quickly, but are not so accurate. In refined physical work the practice known as double-weighing is employed to obviate any slight error there may be in the suspension of the balance. A counterpoise which is heavier than anything to be weighed is placed in one pan, and weighed. The counterpoise is retained in its pan throughout the whole course of the weighings. Any substance whose weight is to be found is placed in the other pan, and weights added till the balance swings truly again. The difference between the two sets of weights evidently gives the weight of the substance. Balances, however, are so accurately constructed that for testing purposes such refined précautions are not really necessary. It is immaterial in what notation the weighings are made, so long as the same is used throughout, but the metric system of weights, which is in universal use in scientific work, should preferably be employed. Jewellers, however, use carat weights, and a subdivision to the base 2 instead of decimals. the fractions being 1/2, 1/4, 1/8, 1/16, 1/32, 1/64. If these weights be employed, it will be necessary to convert these fractions into decimals, and write 1/2 =.500, 1/4 =.250, 1/8 =.125, 1/16 =.062, 1/32=.031, 1/64=,016.
(a) Hydrostatic Weighing
The principle of this method is very simple, The stone, the specific gravity of which is required, is first weighed in air and then when immersed in water. If W and W’ be these weights respectively, then W – W’ is evidently the weight of the water displaced by the stone and having therefore the same volume as it, and the specific gravity is therefore equal to W/(W-W’) .If the method of double-weighing had been adopted, the formula would be slightly altered. Thus, suppose that c corresponds to the counterpoise, w and w’ to the stone weighed in air and water respectively; then we have W=c-w and W=c-w’, and therefore the specific gravity is equal to (c-w)/(w^’-w). Some precautions are necessary in practice to assure an accurate result. A balance intended for specific gravity work is provided with an auxiliary pan (Fig. 33), which hangs high enough up to permit of the stone being suspended underneath. The weight of anything used for the suspension must, of course, be determined and subtracted from the weight found for the stone, both when in air and when in water. A piece of fine silk is generally used for suspending the stone in water, but it should be avoided, because the water tends to creep up it and the error thus introduced affects the first place of decimals in the case of a one-carat stone, the value being too high. A piece of brass wire shaped into a cage is much to be preferred. If the same cage be habitually used, its weight in air and when immersed in water to the customary extent in such determinations should be found once for all. Care must also be taken to remove all air-bubbles which cling to the stone or the cage; their presence would tend to make the value too low. The surface tension of water which makes it cling to the wire prevents the balance swinging freely, and renders it difficult to obtain a weighing correct to a milligram when the wire dips into water. This difficulty may be overcome by substituting a liquid such as toluol, which has a much smaller surface tension. As has been stated above, the density of water at 4° C. is taken as unity, and it is therefore necessary to multiply the values obtained by the density of the liquid, whatever it be, at the temperature of the observation. In Table IX, at the end of the book, are given the densities of water and toluol at ordinary room-temperatures. It will be noticed that a correct reading of the temperature is far more important in the case of toluol. Example of a Hydrostatic Determination of Specific GravityWeight of stone in air =1.471 gram Weight of stone in water= 1.067 Specific gravity= 1.471/(1.471-1.067)= 1.471/0.404 .
Allowing for the density of water at the temperature of the room, which was 16° C., the specific gravity is 3.637. Had no such allowance been made, the result would have been four units too high in the third place of decimals. For discriminative purposes, however, such refinement is unnecessary. (b) Pycnometer, or Specific Gravity Bottle The specific gravity bottle is merely one with a fairly long neck on which a horizontal mark has been scratched, and which is closed by a ground glass stopper. The pycnometer is a refined variety of the specific gravity bottle. It has two openings: the larger is intended for the insertion of the stone and the water, and is closed by a stopper through which a thermometer passes, while the other. which is exceedingly narrow, is closed by a stopper fitting on the outside, and is graduated to facilitate the determination of the height of the water in it. The stone is weighed as in the previous method. The bottle is then weighed, and filled with water up to the mark and weighed again. The stone is now introduced into the bottle, and the surplus water removed with blotting-paper or otherwise until it is at the same level as before, and the bottle with its contents is weighed. Let W be the weight of the stone, w the weight of the bottle, W’ the weight of the bottle and the water contained in it. and W’’ the weight of the bottle when containing the stone and the water. Then W’-w is the weight of the water filling the bottle up to the mark, and W’’- w- W is the reduced weight of water after the stone has been inserted; the difference, W+W’- W’’, is the weight of the water displaced. The specific gravity is therefore W/(W+W^’+W”). As in the previous method, this value must be multiplied by the density of the liquid at the temperature of the experiment. If the method of double-weighing be adopted, the formula will be slightly modified. Of the above methods, that of heavy liquids, as it is usually termed, is by far the quickest and the most convenient for stones of ordinary size, the specific g avity of which is less than the density of pure methylene iodide, namely, 3.324, and by its aid a value may be obtained which is accurate to the second place of decimals, a result quite sufficient for a discriminative test. The method is applicable no matter how small the stone may be, and, indeed, for very small stones it is the only trustworthy method; for large stones it is inconvenient, not only because of the large quantity of liquid required, but also on account of the difficulty in estimating with sufficient certainty the position of the centre of gravity of the stone. A negative determination may be of value, especially if attention be paid to the rate at which the stone falls through the liquid; the denser the stone the faster it will sink, but the rate depends also upon the shape of the stone. Retgers’s salt is less convenient because of the delay involved in warming it and of the almost inevitable staining of the hands, but its use presents no difficulty whatever. Hydrostatic weighing is always available, unless the stone be very small, but the necessary weighings occupy considerable time, and care must be taken that no error creeps into the computation, simple though it be. Even if everything is at hand, a détermination is scarcely possible under a quarter of an hour. The third method, which takes even longer, is intended primarily for powdered substances, and is not recommended for cut stones, unless there happen to be a number of tiny ones which are known to be exactly of the same kind. The specific gravities of the gem-stones are given in Table VII at the end of the book.
CHAPTER IX
HARDNESS AND CLEAVABILITY
Every possessor of a diamond ring is aware that diamond easily scratches window-glass. If other stones were tried, it would be found that they also scratched glass, but not so readily, and. if the experiment were extended, it would be found that topaz scratches quartz, but is scratched by corundum, which in its turn yields to the allpowerful diamond. There is therefore considerable variation in the capacity of precious stones to resist abrasion, or, as it is usually termed, in their hardness. To simplify the mode of expressing this character the mineralogist Mohs about a century ago devised the following arbitrary scale, which is estill in general use. MOHS’S SCALE OF HARDNESS 1. Talc 2. Gypsum 3. Calcite 4. Fluor 5. Apatite 6. Orthoclase 7. Quartz 8. Topaz 9. Corundum 10. Diamond
A finger-nail scratches gypsum and softer substances. Ordinary window-glass is slightly softer than orthoclase, and a steel knife is slightly harder; a hardened file approaches quartz in hardness, and easily scratches glass. By saying that a stone has hardness 7 we merely mean that it will not scratch quartz, and quartz will not scratch it. The numbers indicate an order. and have no quantitative significance whatever. This is an important point about which mistakes are often made. We must not, for instance, suppose that diamond has twice the hardness of apatite. As a matter of fact, the interval between diamond and corundum is immensely greater than that between the latter and talc, the softest of mineral substances. Intermediate degrees of hardness are expressed by fractions. The number 81/2 for chrysoberyl means that it scratches topaz as easily as it itself is scratched by corundum. Pyrope garnet is slightly harder than quartz, and its hardness is said therefore to be 71/4. Delicate tests show that the structure of all crystallized substances is more or less grained, like that of wood, and the hardness for the same stone varies in different directions. Kyanite is unique in this respect, since its hardness ranges from 5 to 7; it can therefore be scratched by a knife in some directions, but not in others. In most substances, however, the range is so small as to be quite imperceptible. Slight variation is also apparent in the hardness of different specimens of the same species, The diamonds from Borneo and New South Wales are so distinctly harder than those from South Africa and other localities that, when first discovered. some difficulty was experienced in cutting them. Again, lapidaries find that while Ceylon sapphires are harder than rubies, Kashmir sapphires are softer. Hardness is a character of fundamental importance in a stone intended for ornamental wear, since upon it depends the durability of the polish and brilliancy. Ordinary dust is largely composed of grains of sand, which is quartz in a minute form, and a gem-stone should therefore be at least as hard as that. Paste imitations are little harder than 5, and consequently, as experience shows, their polish does not survive a few weeks’ wear. Hardness is, however, of little use as a discriminative test except for distinguishing between topaz or harder stone and paste. Diamond is so much harder than other stones that it will leave a cut in glass quite different from the scratch of even corundum. Paste, being so soft, readily yields to the file, and is thus easily distinguished from genuine stones. In applying the test to a cut stone, it is best to remove it from its mount and try the effect on the girdle, because any scratch would be concealed afterwards by the setting. Any mark should be rubbed with the finger to assure that it is not due to powder from the scratching agent; confusion may often be caused in this way when the two substances are of nearly the same hardness. The degrees of hardness of the gem-stones are given in Table VIII at the end of the book. It must not be overlooked that extreme hardness is compatible with cleavability in certain directions intimately connected with the crystalline structure the property, in fact, characterizes many mineral species of different degrees of hardness. Diamond çan be split in four directions parallel to the faces of the regular octahedron, a property utilized by the lapidary for shaping a stone previous to cutting it. Topaz cleaves with considerable ease at right angles to the principal crystallographic axis. Felspar has two directions of cleavage nearly at right angles to one another. The new gem-stone, kunzite, needs cautious handling owing to the facility with which it splits in two directions mutually inclined at about 70°. All stones are more or less brittle, and will be fractured by a sufficiently violent blow, but the irregular surface of a fracture cannot be mistaken for the brilliant flat surface given by a cleavage, The cleavage is by no means induced with equal facility in the species mentioned above. A considerable effort is required to split diamond, but in the case of topaz or kunzite incipient cleavage in the shape of flaws may be started if the stone be merely dropped on to a hard floor.
CHAPTER X
ELECTRICAL CHARACTERS
The definite orientation of the molecular arrangement of crystallized substances leads in many cases to attributes which vary with the direction and are revealed by the electrical properties. If a tourmaline crystal be heated in a gas or alcohol flame it becomes charged with electricity, and, since it is at the same time a bad conductor, static charges of opposite sign appear at the two ends. Topaz shows similar characters, but in a lesser degree. Quartz, if treated in the same way, shows charges of opposite sign on different sides, but the phenomenon may be masked by intimate twinning and consequent overlapping of the contrary areas. The phenomenon may also be seen when the stones are cut. The most convenient method for detecting the existence of the electrical charges is that devised by Kundt. A powder consisting of a mixture of red lead and sulphur is placed in a bellows arrangement and blown through a sieve at one end on to the stone. Owing to the friction the particles become electrified—red lead positively and sulphur negatively—and are attracted by the charges of opposing sign, which will therefore be betrayed by the colour of the dust at the corresponding spot. The powder must be kept dry; otherwise a chemical reaction may occur leading to the formation of lead sulphide, recognizable by its black colour. Bücker has suggested as an alternative the use of sulphur, coloured red with carmine. the negative element, and yellow lycopodium, the positive element. Diamond, topaz, and tourmaline are powerful enough, when electrified by friction with a cloth, to attract fragments of paper, the electrification being positive. Amber develops considerable negative electricity when treated in a similar manner. Diamond is translucent to the Röntgen (X) rays; glass, on the other hand, is opaque to them, and this test distinguishes brilliants from paste imitations. Diamond also, unlike glass, phosphoresces under the influence of radium, a property characterizing also kunzite. It will be seen that the electrical characters, although of considerable interest to the student. are, on account of their limited application and difficulty of test, of little service for the discrimination of gem-stones.
PART I—SECTION B
THE TECHNOLOGY OF GEMSTONES
CHAPTER XI
UNIT OF WEIGHT
The system in use for recording the weights of precious stones is peculiar to jewellery. The unit, which is known as the carat, bears no simple relation to any unit that has existed among European nations, and indubitably has been introduced from the East. When man in early days sought to record the weights of small objects, he made use of the most convenient seeds or grains which were easily obtainable and were at the same time nearly uniform in size. In Europe the smallest unit of weight was the barley grain. Similarly in the East the seeds of some leguminous tree were selected. Those of the locust-tree, Ceratonia siliqua, which is common in the countries bordering the Mediterranean, on the average weigh so nearly a carat that they almost certainly formed the original unit. It is, indeed, from the Greek κεράτιον, little horn, which refers to the shape of the pods, that the word carat is derived. It is one of the eccentricities of the jewellery trade that precision should not have been given to the unit of weight. Not only does it vary at most of the trade centres in the world, but it is not even always constant at each centre. The difference is negligible in the case of single stones of ordinary size, but becomes a matter of serious importance when large stones, or parcels of small stones, are bought and sold, particularly when the stones are very costly. Attempts have been made at various times to secure a uniform standard, but as yet with only partial success. In 1871 the carat defined as the equivalent of 0.20500 gram was suggested at a meeting of the principal jewellers of Paris and London, and was eventually accepted in Paris, New York, Leipzig, and Borneo. It has. however, recently been recognized that in view of the gradual spread of the metric system of weights and measures the most satisfactory unit is the metric carat of one-fifth (0.2) gram. This has now been constituted the legal carat of France and Belgium, and no doubt other countries will follow their example. The carat weight obtaining in London weighs about 0.20530 gram, and the approximate equivalents in the gram at other centres are as follows: —Florence 0.19720, Madrid 0.20539, Berlin 0.20544, Amsterdam 0.20579. Lisbon 0.20575, Frankfort-on-Main 0.20577, Vienna 0.20613, Venice 0.20700, and Madras 0.20735. The gram itself is inconveniently large to serve as a unit for the generality of stones met with in ordinary jewellery. The notation for expressing the sub-multiples of the carat forms another curious eccentricity. Fractions are used which are powers of the half; thus the half, the half of that, ie. the quarter, and so on down to the sixty-fourth, and the weight of a stone is expressed by a series of fractions, e.g. 31/2 1/8 1/64 carats. In the case of diamond a single unreduced fraction to the base 64 is substituted in place of the series of single fractions, and the weight of a stone is stated thus, 44/6 0/4 carats. With the introduction of the metric carat the more convenient and rational decimal notation would, of course, be simultaneously adopted. Figs. 34-39 illustrate the exact sizes of diamonds of certain weights, when cut as brilliants. The sizes of other stones depends upon their specific gravity, the weight varying as the volume multiplied by the specific gravity. Quartz, for instance, has a low specific gravity and would be perceptibly larger, weight for weight; zircon, on the other hand, would be smaller. It has been found more convenient to select a smaller unit in the case of pearls, namely, the pearl-grain, four of which go to the carat. Stencil gauges are in use for measuring approximately the weight in carats of diamond brilliants and of pearls, which in both instances must be unmounted. A more accurate method for determining the weight of diamonds has been devised by Charles Moe, which is applicable to either unmounted or mounted stones. By means of callipers, which read to three-tenths of a millimetre, the diameter and the depth of the stone are measured, and by reference to a table the corresponding weight is found; allowance is made for the varying fineness of the girdle, and, in the case of large stones, for the variation from a strictly circular section. Since this chapter was written the movement in favour of the metric carat has made rapid progress, and this unit will soon have been adopted as the legal standard all over the world, even in countries, such as the British Isles and the United States, where the metric system is not in use. The advantage of an international unit is too obvious to need arguing.
CHAPTER XII
FASHIONING OF GEM-STONES
Although many of the gem-stones have 11 been endowed by nature with brilliant lustrous faces and display scintillating reflections from their surfaces, yet their form is never such as to reveal to full perfection the optical qualities upon which their charm depends. Moreover, the natural faces are seldom perfect; as a rule the stones are broken either through some convulsion of the earth’s crust or in course of extraction from the matrix in which they have lain, or they are roughened by attrition against matter of greater hardness, or worn by the prolonged action of water, or etched by solvents. Beautiful octahedra of diamond or spinel have been mounted without further embellishment. but even their appearance might have been much improved at the lapidary’s hands. By far the oldest of the existing styles of cutting is the rounded shape known as cabochon, a French word derived from the Latin cabo, a head. In the days of the Roman Empire the softer stones were often treated in this manner; such stones were supposed to be beneficial to those suffering from short-sightedness, the reason no doubt being that transparent stones when cut as a double cabochon formed a convex lens. According to Pliny, Nero had an emerald thus cut, through which he was accustomed to view the gladiatorial shows. This style of cutting was long a favourite for coloured stones, such as emerald, ruby, sapphire, and garnet, but has been abandoned in modern practice except for opaque, semi-opaque, and imperfect stones. The crimson garnet, which was at one time known by the name carbuncle, was so systematically thus cut that the word has come to signify a red garnet of this form. It was a popular brooch-stone with our grandmothers, but is no longer in vogue. The East still retains a taste for stones cut in the form of beads and drilled through the centre; the beads are threaded together, and worn as necklaces. The native lapidaries often improve the colour of pale emeralds by lining the hole with green paint. The cabochon form may be of three different kinds. In the first, the double cabochon (Fig. 40), both the upper and the under sides of the stones are curved. The curvature, however, need not be the same in each case; indeed, it is usually markedly different, Moonstones and starstones are generally cut very steep above and shallow underneath. Occasionally a ruby or a sapphire is, when cut in this way, set with the shallow side above, because the light that has penetrated into the stone from above is more wholly reflected from a steep surface with consequent increase in the glow of colour from the stone. Opals are always cut higher on the exposed side, but the slope of the surface varies considerably; they are generally cut steeply when required for mounting in rings. Chrysoberyl cat’s-eyes are invariably cut with curved bases in order to preserve the weight as great as possible. The double cabochon form with a shallow surface underneath merges into the second kind (Fig. 41) in which the under side is plane, the form commonly employed for quartz cat’s-eyes, and occasionally also for carbuncles. In this type the plane side is invariably mounted downwards. In the third form (Fig. 42) the curvature of the under surface is reversed, and the stone is hollowed out into a concave shape. This style is reserved for dark stones, such as carbuncles, which, if cut at all thick, would show very little colour. A piece of foil is often placed in the hollow in order to increase the reflection of light, and thus to heighten the colour effect. In early days it was supposed that the extreme hardness of diamond precluded the possibility of fashioning it, and up to the fifteenth century all that was done was to remove the gum-like skin which disfigured the Indian stones and to polish the natural facets. The first notable advance was made in 1475, when Louis de Berquem discovered, as it is said quite by accident, that two diamonds if rubbed together ground each other. With confident courage he essayed the new art upon three large stones entrusted to him by Charles the Bold, to the entire satisfaction of his patron. The use of wheels or discs charged with diamond dust soon followed, but at first the lapidaries evinced their victory over such stubborn material by grinding diamond into divers fantastic shapes, and failed to realize how much might be done to enhance the intrinsic beauty of the stones by the means now at their disposal. The Indian lapidaries arrived at the same discovery independently, and Tavernier found, when visiting the country in 1665, a large number of diamond cutters actively employed. If the stone were perfectly clear, they contented themselves with polishing the natural facets; but if it contained flaws or specks, they covered it with numerous small facets haphazardly placed. The stone was invariably left in almost its original shape, and no effort was made to improve the symmetry. For a long time little further progress wasmade, and even nearly a century after Berquem the only regular patterns known to Kentmann, who wrote in 1562, were the diamond-point and the diamond-table The former consisted of the natural (Figs. 43-44). octahedron facets ground to regular shape, and was long employed for the minute stones which were set in conjunction with large coloured stones in rings. The table represented considerably greater labour. One corner of the regular octahedron was ground down until the artificial facet thus produced was half the width of the stone, while the opposite corner was slightly ground. Still another century elapsed before the introduction of the rose pattern, which comprised twentyfour triangular facets and a flat base (Figs. 45-46), the stone being nearly hemispherical in shape. This style is said to have been the invention of Cardinal Mazarin, but probably he was the first to have diamonds of any considerable size cut in this form. At the present day only tiny stones are cut as roses. A few more years passed away, and at length at the close of the seventeenth century diamond came by its own when Vincenzio Peruzzi, a Venetian, introduced the brilliant form of cutting, and revealed for the first time its amazing ‘fire. Except for minor changes this form remains to this day the standard style for the shape of diamond, and the word brilliant is commonly employed to denote diamond cut in this way. So obviously and markedly superior is the style to all others that upon its discovery the owners of large roses had them re-cut as brilliants despite the loss in weight necessitated by the change. The brilliant form is derived from the old table by increasing the number of facets and slightly altering the angles pertaining to the natural octahedron. In a perfect brilliant (Figs. 47-49) there are altogether 58 facets, 33 above and 25 below the girdle, as the edge separating the upper and lower portions of the stone is termed, which are arranged in the following manner. Eight starfacets, triangular in shape, immediately surround the large table-facet. Next come four large templets or bezels, quadrilateral in form, arranged in pairs on opposite sides of the table-facet, the four quoins or lozenges, similar in shape, coming intermediately between them; in modern practice. however, these two sets are identical in shape and size, and there are consequently eight facets of the same kind instead of two sets of four. The eight cross or skew facets and the eight skill facets, in both sets the shape being triangular, form the boundary of the girdle; modern brilliants usually have instead sixteen facets of the same shape and size. The above 33 facets lie above the girdle and form the crown of the stone. Immediately opposite and parallel to the table is the tiny culet. Next to the latter come the four large pavilion facets with the four quoins intermediately between them, both sets being five-sided but nearly quadrilateral in shape; these again are usually combined into eight facets of the same size. Eight cross facets and eight skill facets, both sets, like those in the crown, being triangular in shape, form the lower side of the girdle; these also are generally united into a set of sixteen similar facets. These 25 facets which lie below the girdle comprise the ‘pavilion.’ or base of the stone. In a regular stone properly cut a templet is nearly parallel to a pavilion, and an upper to a lower cross facet. The contour of the girdle is usually circular, but occasionally assumes less symmetrical shapes, as for instance in dropstones or pendeloques, and the facets are at the same time distorted. The number of facets may with advantage be increased in the case of large stones. An additional set of eight star facets is often placed round the culet, the total number then being 66. It may be mentioned that the largest stone cut from the Cullinan has the exceptional number of 74 facets. In order to secure the finest optical effect certain proportions have been found necessary. The depth of the crown must be one-half that of the base, and therefore one-third the total depth of the stone, and the width of the table must be slightly less than half that of the stone. The culet should be quite small, not more in width than one-sixth of the table; it is, in fact, not required at all except to avoid the danger of the point splintering. The girdle should be as thin as is compatible with rength sufficient to prevent chipping in the process of mounting the stone; if it were left thick, the rough edge would be visible by reflection at the lower facets, and would, especially if at all dirty, seriously affect the quality of the stone. The shape of the stone is largely determined by the sizes of the templets in the crown and the pavilions in the base as compared with that of the table, or, what comes to the same thing, by the inclinations at which they are cut to that facet. If the table had actually half the width of the stone, the angle5 between it and a templet would be exactly half a right angle or 45°; it is, however, made somewhat smaller, namely, about 40°. A pavilion. being parallel to a templet, makes a similar angle with the culet. The cross facets are more steeply inclined, and make an angle of about 45 with the table or the culet, as the case may beThe star facets, on the other hand, slant perceptibly less, and make an angle of only about 26° with the table. A latitude of some 4° or 5° is possible without seriously affecting the ‘fire’ of the stone. The object of the disposition of the facets on a brilliant is to assure that all the light that enters the stone, principally by way of the table, is wholly reflected from the base and emerges through the crown, preferably by way of the inclined facets. A brilliant-cut diamond, if viewed with the table between the observer and the light, appears quite dark except for the small amount of light escaping through the culet. Light should therefore fall on the lower facets at angles greater than the critical angle of totalreflection, which for diamond is 24° 26’. The pavilions should be inclined properly at double this angle, or 48° 52’, to the culet; but a ray that emerges at a pavilion in the actual arrangement entered the table at nearly grazing incidence, and the amount of light entering this facet at such acute perspective is negligible. On the other hand. after reflection at the base light must, in order to emerge, fall on the crown at less than the critical angle of total-reflection. In Fig. 50 are shown diagram matically the paths of rays that entered the table in divers ways. The ray emerging again at the table suffers little or no dispersion and is almost white, but those coming out through the inclined facets are split up into the rainbow effect, known as fire, for which diamond is so famous. It is in order that so much of the light entering by the table may emerge through the inclined facets of the crown that the pavilions are inclined at not much more than 40° to the culet. It might be suggested that instead of being faceted the stone should be conically shaped, truncated above and nearly complete below. The result would no doubt be steadier, but, on the other hand, far less pleasing It is the ever-changing nuance that chiefly attracts the eye; now a brilliant flash of purest white, anon a gleam of cerulean blue, waxing to richest orange and dying in a crimson glow, all intermingled with the manifold glitter from the surface of the stone. Absolute cleanliness is essential if the full beauty of any stone is to be realized, but this is particularly true of diamond. If the back of the stone be clogged with grease and dirt, as so often happens in claw-set rings, light is no longer wholly reflected from the base; much of it escapes, and the amount of ‘fire’ is seriously diminished. Needless to state, lapidaries make no careful angular measurements when cutting stones, but judge of the position of the facets entirely by eve. It sometimes therefore happens that the permissible limits are overstepped, in which event the stone is dead and may resist all efforts to vivify it short of the heroic course of re-cutting it, too expensive a treatment in the case of small stones. The factors that govern the properties of a brilliant-cut stone are large colour-dispersion, high refraction, and freedom from any trace of intrinsic colour. The only gem-stone that can vie with diamond in these respects is zircon. Although it is rare to find a zircon naturally without colour, vet many kinds are easily deprived of their tint by the application of heat. A brilliant-cut zircon is, indeed. far from readily distinguished by eye from diamond. and has probably often passed as one, but it may easily be identified by its large double refraction (ct. p. 41) and inferior hardness. The remaining colourless stones, such as white sapphire, topaz, and quartz (rock-crystal), have insufficient refractivity to give total-reflection at the base, and, moreover, they are comparatively deficient in ‘fire.’ A popular style of cutting which is much in vogue for coloured stones is the step- or trap-cut, consisting of a table and a series of facets with parallel horizontal edges (Figs. 51-52) above and below the girdle; in recent jewellery, however, the top of the stone is often brilliant-cut. The contour may be oblong, square, lozenge, or heart-shaped, or have less regular forms. The table is sometimes slightly rounded. Since the object of this style is primarily to display the intrinsic colour of the stone and not so much a brilliant play of light from the interior, no attempt is made to secure total-reflection at the lower facets. The stone therefore varies in depth according to its tint; if dark, it is cut shallow, lest light be wholly absorbed within, and the stone appear practically opaque, but if light, it is cut deep, in order to secure fullness of- tint. Much precision in shape and disposition of the facets is not demanded, and the stones are usually cut in such a way that, provided the desired effect is obtained, the weight is kept as great as possible; we may recall that stones are sold by weight. In considering what will be the optical effect of any particular shape, regard must be had to the effective colour of the transmitted light. For instance, although sapphire and ruby belong to the same species and have the same refractive indices, yet, since the former transmits mainly blue and the latter red light, they have for practical purposes appreciably different indices, and lapidaries find it therefore possible to cut the base of ruby thicker than that of sapphire, and thus keep the weight greater. It is instructive too what can be done with the most unpromising material by the exercise of a little ingenuity, Thus Ceylon sapphires are often so irregularly coloured that considerable skill is called for in cutting them. A stone may, for instance, be almost colourless except for a single spot of blue; yet, if the stone be cut steeply and the spot be brought to the base, the effect will be precisely the same as if the stone were uniformly coloured. because all the light emerging from the stone has passed through the spot at the base and therefore been tinted blue. The mechanism employed in the fashioning of gei-stones is simple in character, and comprises merely metal plates or wheels for slitting, and discs or laps for grinding and polishing the stones, the former being set vertically and rotated about horizontal spindles, and the latter set horizontally and rotated about vertical spindles. Mechanical power is occasionally used for driving both kinds of apparatus, but generally, especially in slitting and in delicate work, hand-power is preferred. In the East native lapidaries make use of vertical wheels (Plate XIII) also for grinding and polishing stones, which explains why native-cut stones never have truly plane facets; it will be noticed from the picture that a long bow is used to drive the spindle. Owing to the unique hardness of diamond it can be fashioned only by the aid of its own powder. The process differs therefore materially from the cutting of the remaining gem-stones, and will be described separately. Indeed, so different are the two classes of work that firms seldom habitually undertake both. The discovery of the excellent cleavage of diamond enormously reduced the labour of cutting large stones. A stone containing a bad flaw may be split to convenient shape in as many minutes as the days or even weeks required to grind it down. The improvement in the appliances and the provision of ample mechanical power has further accelerated the process and reduced the cost. Two years were occupied in cutting the diamond known as the Pitt or Regent, whereas in only six months the colossal Cullinan was shaped into two large and over a hundred smaller stones with far less loss of material. Although the brilliant form was derived from the regular octahedron, it by no means follows that, because diamond can be cleaved to the latter form, such is the initial step in fashioning the rough mass. The aim of the lapidary is to cut the largest possible stone from the given piece of rough, and the finished brilliant usually bears no relation whatever to the natural octahedron. The cleavage is utilized only to free the rough of an awkward and useless excrescence, or of flaws. Although the octahedron is one of the common forms in which diamond is found, it is rarely regular, and oftener than not one of the larger faces is made the table. The old method, which is still in use, for roughly fashioning diamonds is that known as bruting, from the French word, brutage, for the process, or as shaping. Two stones of about the same size are selected, and are firmly attached by means of a hard cement to the ends of two holders, which are held one in each hand, and rubbed hard, one against the other, until surfaces of the requisite size are developed on each stone. During the process the stones are held over a small box, which catches the precious powder. A fine sieve at the bottom of the box allows the powder to fall through into a tray underneath, but holds back anything larger. By means of two vertical pins placed one on each side of the box the holders are retained more easily in the desired position, and the work is thrown mainly on the thumbs. This work continued day after day has a very disfiguring effect upon the hands despite the thick gloves that are worn to protect them; the skin of the thumbs grows hard and horny, and the first and second fingers become swollen and distorted. When the surfaces have thus been formed, the stone is handed to the polisher, who works them into the correct shape and afterwards polishes them, the stone passing backwards and forwards several times between the cutter and the polisher. The table, four templets, culet and four pavilions are first formed and polished, so that the table has a square shape. Next the quoins are developed and polished, and finally the small facets are polished on, not being shaped first. In modern practice the process of bruting has been modified in some cases by the introduction of machinery, and the facets are ground on, with considerable improvement in the regularity of their size and disposition, and reduction in the amount of polishing required. Moreover, to obviate the loss of material resulting from continued grinding, large stones are first sliced by means of rapidly-revolving copper wheels charged with diamond powder. The laps used for polishing diamonds are made of a particular kind of soft iron, which is found to surpass any other metal in retaining the diamond powder. They are rotated at a high rate of speed, which is about 2000 to 2500 revolutions a minute, and the heat developed by the friction at this speed is too great for a cement to be used; a solder or fusible alloy, composed of one part tin to three parts lead, therefore takes its place. The solder is held in a hollow cup of brass which is from its shape called a dop, an old Dutch word meaning shell. Its external diameter is ordinarily about 1½ in. (4 cm.), but larger dops are, of course, used for large stones. A stout copper stalk is attached to the bottom of the dop; it is visible in the view of the dop shown at e on Plate VI, and two slabs of solder are seen lying in front of the dop. The dop containing the solder is placed in the midst of a non-luminous flame and heated until the solder softens, when it is removed by means of the small tongs, c, and placed upright on a stand such as that shown at a. The long tongs, d, are used for shaping the solder into a cone at the apex of which the diamond is placed. The solder is worked well over the stone so that only the part to undergo polishing is exposed. A diamond in position is shown at. The top of the stand is saucer-shaped to catch the stone should it accidentally fall off the dop, and to prevent pieces of solder falling on the hand. While still hot, the dop with the diamond in position on the solder is plunged into cold water in order to cool it. The fact that the stone withstands this drastic treatment is eloquent testimony to its good thermal conductivity, other gem-stones would promptly split into fragments. It may be remarked that so high is the temperature at which diamond burns that it may be placed in the gas flame without any fear of untoward results. The dop is now ready for attachment to an arm such as that shown at b the stalk of the dop is placed in a groove running across the split end of the arm, and is gripped tight by means of a screw worked by the nut which is visible in the picture. Four such arms, each with a dop, are used with the polishing lap (Plate VII), and each stands on two square legs on the bench. Pins, %, in pairs are fixed to the bench to prevent the arms being carried round by the friction; one near the lap holds the arm not far from the dop, and the other engages in a strong metal tongue, which is best seen at the end of the arm b on Plate VI. Though the arm, which is made of iron, is heavy, yet for polishing purposes it is insufficient, and additional lead weights are laid on the top of it, as in the case of the arm at the back on Plate VII. The copper stalk is strong. yet flexible, and can be bent to suit the position of the facet to be polished; on Plate VII the dops a and 6 are upright, but the other two are inclined. In addition to the powder resulting from bruting, boart, i.e. diamonds useless for cutting, are crushed up to supply polishing material, and a little olive oil is used as a lubricant. Owing to the friction so much heat is developed that even the solder would soften after a time, and therefore, as a precaution, the dop is from time to time cooled by immersion in water. The stone has constantly to be re-set, about six being the maximum even of the tiny facets near the girdle that can be dealt with by varying the inclination of the dop. As the work approaches completion the stone is frequently inspected, lest the polishing be carried too far for the development of the proper amount of fire. When finished, the stones are boiled in sulphuric acid to remove all traces of oil and dirt. The whole operation is evidently rough and ready in the extreme; but such amazing skill do the lapidaries acquire, that even the most careful inspection by eye alone would scarce detect any want of proper symmetry in a well-cut stone. The fashioning of coloured stones, as all the gem-stones apart from diamond are termed in the jewellery trade, is on account of their inferior hardness a far less tedious operation. They are easily slit, for which purpose a vertical wheel (Plate VIII) made of soft iron is used; it is charged with diamond dust and lubricated with oil, generally paraffin. When slit to the desired size, the stone is attached to a conveniently shaped holder by means of a cement, the consistency of which varies with the hardness of the stone. It is set in the cement in such a way that the plane desired for the table facet is at right angles to the length of the holder. and the whole of the upper part or crown is finished before the stone is removed from the cement. The lower half or base is treated in a similar manner. Thus in the process of grinding and polishing the stone is only once re-set; as was stated above. diamond demands very different treatment. Again. all coloured stones are ground down without any intermediate operation corresponding to bruting. The holder is merely held in the hand, but to maintain its position more exactly its other end, which is pointed, is inserted in one of the holes that are pierced at intervals in a vertical spindle placed at a convenient distance from the lap (Plate VIII). which one depending upon the inclination of the facet to be formed. For hard stones, such as ruby and sapphire, diamond powder is generally used as the abrasive agent, while for the softer stones emery, the impure corundum, is selected; in recent years the artificially prepared carborundum, silicide of carbon corresponding to the formula CSi, which is harder than corundum, has come into vogue for grinding purposes, but it is unfortunately useless for slitting, because it refuses to cling to the wheel. To efface the scratches left by the abrasive agent and to impart a brilliant polish to the facets, material of less hardness, such as putty-powder, pumice, or rouge, is employed; in all cases the lubricant is water. The grinding laps are made of copper, gun-metal, or lead; and pewter or wooden laps, the latter sometimes faced with cloth or leather, are used for polishing. As a general rule, the harder the stone the greater the speed of the lap. As in the case of diamond, the lapidary judges of the position of the facet entirely by eye and touch, but a skilled workman can develop a facet very close to the theoretical position. During recent years various devices have been invented to enable him to do his work with greater facility. A machine of this kind is illustrated on Plate IX. The stone is attached by means of cement to the blunt end, d, of the holder, b, which is of the customary kind, while the other end is inserted in a hole in a wooden piece, a, which is adjustable in height by means of the screw above it. The azimuthal positions of the facets are arranged by means of the octagonal collar. b, the sides of which are held successively in turn against the guide, e. The stand itself is clamped to the bench. The machine is, however, little used except for cheap stones, because it is too accurate and leads to waste of material. Stones are sold by weight, and so long as the eye is satisfied. no attempt is made to attain to absolute symmetry of shape. The pictures on Plates X-XIII illustrate lapidaries’ workshops in various parts of the world. The first two show an office and a workshop situated in Hatton Garden, London; in the former certain of the staff are selecting from the parcels stones suitable for cutting. The third depicts a more primitive establishment at Ekaterinburg in the Urals. The fourth shows a typical French family—père, mère, et fils—in the Jura district, all busily engaged; on the table will be noticed a faceting machine of the kind described above. In the fifth picture a native lapidary in Calcutta is seen at work with the driving bow in his right, and the stone in his left, hand. A curious difference exists in the systems of charging for cutting diamonds and coloured stones. The cost of cutting the lattér is reckoned by the weight of the finished stone, the rate varying from Ts. to 8s. a carat according to the character of the stone and the difficulty of the work; while in the case of diamonds, on the other hand, the weight of the rough material determines the cost, the rate being about 1os. to 40s. a carat according to the size, which on the average is equivalent to about 30s. to 120s. a carat calculated on the weight of the finished stone. The reason of the distinction is obviously because the proper proportions in a brilliant-cut diamond must be maintained. whatever be the loss in weight involved; in coloured stones the shape is not of such primary importance. When finished, the stone finds its way with others akin to it to the manufacturing jeweller’s establishment, where it is handed to the setter, who mounts it in a ring, necklace, brooch, or whatever article of jewellery it is intended for. The metal used in the groundwork of the setting is generally gold, but platinum» is also employed where an unobtrusive and untarnishable metal is demanded. and silver finds a place in cheaper jewellery, although it is seriously handicapped by its susceptibility to the blackening influence of the sulphurous fumes present in the smoke-laden atmosphere of towns. The stone may be either embedded in the metal or held by claws. The former is by far the safer, but the latter the more elegant, and it has the advantage of exposing the stone a jour, to use the French jewellers’ expression, so that its genuineness is more evidently testified. It is very important that the claw setting be periodically examined, lest the owner one day experience the mortification of finding that a valuable stone has dropped out; gold, owing to its softness, wears away in course of time. Op to quite recent years modern jewellery was justly open to the criticism that it was lacking in variety, that little attempt was made to secure harmonious association in either the colour or the lustre of the gem-stones, and that the glitter of the gold mount was frequently far too obtrusive. Gold consorts admirably with the rich glow of ruby, but is quite unsuited to the gleaming fire of a brilliant. Where the metal is present merely for the mechanical purpose of holding the stones in position, it should be made as little nôticeable as possible. The artistic treatment of jewellery is, however, receiving now adequate attention in the best Paris and London houses. Some recent designs are illustrated on Plates IV and V.
CHAPTER XIII
NOMENCLATURE OF PRECIOUS STONES
The names in popular use for the principal gem-stones may be traced back to very early times, and, since they were applied long before the determinative study of minerals had become a science, their significance has varied at different dates, and is even now far from precise. No ambiguity or confusion could arise if jewellers made use of the scientific names for the species, but most of them are unknown or at least unfamiliar to those unversed in mineralogy, and to banish old-established names is undesirable, even if the task were not hopeless. The name selected for a gem-stone may have a very important bearing on its fortunes. When the love-sick Juliet queried ‘What’s in a name?’ her mind was wandering far from jewels; for them a name is everything. The beautiful red stones that accompany the diamond in South Africa were almost a drug in the market under their proper title—garnet, but command a ready sale under the misnomer ‘Cape-ruby. To many minds there is a subtle satisfaction in the possession of a stone which is assumed to be a sort of ruby that would be destroyed by the knowledge that the stone really belonged to the cinderella species of gem-stones—the despised garnet. For similar reasons it was deemed advisable to offer the lustrous green garnet found some thirty and odd years ago in the Ural Mountains as olivine, not a happy choice since their colour is grass- rather than olive-green, apart from the fact that the term is in general use in science for the species known in jewellery as peridot. The names employed in jewellery are largely based upon the colour, the least reliable from a determinative point of view of all the physical characters of gem-stones. Qualifying terms are employed to distinguish stones of obviously different hardness. ‘Oriental’ distinguishes varieties of corundum, but does not imply that they necessarily came from the East; the finest gem-stones originally reached Europe by that road, and the hardest coloured stones consequently received that term of distinction. Nearly all red stones are grouped under the name ruby, which -is derived from a Latin word. ruber, meaning red, or under other names adapted from it, such as rubellite, rubicelle. It is properly applied to red corundum; ‘balas’ ruby is spinel. which is associated with the true ruby at the Burma mines and is similar in appearance to it when cut. and ‘Cape’ ruby, is, as has been stated above, a garnet from South Africa. Rubellite is the lovely rose-pink tourmaline, fine examples of which have recently been discovered in California, and rubicelle is a less pronouncedly red spinel. Sapphire is by far the oldest and one of the most interesting of the words used in the language of jewels. It occurs in Hebrew and Persian, ancient tongues, and means blue. It was apparently employed for lapis lazuli or similar substance, but was transferred to the blue corundum upon the discovery of this splendid stone. Oblivious of the real meaning of the word, jewellers apply it in a quasi-generic sense to all the varieties of corundum with the exception of the red ruby, and give vent to such incongruous expressions as ‘white sapphire,’ ‘yellow sapphire’; it is true such stones often contain traces of blue colour, but that is not the reason of the terms. ‘Brazilian’ sapphire is blue tourmaline, a somewhat rare tint for this species. The curious history of the word topaz will be found below in the chapter dealing with the species of that name. It has always denoted a yellow stone, and at the present day is applied by jewellers indiscriminately to the true topaz and citrine, the vellow quartz, the former, however, being sometimes distinguished by the prefix ‘Brazilian.’ ‘Oriental’ topaz is corundum, and ‘occidental’ topaz is a term occasionally employed for the yellow quartz. Emerald, which means green, was first used for chrysocolla, an opaque greenish stone (p. 288), but was afterwards applied to the priceless green variety of beryl, for which it is still retained. ‘Oriental’ emerald is corundum, ‘Brazilian’ emerald in the eighteenth century was a common term for the green tourmaline recently introduced to Europe, and ‘Uralian’ emerald has been tentatively suggested for the green garnet more usually known as ‘olivine.’ Amethyst is properly the violet quartz, but with the prefix ‘oriental’ it is also applied to violet corundum, though some jewellers use it for the brilliant quartz, with purple and white sectors, from Siberia. Almandine, which is derived from the name of an Eastern mart for precious stones, has come to signify a stone of columbine-red hue, principally garnet, but with suitable qualification corundum and spinel also. The nomenclature of jewellery tends to suggest relations between the gem-stones for which there is no real foundation, and to obscure the essential identity, except from the point of view of colour. of sapphire and ruby, emerald and aquamarine, cairngorm and amethyst.
CHAPTER XIV
MANUFACTURED STONES
The initial step in the examination of a crystallized substance is to determine its physical characters and to resolve it by chemical analysis into its component elements; the final, and by far the hardest, step is to build it up or synthetically prepare it from its constituents. Unknown to the world at large, work of the latter kind has long been going on within the walls of laboratories, and as the advance in knowledge placed in the hands of experimenters weapons more and more comparable with those wielded by nature, their efforts have been increasingly successful. So stupendous, however, are the powers of nature that the possibility of reproducing, by human agency, the treasured stones which are extracted from the earth in various parts of the globe at the cost of infinite toil and labour has always been derided by those ignorant of what had already been accomplished. Great. therefore, was the consternation and the turmoil when concrete evidence that could not be gainsaid showed that man’s restless efforts to bridle nature to his will were not in vain, and congresses of all the high-priests of jewellery were hastily convened to ban such unrighteous products, with what ultimate success remains to be seen. Crystallization may be caused in four different ways, of which the second alone has as yet vielded stones large enough to be cut1. By the separation of the substance from a saturated solution. In nature the solvent may not be merely hot water, or water charged with an acid. but molten rock, and the temperature and the pressure may be excessively high. 2. By the solidification of the liquefied substance upon cooling. Ice is a familiar example of this type. 3. By the sublimation of the vapour of the substance, which means the direct passage from the vapour to the solid state without traversing the usually intervening liquid state. It is usually the most difficult of attainment of the four methods: the most familiar instance is snow. 4. By the precipitation of the substance from a solution when set free by chemical action. Other things being equal, the simpler the composition the greater is the ease with which a substance may be expected to be formed; for, instead of one complex substance, two or more different substances may evolve, unless the conditions are nicely arranged. Attempts, for instance, to produce beryl might result instead in a mixture of chrysoberyl, phenakite, and quartz. By far the simplest in composition of all the precious stones is diamond, which is pure crystallized carbon; but its manufacture is attended by wellnigh insuperable difficulties. If carbon be heated in air, it burns at a temperature well below its melting point; moreover, unless an enormously high pressure is simultaneously applied, the product is the other form of crystallized carbon, namely, the comparatively worthless graphite. Moissans interesting course of experiments were in some degree successful, but the tiny diamonds were worthless as jewels, and the expense involved in their manufacture was out of all proportion to any possible commercial value they might have. Next to diamond the simplest substances among précious stones are quartz (crystallized silica) and corundum (crystallized alumina). The crystallization of silica has been effected in several ways, but the value in jewellery of quartz, even of the violet variety, amethyst, is not such as to warrant its manufacture on a commercial scale. Corundum. on the other hand, is held in high esteem; rubies and sapphires, of good colour and free from flaws, have always commanded good prices. The question of their production by artificial means has therefore more than academic interest. Ever since the year 1837, when Gaudin produced a few tiny flakes, French experimenters have steadily prosecuted their researches in the crystallization of corundum. Frémy and Feil, in 1877, were the first to meet with much success. A portion of one of their crucibles lined with glistening ruby flakes is exhibited in the British Museum (Natural History). In 1885 the jewellery market was completely taken by surprise by the appearance of red stones, emanating, so it is alleged, from Geneva; having the physical characters of genuine rubies, they were accepted as, and commanded the prices of, the natural stones. It was eventually discovered that they had resulted from the fusion of a number of fragments of natural rubies in the oxy-hydrogen flame. The original colour was driven off at that high temperature, but was revived by the previous addition of a little bichromate of potassium. Owing to the inequalities of growth, the cracks due to rapid cooling, the inclusion of B air-bubbles, often so numerous D as to cause a cloudy appearance, and, above all, the unnatural colour, these reconstructed stones, as they are termed, were far from satisfactory, but yet they marked such an advance on anything that had been accomplished before that for some time no suspicion was aroused as to their being M other than natural stones. A notable advance in the synthesis of corundum, particularly of ruby, was made in 1904, when Verneuil, who had served his apprenticeship to science under the guidance of Frémy, invented his ingenious inverted form of blowpipe (Fig. 53), which enabled him to overcome the difficulties that had baffled earlier investigators, and to manufacture rubies vying cutting with the best of in appearance after The blowpipe consisted of nature’s productions. two tubes, of which the upper, E, wide above, was constricted below, and passing down the centre of the lower, F, terminated just above the orifice of the latter in a fine nozzle. Oxygen was admitted at C through the plate covering the upper end of the tube, E. A rod, which passed through a rubber collar in the same plate, supported inside the tube, E, a vessel, D, and at the upper end terminated in a small plate, on which was fixed a disc. B. The hammer, A, when lifted by the action of an electromagnet and released, fell by gravity and struck the disc. The latter could be turned about a horizontal axis placed eccentrically, so that the height through which the hammer fell and the consequent force of the blow could be regulated. The rubber collar. which was perfectly gas-tight, held the rod securely, but allowed the shocks to be transmitted to the vessel, D, an arrangement of guides maintaining the slight motion of the vessel strictly vertical. This vessel, which carried the alumina powder used in the manufacture of the stone, had as its base a cylindrical sieve of fine mesh. The succession of rapid taps of the hammer caused a regular seed of powder down the tube, the amount being regulated by varying the height through which the hammer fell. Hydrogen or coal-gas was admitted at G into the outer tube, F, and in the usual way met the oxygen just above the orifice, L. To exclude irregular draughts, the flame was surrounded by a screen, M, which was provided with a mica window. and a water-jacket, K, protected the upper part of the apparatus from excessive heating. The alumina was precipitated from a solution of pure ammonia-alum, (NH4)2SO4.Al2(SO4)3.24H2O, in distilled water by the addition of pure ammonia. sufficient chrome-alum also being dissolved with the ammonia-aum to furnish about 21/2 per cent. of chromic oxide in the resulting stone. The powder, carefully prepared and purified, was placed, as has been stated above, in the vessel, D, and on reaching the flame at the orifice it melted, and fell as a liquid drop, N, upon the pedestal, P, which was formed of previously fused alumina. This pedestal was attached by a platinum sleeve to an iron rod, Q, which was provided with the necessary screw adjustments, R and S, for centring and lowering it as the drop grew in size. Great care was exercised to free the powder from any trace of potassium, which, if present, imparted a brownish tinge to the stone. The pressure of the oxygen, low initially both to prevent the pedestal from melting, and to keep the area of the drop in contact with the pedestal as small as possible, because otherwise flaws tended to start on cooling, was gradually increased until the flame reached the critical temperature which kept the top of the drop melted, but not boiling. The supply of powder was at the same time carefully proportioned to the pressure. The pedestal, P, was from time to time lowered, and the drop grew in the shape of a pear (Fig. 54), the apex of which was downwards and adhered to the pedestal by a narrow stalk. As soon as the drop reached the maximum size possible with the size of the flame, the gases were sharply and simultaneously cut off. After ten minutes or so the drop was lowered from the chamber, M, by the screw, S, and when quite cold was removed from the pedestal. Very few changes have been made in the method when adapted to commercial use. Coal-gas has, however, entirely replaced the costly hydrogen, and the hammer is operated by a cam instead of an electromagnet, while, as may be seen from the view of a gem-stone factory (Plate XIV), a number of blowpipes are placed in line so that their cams are worked by the same shaft, a. The fire-clay screen, b, surrounding the flame is for convenience of removal divided into halves longitudinally, and a small hole is left in front for viewing the stone during growth, a red glass screen, c, being provided in front to protect the eyes from the intense glare. Half the fire-clay screen of the blowpipe in the centre of the Plate has been removed to show the arrangement of the interior. The centring and the raising and lowering apparatus, d, have been modified. The process is so simple that one man can attend to a dozen or so of these machines, and it takes only one hour to grow a drop large enough to be cut into a ten-carat stone. The drops, unless the finished stone is required to have a similar pear shape, are divided longitudinally through the central core into halves, which in both shape and orientation are admirably suited to the purposes of cutting; as a general rule, the drop splits during cooling into the desired direction of its own accord. Each drop is a single crystalline individual, and not, as might have been anticipated, an alumina glass or an irregular aggregation of crystalline fragments, and, if the drop has cooled properly, the crystallographic axis is parallel to the core of the pear. The cut stone will therefore have not only the density and hardness, but also all the optical characters—refractivity, double refraction, dichroism, etc.-pertaining to the natural species. and will obey precisely the same tests with the refractometer and the dichroscope. Were it not for certain imperfections it would be impossible to distinguish between the stones formed in Nature’s vast workshop and those produced within the confines of a laboratory. The artificial stones, however, are rarely, if ever, free from minute air-bubbles (Fig. 55), which can easily be seen with an ordinary lens. Their spherical shape differentiates them from the plane sided cavities not infrequently visible in a natural stone (Fig. 56). Moreover. the colouring matter varies slightly, but imperceptibly, in successive shells, and consequently in the finished stone a careful eye can discern the curved striations (Fig. 55) corres ponding in shape to the original shell. In a natural stone, on the other hand, although zones of different colours or varying shades are not uncommon, the resulting striations are straight (Fig. 56), corresponding to the plane faces of the original crystal form. By sacrificing material it might be possible to cut a small stone free from bubbles, but the curved striations would always be present to betray its origin. The success that attended the manufacture of ruby encouraged efforts to impart other tints to crystallized alumina. By reducing the percentage amount of chromic oxide, pink stones were turned out, in colour not unlike those Brazilian topazes, the original hue of which has been altered by the application of heat. These artificial stones have therefore been called ‘scientific topaz’; of course, quite wrongly, since topaz, which is properly a fluo-silicate of aluminium, is quite a different substance. Early attempts made to obtain the exquisite blue tint of the true sapphire were frustrated by an unexpected difficulty. The colouring matter, cobalt oxide, was not diffused evenly through the drop. but was huddled together in splotches, and it was found necessary to add a considerable amount of magnesia as a flux before a uniform distribution of colour could be secured. It was then discovered that, despite the colour, the stones had the physical characters, not of sapphire, but of the species closely allied to it, namely, spinel, aluminate of magnesium. By an unsurpassable effort of nomenclature these blue stones were given the extraordinary name of ‘Hope sapphire,’ from fanciful analogy with the famous blue diamond which was once the pride of the Hope collection. A blue spinel is occasionally found in nature, but the actual tint is somewhat different. These manufactured stones have the disadvantage of turning purple in artificial light. By substituting lime for magnesia as a flux, Paris. a pupil of Verneuil’s, produced blue stones which were not affected to the same extent. The difficulty was at length overcome at the close of 1909, when Verneuil, by employing as tinctorial agents o;5 per cent. of titanium oxide and 1.5 per cent. of magnetic iron oxide, succeeded in producing blue corundum; it, however, had not quite the tint of sapphire, Stones subsequently manufactured, which were better in colour, contained about 0.12 per cent of titanium oxide, but no iron at all. By the addition to the alumina of a little nickel oxide and vanadium oxide respectively, yellow and yellowish green corundums have been obtained. The latter have in artificial light a distinctly reddish hue, and have therefore been termed ‘scientific alexandrite’; of course, quite incorrectly, since the true alexandrite is a variety of chrysoberyl, aluminate of beryllium, a very different substance. If no colouring matter at all be added and the alum be free from potash, colourless stones or white sapphires are formed, which pass under the name scientific brilliant. It is scarcely necessary to remark that they are quite distinct from the true brilliant, diamond. The high prices commanded by emeralds, and the comparative success that attended the reconstruction of ruby from fragments of natural stones, suggested that equal success might follow from a similar process with powdered beryl, chromic oxide being used as the colouring agent. The resulting stones are, indeed, a fair imitation, being even provided with flaws, but they are a beryl glass with lower specific gravity and refractivity than the true beryl, and are wrongly termed ‘scientific emerald. Moreover, recently most of the stones so named on the market are merely green paste. It is unfortunate that the real success which has been achieved in the manufacture of ruby and sapphire should be obscured by the ill-founded claims tacitly asserted in other cases. At the time the manufactured ruby was a novelty it fetched as much as £6 a carat, but as soon as it was discovered that it could easily be differentiated from the natural stone, a collapse took place, and the price fell abruptly to 30s., and eventually to 5s. and even 1s. a carat. The sapphires run slightly higher, from 2s. to 7s. a carat. The prices of the natural stones, which at first had fallen, have now risen to almost their former level. The extreme disparity at present obtaining between the prices of the artificial and the natural ruby renders the fraudulent substitution of the one for the other a great temptation, and it behoves purchasers to beware where and from whom they buy, and to be suspicious of apparently remarkable bargains, especially at places like Colombo and Singapore where tourists abound. It is no secret that some thousands of carats of manufactured rubies are shipped annually to the East. Caveat emptor.
CHAPTER XV
IMITATION STONES
The beryl glass mentioned in the previous chapter marks the transition stage between manufactured stones which in all essential characters are identical with those found in nature, and artificial stones which resemble the corresponding natural stone in outward appearance only. In a sense both sorts may be styled artificial, but it would be misleading to confound them under the same appellation. Common paste,6 which is met with in drapery goods and cheap ornaments in general—hat-pins, buckles, and so forth —is composed of ordinary crown-glass or flint-glass, the refractive indices being about 1.53 and 1.63 respectively. The finest quality, which is used for imitations of brilliants, is called ‘strass. It is a dense lead flint-glass of high refraction and strong colour dispersion, consisting of 38.2 per cent. of silica, 53.3 red lead (oxide of lead), and 7.8 potassium carbonate, with small quantities of soda, alumina, and other substances. How admirable these imitations may be, a study of the windows of a shop devoted to such things will show. Unfortunately the addition of lead, which is necessary tor imparting the requisite refraction and ‘fire’ to the strass, renders the stones exceedingly soft. All glass yields to the file, but strass stones are scratched even by ordinary window-glass. If worn in such a way that they are rubbed, they speedily lose the brilliance of their polish, and, moreover, they are susceptible to attack by the sulphurous fumes present in the smoky air of towns, and turn after a time a dirty brown in hue. When coloured stones are to be imitated, small quantities of a suitable metallic oxide are fused with the glass; cobalt gives rise to a royal-blue tint, chromium a ruby red, and manganese a violet. Common paste is not highly refractive enough to give satisfactory results when cut as a brilliant, and the bases are therefore often coated with quicksilver, or, in the case of old jewellery, covered with foil in the setting, in order to secure more complete reflection from the interior. The fashioning of these imitation stones is easy and cheap. Being moulded, they do not require cutting, and the polishing of the facets thus formed is soon done on account of the softness of the stones. A test with a file readily differentiates paste stones from the natural stones they pretend to be. Being necessarily singly refractive, they are, of course, lacking in dichroism, and their refractivity seldom accords even approximately with that of the corresponding natural stone. In order to meet the test for hardness the doublet was devised. Such a stone is composed of two parts—the crown consisting of colourless quartz or other inexpensive real and hard stone, and the base being made up of coloured glass. When the imitation, say of a sapphire, is intended to be more exact, the crown is made of a real sapphire, but one deficient in colour, the requisite tint being obtained from the paste forming the under part of the doublet. In case the base should also be tested for hardness the triplet has been devised. In this the base is made of a real stone also, and the coloured paste is confined to the girdle section, where it is hidden by the setting. Sapphires and emeralds of indifferent colour are sometimes slit across the girdle; the interior surfaces are polished, and colouring matter is introduced with the cement, generally Canada balsam, which is used to re-unite the two portions of the stone together. All such imitations may be detected by placing the stone in oil, when the surfaces separating the portions of the composite stone will be visible, or the binding cement may be dissolved by immersing the stone, if unmounted, in boiling water, or in alcohol or chloroform, when the stone will fall to pieces. The glass imitations of pearls, which have become very common in recent years, may, apart from their inferior iridescence, be detected by their greater hardness, or by the apparent doubling of, say, a spot of ink placed on the surface, owing to reflection from the inner surface of the glass shell. They are made of small hollow spheres formed by blowing. Next to the glass comes a lining of parchment size, and next the under lining, which is the most important part of the imitation, consisting of a preparation of fish scales called Essence d’Orient. When the lining is dry, the globe is filled with hot wax to impart the necessary solidity. In cheap imitations the glass balls are not lined at all, but merely heated with hydrochloric acid to give an iridescence to the surface; sometimes they are coated with wax, which can be scraped off with a knife.
PART II—SECTION A
PRECIOUS STONES
CHAPTER XVI
DIAMOND
Diamond has held pride of place as chief of precious stones ever since the discovery of the form of cutting known as the ‘brilliant’ revealed to full perfection its amazing qualities; and justly so, since it combines in itself extreme hardness, high refraction, large colour-dispersion, and brilliant lustre. A rough diamond, especially from river gravels, has often a peculiar greasy appearance, and is no more attractive to the eye than a piece of washing-soda. It is therefore easy to understand why the Persians in the thirteenth century placed the pearl, ruby, emerald, and even peridot before it, and writers in the Middle Ages frequently esteemed it below emerald and ruby. The Indian lapidaries, who were the first to realize that diamond could be ground with its own powder, discovered what a wonderful difference the removal of the skin makes in the appearance of a stone. They, however, made no attempt to shape a stone, but merely polished the natural facets, and only added numerous small facets when they wished to conceal flaws or other imperfections; indeed, the famous traveller. l’avernier, from whom most of our knowledge of early mining in India is obtained, invariably found that a stone covered with many facets was badly fawed. The full radiant beauty of a diamond comes to light only when it is cut in brilliant form. Of all precious stones diamond has the simplest composition; it is merely crystallized carbon, another form of which is the humble and useful graphite, commonly known as ‘black-lead.’ Surely nature has surpassed all her marvellous efforts in producing from the same element substances with such divergent characters as the hard, brilliant, and transparent diamond and the soft, dull, and opaque graphite. It is, however, impossible to draw any sharp dividing line between the two; soft diamond passes insensibly into hard graphite, and vice versa. Boart, or bort, as it is sometimes written, is composed of minute crystals of diamond arranged haphazardly: it possesses no cleavage, its hardness is greater than that of the crystals, and its colour is greyish to blackish. Carbon, carbonado, or black diamond. which is composed of still more minute crystals, is black and opaque, and is perceptibly harder than the crystals. It passes into graphite, which varies in hardness, and may have any density between 2.0 and 3.0. Jewellers apply the term boart to crystals or fragments which are of no service as gems; such pieces are crushed to powder and used for cutting and polishing purposes. Diamonds, when absolutely limpid and free from flaws, are said to be of the ‘first water,’ and are most prized when devoid of any tinge of colour except perhaps bluish (Plate I, Fig. 1). Stones with a slight tinge of yellow are termed ‘off-coloured,’ and are far less valuable. Those of a canary-yellow colour (Plate I, Fig. 3), however, belong to a different category, and have a decided attractiveness. Greenish stones also are common, though it is rare to come across one with a really good shade of that colour. Brown stones, especially in South Africa, are not uncommon. Pink stones are less common, and ruby-red and blue stones are rare. Those of the last-named colour have usually what is known as a ‘steely’ shade, i.e. they are tinged with green; stones of a sapphire blue are very seldom met with, and such command high prices. Diamond crystallizes (Figs. 57-59 and Plate 1, Fig, 2) in octahedra with brilliant, smooth faces, and occasionally in cubes with rough pitted faces; sometimes three or six faces take the place of each octahedron face, and the stone is almost spherical in shape. The surfaces of the crystals are often marked with equilateral triangles, which are supposed to represent the effects of incipient combustion. Twinned crystals, in which the two individuals may be connected by a single plane or may be interpenetrating, a star shape often resulting in the latter case, are common; sometimes, if of the octahedron type, they are beautifully symmetrical. The rounded crystals are frequently covered with a peculiar gum-like skin which is somewhat less hard than the crystal itself. A large South African stone, weighing 27 grams (130 carats) and octahedral in shape, which was the gift of John Ruskin, and named by him the ‘Colenso’ after the first bishop of Natal, is exhibited in the British Museum (Natural History); its appearance is, however, marred by its distinctly off-coloured’ tint. The refraction of diamond is single, but local double refraction is common, indicating a state of strain which can often be traced to an included drop of liquid carbonic acid; so great is the strain that many a fine stone has burst to fragments on being removed from the ground in which it has lain. The refractive index for the yellow light of a sodium flame is 2.4175, and the slight variation from this mean value that has been observed, amounting only to 0.0001, testifies to the purity of the composition. The colour-dispersion is large, being as much as 0.044, in which respect it surpasses all colourless stones, but is exceeded by sphene and the green garnet from the Urals (cf. p. 217). The lustre of diamond, when polished, is so characteristic as to be termed adamantine, and is due to the combination of high refraction and extreme hardness, Diamond is translucent to the X (Röntgen) rays it phosphoresces under the action of radium, and of a high-tension electric current when placed in a vacuum tube, and sometimes even when exposed to strong sunlight. Some diamonds fluoresce in sunlight, turning milky, and a few even emit light when rubbed. Crookes found that a diamond buried in radium bromide for a year had acquired a lovely blue tint, which was not affected even by heating to redness. The specific gravity is likewise constant, being 3.521, with a possible variation from that mean value of 0.005; but a greater range, as might be expected, is found in the impure boart. Diamond is by far the hardest substance in nature, being marked 10 in Mohs’s scale of hardness, but it varies in itself; stones from Borneo and New South Wales are so perceptibly harder than those usually in the lapidaries’ hands, that they can be cut only with their own and not ordinary diamond powder, and some difficulty was experienced in cutting them when they first came into the market. It is interesting to note that the metal tantalum, the isolation of which in commercial amount constituted one of the triumphs of chemistry of recent years, has about the same hardness as diamond. Despite its extreme hardness diamond readily cleaves under a heavy blow in planes parallel to the faces of the regular octahedron, a property utilized for shaping the stone previous to cutting it. The fallacious, but not unnatural, idea was prevalent up to quite modern times that a diamond would, even if placed on an anvil, resist a blow from a hammer: who knows how many fine stones have succumbed to this illusory test? The fact that diamond could be split was known to Indian lapidaries at the time of Tavernier’s visit, and it would appear from De Boodt that in the sixteenth century the cleavability of diamond was not unknown in Europe, but it was not credited at the time and was soon forgotten. Early last century Wollaston, a famous chemist and mineralogist, rediscovered the property, and, so it is said. used his knowledge to some profit by purchasing large stones, which because of their awkward shape or the presence of flaws in the interior were rejected by the lapidaries, and selling them back again after cleaving them to suitable forms. It has already been remarked (p. 79) that the interval in hardness between diamond and corundum. which comes next to it in Mohs’s scale, is enormously greater than that between corundum and the softest of minerals. Diamond can therefore be cut only with the aid of its own powder, and the cutting of diamond is therefore differentiated from that of other stones, the precious-stone trade being to a large extent divided into two distinct groups, namely, dealers in diamonds, and dealers in all other gem-stones. The name of the species is derived from the popular form, adiamentem, of the Latin adamantem, itself the alliterative form of the Greek ddduas, meaning the unconquerable, in allusion not merely to the great hardness but also to the mistaken idea already mentioned. Boart probably comes from the Old-French bord or bort, bastard. At the present day diamonds are usually cut as brilliants, though the contour of the girdle may be circular, oval, or drop-shaped to suit the particular purpose for which the stone is required, or to keep the weight as great as possible. Small stones for bordering a large coloured stone may also be cut as roses or points. A perfect brilliant has 58 facets, but small stones may have not more than 44, and exceptionally large stones may with advantage have many more; for instance, on the largest stone cut from the Cullinan diamond there are no fewer than 74 facets. The description of the properties of diamond would not be complete without a reference to the other valuable, if utilitarian, purposes to which it is put. Without its aid much of modern engineering work and mining operations would be impossible except at the cost of almost prohibitive expenditure of time and money. Boring through solid rock has been greatly facilitated by the use of the diamond drill. For this purpose carbonado or black diamond is more serviceable than single crystals, and the price of the former has consequently advanced from a nominal figure up to £3 to £12 a carat. The actual working part of the drill consists of a cast-steel The crown of it has a number of small ring. depressions at regular intervals into which the carbonados are embedded. On revolution of the drill an annular ring is cut, leaving a solid core which can be drawn to the surface. For cooling the drill and for washing away the detritus water is pumped through to the working face. The duration of the carbonados depends on the nature of the rock and the skill of the operator. The most troublesome rock is a sandstone or one with sharp differences in hardness, because the carbonados are liable to be torn out of their setting. An experienced operator can tell by the feel of the drill the nature of the rock at the working face, and by varying the pressure can mitigate the risk of damage to the drill. The tenacity of diamond renders it most suitable for wire-drawing. The tungsten filaments used in many of the latest forms of incandescent electric lamps are prepared in this manner. Diamond powder is used for cutting and turning the hardened steel employed in modern armaments and for other more peaceful purposes. Although nearly all the gem-stones scratch glass, diamond alone can be satisfactorily employed to cut it along a definite edge. Any flake at random will not be suitable, because it will tear the glass and form a jagged edge. The best results are given by the junction of two edges which do not meet in too obtuse an angle; two edges of the rhombic dodecahedron meet the requirements admirably. The stones used by the glaziers are minute in size, being not much larger than a pin’s head, and thirty of them on an average go to the carat. They are set in copper or brass. Some little skill is needed to obtain the best results. The value of a diamond has always been determined largely by the size of the stone, the old rule being that the rate per carat should be multiplied by the square of the weight in carats; thus, if the rate be £10, the cost of a two-carat stone is four times this sum, or £40, of a three-carat stone £90, and so on. For a century, from 1750 to 1850, the rate remained almost constant at £4 for rough, £6 for rose-cut, and £8 for brilliant-cut diamonds. Since the latter date, owing to the increase in the supply of gold, the growth of the spending power of the world, and the gradual falling off in the productiveness of the Brazilian fields, the rate steadily increased about 10 per cent. each year, until in 1865 the rate for brilliants was £18. The rise was checked by the discovery of the South African mines; moreover, since comparatively large stones are plentiful in these mines, the rule of the increase in the price of a stone by the square of its weight no longer holds. The rate for the most perfect stones still remains high, because such are not so common in the South African mines. The classification7 adopted by the syndicate of London diamond merchants who place upon the market the output of the De Beers group of mines is as follows:—(a) Blue-white, (b) white. (c) silvery Cape, (d) fine Cape, (e) Cape, (f) fine bywater, (g) bywater, (h) fine light brown, (i) light brown, (j) brown, (k) dark brown. Bywaters or byes are stones tinged with yellow. The rate per carat for cut stones in the bluewhite and the bywater groups is :

BLUE-WHITE.
BYWATER.
5-carat stone
£40-60
£20-25
1-carat stone
30-20
10-15
1/2-carat stone
20-25
8-12
1/4-carat stone
15-18
6-10
Mêlée
12-15
5-8
Mêlée are stones smaller than a quarter of a carat. It will be noticed that the prices depart largely from the old rule; thus taking the rate for a carat blue-white stone, the price of a five-carat stone should be from £150-200 a carat, and for a quarter-carat stone only £7, 10s. to £10 a carat. There happens to be at the time of writing very little demand for five-carat stones. Of course, the prices given are subject to constant fluctuation depending upon the supply and demand, and the whims of fashion.
CHAPTER XVII
OCCURRENCE OF DIAMOND
The whole of the diamonds known in ancient times were obtained from the so-called Golconda mines in India. Golconda itself, now a deserted fortress near Hyderabad, was merely the mart where the diamonds were bought and sold. The diamond-bearing district actually spread over a wide area on the eastern side of the Deccan, extending from the Pinner River in the Madras Presidency northwards to the Rivers Son and Khan. tributaries of the Ganges, in Bundelkhand. The richest mines, where the large historical stones were found, are in the south, mostly near the Kistna River. The diamonds were discovered in sandstone or conglomerate, or the sands and gravels of riverbeds. The mines were visited in the middle of the seventeenth century by the French traveller and jeweller, Tavernier, when travelling on a commission for Louis XIV, and he afterwards published a careful description of them and of the method of working them. The mines seem to have been exhausted in the seventeenth century; at any rate, the prospecting. which has been spasmodically carried on during the last two centuries, has proved almost abortive. With the exception of the Koh-i-nor, all the large Indian diamonds were probably discovered not long before Tavernier’s visit. The diamonds known to Pliny, and in his time, were quite small, and it is doubtful if any stones of considerable size came to light before A.D. 1000. India enjoyed the monopoly of supplying the world’s demand for diamonds up to the discovery. in 1725, of the precious stone in Brazil. Small stones were detected by the miners in the gold washings at Tejuco, about eighty miles (129 km.) from Rio de Janeiro, in the Serro do Frio district of the State of Minas Geraes. The discovery naturally caused great excitement. So many diamonds were found that in 1727 something like a slump took place in their value. In order to keep up prices, the Dutch merchants, who mainly controlled the Indian output, asserted that the diamonds had not been found in Brazil at all, but were inferior Indian stones shipped to Brazil from Goa. The tables were neatly turned when diamonds were actually shipped from Brazil to Goa, and exported thence to Europe as Indian stones. This course and the continuous development of the diamond district in Brazil rendered it impossible to hoodwink the world indefinitely. The drop in prices was, however, stayed by the action of the Portuguese government, who exacted such heavy duties and imposed such onerous conditions that finally no one would undertake to work the mines. Accordingly, in 1772 diamond-mining was declared a royal monopoly in Brazil, and such it remained until the severance of Brazil from Portugal in 1834, when private mining was permitted by the new government subject to the payment of reasonable royalties. The industry was enormously stimulated by the discovery, in 1844, of the remarkably rich fields in the State of Bahia, especially at Serra da Cincorá, where carbonado, or black diamond, first came to light, but after a few years, owing to the difficulties of supplying labour, the unhealthiness of the climate, and the high cost of living, the yield fell off and gradually declined, until the importance of the fields was finally eclipsed by the rise of the South African mines. The Brazilian mines have proved very productive, but chiefly in small diamonds, stones above a carat in weight being few in comparison. The largest stone, to which the name, the Star of the South, was applied, weighed in the rough 2541/2 carats; it was discovered at the Bagagem mines in 1853. The quality of the diamonds is good, many of them having the highly-prized bluish-white colour. The principal diamond-bearing districts of Brazil centre at Diamantina, as Tejuco was re-named after the discovery of diamonds, Grão Magor, and Bagagem in the State of Minas Geraes, at Diamantina in the State of Bahia, and at Goyãz and Matto Grosso in the States of the same names. The diamonds occur chiefly in cascalho, a gravel, containing large masses of quartz and small particles of gold, which is supposed to be derived from a quartzose variety of micaceous slate known as itacolumite. The mines are now to some extent being worked by systematic dredging of the river-beds. Early in 1867 the children of a Boer farmer, Daniel Jacobs, who dwelt near Hopetown on the banks of the Orange River, picked up in the course of play near the river a white pebble, which was destined not only to mark the commencement of a new epoch in the record of diamond mines, but to change the whole course of the history of South Africa. This pebble attracted the attention of a neighbour, Schalk van Niekerk, who suspected that it might be of some value, and offered to buy it. Mrs. Jacobs, however, gave it him, laughingly scouting the idea of accepting money for a mere pebble, Van Niekerk showed it to a travelling trader, by name John O’Reilly, who undertook to obtain what he could for it on condition that they shared, the proceeds. Every one he met laughed to scorn the idea that the stone had any value, and it was once thrown away and only recovered after some search in a yard, but at length he showed it to Lorenzo Boyes, the Acting Civil Commissioner at Colesberg. who, from its extreme hardness, thought it might be diamond and sent it to the mineralogist, W. Guybon Atherston, of Grahamstown, for determination. So uncertain was Boyes of its value that he did not even seal up the envelope containing it, much less register the package. Atherston found immediately that the long-scorned pebble was really a fine diamond, weighing 213/16 carats, and with O’Reillys consent he submitted it to Sir Philip Wodehouse. Governor at the Cape. The latter purchased it at once for £500, and dispatched it to be shown at the Paris Exhibition of that year. It did not. however, attract much attention; chimerical tales of diamond finds in remote parts of the world are not unknown. Indeed, for some time only a few small stones were picked up beside the Orange Kiver, and no one believed in the existence of any extensive diamond deposit. However, all doubt as to the advisibility of prospecting the district was settled by the discovery of the superb diamond, afterwards known as the ‘Star of South Africa,’ which was picked up in March 1869 by a shepherd boy on the Zendfontein farm near the Orange River. Van Niekerk, on the alert for news of further discoveries, at once hurried to the spot and purchased the stone from the boy for five hundred sheep, ten oxen, and a horse, which seemed to the boy untold wealth, but was not a tithe of the £11.200 which Lilienfeld Bros., of Hopetown, gave Van Niekerk. This remarkable discovery attracted immediate attention to the potentialities of a country which produced diamonds of such a size, and prospectors began to swarm into the district, gradually spreading up the Vaal River. For some little time not much success was experienced, but at length, early in 1870, a rich find was made at Klipdrift, now known as Barkly West, which was on the banks of the Vaal River immediately opposite the Mission camp at Pniel. The number of miners steadily increased until the population on the two sides of the river included altogether some four or five thousand people, and there was every appearance of stability in the existing order of things. But a vast change came over the scene upon the discovery of still richer mines lying to the south-east and some distance from the river. The ground was actually situated on the route traversed by parties hurrying to the Vaal River, but no one dreamed of the wealth that lay under their feet. The first discovery was made in August 1870 at the farm Jagersfontein, near Fauresmith in Orange River Colony, by De Klerk, the intelligent overseer, who noticed in the dry bed of a stream a number of garnets, and, knowing that they often accompanied diamond, had the curiosity to investigate the point. He was immediately rewarded by finding a fine diamond weighing 50 carats. In the following month diamonds were discovered about twenty miles from Klipdrift at Dutoitspan on the Dorstfontein farm, and a little later also on the contiguous farm of Bultfontein; a diamond was actually found in the mortar used in the homestead of the latter farm. Early in May 1871 diamonds were found about two miles away on De Beers’ farm, Vooruitzigt, and two months later, in July, a far richer find was made on the same farm at a spot which was first named Colesberg Kopje, the initial band of prospectors having come from the town of that name near the Orange River, but was subsequently known as Kimberley after the Secretary of State for the Colonies at that time. Soon a large and prosperous town sprang up close to the mines; it rapidly grew in size and importance, and to this day remains the centre of the diamond-mining industry. Subsequent prospecting proved almost blank until the discovery of the Premier or Wesselton mine on Wesselton farm, about four miles from Kimberley, in September 1890; it received the former name after Rhodes, who was Premier of Cape Colony at that date. No further discovery of any importance was made until. in 1902, diamonds were found about twenty miles north-west-north of Pretoria in the Transvaal, at the new Premier mine, now famed as the producer of the gigantic Cullinan diamond. The Kimberley mines were at first known as the ‘dry diggings’ on account of their arid surroundings in contradistinction to the river diggings by the Vaal. The dearth of water was at first one of the great difficulties in the way of working the former mines, although subsequently the accumulation of underground water at lower levels proved a great obstacle to the working of the mines. The ‘river diggings’ were of a type similar to that met with in India and Brazil, the diamonds occurring in a gravelly deposit of limited thickness beneath which was barren rock, but the Kimberley mines presented a phenomenon hitherto without precedent in the whole history of diamond mining. The diamonds were found in a loose surface deposit, which was easily worked, and for some time the prospectors thought that the underlying limestone corresponded to the bedrock of the river gravel, until at length one more curious than his fellows investigated the yellowish ground underneath, and found to his surprise that it was even richer than the surface layer. Immediately a rush was made back to the deserted claims, and the mines were busier than ever. This ‘yellow ground, as it is popularly called, was much decomposed and easy, therefore, to work and sift. About fifty to sixty feet (15-18 m.) below the surface, however, it passed into a far harder rock, which from its colour is known as the ‘blue ground’; this also, to the unexpected pleasure of the miners, turned out to contain diamonds. Difficulties arose as each claim, 30 by 30 Dutch feet (about 31 English feet or 9.45 metres square) in area, was worked downwards. In the Kimberley mine (Plate XVI) access to the various claims was secured by retaining parallel strips, 15 feet wide, each claim being, therefore, reduced in width to 221/2 feet, to form roadways running from side to side of the mine in one direction. These, however, soon gave way, not only because of the falling of the earth composing them, but because they were undermined and undercut by the owners of the adjacent claims. By the end of 1872 the last roadway had disappeared, and the mine presented the appearance of a vast pit. In order to obtain access to the claims without intruding on those lying between, and to provide for the hauling of the loads of earth to the surface, an ingenious system of wire cables in three tiers (Plate XVII) was erected, the lowest tier being connected to the outermost claims, the second to claims farther from the edge, and the highest to claims in the centre of the pit. The mine at that date presented a most remarkable spectacle, resembling an enormous radiating cobweb, which had a weird charm by night as the moonlight softly illuminated it, and by day, owing to the perpetual ring of the flanged wheels of the trucks on the running wires, twanged like some gigantic æolian harp. This system fulfilled its purpose admirably until, with increasing depth of the workings, other serious difficulties arose. Deprived of the support of the hard blue ground. the walls of the mine tended to collapse, and additional trouble was caused by the underground water that percolated into the mine. By the end of 1883 the floor of the Kimberley mine was almost entirely covered by falls of ‘reef’ (Plate XVIII), as the surrounding rocks are termed, the depth then being about 400 feet (122 m.). In the De Beers mine, in spite of the precaution taken to prevent falls of reef by cutting the walls of the mine back in terraces, falls occurred continuously in 1884, and by 1887, at a depth of 350 feet (107 m.), all attempts at open working had to be abandoned. In the Dutoitspan mine buttresses of blue ground were left, which held back the reef for some years, but ultimately the mine became unsafe, and in March 1886 a disastrous fall took place, in which eighteen miners-eight white men and ten Kafirs—lost their lives. The Bultfontein mine was worked to the great depth of 500 feet (152 m.), but falls occurred in 1889 and put an end to open working. In all cases, therefore, the ultimate end was the same: the floor of the mine became covered with a mass of worthless reef, which rendered mining from above ground dangerous, and, indeed, impossible except at prohibitive cost. It was then clearly necessary to effect access to the diamond-bearing ground by means of shafts sunk at a sufficient distance from the mine to remove any fear of falls of reef. For such schemes co-operative working was absolutely essential. Plate XIX illustrates the desolate character of the Kimberley mine above ground and the vastness of the yawning pit, which is over 1000 feet (300 m.) in depth. A certain amount of linking up of claims had already taken place, but, although many men must have seen that the complete amalgamation of the interests in each mine was imperative, two men alone had the capacity to bring their ideas to fruition. C. J. Rhodes was the principal agent in the formation in April 1880 of the De Beers Mining Company, which rapidly absorbed the remaining claims in the mine, and was re-formed in 1887 as the De Beers Consolidated Mining Company. Meantime, Barnett Isaacs, better known by the cognomen Barnato, which had been adopted by his brother Henry when engaged in earning his livelihood in the diamond fields as an entertainer, had secured the major interests in the Kimberley mine. Rhodes saw that, for effective working of the two mines by any system of underground working, they must be under one management, but to all suggestions of amalgamation Barnato remained deaf, and at last Rhodes determined to secure control of the Kimberley mine at all costs. The story of the titanic struggle between these two men forms one of the epics of finance. Eventually, when shares in the Kimberley mine had been boomed to an extraordinary height, and the price of diamonds had fallen as low as 18s. a carat, Barnato gave way, and in July 1889 the Kimberley mine was absorbed by the De Beers Company on payment of the enormous sum of £5,338,650. Shortly afterwards they undertook the working of the Dutoitspan and the Bultfontein mines, and in January 1896 they acquired the Premier or Wesselton mine. The interests in the Jagersfontein mine were in 1888 united in the New Jagersfontein Mining and Exploration Company, and the mine is now worked also by the De Beers Company. Thus, until the development of the new Premier mine in the Transvaal, the De Beers Company practically controlled the diamond market. The development of this last mine was begun so recently, and its size is so vast—the longest diameter being half a mile—that open-cut working is likely to continue for some years. Though varying slightly in details, the methods of working the mines are identical in principle. From the steeply inclined shaft horizontal galleries are run diagonally right across the mine, the vertical interval between successive galleries being 40 feet. From each gallery side galleries are run at right angles to it and parallel to the working face. The blue ground is worked systematically backwards from the working face. The mass is stoped, ie. drilled and broken from the bottom upwards, until only a thin roof is left. As soon as the section is worked out and the material removed, the roof is allowed to fall in, and work is begun on the next section of the same level; at the same time the first section on the level next below is opened out, Thus work is simultaneously carried on in several levels, and a vertical plane would intersect the working faces in a straight line obliquely inclined to the vertical direction (Fig. 60). When freshly mined. the blue ground is hard and compact, but it soon disintegrates under atmospheric influence. Indeed, the yellow ground itself was merely decomposed blue ground. No immediate attempt is made, therefore, to retrieve the precious stones. The blue ground is spread on to the ‘floors’ (Plate XXI), ie. spaces of open veldt which have been cleared of bushes and inequalities, to the depth of a couple of feet, and remains there for periods ranging from six months to two years, depending on the quality of the blue ground and the amount of rainfall. To hasten the disintegration the blue ground is frequently ploughed over and occasionally watered, a remarkable introduction of agricultural methods into mining operations. No elaborate patrolling or guarding is required, because the diamonds are so sparsely. though regularly, scattered through the mass that even of the actual workers in the mines but few have ever seen a stone in the blue ground. When sufficiently broken up, it is carted to the washing and concentrating machines, by means of which the diamonds and the heavier constituents are separated from the lighter material. Formerly the diamonds were picked out from the concentrates by means of the keen eyes of skilled natives; but the process has been vastly simplified and the risk of theft entirely eliminated by the remarkable discovery made in 1897 by F. Kirsten, of the De Beers Company, that of all the heavy constituents of the blue ground diamond alone, with the exception of an occasional corundum and zircon. which are easily sorted out afterwards, adheres to grease more readily than to water. In this ingenious machine, the ‘jigger’ or ‘greaser’ (Plate XXIII) as it is commonly termed, the concentrates are washed over a series of galvanized-iron trays, which are covered with a thick coat of grease. The trays are slightly inclined downwards, and are kept by machinery in constant sideways motion backwards and forwards. So accurate is the working of this device that few diamonds succeed in getting beyond the first tray, and none progress as far as the third, which is added as an additional precaution. The whole apparatus is securely covered in so that there is no risk of theft during the operation. The trays are periodically removed, and the grease is scraped off and boiled to release the diamonds, the grease itself being used over again on the trays. This is the first time in the whole course of extraction from the mines that the diamonds are actually handled. The stones are now passed on to the sorters, who separate them into parcels according to their size, shape, and quality. The classification at the mines is first into groups by the shape: (1) close goods, (2) spotted stones, (3) rejection cleavage, (4) fine cleavage, (5) light brown cleavage, (6) ordinary and rejection cleavage, (7) flats, (8) macles, (9) rubbish, (10) boart. Close goods are whole crystals which contain no flaws and can be cut into single stones. Spotted stones, as their name suggests, contain spots which necessitate removal, and cleavage includes stones which are so full of flaws that they have to be cleaved or split into two or more stones. Flats are distorted octahedra, and macles are twinned octahedra. Rubbish is material which can be utilized only for grinding purposes, and boart consists of round dark stones which are invaluable for rock-drills. These groups are afterwards graded into the following subdivisions, depending on increasing depth of yellowish tint: (a) blue-white, (b) first Cape, (c) second Cape, (d) first bye, (e) second bye, (f) offcolour, (g) light yellow, (h) yellow. It is, however, only the first group that is so minutely subdivided. After being purchased, the parcels are split up again somewhat differently for the London market (cf. p. 136), and the dealers re-arrange the stones according to the purpose for which they are required. Formerly a syndicate of London merchants took the whole of the produce of the Kimberley mines at a previously arranged price per carat, but at the present time the diamonds are sold by certain London firms on commission. The products of each mine show differences in either form or colour which enable an expert readily to recognize their origin. The old diggings by the Vaal River vielded finer and more colourless stones than those found in the dry diggings and the mines underlying them. The South African diamonds, taken as a whole, are always slightly yellowish or ‘off-coloured’; the mines are, indeed, remarkable for the number of fine and large, canary-yellow and brown, stones produced. The Kimberley mine vields a fair percentage of white, and a large number of twinned and yellow stones. The yield of the De Beers mine comprises mostly tinted stones—yellow and brown, occasionally silver capes, and very seldom stones free from colour. The Dutoitspan mine is noted for its harvest of large yellow diamonds; it also produces fine white cleavage and small white octahedra. The stones found in the Bultfontein mine are small and spotted, but, on the other hand, the yield has been unusually regular. The Premier or Wesselton mine yields a large proportion of flawless octahedra, but, above all, a large number of beautiful deep-orange diamonds. Of all the South African mines the Jagersfontein in the Orange River Colony alone supplies stones of the highly-prized blue-white colour and steely lustre characteristic of the old Indian stones. The new Premier mine in the Transvaal is prolific, but mostly in off-coloured and low-grade stones, the Cullinan diamond being a remarkable exception. To illustrate the amazing productiveness of the South African mines, it may be mentioned that, according to Gardner F. Williams, the Kimberley group of mines in sixteen years yielded 36 million carats of diamonds, and the annual output of the Jagersfontein mine averages about a quarter of a million carats, whereas the total output of the Brazil mines, for the whole of the long period during which they have been worked, barely exceeds 13 million carats. The average yield of the South African mines, however, perceptibly diminishes as the depth of the mines increases. The most interesting point connected with the South African diamond mines, viewed from the scientific standpoint, is the light that they have thrown on the question of the origin of the diamond, which previously was an incomprehensible and apparently insoluble problem. In the older mines, just as at the river diggings by the Vaal, the stones are found in a gravelly deposit that has resulted from the disintegration of the rocks through which the adjacent river has passed, and it is clear that the diamond cannot have been formed in situ here it had been suspected, and now there is no doubt, that the itacolumite rock of Brazil has consolidated round the diamonds which are scattered through it, and that it cannot be the parent rock. The occurrence at Kimberley is very different. These mines are funnels which go downwards to unknown depths; they are more or less oval in section, becoming narrower with increasing depth, and are evidently the result of some eruptive agency. The Kimberley mine has been worked to a depth of nearly 4000 feet (1200 m.), and no signs of a termination have as yet appeared. The blue ground which fills these ‘pipes,’ as they are termed, must have been forced up from below, since it is sharply differentiated from the surrounding country rocks. This blue ground is a brecciated peridotite of peculiar constitution, to which the well-known petrologist, Carvil Lewis, who made a careful study of it, gave the name kimberlite. The blue colour testifies to its richness in iron, and it is to the oxidation of the iron constituent, that the change of colour to yellow in the upper levels is due. Owing to the shafts that have been sunk for working the mines, the nature of the surrounding rocks is known to some depth. Immediately below the surface is a decomposed ferriferous basalt, about 20 to 9o feet (6-27 m.) thick, next a black slaty shale, 200 to 250 feet (60-75 m.) thick, then 10 feet (3 m.) of conglomerate, next 400 feet (120 m.) of olivine diabase, then quartzite, about 400 feet (120 m.) thick, and lastly a quartz porphyry, which has not yet been penetrated. The strata run nearly horizontal, and there are no signs of upward bending at the pipes. The whole of the country, including the mines, was covered with a red sandy soil, and there was nothing to indicate the wealth that lay underneath. The action of water had in process of time removed all signs of eruptive activity. The principal minerals which are associated with diamond in the blue ground are magnetite, ilmenite. chromic pyrope, which is put on the market as a gem under the misnomer ‘Cape-ruby,’ ferriferous enstatite, which also is sometimes cut, olivine more or less decomposed, zircon, kyanite, and mica. The evidence produced by an examination of the blue ground and the walls of the pipes proves that the pipes cannot have been volcanoes such as Vesuvius. There is no indication whatever of the action of any excessive temperature, while, on the other hand, there is every sign of the operation of enormous pressure; the diamonds often contain liquid drops of carbonic acid. Crookes puts forward the plausible theory that steam has been the primary agency in propelling the diamond and its associates up into the channel through which it has carved its way to freedom, and holds that molten iron has been the solvent for carbon which has crystallized out as diamond under the enormous pressures obtaining in remote depths of the earth’s crust. It is pertinent to note that, by dissolving carbon in molten iron, the eminent chemist, Moissan. was enabled to manufacture tiny diamond crystals. Water trickling down from above would be immediately converted into steam at very high pressure on coming into contact with the molten iron, and, in its efforts to escape, the steam would drive the iron and its precious contents, together with the adjacent rocks, upwards to the surface. The ferriferous nature of the blue ground and the yellow tinge so common to the diamonds lend confirmation to this theory. The process by which the carbon was extracted from shales or other carboniferous rocks and dissolved in iron still awaits elucidation. Diamonds were found in New South Wales as long ago as 1851 on Turon River and at Reedy Creek, near Bathurst, about ninety miles (145 km.) from Sydney, but the find was of little commercial importance. A more extensive deposit came to light in 1867 farther north at Mudgee. In 1872 diamonds were discovered in the extreme north of the State, at Bingara near the Queensland border. Another discovery was made in 1884 at Tingha, and still more recently in the tin gravels of Inverell in the same region. In their freedom from colour and absence of twinning the New South Wales diamonds resemble the Brazilian stones. The average size is small, running about five to the carat when cut; the largest found weighed nearly 6 carats when cut. They are remarkable for their excessive hardness; they can be cut only with their own dust, ordinary diamond dust making no impression. The Borneo diamonds are likewise distinguished by their exceptional hardness. They mostly occur by the river Landak, near Pontianak on the west coast of the island. They are found in a layer of rather coarse gravel, variable, but rarely exceeding a yard (I m.), in depth, and are associated with corundum and rutile, together with the precious metals gold and platinum. Indeed, it is no uncommon sight to see natives wearing waistcoats ornamented with gold buttons, in each of which a diamond is set. The diamonds are well crystallized and generally of pure water; yellowish and canary-yellow stones are also common, but rose-red, bluish, smoky, and black stones are rare. They seldom exceed a carat in weight; but stones of 10 carats in weight are found, and occasionally they attain to 20 carats. In 1850 a diamond weighing 77 carats was discovered. The Rajah of Mattan is said to possess one of the purest water weighing as much as 367 carats, but no one qualified to pronounce an opinion regarding its genuineness has ever seen it. In Rhodesia small diamonds have been found in gravel beds resting on decomposed granite near the Somabula forest, about 12 miles (19 km.) west of Gwelo, in association with chrysoberyl in abundance, blue topaz, kyanite, ruby, sapphire, tourmaline, and garnet. The occurrence of diamond in German SouthWest Africa is very peculiar. Large numbers of small stones are found close to the shore near Luderitz Bay in a gravelly surface layer, which is nowhere more than a foot in depth. They are picked by hand by natives and washed in sieves. In shape they are generally six-faced octahedra or twinned octahedra, simple octahedra being rare, and in size they run about four or five to the carat, the largest stone as yet found being only 2 carats in weight. Their colour is usually yellowish. Several isolated finds of diamonds have been reported in California and other parts of the United States, but none have proved of any importance, The largest stone found weighed 233/4 carats uncut; it was discovered at Manchester in Virginia.
CHAPTER XVIII
HISTORICAL DIAMONDS
The number of diamonds which exceed a hundred carats in weight when cut is very limited. Their extreme costliness renders them something more than mere ornaments; in a condensed and portable form they represent great wealth and all the potentiality for good or ill thereby entailed, and have played no small, if sinister, rôle in the moulding of history. In bygone days when despotic government was universal, the possession of a splendid jewel in weak hands but too often precipitated the aggression of a greedy and powerful neighbour, and plunged whole countries into the horrors of a ruthless and bloody war. In more civilized days a great diamond has often been pledged as security for money to replenish an empty treasury in times of stress. The ambitions of Napoleon might have received a set-back but for the funds raised on the security of the famous Pitt diamond. The history of such stones—often one long romance—is full of interest, but space will not permit of more than a brief sketch here. If we except the colossal Cullinan stone, the mines of Brazil and South Africa cannot compare with the old mines of India as the birthplace of large and perfect diamonds of world-wide fame. (1) KOH-I-NOR The history of the famous stone called the Koh-i-nor, meaning Mound of Light, is known as far back as the year 1304, when it fell into the hands of the Mogul emperors, and legend even traces it back some four thousand years previously. It remained at Delhi until the invasion of North-West India by Nadir Shah in 1739, when it passed together with an immense amount of spoil into the hands of the conqueror. At his death the empire which he had so strenuously founded fell to pieces, and the great diamond after many vicissitudes came into the possession of Runjit Singh at Lahore. His successors kept it until upon the fall of the Sikh power in 1850 it passed to the East India Company, in whose name it was presented by Lord Dalhousie to Queen Victoria. At this date the stone still retained its original Indian form, but in 1862 it was re-cut into the form of a shallow brilliant (Fig. 62), the weight thereby being reduced from 1861/16 to 1061/16 carats. The wisdom of this course has been severely criticized; the stone has not the correct shape of a brilliant and is deficient in ‘fire,’ and it has with the change in shape lost much of its old historical interest. The Koh-i-nor is the private poperty of the English Royal Family, the stone shown in the Tower being a model. It is valued at £100,000. (2) PITT OR REGENT This splendid stone was discovered in 1701 at the famous diamond mines at Partial, on the Kistna, about 150 miles (240 km.) from Golconda, and weighed as much as 410 carats in the rough. By devious ways it came into the hands of Jamchund, a Parsee merchant, from whom it was purchased by William Pitt, governor of Fort St. George, Madras, for £20,400. On his return to England Pitt had it cut into a perfect brilliant (Fig. 63), weighing 1637/8 carats, the operation ocupying the space of two years and costing £5000; more than £7000 is said to have been realized from the sale of the fragments left over. Pitt had an uneasy time and lived in constant dread of theft of the stone until, in 1717, after lengthy negotiations, he parted with it to the Duc d’Orléans, Regent of France, for the immense sum of three and three-quarter million francs, about £135,000. With the remainder of the French regalia it was stolen from the Garde-meuble on August 17, 1792, in the early days of the French Revolution, but was eventually restored by the thieves, doubtless because of the impossibility of disposing of such a stone, at least intact, and it is now exhibited in the Apollo Gallery of the Louvre at Paris. It measures about 30 millimetres in length, 25 in width, and 19 in depth, and is valued at £480,000. (3) ORLOFF One of the finest diamonds existing, this large stone forms the top of the imperial sceptre of Russia. It is rose-cut (Fig. 65), the base being a cleavage face, and weighs 1943/4 carats. It is said to have formed at one time one of the eyes of a statue of Brahma which stood in a temple on the island of Sheringham in the Cavery River, near Trichinopoli, in Mysore, and to have been stolen by a French soldier who had somehow persuaded the priests to appoint him guardian of the temple. He sold it for £2000 to the captain of an English ship, who disposed of it to a Jewish dealer in London for £12,000. It changed hands to a Persian merchant, Raphael Khojeh, who eventually sold it to Prince Orloff for, so it is said, the immense sum of £90,000 and an annuity of £4000. It was presented by Prince Orloff to Catherine II of Russia. (4) GREAT MOGUL This, the largest Indian diamond known, was found in the Kollur mines, about the year 1650. Its original weight is said to have been 7871/2 carats, but it was so sull of flaws that the Venetian, Hortensio Borgis, then in India, in cutting it to a rose form reduced its weight to 240 carats. It was seen by Tavernier at the time of his visit to India, but it has since been quite lost sight of. It has been identified with both the Koh-i-nor and the Orloff. and it is even suggested that both these stones were cut from it. (5) SANCY The history of this diamond is very involved, and probably two or more stones have been confused. It may have been the one cut by Berquem for Charles the Bold, from whose body on the fatal day of Nancy, in 1477, it was snatched by a maraudins soldier. It was acquired by Nicholas Harlai, Seigneur de Sancy, who sold it to Queen Elizabeth at the close of the sixteenth century. A hundred years later, in 1695, it was sold by James II to Louis XIV. The stone in the French regalia, according to the inventory taken in 1791, weighed 533/4 carats. It was never recovered after the theft of the regalia in the following year, but may be identical with the diamond which was in the possession of the Demidoff samily and was sold by Prince Demidoff in 1865 to a London firm who were said II to have been acting for Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy, a wealthy Parsee of Bombay. It was shown at the Paris Exhibition of 1867. It was almond-shaped, and covered all over with tiny facets by Indian lapidaries. (6) GREAT TABLE This mysterious stone was seen by Tavernier at Golconda in 1642, but has quite disappeared. It weighed 2423/16 carats. (7) MOON OF THE MOUNTAINS This diamond is often confused with the Orloff. It was captured by Nadir Shah at Delhi, and after his murder was stolen by an Afghan soldier who disposed of it to an Armenian, by name Shaffrass. It was finally acquired by the Russian crown for an enormous sum. (8) NIZAM A large diamond, weighing 340 carats, belonged to the Nizam of Hyderabad; it was fractured at the beginning of the Indian Mutiny. Whether the weight is that previous to fracture or not, there seems to be no information. (9) DARYA-I-NOR This fine diamond, rose-cut and 186 carats in weight, is of the purest water and merits its title of ‘River of Light.’ It seems to have been captured by Nadir Shah at Delhi, and is now the largest diamond in the Persian collection. (10) SHAH This fine stone, of the purest water, was presented to the Czar Nicholas by the Persian prince Chosroes, younger son of Abbas Mirza, in 1843. At that time it still retained three cleavage faces which were engraved with the names of three Persian sovereigns, and weighed 95 carats. It was, however, subsequently re-cut with the loss of 9 carats, and the engraving has disappeared in the process. (11) AKBAR SHAH, OR JEHAN GHIR SHAH Once the property of the great Mogul, Akbar, this diamond was engraved on two faces with Arabic inscriptions by the instructions of his successor, Jehan. It disappeared, but turned up again in Turkey under the name of Shepherd’s Stone; it still retained its original inscriptions and was thereby recognized. In 1866 it was re-cut, the weight being reduced from 116 to 71 carats, and the inscriptions destroyed. The stone was sold to the Gaekwar of Baroda for 31/2 lakhs of rupees (about £23,333). (12) POLAR STAR A beautiful, brilliant-cut stone, weighing 40 carats, which is known by this name, is in the Russian regalia. (13) NASSAK The Nassak diamond, which weighed 893/4 carats, formed part of the Deccan booty, and was put up to auction in London in July 1837. It was purchased by Emanuel, a London jeweller, who for £7200 shortly afterwards sold it to the Duke of Westminster, in whose family it still remains. It was originally pear-shaped, but was re-cut to a triangular form with a reduction in weight to 785/8 carats. (14) NAPOLEON This diamond was purchased by Napoleon Buonaparte for £8000, and worn by him at his wedding with Josephine Beauharnais in 1796. (15) CUMBERLAND This stone, which weighs 32 carats, was purchased by the city of London for £10,000 and presented to the Duke of Cumberland after the battle of Culloden; it is now in the possession of the Duke of Brunswick. (16) PIGOTT A fine Indian stone, weighing 471/2 carats, this diamond was brought to England by Lord Pigott in 1775 and sold for £30,000. It came into the possession of Ali Pacha, Viceroy of Egypt, and was by his orders destroyed at his death. (17) EUGÉNIE This fine stone, weighing 51 carats, was given by the Czarina Catherine II of Russia to her favourite, Potemkin. It was purchased by Napoleon III as a bridal gift for his bride, and on his downfall was bought by the Gaekwar of Baroda. (18) WHITE SAXON Square in contour, measuring 11/12 in. (28 mm.). and weighing 483/4 carats, this stone was purchased by Augustus the Strong for a million thalers (about £150,000). (19) PACHA OF EGYPT This 40-carat brilliant was purchased by Ibrahim. Viceroy of Egypt, for £28,000. (20) STAR OF ESTE Though a comparatively small stone, in weight 251/2 carats, it is noted for its perfection of form and quality. It belongs to the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austrian-Este, eldest son of the Archduke Karl Ludwig. (21) TUSCANY, OR AUSTRIAN YELLOW The beauty of this large stone, 1333/4 carats in weight, is marred by the tinge of yellow, which is sufficiently pronounced to impair its brilliancy; it is a double rose in form. At one time the property of the Grand Dukes of Tuscany, it is now in the possession of the Emperor of Austria. King mentions a tale that it was bought at a curiosity stall in Florence for an insignificant sum, the stone being supposed to be only yellow quartz. (22) STAR OF THE SOUTH This, the largest of the Brazilian diamonds, was discovered at the mines of Bagagem in July 1853. Perfectly transparent and without tint, it was dodecahedral in shape and weighed 2541/2 carats, and was sold in the rough for £40,000. It was cut as a perfect brilliant, being reduced in weight to 1251/2 carats. (23) ENGLISH DRESDEN This beautiful stone, which weighed 1191/2 carats in the rough, was found at the Bagagem mines, in Brazil, in 1857, and came into the possession of Mr. E. Dresden. It was cut as a long, egg-shaped brilliant, weighing 761/2 carats. (24) STAR OF SOUTH AFRICA The first considerable stone to be found in South Africa, it was discovered at the Vaal River diggings in 1869, and weighed 831/2 carats in the rough. It was cut to a triangular brilliant of 461/2 carats. It was finally purchased by the Countess of Dudley for £25,000. (25) STEWART This large diamond, weighing in the rough 2883/8 carats, was found at the Vaal River diggings in 1872, and was first sold for £6000 and shortly afterwards for Koooo; it was reduced on cutting to 120 carats. Like many South African stones, it has a faint yellowish tinge. (26) PORTER-RHODES This blue-white stone, which weighed 150 carats, was found in a claim belonging to Mr. PorterRhodes in the Kimberley mine in February 1880. (27) IMPERIAL, VICTORIA, OR GREAT WHITE This large diamond weighed as much as 457 carats in the rough, and 180 when cut; it is quite colourless. It was brought to Europe in 1884, and was eventually sold to the Nizam of Hyderabad for £20,000. (28) DE BEERS A pale yellowish stone, weighing 4281/2 carats, was found in the De Beers mine in 1888. It was cut to a brilliant weighing 2281/2 carats, and was sold to an Indian prince. A still larger stone of similar tinge, weighing 5031/4 carats, was discovered in 1896, and among other large stones supplied by the same mine may be mentioned one of 302 carats found in 1884, and another of 409 carats found in early years. (29) EXCELSIOR This, which prior to the discovery of the ‘Cullinan,’ was by far the largest South African stone, was found in the Jagersfontein mine on June 30, 1893; bluish-white in tint, it weighed 9691/2 carats. From it were cut twenty-one brilliants, the larger stones weighing 677/8, 4513/16, 4511/16, 393/16, 34, 277/8, 255/8, 2311/16 1611/32, 131/2 carats respectively, and the total weight of the cut stones amounting to 3643/32 carats. (30) JUBILEE Another large stone was discovered in the Jagersfontein mine in 1895. It weighed 634 carats in the rough, and from it was obtained a splendid, faultless brilliant weighing 239 carats. It was shown at the Paris Exhibition of 1900. (31) STAR OF AFRICA, OR CULLINAN All diamonds pale into insignificance when compared with the colossal stone that came to light at the Premier mine near Pretoria in the Transvaal on January 25, 1905. It was first called the ‘Cullinan’ after Sir T. M. Cullinan, chairman of the Premier Diamond Mine (Transvaal) Company, but has recently, by desire of King George V, received the name ‘Star of Africa.’ The rough stone weighed 621.2 grams or 30253/4 carats (about 11/3 lb.); it displayed three natural faces (Plate XXV) and one large cleavage face, and its shape suggested that it was a portion of an enormous stone more than double its size; it was transparent, colourless, and had only one small flaw near the surface. This magnificent diamond was purchased by the Transvaal Government for £150,000, and presented to King Edward VII on his birthday, November 9, 1907. The Cullinan was entrusted to the famous firm, Messrs. I. J. Asscher & Co., of Amsterdam, for cutting on January 23, 1908, just three years after its discovery. On February 10 it was cleaved into two parts, weighing respectively 19771/2 and 10401/2 carats, from which the two largest stones have been cut, one being a pendeloque or drop brilliant in shape (Fig. 67) and weighing 5161/2 carats, and the other a square brilliant (Fig. 68) weighing 3093/16 carats. The first has been placed in the sceptre, and the second in the crown of the regalia. Besides these there are a pendeloque weighing 92 carats, a square-shaped brilliant 62, a heart-shaped stone 183/8, two marquises 89/16 and 111/4, an oblong stone 65/8, a pendeloque 49/32, and 96 small brilliants weighing together 73/8; the total weight of the cut stones amounts to 10365/32 carats. The largest stone has 74 and the second 66 facets. The work was completed and the stones handed to King Edward in November 1908. Although the Premier mine has yielded no worthy compeer of the Cullinan, it can, nevertheless, boast of a considerable number of large stones which but for comparison with that giant would be thought remarkable for their size, no fewer than seven of them having weights of over 300 carats, viz. 511. 4871/4, 4583/4, 3911/2, 373, 348, and 334 carats. (32) STAR OF MINAS This large diamond, which was found in 1911 at the Bagagem mines, Minas Geraes, Brazil, had the shape of a dome with a flat base, and weighed in the rough 35.875 grams (1743/4 carats). The large stone called the ‘Braganza,’ in the Portuguese regalia, which is supposed to be a diamond, is probably a white topaz; it weighs 1680 carats. The Mattan stone, pear-shaped and weighing 367 carats, which was found in the Landak mines near the west coast of Borneo in 1787, is suspected to be quartz. COLOURED DIAMONDS (1) HOPE The largest of coloured diamonds, the Hope, weighs 441/2 carats, and has a steely- or greenishblue, and not the royal-blue colour of the glass models supposed to represent it. It is believed to be a portion of a drop-form stone (d’un beau violet) which was said to have been found at the Kollur mines, and was secured by Tavernier in India in 1642 and sold by him to Louis XIV in 1668; it then weighed 67 carats. This stone was stolen with the remainder of the French regalia in 1792 and never recovered. In 1830 the present stone (Fig. 69) was offered for sale by Eliason, a London dealer, and was purchased for £18,000 by Thomas Philip Hope, a wealthy banker and a keen collector of gems. Probably the apex of the original stone had been cut off, reducing it to a nearly square stone. The slight want of symmetry of the present stone lends confirmation to this view, and two other blue stones are known, which, together with the Hope, make up the weight of the original stone. At the sale of the Hope collection at Christie’s in 1867 the blue diamond went to America. In 1908 the owner disposed of it to Habib Bey for the enormous sum of £80,000. It was put up to auction in Paris in 1909, and bought by Rosenau, the Paris diamond merchant, for the comparatively small sum of 400,000 francs (about £16,000), and was sold in January 1911 to Mr. Edward M’Lean for £60,000. The stone is supposed to bring ill-luck in its train, and its history has been liberally embellished with fable to establish the saying. (2) DRESDEN A beautiful apple-green diamond, faultless, and of the purest water, is contained in the famous Green Vaults of Dresden. It weighs 40 carats, and was purchased by Augustus the Strong in 1743 for 60,000 thalers (about £9000). (3) PAUL I A fine ruby-red diamond, weighing 10 carats, is included among the Russian crown jewels. (4) TIFFANY The lovely orange brilliant, weighing 1253/8 carats, which is in the possession of Messrs. Tiffany & Co., the well-known jewellers of New York, was discovered in the Kimberley mine in 1878.
CHAPTER XIX
CORUNDUM
(Sapphire, Ruby)
Ranking in hardness second to diamond alone, the species known to science as corundum and widely familiar by the names of its varieties, sapphire and ruby, holds a pre-eminent position among coloured gem-stones. The barbaric splendour of ruby (Plate I, Fig. 13) and the glorious hue of sapphire (Plate I, Fig. 11) are unsurpassed, and it is remarkable that the same species should boast such different, but equally magnificent, tints. They, however, by no means exhaust the resources of this variegated species. Fine yellow stones (Plate I, Fig. 12), which compare with topaz in colour and are its superior in hardness, and brilliant colourless stones, which are unfortunately deficient in ‘fire’ and cannot therefore approach diamond, are to be met with, besides others of less attractive hues, purple, and yellowish. bluish, and other shades of green. Want of homogeneity in the coloration of corundum is a frequent phenomenon; thus, the purple stones on close examination are found to be composed of alternate blue and red layers, and stones showing patches of yellow and blue colour are common. Owing to the peculiarity of their interior arrangement certain stones display when cut en cabochon a vivid sixrayed star of light (Plate I, Fig. 15). Sapphire and ruby share with diamond, pearl, and emerald the first rank in jewellery. They are popular stones, especially in rings; their comparative rarity in large sizes, apart from the question of expense, prevents their use in the bigger articles of jewellery. The front of the stones is usually brilliant-cut and the back step-cut, but Indian lapidaries often prefer to cover the stone with a large number of triangular facets, especially if the stone be flawed; star-stones are cut more or less steeply en cabochon, In composition corundum is alumina, oxide of aluminium, corresponding to the formula Al2O3, but it usually contains in addition small quantities, rarely more than 1 per cent., of ferric oxide, chromic oxide, and perhaps other metallic oxides. When pure, it is colourless; the splendid tints which are its glory have their origin in the minute traces of the other oxides present. No doubt chromic oxide is the cause of the ruddy hue of ruby, since it is possible, as explained above (p. 117), closely to imitate the ruby tint by this means, but nothing approaching so large a percentage as 21/2 has been detected in a natural stone. The blue colour of sapphire may be due to titanic oxide, and ferric oxide may be responsible for the yellow hue of the ‘oriental topaz,’ as the yellow corundum is termed. Sapphires, when of considerable size, are rarely uniform in tint throughout the stone. Alternations of blue and red zones, giving rise to an apparent purple or violet tint, and the conjunction of patches of blue and yellow are common. Perfectly colourless stones are less common, a slight bluish tinge being usually noticeable, but they are not in much demand because, on account of their lack of ‘fire,’ they are of little interest when cut. The tint of the red stones varies considerably in depth; jewellers term them, when pale, pink sapphires, but, of course, no sharp distinction can be drawn between them and rubies. The most highly prized tint is the so-called pigeon’s blood, a shade of red slightly inclined to purple. The prices for ruby of good colour run from about 25s. a carat for small stones to between £60 and £80 a carat for large stones, and still higher for exceptional rubies. The taste in sapphires has changed of recent times. Formerly the deep blue was most in demand, but now the lighter shade, that resembling the colour of corn-flower, is preferred, because it retains a good colour in artificial light. Large sapphires are more plentiful than large rubies, and prices run lower; even for large perfect stones the rate does not exceed £30 a carat. Large and uniform ‘oriental topazes are comparatively common, and realize moderate prices, about 2s. to 30s. a carat according to quality and size. Green sapphires are abundant from Australia, but their tint, a kind of deep sage-green, is not very pleasing. Brown stones with a silkiness of structure are also known. The name of the species comes through the French corindon from an old Hindu word, korund, of unknown significance, and arose from the circumstance that the stones which first found their way to Europe came from India. At the present day the word corundum is applied in commerce to the opaque stones used for abrasive purposes, to distinguish the purer material from emery, which is corundum mixed with magnetite and other heavy stones of lower hardness. The origin of the word sapphire, which means blue, has been discussed in an earlier chapter (p. 110). Jewellers use it in a general sense for all corundum except ruby. Ruby comes from the Latin ruber, red. The prefix ‘oriental’ (p. 111) is often used to distinguish varieties of corundum, since it is the hardest of ordinary coloured stones and the finest gem-stones in early days reached Europe by way of the East. Corundum crystallizes either in six-sided prisms terminated by flat faces (Plate I, Fig. 10), which are often triangularly marked, or with twelve inclined faces, six above and six below, meeting in a girdle (Plate I, Fig. 14). Ruby favours the former and the other varieties the latter type. A fine crystal of ruby—the ‘Edwardes,’ so named by the donor, John Ruskin, after Sir Herbert Edwardes—which weighs 33.5 grams (163 carats), is exhibited in the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History), and is tilted in such a way that the light from a neighbouring window falls on the large basal face, and reveals the interesting markings that nature has engraved on it. From its type of symmetry corundum is doubly refractive with a direction of single refraction running parallel to the edge of the prism. Owing to the relative purity of the chemical composition the refractive indices are very constant; the ordinary index ranges from 1.766 to 1.774 and the extraordinary index from 1.757 to 1.765, the double refraction remaining always the same, 0.009. The amount of colour-dispersion is small, and therefore colourless corundum displays very little ‘fire.’ The difference between the indices for red and blue light is, however, sufficiently great that the base of a ruby may be left relatively thicker than that of a sapphire to secure an equally satisfactory effect (cf. p. 98)—a point of some importance to the lapidary, since stones are sold by weight and it is his object to keep the weight as great as possible. When a corundum is tested on the refractometer in white light a wide spectrum deliminates the two portions of the field because of the smallness of the colour-dispersion (cf. p. 25). The dichroism of both ruby and sapphire is marked, the twin colours given by the former being red and purplish-red, and by the latter blue and yellowish-blue, the second colour in each instance corresponding to the extraordinary ray. Tests with the dichroscope easily separate ruby and sapphire from any other red or blue stone. This character has an important bearing on the proper mode of -cutting the stones. The ugly yellowish tint given by the extraordinary ray of sapphire should be avoided by cutting the stone with its table-facet at right angles to the prism edge, which is the direction of single refraction. Whether a ruby should be treated in the same way is a moot point. No doubt if the colour is deep, it is the best plan, because the amount of absorption of light is thereby sensibly reduced, but otherwise the delightful nuances distinguishing ruby are best secured by cutting the table-facet parallel to the direction ol single refraction. Yellow corundum also shows distinct dichroism, but by a variation more of the depth than of the tint of the colour; the phenomenon is faint compared with the dichroic effect of a yellow chrysoberyl. The specific gravity also is very constant, varying only from 3.95 to 4.10; sapphire is on the whole lighter than ruby. Corundum has the symbol 9 on Mohs’s scale, but though coming next to diamond it is a very poor second (cf. p. 79). As is usually the case, the application of heat tends to lighten the colour of the stones: those of a pale violet or a yellow colour lose the tint entirely, and the deep violet stones turn a lovely rose colour. On the other hand the action of radium has, as was shown by Bordas, an intensifying action on the colour, and even develops it in a colourless stone, From the latter reaction it may be inferred that often in an apparently colourless stone two or more selective influences are at work which ordinarily neutralize one another, but, being unequally stimulated by the action of radium, they thereupon give rise to colour. The stellate appearance of asterias or starstones—star-ruby and star-sapphire—results from the regular arrangement either of numerous small channels or of twin-lamellae in the stone parallel to the six sides of the prisms; light is reflected from the interior in the form of a six-rayed star (p. 38). Some stones from Siam possess a markedly fibrous or silky structure. The synthetical manufacture of ruby, sapphire, and other varieties of corundum has already been described (p. 116). Besides its use in jewellery corundum is on account of its hardness of great service for many other purposes. Small fragments are extensively employed for the bearing parts of the movements of watches, and both the opaque corundum and the impure kind known as emery are in general use for grinding and polishing softer stones, and steel and other metal-work. The world’s supply of fine rubies is drawn almost entirely from the famous ruby mines near Mogok, situated about 90 miles (145 km.) in a northeasterly direction from Mandalay in Upper Burma and at an elevation of about 4000 ft. (1200 m.) above sea-level. It is from this district that the stones of the coveted carmine-red, the so-called ‘pigeon’s blood,’ colour are obtained. The ruby occurs in a granular limestone or calcite in association with the spinel of nearly the same appearance —the ‘balas-ruby,’ oriental topaz (yellow corundum), tourmaline, and occasionally sapphire. Some stones are found in the limestone on the sides of the hills, but by far the largest quantity occur in the alluvial deposits, both gravel and clay, in the river-beds; the ruby ground is locally known as ‘ byon.’ The stones are as a rule quite small, averaging only about four to the carat. Before the British annexation of the country in 1885 the mines were a monopoly of the Burmese sovereigns and were worked solely under royal licence. They are known to be of great antiquity, but otherwise their early history is a mystery. It is said that an astute king secured the priceless territory in 1597 from the neighbouring Chinese Shans in exchange for a small and unimportant town on the Irrawaddy; if that be so, he struck an excellent bargain. The mines were allotted to licensed miners, twin-tsas (eaters of the mine) as they were called in the language of the country, who not only paid for the privilege, but were compelled to hand over to the king all stones above a certain weight. As might be anticipated this injunction caused considerable trouble, and the royal monopolists constantly suspected the miners of evading the regulation by breaking up stones of exceptional size; from subsequent experience. it is probable that large stones were in reality seldom found. Since 1887 the mines have been worked by arrangement with the Government of India by the Ruby Mines, Ltd., an English company. Its career has been far from prosperous, but during recent years, in consequence of the improved methods of working the mines and of the more generous terms afterwards accorded by the Government, greater success has been experienced; the future is, however, to some extent clouded by the advent of the synthetical stone, which has even made its way out to the East. Large rubies are far from common, and such as were discovered in the old days were jealously hoarded by the Burmese sovereigns. According to Streeter the finest that ever came to Europe were a pair brought over in 1875, at a time when the Burmese king was pressed for money. One, rich in colour, was originally cushion-shaped and weighed 37 carats; the other was a blunt drop in form and weighed 47 carats. Both were cut in London. the former being reduced to 325/16 carats and the latter to 389/16 carats, and were sold for £10,000 and £20,000 respectively. A colossal stone, weighing 400 carats, is reported to have been found in Burma; it was broken into three pieces, of which two were cut and resulted in stones weighing 70 and 45 carats respectively, and the third was sold uncut in Calcutta for 7 lakhs of rupees (£46,667). The finder of another large stone broke it into two parts, which after cutting weighed 98 and 74 carats respectively; he attemped in vain to evade the royal acquisitiveness, by giving up the larger stone to the king and concealing the other. A fine stone, known by the formidable appellation of ‘Gnaga Boh’ (Dragon Lord), weighed 44 carats in the rough and 20 carats after cutting. Since the mines were taken over by the Ruby Mines, Ltd., a few large stones have been discovered. A beautiful ruby was found in the Tagoungnandaing Valley, and weighed 181/2 carats in the rough and 11 carats after cutting; perfectly clear and of splendid colour, it was sold for £7000, but is now valued at £10,000. Another, weighing 77 carats in the rough, was found in 1899, and was sold in India in 1904 for 4 lakhs of rupees (£26,667). A stone, weighing 49 carats, was discovered in 1887, and an enormous one, weighing as much as 304 carats, in 1890. The ruby, as large as a pigeon’s egg, which is amongst the Russian regalia was presented in 1777 to the Czarina Catherine by Gustav III of Sweden when on a visit to St. Petersburg. The large red stone in the English regalia which was supposed to be a ruby is a spinel (cf. p. 206). Comparatively uncommon as sapphires are in the Burma mines a faultless stone, weighing as much as 791/2 carats, has been discovered there. Good rubies, mostly darker in colour than the Burmese stones, are found in considerable quantity near Bangkok in Siam, Chantabun being the centre of the trade, where, just as in Burma, they are intimately associated with the red spinel. Because of the difference in tint and the consequent difference in price, jewellers draw a distinction between Burma and Siam rubies; but that, of course, does not signify any specific difference between them. Siam is, however, most distinguished as the original home of splendid sapphires. The district of Bo Pie Rin in Battambang produces, indeed, more than half the world’s supply of sapphires. In the Hills of Precious Stones, such being the meaning of the native name for the locality. a number of green corundums are found. Siam also produces brown stones characterized by a peculiar silkiness of structure. Rubies are found in Afghanistan at the Amir’s mines near Kabul and also to the north of the lapis lazuli mines in Badakshan. The conditions in Ceylon are precisely the converse of those obtaining in Burma; sapphire is plentiful and ruby rare in the island. They are found in different rocks, sapphire occurring with garnet in gneiss, and ruby accompanying spinel in limestone, but they come together in the resulting gravels, the principal locality being the gem-district near Ratnapura in the south of the island. The largest uncut ruby discovered in Ceylon weighed 424 carats; it had, however, a decided tinge of blue in it. Ceylon is also noted for the magnificent yellow corundum, ‘oriental topaz,’ or, as it is locally called, ‘king topaz,’ which it produces. Beautiful sapphires occur in various parts of India, but particularly in the Zanskar range of the north-western Himalayas in the state of Kashmir, where they are associated with brown tourmaline. Probably most of the large sapphires known have emanated from India. By far the most gigantic ever reported is one, weighing 951 carats, said to have been seen in 1827 in the treasury of the King of Ava. The collection at the Jardin des Plantes contains two splendid rough specimens; one, known as the ‘Rospoli,’ is quite flawless and weighs 1321/16 carats, and the other is 2 inches in length and 11/2 inches in thickness. The Duke of Devonshire possesses a fine cut stone, weighing 100 carats, which is brilliant-cut above and step cut below the girdle. An image of Buddha, which is cut out of a single sapphire, is exhibited, mounted on a gold pin, in the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History). For some years past a large quantity of sapphires have come into the market from Montana, U.S.A., especially from the gem-district about twelve miles west of Helena. The commonest colour is a bluish green, generally pale, but blue, green, yellow and occasionally red stones are also found; they are characterized by their almost metallic lustre. With them are associated gold, colourless topaz, kyanite, and a beautiful red garnet which is found in grains and usually mistaken for ruby. Rubies are also found in limestone at Cowee Creek, North Carolina. Blue and red corundum, of rather poor quality, has come from the Sanarka River, near Troitsk, and from Miask, in the Government of Orenburg, Russia, and similar stones have been known at Campolongo, St. Gothard, Switzerland. The prolific gem-district near Anakie, Queensland, supplies examples of every known variety of corundum except ruby; blue, green, yellow, and parti-coloured stones, and also star-stones, are plentiful. Leaf-green corundum is known fatther south, in Victoria. The Australian sapphire is too dark to be of much value. Small rubies and sapphires are found in the gem-gravels near the Somabula Forest, Rhodesia.
CHAPTER XX
BERYL
(Emerald, Aquamarine, Morganite)
The species to be considered in this chapter includes the varieties emerald and aquamarine, as well as what jewellers understand by beryl. It has many incontestable claims on the attention of all lovers of the beautiful in precious stones. The peerless emerald (Plate I, Fig. 5), which in its verdant beauty recalls the exquisite lawns that grace the courts and quadrangles of our older seats of learninig, ranks to-day as the most costly of jewels. Its sister stone, the lovely aquamarine (Plate I. Fig. 4), which seems to have come direct from some mermaid’s treasure-house in the depths of a summer sea, has charms not to be denied. Pliny, speaking of this species, truly says, “There is not a colour more pleasing to the eye”; yet he knew only the comparatively inferior stones from Egypt, and possibly from the Ural Mountains. Emeralds are favourite ring-stones, and would, no doubt, be equally coveted for larger articles of jewellery did not the excessive cost forbid, and nothing could be more attractive for a central stone than a choice aquamarine of deep blue-green hue. Emeralds are usually step-cut, though Indian lapidaries often favour the en cabochon form; aquamarines, on the other hand, are brilliant-cut in front and step-cut at the back. Beryl, to use the name by which the species is known to science, is essentially a silicate of aluminium and beryllium corresponding to the formula, Be3Al2, (SiO3)6. The beryllia is often partially replaced by small amounts of the alkaline earths, caesia, potash, soda, and lithia, varying from about 11/2 per cent. in beryl from Mesa Grande to nearly 5 in that from Pala and Madagascar, and over 6, of which 3.6 is caesia, in beryl from Hebron, Maine; also, as usual, chromic and ferric oxides take the place of a little alumina; from 1 to 2 per cent, of water has been found in emerald. The element beryllium was, as its name suggests, first discovered in a specimen of this species, the discovery being made in 1798 by the chemist Vauquelin; it is also known as glucinum in allusion to the sweet taste of its salts. When pure, beryl is colourless, but it is rarely, if ever, free from a tinge of blue or green. The colour is usually some shade of green—grass-green, of that characteristic tint which is in consequence known as emerald-green, or blue-green, yellowish green (Plate 1, Fig. 6), and sometimes yellow, pink, and rosered. The peculiar colour of emerald is supposed to be caused by chromic oxide, small quantities of which have been detected in it by chemical analysis moreover, experiment shows that glass containing the same percentage amount of chromic oxide assumes the same splendid hue. Emerald, on being heated, loses water, but retains its colour unimpaired, which cannot therefore be due, as has been suggested, to organic matter. The term aquamarine is applied to the deep sea-green and blue-green stones, and jewellers restrict the term beryl to paler shades and generally other colours, such as yellow, golden, and pink, but Kunz has recently proposed the name morganite to distinguish the beautiful rose beryl such as is found in Madagascar. The varying shades of aquamarine are due to the influence of the alkaline earths modified by the presence of ferric oxide or chromic oxide; the beautiful blushing hue of morganite is no doubt caused by lithia. The name of the species is derived from the Greek βήρυλλος, an ancient word, the meaning of which has been lost in the mists of time. The Greek word denoted the same species in part as that now understood by the name. Emerald is derived from a Persian word which appeared in Greek as σμάραγδος, and in Latin as smaragdus; it originally denoted chrysocolla, or similar green stone, but was transferred upon the introduction of the deep-green beryl from Upper Egypt. The name aquamarine was suggested by Pliny’s exceedingly happy description of the stones “which imitate the greenness of the clear sea,” although it was not actually used by him. That emerald and beryl were one species was suspected by Pliny, but the identity was not definitely established till about a century ago. Morganite is named after John Pierpont Morgan. The natural crystals have the form of a six-sided prism, and in the case of emerald (Fig. 70, and Plate I, Fig. 8) invariably, if whole, end in a single face at right angles to the length of the prism; aquamarines have in addition a number of small inclined faces, and stones from both Russia and Brazil often taper owing to the effects of corrosion. The sixfold character of the crystalline symmetry necessarily entails that the double refraction, which is small in amount, ooo6, is uniaxial in character, and, since the ordinary is greater than the extraordinary refractive index, it is negative in sign. The values of the indices range between 1.567 and 1.590, and 1.572 and 1.598 respectively, in the two cases, the pink beryl possessing the highest values. The dichroism is distinct in the South American emerald, the twin colours being yellowish and bluish green, but otherwise is rather faint. The specific gravity varies between 2.69 and 2.79, and is therefore a little higher than that of quartz. If, therefore, a beryl and a quartz be floating together in a tube containing a suitable heavy liquid, the former will always be at a sensibly lower level (cf. Fig. 32). The hardness varies from 71/2 to 8, emerald being a little softer than the other varieties. There is no cleavage, but like most gem-stones beryl is very brittle, and can easily be fractured. Stones rendered cloudy by fissures are termed ‘mossy. When heated before the blowpipe beryl is fusible with difficulty; it resists the attack of hydrofluoric acid as well as of ordinary acids. In all probability the whole of the emeralds known in ancient times came from the so-called Cleopatra emerald mines in Upper Egypt. For some reason they were abandoned, and their position was so completely lost that in the Middle Ages it was maintained that emeralds had never been found in Egypt at all, but had come from America by way of the East. All doubts were set at rest by the re-discovery of the mines early last century by Cailliaud, who had been sent by the Viceroy of Egypt to search for them. They were, however, not much worked, and after a few years were closed again, and were re-opened only about ten years ago. The principal mines are at Jebel Zabara and at Jebel Sikait in northern Etbai, about 10 miles (16 km.) apart and distant about 15 miles (24 km.) from the Red Sea, lying in the range of mountains that run for a long distance parallel to the west coast of the Red Sea and rise to over 1800 feet (550 m.) above sea-level. There are numerous signs of considerable, but primitive, workings at distinct periods. Both emeralds and beryls are found in micaceous and talcose schists. The emeralds are not of very good quality, being cloudy and rather light in colour. Finer emeralds have been found in a dark mica-schist, together with other beryllium minerals, chrysoberyl and phenakite, and also topaz and tourmaline on the Asiatic side of the Ural Mountains, near the Takowaja River, which flows into the Bolshoi Reft River, one of the larger tributaries of the Pyschma River, about fifty miles (80 km.) east of Ekaterinburg, a town which is chiefly concerned with the mining and cutting of gem-stones. The mine was accidentally discovered by a peasant, who noticed a few green stones at the foot of an uprooted tree in 1830. Two years later the mine was regularly worked, and remained open for twenty years, when it was closed. It has recently been re-opened owing to the high rates obtaining for emeralds, Very large crystals have been produced here, but in colour they are much inferior to the South American stones; small Siberian emeralds, on the other hand, are of better colour than small South American emeralds, the latter being not so deep in tint. Emeralds have been found in a similar kind of schist at Habachtal, in the Salzburg Alps. About thirty years ago well-formed green stones were discovered with hiddenite at Stony Point, Alexander County, in North Carolina, but not much gem material has come to light. The products of none of the mines that have just been mentioned can on the whole compare with the beautiful stones which have come from South America. At the time when the Spaniards grimly conquered Peru and ruthlessly despoiled the country of the treasures which could be carried away, immense numbers of emeralds—some of almost incredible size—were literally poured into Spain, and eventually found their way to other parts of Europe. These stones were known as Spanish or Peruvian emeralds, but in all probability none of them were actually mined in Peru. Perhaps the most extraordinary were the five choice stones which Cortez presented to his bride, the niece of the Duke de Bejar, thereby mortally offending the Queen, who had desired them for herself, and which were lost in 1 529 when Cortez was shipwrecked on his disastrous voyage to assist Charles V at the siege of Algiers. All five stones had been worked to divers fantastic shapes. One was cut like a bell with a fine pearl for a tongue, and bore on the rim, in Spanish, “Blessed is he who created thee.” A second was shaped like a rose, and a third like a horn. A fourth was fashioned like a fish, with eyes of gold. The fifth, which was the most valuable and the most remarkable of all, was hollowed out into the form of a cup, and had a foot of gold; its rim, which was formed of the same precious metal, was engraved with the words, “Inter natos mulierum non surrexit major.” As soon as the Spaniards had seized nearly all the emeralds that the natives had amassed in their temples or for personal adornment, they devoted their attention to searching for the source of these marvels of nature, and eventually in 1558 they lighted by accident upon the mines in what is now the United States of Colombia, which have been worked almost continuously since that time. Since the natives, who naturally resented the gross injustice with which they had been treated, and penetrated the greed that prompted the actions of the Spaniards, hid all traces of the mines, and refused to give any information as to their position, it is possible that other emerald mines may yet be found. The present mines are situated near the village of Muzo, about 75 miles (120 km.) north-north-west of Bogota, the capital of Colombia. The emeralds occur in calcite veins in a bituminous limestone of Cretaceous age. The Spaniards formerly worked the mines by driving adits through the barren rock on the hillsides to the gem-bearing veins, but at the present day the open cut method of working is employed. A plentiful supply of water is available, which is accumulated in reservoirs and allowed at the proper time to sweep the debris of barren rock away into the Rio Minero, leaving the rock containing the emeralds exposed. Stones, of good quality, which are suited for cutting, are locally known as canutillos, inferior stones, coarse or ill-shaped, being called morallons. Emerald, unlike some green stones, retains its purity of colour in artificial light; in fact, to quote the words of Pliny, “For neither sun nor shade, nor yet the light of candle, causeth to change and lose their lustre.” Many are the superstitions that have been attached to it. Thus it was supposed to be good for the eyes, and as Pliny says, “Besides, there is not a gem or precious stone that so fully possesseth the eye, and yet never contenteth it with satiety. Nay, if the sight hath been wearied and dimmed by intentive poring upon anything else, the beholding of this stone doth refresh and restore it again.” The idea that it was fatal to the eyesight of serpents appears in Moore’s lines
“Blinded like serpents when they gaze
Upon the emerald’s virgin blaze.”
The crystals occur attached to the limestone, and are therefore never found doubly terminated. The crystal form is very simple, merely a hexagonal prism with a flat face at the one end at right angles to it. They are invariably flawed, so much so that a flawless emerald has passed into proverb as unattainable perfection. The largest single crystal which is known to exist at the present day is in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire (Fig. 71). In section it is nearly a regular hexagon, about 2 inches (31 mm.) in diameter from side to side, and the length is about the same; its weight is 276.79 grams (93/4 oz. Av., or 1347 carats). It is of good colour, but badly flawed. It was given to the Duke of Devonshire by Dom Pedro of Brazil, and was exhibited at the Great Exhibition of 1851. A fine, though much smaller crystal, but of even better colour, which weighs 32.2 grams (1561/2 carats) and measures 11/8 inch (28 mm.) in its widest crossdiameter, and about the same in length, was acquired with the Allan-Greg collection by the British Museum, and is exhibited in the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History). The finest cut emerald is said to be one weighing 30 carats, which belongs to the Czar of Russia. A small, but perfect and flawless, faceted emerald, which is set in a gold hoop, is also in the British Museum (Natural History). It is shown, without the setting, about actual size, on Plate 1, Fig. 5. The ever great demand and the essentially restricted supply have forced the cost of emeralds of good quality to a height that puts large stones beyond the reach of all but a privileged few who have purses deep enough. The rate per carat may be anything from £15 upwards, depending upon the purity of the colour and the freedom from flaws, but it increases very rapidly with the size, since flawless stones of more than 4 carats or so in weight are among the rarest of jewels; a perfect emerald of 4 carats may easily fetch £1600 to £2000. It seems anomalous to say that it has never been easier to procure fine stones than during recent years, but the reason is that the high prices prevailing have tempted owners of old jewellery to realize their emeralds. On the other hand, pale emeralds are worth only a nominal sum. The other varieties of beryl are much less rare, and, since they usually attain to more considerable, and sometimes even colossal, size, far larger stones are obtainable. An aquamarine, particularly of good deep blue-green colour, is a stone of great beauty, and it possesses the merit of preserving its purity of tint in artificial light. It is a favourite stone for pendants, brooches, and bracelets, and all purposes for which a large blue or green stone is desired, The varying tints are said to be due to the presence of iron in different percentages, and possibly in different states of oxidation. Unlike emerald, the other varieties are by no means so easily recognized by their colour. Blue aquamarines may easily be mistaken for topaz, or vice versa, and the yellow beryl closely resembles other yellow stones, such as quartz, topaz, or tourmaline. Stones which are colourless or only slightly tinted command little more than the price of cutting, but the price of blue-green stones rapidly advances with increasing depth of tint up to £2 a carat. The enormous cut aquamarine which is exhibited in the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History), affords some idea of the great size such stones reach; a beautiful sea-green in colour, it weighs 179’5 grams (875 carats), and is table-cut with an oval contour. The splendid six-sided columns which have been discovered in various parts of Siberia are among the most striking specimens in any large mineral collection. The neighbourhood of Ekaterinburg in the Urals is prolific in varieties of aquamarine; especially at Mursinka have fine stones been found, in association with topaz, amethyst, and schorl, the black tourmaline. Good stones also occur in conjunction with topaz at Miask in the Government of Orenburg. It is found in the gold-washings of the Sanarka River, in the Southern Urals, but the stones are not fitted for service as gems. Magnificent blue-green and vellow aquamarines are associated with topaz and smoky quartz in the granite of the AdunTschilon Mountains, near Nertschinsk, Transbaikal. Stones have also been found at the Urulga River in Siberia. Most of the bluish-green aquamarines which come into the market at the present time have originated in Brazil, particularly in Minas Novas, Minas Geraes, where clear, transparent stones, of pleasing colour, in various shades, are found in the utmost profusion; beautiful yellow stones also occur at the Bahia mines. Aquamarine was obtained in very early times in Coimbatore District, Madras, India, and yellow beryl comes from Ceylon, Fine blue crystals occur in the granite of the Mourne Mountains, Ireland, but they are not clear enough for cutting purposes; similar stones are found also at Limoges, Haute Vienne, France. Aquamarines of various hues abound in several places in the United States, among the principal localities being Stoneham in Maine, Haddam in Connecticut, and Pala and Mesa Grande in San Diego County, California. The last-named state is remarkable for the numerous stones of varying depth of salmonpink that have been found there. It is, however, surpassed by Madagascar, which has recently produced splendid stones of perfect rose-red tint and of the finest gem quality, some of them being nearly 100 carats in weight. These stones, which have been assigned a special name, morganite (cf. supra), are associated with tourmaline and kunzite. Pink and yellow beryls and deep blue-green aquamarines occur in the island in quantity. The pink beryls from California are generally pale or have a pronounced salmon tint, and seldom approach the real rose-red colour of morganite; one magnificent rose-red crystal, weighing nearly 9 lb. (4.05 kg.), has, however, been recently discovered in San Diego County, California, and is now in the British Museum (Natural History). Blue-green beryl. varying in tint from almost colourless to an emerald-green, occurs with tin-stone and topaz about 9 miles (141/2 km.) north-east of Emmaville in New South Wales, Australia. Probably the largest and finest aquamarine crystal ever seen was one found by a miner on March 28, 1910, at a depth of 15 ft. (5 m.) in a pegmatite vein at Marambaya, near Arassuahy, on the Jequitinhonha River, Minas Geraes, Brazil. It was greenish blue in colour, and a slightly irregular hexagonal prism, with a flat face at each end, in form; it measured 19 in. (48.5 cm.) in length and 16 in. (41 cm.) in diameter, and weighed 243 lb. (110.5 kg.); and its transparency was so perfect that it could be seen through from end to end (Plate XXVI). The crystal was transported to Bahia, and sold for $25,000 (£5133).
PART II—SECTION B
SEMI-PRECIOUS STONES
CHAPTER XXI
TOPAZ
Topaz is the most popular yellow stone in jewellery, and often forms the principal stone in brooches or pendants, especially in oldfashioned articles. It is a general idea that all yellow stones are topazes, and all topazes are yellow; but neither statement is correct. A very large number of yellow stones that masquerade as topaz are really the yellow quartz known as citrine. The latter is, indeed, almost universally called by jewellers topaz, the qualification ‘Brazilian’ being used by them to distinguish the true topaz. Many species besides those mentioned yield yellow stones. Thus corundum includes the beautiful ‘oriental topaz’ or yellow sapphire, and yellow tourmalines are occasionally met with; the yellow chrysoberyl always has a greenish tinge. Topaz is generally brilliant-cut in front and step-cut at the back, and the table facet is sometimes rounded, but the colourless stones are often cut as small brilliants; it takes an excellent and dazzling polish. Topaz is a silicate of aluminium corresponding to the formula [AI(F,OH)]2SiO4, which was established in 1894 by Penfield and Minor as the result of careful research. Contrary to the general idea, topaz is usually colourless or very pale in tint. Yellow hues of different degrees, from pale to a rich sherry tint (Plate I, Fig. 9), are common, and pure pale blue (Plate I, Fig. 7) and pale green stones, which often pass as aquamarine, are far from rare. Natural, red and pink, stones are very seldom to be met with. It is, however, a peculiarity of the brownish-yellow stones from Brazil that the colour is altered by heating to a lovely rose-pink. Curiously, the tint is not apparent when the stone is hot, but develops as it cools to a normal temperature; the colour seems to be permanent. Such stones are common in modern jewellery. Although the change in colour is accompanied by some slight rearrangement of the constituent molecules, since such stones are invariably characterized by high refraction and pronounced dichroism, the crystalline symmetry, however, remaining unaltered, the cause must be attributed to some change in the tinctorial agent, probably oxidation. The yellow stones from Ceylon, if treated in a similar manner, lose their colour entirely. The pale yellow-brown stones from Russia fade on prolonged exposure to strong sunlight, for which reason the superb suite of crystals from the Urulga River, which came with the Koksharov collection to the British Museum, are kept under cover. The name of the species is derived from topazion (τοϖάζειν, to seek), the name given to an island in the Red Sea, which in olden times was with difficulty located, but it was applied by Pliny and his contemporaries to the yellowish peridot found there. The term was applied in the Middle Ages loosely to any yellow stone, and was gradually applied more particularly to the stone that was then more prevalent, the topaz of modern science. As has already been pointed out (p. 111), the term is still employed in jewellery to signify any yellow stone. The true topaz was probably included by Pliny under the name chrysolithus. The symmetry is orthorhombic, and the crystals are prismatic in shape and terminated by numerous inclined faces, and usually by a large face perpendicular to the prism edge Topaz cleaves with (Fig. 72). great readiness at right angles to the prism edge; owing to its facile cleavage, flaws are easily started, and caution must be exercised not to damage a stone by knocking it against hard and unyielding substances. The dichroism of a yellow topaz is always perceptible, one of the twin colours being distinctly more reddish than the other, and the phenomenon is very marked in the case of stones the colour of which has been artificially altered to pink. The values of the least and the greatest of the principal indices of refraction vary from 1.615 to 1.629, and from 1.625 to 1.637, respectively, the double refraction being about oo1o in amount, and positive in sign. The high values correspond to the altered stones. The specific gravity, the mean value of which is 3.55 with a variation of 0.05 on either side, is higher than would be expected from the refractivity. A cleavage flake exhibits in convergent polarized light a wideangled biaxial picture, the eyes lying outside the field of view. The relation of the principal optical directions and the directions of single refraction to the crystal are shown in Fig. 27. The hardness is 8 on Mohs’s scale, and in this character it is surpassed only by chrysoberyl, corundum. and diamond. Topaz is pyro-electric, in which respect tourmaline alone exceeds it, and it may be strongly electrified by friction. Although the range of refraction overlaps that of tourmaline, there is no risk of confusion, because the latter has nearly thrice the amount of double refraction (cf. p. 29). Apart from the difference in refraction, a yellow topaz ought never to be confused with a yellow quartz, because the former sinks, and the latter floats in methylene iodide. The same test distinguishes topaz from beryl, and. indeed, from tourmaline also. Judged by the criterion of price, topaz is not in the first rank of precious stones. Stones of good colour and free from flaws are now, however, scarce. Pale stones are worth very little, possibly less than 4s. a carat, but the price rapidly advances with increase in colour, reaching 20s. for yellow, 80s. for pink and blue stones. Since topazes are procurable in all sizes customary in jewellery, the rates vary but slightly, if at all, with the size. Topaz occurs principally in pegmatite dykes and in cavities in granite, and is interesting to petrologists as a conspicuous instance of the result of the action of hot acid vapours upon rocks rich in aluminium silicates. Magnificent crystals have come from the extensive mining district which stretches along the eastern flank of the Ural Mountains, and from the important mining region surrounding Nertschinsk, in the Government of Transbaikal, Siberia. Fine green and blue stones have been found at Alabashka, near Ekaterinburg. in the Government of Perm, and at Miask in the Ilmen Mountains, in the Government of Orenburg. Topazes of the rare reddish hue have been picked out from the gold washings of the Sanarka River. Troisk, also in the Government of Orenburg. Splendid pale-brown stones have issued from the Urulga River, near Nertschinsk, and good crystals have come from the Adun-Tschilon Mountains, Kamchatka has produced yellow, blue, and green stones. In the British Isles, beautiful sky-blue. waterworn crystals have been found at Cairngorm. Banffshire, in Scotland, and colourless stones in the Mourne Mountains, Ireland, and at St. Michaels Mount, Cornwall. Most of the topazes used in jewellery of the present day come from either Brazil or Ceylon. Ouro Preto, Villa Rica, and Minas Novas, in the State of Minas Geraes, are the principal localities in Brazil. Numerous stones, often waterworn, brilliant and colourless or tinted lovely shades of blue and wine-yellow, occur there; reddish stones also have been found at Ouro Preto Ceylon furnishes a profusion of yellow, light-green, and colourless, waterworn pebbles. The colourless stones found there are incorrectly termed by the natives ‘water-sapphire’ and the light-green stones are sold with beryl as aquamarines; the stones locally known as king topaz are really yellow corundum (cf. p. 181). Colourless crystals, sometimes with a faint tinge of colour, have been discovered in many parts of the world, such as Ramona, San Diego County, California, and Pike’s Peak, Colorado, in the United States, San Luis Potosi in Mexico, and Omi and Otami-yama in Japan.
CHAPTER XXII
SPINEL
(Balas-Ruby, Rubicelle)
Spinel labours under the serious disadvantage of being overshadowed at almost all points by its opulent and more famous cousins, sapphire and ruby, and is not so well known as it deserves to be. The only variety which is valued as a gem is the rose-tinted stone called balas-ruby (Plate XXVII, Fig. 3), which is very similar to the true ruby in appearance; they are probably often confused. especially since they are found in intimate association in nature. Spinels of other colours are not very attractive to the eye, and are not likely to be in much demand. Blue spinel (Plate XXVII, Fig. 4) is far from common, but the shade is inclined to steely-blue, and is much inferior to the superb tint of the true sapphire. Spinel is very hard and eminently suitable for a ring-stone, but is seldom large and transparent enough for larger articles of jewellery. Spinel is an aluminate of magnesium corresponding to the formula MgAl2O4 and therefore is closely akin to corundum, alumina, and chrysoberyl. aluminate of beryllium. The composition may, however, vary considerably owing to the isomorphous replacement of one element by another; in particular, ferrous oxide or manganese oxide often takes the place of some magnesia, and ferric oxide or chromic oxide is found instead of part of the alumina. When pure, spinel is devoid of colour. but such stones are exceedingly rare. No doubt chromic oxide is responsible for the rose-red hue of balas-ruby, and also, when tempered by ferric oxide, for the orange tint of rubicelle, and manganese is probably the cause of the peculiar violet colour of almandine-spinel. It is scarcely possible to define all the shades between blue and red that may be assumed by spinel. Stones which are rich in iron are known as pleonaste or ceylonite; they are quite opaque, but are sometimes used for ornamental wear. The name of the species comes from a diminutive form of σϖϊνος, a spark, and refers to the fiery red colour of the most valued kind of spinel. It may be noted that the Latin equivalent of the word. carbunculus, has been applied to the crimson garnet when cut en cabochon. Balas is derived from Balascia, the old name for Badakshan, the district from which the finest stones were brought in mediæeval times. Spinel, like diamond, belongs to the cubic system of crystalline symmetry, and occurs in beautiful octahedra, or in flat triangular-shaped plates (Figs. 73.74) the girdles of which are cleft at each corner, these plates being really twinned octahedra. The refraction is, of course, single, and there is therefore no double refraction or dichroism; this test furnishes the simplest way of discriminating between the balas and the true ruby. Owing to isomorphous replacement the value of the refractive index may lie anywhere between 1.716 and 1.736. The lower values, about 1.720, correspond to the most transparent red and blue stones; the deep violet stones have values above 1.730. Spinel possesses little colour-dispersion, or ‘ fire. In the same way the values of the specific gravity, even of the transparent stones, vary between 3.5 and 3.7, but the opaque ceylonite has values as high as 4.1. Spinel is slightly softer than sapphire and ruby, and has the symbol 8 on Mohs’s scale, and it is scarcely inferior in lustre to these stones. Spinel is easily separated from garnet of similar colour by its lower refractivity. Spinels run from 10s. to £5 a carat, depending on their colour and quality, and exceptional stones command a higher rate. Spinel always occurs in close association with corundum. The balas and the true ruby are mixed together in the limestones of Burma and Siam. Curiously enough, the spinel despite its lower hardness is found in the river gravels in perfect crystals, whereas the rubies are generally waterworn. Fine violet and blue spinels occur in the prolific gemgravels of Ceylon. A large waterworn octahedron and a rough mass, both of a fine red colour, are exhibited in the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History), and a beautiful faceted blue stone is shown close by. The enormous red stone, oval in shape, which is set in front of the English crown, is not a ruby, as it was formerly believed to be, but a spinel. It was given to the gallant Black Prince by Pedro the Cruel after the battle of Najera in 1367, and was subsequently worn by Henry v upon his helmet at the battle of Agincourt. As usual with Indianfashioned stones it is pierced through the middle, but the hole is now hidden by a small stone of similar colour. The British Regalia also contains the famous stone called the Timur Ruby or Khiraj-i-Alam (Tribute of the World), which weighs just over 352 carats, and is the largest spinel-ruby known. It is uncut, but polished. Its history goes back to 1398, when it was captured by the Amir Timur at Delhi. On the wane of the Tartar empire the stone became the property of the Shahs of Persia, until it was given by Abbas I to his friend and ally, the Mogul Emperor, Jehangir. It remained at Delhi until, on the sack of that city by Nadir Shah in 1739, it, together with immense booty, including the Koh-i-nor, fell into the hands of the conqueror. Like the great diamond, it eventually came into the possession of Runjit Singh at Lahore, and on the annexation of the Punjab in 1850 passed to the East India Company. It was shown at the Great Exhibition of 1851, and afterwards presented to Queen Victoria. Mention has been made above (p. 121) of the blue spinel which is manufactured in imitation of the true sapphire. The artificial stone is quite different in tint from the blue spinel found in nature.
CHAPTER XXIII
GARNET
The important group of minerals which are known under the general name of garnet provides an apt illustration of the fact that rarity is an essential condition if a stone is to be accounted precious. Owing to the large quantity of Bohemian garnets, of a not very attractive shade of vellowish redh, that have been literally poured upon the market during the past half century the species has become associated with cheap and often ineffetive jewellery. and has acquired a stigma which completely prevents its attaining any popularity with those prolesing a nice taste in gem-stones. It must not however, be supposed that garnet has entirely disappeared from high-class jewellery although the name may not readily be found in a jewellers catalogue. Those whose business it is to sell gemstones are fully alive to the importance of a name and, as has already been remarked (p. 109) they have been fain to meet the prejudices of their customers by offering garnets under such misleadine guises as ‘Cape-ruby,’ ‘Uralian emerald,’ or ‘olivine.’ Garnets may, moreover, figure under another name quite unintentionally. Probably many a fine stone masquerades as a true ruby; the impossibility of distinguishing these two species in certain cases by eye alone is perhaps not widely recognized. An instructive instance came under the writer’s notice a few years ago. A lady one day had the misfortune to fracture one of the stones in a ruby ring that had been in the possession of her family for upwards of a century, and was originally purchased of a leading firm of jewellers in London. She took the ring to her jeweller, and asked him to have the stone replaced by another ruby. A day or two later he sent word that it was scarcely worth while to put a ruby in because the stones in the ring were paste. Naturally distressed at such an opinion of a ring which had always been held in great esteem by her family, the lady consulted a friend, who suggested showing it to the writer. A glance was sufficient to prove that if the ring had been in use so long the stones could not possibly be paste on account of the excellent state of their polish, but a test with the refractometer showed that the stones were really almandine-garnets, which so often closely resemble the true ruby in appearance. Beautiful as the stones were, the ring was probably not worth onetenth what the value would have been had the stones been rubies. To the student of mineralogy garnet is for many reasons of peculiar interest. It affords an excellent illustration of the facility which certain elements possess for replacing one another without any great disturbance of the crystalline form. Despite their apparent complexity in composition all garnets conform to the same type of formula: lime, magnesia, and ferrous and manganese oxides, and again alumina and ferric and chromic oxides may replace each other in any proportion, iron being present in two states of oxidation, and it would be rare to find a stone which agrees in composition exacty with any of the different varieties of garnet given below. Garnet belongs to the cubic system of crystalline symmetry. Its crystals are commonly of two kinds. both of which are very characteristic, the regular dodecahedron, ie. twelve-faced figure (Fig. 75), and the tetrakis-octahedron or three-faced octahedron (Fig. 76); the latter crystals are, especially when weather- or water-worn, almost spherical in shape. Closer and more refined observations have shown that garnet is seldom homogeneous, being usually composed of several distinct individuals of a lower order of symmetry. Although singly refractive as far as can be determined with the refractometer or by deviation through a prism, yet when examined under the polarizing microscope, garnets display invariably a small amount of local double refraction. The transition from light to darkness is however, not sharp as in normal cases, but is prolonged into a kind of twilight. In hardness, garnet is on the whole about the same as quartz, but varies slightly; hessonite and andradite are a litle softer. pyrope, spessartite, and almandine are a little harder while uvarovite is almost the same. All the varieties except uvarovite are fusible when heated before the blowpipe, and small fragments melt suffciently on the surface in the ordinary bunsen fame to adhere to the platinum wire holding them. This test is very useful for separating rough red garnets, pyrope or almandine, from red spinels or zircons of very similar appearance. Far greater variation occurs in the other physical characters. The specific avity may have any value between 3.55 and 4.20, and the refractive index ranges between 1.740 and 1.890. Both the specific gravity and the reractive index increase on the whole with the percentage amount of iron. Garnet is a prominent constitutent of many kinds of rocks, but the material most suitable for gem purposes occurs chiefly in crystalline schists or metamorphic limestones. Pyrope and demantoid are furnished by peridotites and the serpentines resulting from them, almandine and spessartite come mostly from granites. The name of the species is derived from the Latin granatus, seed-like, and is suggested by the appearance of the spherical crystals when embedded in their pudding-like matrix. The varieties most adapted to jewellery are the fiery-red pyrope and the crimson and columbine-red almandine; the closer they approach the ruddy hue of ruby the better they are appreciated. Hessonite was at one time in some demand, but it inclines too much to the yellowish shade of red and possesses too little perfection of transparency to accord with the taste of the present day. Demantoid provides beautiful, pale and dark emerald-green stones, of brilliant lustre and high dispersion, which are admirably adapted for use in pendants or necklaces; on account of their comparative softness it would be unwise to risk them in rings. In many stones the colour takes a yellowish shade, which is less in demand. Uvarovite also occurs in attractive emerald-green stones, but unfortunately none as vet have been found large enough for cuting. A fey truly magnificent spessartites are known-one, a splendid example, weighing 63/4 carats, being in the posesion of Sir Arthur Church; but the species is far too seldom transparent to come into general use. The price varies per carat from 2s, for common garnet to 108, for stones most akin to ruby in colour, and exceptional demantoids may realie even as much as £10 a carat. The old style of cutting was almost invariably rounded or eu cabochon, but at the present day the brilliant cut front and the step-cut back is most commonly adopted. The several varieties will now be considered in detail. (a) HESSONITE (Grossular, Cinnamon-Stone, Hyacinik, Jacinth) This variety, strictly a calcium aluminium garnet corresponding to the formula Ca3Al2(SiO4)3, but generally containing some feric oxide and therefore tending towards andradite, is called by several different names. In science it is usually termed grossular, a word derived from grossalaria, the botanical name for gosebery, in allusion to the colour and appearance of many crystals, or hesonite, and less corectly essonite, words derived from the Greek ήσσων in reference to the inferior hardness of these stones as compared with ziron of similar colour; in jewellery it is better known as cinnamon-stone, if a golden-yellow in colour or hyacinth or jacinth. The last word, which is indiscriminately used for hessonite and yellow zircon, but should more properly be applied to the latter, is derived from an old Indian word (ct. p. 229); jewellers, however, retain it for the garnet. Only the yellow and orange shades of hessonite (Plate XXIX, Fig. 5) are used for jewellery. Neither the brownish-green kind, to which the term grossular may properly be applied, nor the rose-red is transparent enough to serve as a gem-stone. Hessonite may mostly be recognized, even when cut, by the curiously granular nature of its structure, just as if it were composed of tiny grains imperfectly fused together; this appearance, which is very characteristic, may readily be perceived if the interior of the stone be viewed through a lens of moderate power. The specific gravity varies from 3.55 to 3.66, and the refractive index from 1.742 to 1.748. The hardness is on the whole slightly below that of quartz. When heated before a blowpipe it easily fuses to a greenish glass. The most suitable material is found in some profusion in the gem-gravels of Ceylon, in which it is mixed up with zircon of an almost identical appearance; both are called hyacinth. Hessonites from other localities, although attractive as museum specimens, are not large and clear enough for cutting purposes. Switzerland at one time supplied good stones, but the supply has long been exhausted. (B) PYROPE (‘Cape-Ruby’) Often quite ruby-red in colour (Plate XXIX, Fig, 6), this variety is probably the most popular of the garnets. It is strictly a magnesium-aluminium garnet corresponding to the formula Mg3Al2(SiO4)3. but usually contains some ferrous oxide and thus approaches almandine. Both are included among the precious garnets. Its name is derived from πυρωπός, fire-like, in obvious allusion to its characteristic colour. Although at its best pyrope closely resembles ruby, its appearance is often marred by a tinge of yellow which decidedly detracts from its value. Pyrope generally passes as a variety of ruby, and under such names as ‘Cape-ruby,’ ‘Arizona-ruby.’ depending on the origin of the stones, commands a brisk sale. The specific gravity varies upwards from 3.70, depending upon the percentage amount of iron present, and similarly the refractive index varies upwards from 1.740; in the higher values pyrope merges into almandine. Its hardness is slightly greater than that of quartz, and may be xpressed on Mohs’s scale by the symbol 71/4. An enormous quantity of small red stones, mostly with a slight tinge of yellow, have been brought to light at Teplitz, Aussig, and other spots in the Bohemian Mittelgebirge, and a considerable industry in cutting and marting them has grown up at Bilin. Fine ruby-red stones accompany diamond in the ‘blue ground’ of the mines at Kimberley and also at the Premier mine in the Transvaal. Similar stones are also found in Arizona and Colorado in the United States, and in Australia, Rhodesia, and elsewhere. Although commonly quite small in size, pyrope has occasionally attained to considerable size. According to De Boodt the Kaiser Rudolph Il had one in his possession valued at 45,000 thalers (about £6750). The Imperial Treasury at Vienna contains a stone as large as a hen’s egg. Another about the size of a pigeon’s egg is in the famous Green Vaults at Dresden, and the King of Saxony has one, weighing 4681/2 carats, set in an Order of the Golden Fleece. (c) RHODOLITE This charming pale-violet variety was found at Cowee Creek and at Mason’s Branch, Macon County, North Carolina, U.S.A., but in too limited amount to assume the position in jewellery it might otherwise have expected. In composition it lies between pyrope and almandine, and may be supposed to contain a proportion of two molecules of the former to one of the latter. Its specific gravity is 3.84, refractive index 1.760, and hardness 71/4. It exhibits in the spectroscope the absorption-bands characteristic of almandine. (d) ALMANDINE (Carbuncle) This variety is iron-aluminium garnet corresponding to the formula Fe3Al2(SiO4)3 but the composition is very variable. In colour it is deep crimson and violet or columbine-red (Plate XXIX, Fig. 8), but with increasing percentage amount of ferric oxide it becomes brown and black, and opaque, The name of and quite unsuitable for jewellery. the variety is a corruption of Alabanda in Asia Minor, where in Pliny’s time the best red stones were cut. Almandine is sometimes known as Syriam, or incorrectly Syrian garnet, because at Syriam, once the capital of the ancient kingdom of Pegu, which now forms part of Lower Burma, such stones were cut and sold. Crimson stones, cut in the familiar en cabochon form and known as carbuncles, were extensively employed for enriching metalwork, and a half-century or so ago were very popular for ornamental wear, but their day has long since gone. Such glowing stones are aptly described by their name, which is derived from the Latin carbunculus, a little spark. In Pliny’s time however, the term was used indiscriminately for all red stones. It has already been remarked that the word spinel has a similar significance. The specific gravity varies from 3.90 for transparent stones to 4.20 for the densest black stones, and the refractive index may be as high as 1.810. Almandine is one of the hardest of the garnets, and is represented by the symbol 71/2 on Mohs’s scale, The most interesting and curious feature of almandine lies in the remarkable and characteristig absorption-spectrum revealed when the transmitted light is examined with a spectroscope (p. 61). The phenomenon is displayed most vividly by the violet stones, and is, indeed, the cause of their peculiar colour. Although a common mineral, almandine of a quality fitted for jewellery occurs in comparatively few localities. It is found in Ceylon, but not so plentifully as hessonite. Good stones are mined in various parts of India, and are nearly all cut at Delhi or Jaipur. Brazil supplies good material, especially in the Minas Novas district of Minas Geraes, where it accompanies topaz, and Uruguay also furnishes serviceable stones. Almandine is found in Australia, and in many parts of the United States. Recently small stones of good colour have been discovered at Luisenfelde in German East Africa. (e) SPESSARTITE Properly a manganese-aluminium garnet corresponding to the formula Mn3Al2(SiO4)3, this variety generally contains iron in both states of oxidation. If only transparent and large enough its aurora-red colour would render it most acceptable in jewellery. Two splendid stones have, indeed, been found in Ceylon (p. 211), and good stones rather resembling hessonites have been quarried at Amelia Court House in Virginia, and others have come from Nevada; otherwise, spessartite is unknown as a gem-stone. The specific gravity ranges from 4.0 to 4.3, and the refractive index is about 1.81, both characters being high; the hardness is slightly greater than that of quartz. (f) ANDRADITE (Demantoid, Topazolite, ‘Olivine’ Andradite is strictly a calcium-iron garnet corresponding to the formula Ca3Fe2(SiO4)3, but as usual the composition varies considerably. It is named after d’Andrada, a Portuguese mineralogist, who made a study of garnet more than a century ago. Once contemptuously styled common garnet, andradite suddenly sprang into the rank of precious stones upon the discovery some thirty years ago of the brilliant, green stones (Plate XXIX, Fig. 2) in the serpentinous rock beside the Bobrovka stream, a tributary of the Tschussowaja River, in the Sissersk district on the western side of the Ural Mountains. The shade of green varies from olive through pistachio to a pale emerald, and is probably due to chromic oxide. Its brilliant lustre, almost challeng ing that of diamond, and its enormous colourdispersion, in which respect it actually transcends diamond, raise it to a unique position among coloured stones. Unfortunately its comparative softness limits it to such articles of jewellery as pendants and necklaces, where it is not likely to be rubbed. When first found it was supposed to be true emerald, which does actually occur near Ekaterinburg, and was termed ‘Uralian emerald.’ When analysis revealed its true nature, it received from science the slightly inharmonious name of demantoid in compliment to its adamantine lustre jewellers, however, prefer to designate it olivine. not very happily, because the stones usually cut are not olive-green and the name is already in extensive use in science for a totally distinct species (p. 225); they recognized the hopelessness of endeavouring to find a market for them as garnets. The yellow kind of andradite known as topazolite would be an excellent gem-stone if only it were found large and transparent enough. Ordinary andradite is brown or black, and opaque; it has occasionally been used for mourning jewellery. The specific gravity varies from 3.8 to 3.9, being about 3.85 for demantoid, which has a high refractive index, varying from 1.880 to 1.890, and may with advantage be cut in the brilliant form. It is the softest of the garnets, being only 61/2 on Mohs’s scale. (g) UVAROVITE This variety, which is altogether unknown in jewellery, is a calcium-iron garnet corresponding mainly to the formula Ca3Cr2(SiO4)3, but with some alumina always present, and was named after a Russian minister. It has an attractive green colour, and is, moreover, hard, being about 71/2 on Mohs’s scale, but it has never yet come to light of a size suitable for cutting. The specific gravity is low, varying from 3.41 to 3.52. Unlike the kindred varieties it cannot be fused by heating before an ordinary blowpipe.
CHAPTER XXIV
TOURMALINE
(Rubellite)
Tourmaline is unsurpassed even by corundum in variety of hue, and it has during recent years rapidly advanced in public favour. mainly owing to the prodigal profusion in which nature has formed it in that favoured State, California, the garden of the west. Its comparative sottness militates against its use in rings, but its gorgeous coloration renders it admirably fitted for service in any article of jewellery, such as a brooch or a pendant, in which a large central stone is required. Like all coloured stones it is generally brilliant-cut in front and step-cut at the back, but occasionally it is sufficiently fibrous in structure to display, when cut en cabochon, pronounced chatoyancy. The composition of this complex species has long been a vexed question among mineralogists, but considerable light was recently thrown on the subject by Schaller, who showed that all varieties of tourmaline may be referred to a formula of the type 12SiO2.3B2O3.(9-x)[(Al,Fe)2O3].3x(Fe,Mn,Ca,Mg,K2,Na2,Li2,H2)O]3H2O. The ratios of boric oxide, silica, and water are nearly constant in all analyses, but great variation is possible in the proportions of the other constituents. Having regard to this complexity, it is not surprising to find that the range in colour is so great. Colourless stones, to which the name achroite is sometimes given, were at one time exceedingly rare, but they are now found in greater number in California, Stones which are most suited to jewellery purposes are comparatively free from iron, and apparently owe their wonderful tints to the alkaline earths; lithia, for instance, is responsible for the beautiful tint of the highly prized rubellite, and magnesia, no doubt, for the colour of the brown stones of various tints. Tourmaline rich in iron is black and almost opaque. It is a striking peculiarity of the species that the crystals are rarely uniform in colour throughout, the boundaries between the differently coloured portions being sharp and abrupt, and the tints remarkably in contrast. Sometimes the sections are separated by planes at right angles to the length of the crystal, and sometimes they are zonal, bounded by cylindrical surfaces running parallel to the same length. In the latter case a section perpendicular to the length shows zones of at least three contrasting tints. In the Brazilian stones the core is generally red, bounded by white, with green on the exterior, while the reverse is the case in the Californian stones, the core being green or yellow, bounded by white, with red on the exterior. Tourmaline may, indeed, be found of almost every imaginable tint, except, perhaps, the emerald green and the royal sapphire-blue. The principal varieties are rose-red and pink (rubellite) (Plate XXVII, Fig. 1), green (Brazilian emerald), indigo-blue (indicolite), blue (Brazilian sapphire). yellowish green (Brazilian peridot) (Plate XXVII Fig. 2), honey-yellow (Ceylonese peridot), violet-red (siberite), and brown (Plate XXVII, Fig. 8). The black, opaque stones are termed schorl. The name of the species is derived from the Ceylonese word, turamali, and was first employed when a parcel of gem-stones was brought to Amsterdam from Ceylon in 1703; in Ceylon. however, the term is applied by native jewellers to the yellow zircon commonly found in the island. Schorl, the derivation of which is unknown, is the ancient name for the species, and is still used in that sense by miners, but it has been restricted by science to the black variety. The Brazilian emerald’ was introduced into Europe in the seventeenth century and was not favourably received. possibly because the stones were too dark in colour and were not properly cut; that they should have been confused with the true emerald is eloquent testimony to the extreme ignorance of the characters of gem-stones prevalent in those dark ages, Achroite comes from the Greek, άχροος, without colour. To the crystallographer tourmaline is one of the most interesting of minerals. If the crystals, which are usually prismatic in form, are doubly terminated. the development is so obviously different at the two ends (Fig. 77) as to indicate that directional character in the molecular arrangement, termed the polarity. which is borne out by other physical properties. Tourmaline is remarkably dichroic. A brown stone, except in very thin sections, is practically opaque to the ordinary ray, and consequently a section cut parallel to the crystallographic axis, i.e. to the length of a crystal prismatically developed, transmits only the extraordinary ray. Such sections were in use for yielding plane-polarized light before Nicol devised the calcite prism known by his name (ct. p. 44). It is evident that tourmaline, unless very light in tint, must be cut with the table facet parallel to that axis, because otherwise the stone will appear dark and lifeless. The values of the extraordinary and ordinary refractive indices range between 1.614 and 1.638, and 1.633 and 1.669 respectively; the double refraction, therefore, is fairly large, amounting to 0.025, and, since the ordinary exceeds the extraordinary ray, its character is negative. The specific gravity varies from 3.0 to 3.2. The lower values in both characters correspond to the lighter coloured stones used in jewellery; the black stones, as might be expected from their relative richness in iron, are the densest. The hardness is only about the same as that of quartz, or perhaps a little greater, varying from 7 to 71/2. It will be noticed that the range of refractivity overlaps that of topaz (q.v.), but the latter has a much smaller double refraction, and may thus be distinguished (p. 29). Unmounted stones are still more easily distinguished, because tourmaline floats in methylene iodide, while topaz sinks. The pyroelectric phenomenon (cf. p. 82) for which tourmaline is remarkable, although of little value as a test in the case of a cut stone, is of great scientific interest, because it is strong evidence of the peculiar crystalline symmetry pertaining to its molecular arrangement. Tourmalines range in price from 5s. to 20s. a carat according to their colour and quality. but exceptional stones may command a higher rate. Tourmaline is usually found in the pegmatite dykes of granites, but it also occurs in schists and in crystalline limestones. Rubellite is generally associated with the lithia mica, lepidolite; the groups of delicate pink rubellite bespangling a background of greyish white lepidolite are among the most beautiful of museum specimens. Magnificent crystals of pink, blue, and green tourmaline have been found in the neighbourhood of Ekaterinburg, principally at Mursinka, in the Urals, Russia. and fine rubellite has come from the Urulga River. and other spots near Nertschinsk, Transbaikal. Asiatic Russia. Elba produces pink, yellowish. and green stones, frequently particoloured; sometimes the crystals are blackened at the top, and are then known locally as ‘nigger-heads.’ Ceylon supplies smal yellow stones—the original tourmaline —which are confused with the zircon of a similar colour, and rubellite accompanies the ruby at Ava. Burma. Beautiful crystals, green and red, often diversely coloured, come from various parts, such as Minas Novas and Arassuhy, of the State of Minas Geraes, Brazil. Suitable gem material has been found in numerous parts of the United States, Paris and Hebron in Maine have produced gorgeous pink and green crystals, and Auburn in the same state has supplied deep-blue, green, and lilac stones, Fine crystals, mostly green, but also pink and particoloured, occur in an albite quarry near the Conn River at Haddam Neck, Connecticut. All former localities have, however, been surpassed by the extraordinary abundance of superb green, and especially pink, crystals at Pala and Mesa Grande in San Diego County, California. As elsewhere, many-hued stones are common. The latter locality supplies the more perfectly transparent crystals. Kunz states that two remarkable rubellite crystals were found there, one being 45 mm, in length and 42 mm. in diameter, and the other 56 mm. in length and 24 mm. in diameter. Madagascar, which has proved of recent years to be rich in gem-stones, supplies green, yellow, and red stones, both uniformly tinted and particoloured, which in beauty, though perhaps not in size, bear comparison with any found elsewhere.
CHAPTER XXV
PERIDOT
The beautiful bottle-green stone, which from its delicate tint has earned from appreciative admirers the poetical sobriquet of the evenine emerald, and which has during recent years crept into popular favour and now graces much of the more artistic jewellery, is named as a gem-stone peridot—a word long in use among French jewellers. the origin and meaning of which has been forgotten—but is known to science either as olivine, on account of the olive-green colour sometimes characterizing it, or as chrysolite. It is of interest to note that the last word, derived from xovgés, golden, and NOos, stone, was in use at the time of Pliny, but was employed for topaz and other velloy stones, while his topaz, curiously enough, designated the modern peridot (cf. p. 199), an inversion that has occurred in other words. The true olivine must not be confused with the jewellers’ ‘olivine,’ which is a green garnet from the Ural Mountains (p. 217). Peridot is comparatively soft, the hardness varyving from 61/2 to 7 on Mohss scale, and is suitable only for articles which are not likely to be scratched; the polish of a peridot worn in a ring would soon deteriorate. The choicest stones are in colour a lovely bottle-green (Plate XXIX, Fig. 2) of various depths; the olive-green stones (Plate XXIX, Fig. 3) cannot compare with their sisters in attractiveness. The step form of cutting is considered the best for peridot, but it is sometimes cut round or oval in shape, with brilliant-cut fronts. Peridot is a silicate of magnesium and iron, corresponding to the formula (Mg,Fe)2SiO4, ferrous iron, therefore, replacing magnesia. To the ferrous iron it is indebted for its colour, the pure magnesium silicate being almost colourless, and the olive tint arises from the oxidation of the iron. The latitude in the composition resulting from this replacement is evinced in the considerable range that has been observed in the physical characters, but the crystalline symmetry persists unaltered; the lower values correspond to the stones that are usually met with as gems. Peridot belongs to the orthorhombic system of crystalline symmetry, and the crystals, which display a large number of faces, are prismatic in form and generally somewhat flattened. The stones, however, that come into the market for cutting as gems are rarely unbroken. The dichroism is rather faint, one of the twin colours being slightly more vellowish than the other, but it is more pronounced in the olive-tinted stones. The values of the least and greatest of the principal indices of refraction vary greatly, from 1.650 and 1.683 to 1.668 and 1.701, but the double refraction, amounting to 0.033, remains unaffected. Peridot, though surpassed by sphene in extent of double refraction, easily excels all the ordinary gem-stones in this respect, and this character is readily recognizable in a cut stone by the apparent doubling of the opposite edges when viewed through the table facet (cf. p. 41). An equally large variation occurs in the specific gravity, namely, from 3.3 to 3.5. Peridots of deep bottle-green hue command moderate prices at the present day, about 30s, a carat being asked for large stones; the paler tinted stones run down to a few shillings a carat. The rate per carat may be very much larger for stones of exceptional size and quality. Olivine, to use the ordinary mineralogical term, is a common and important constituent of certain kinds of igneous rocks, and it is also found in those strange bodies, meteorites, which come to us from outer cosmical space. Except in basaltic lavas, it occurs in grains and rarely in well-shaped crystals. Stones that are large and transparent enough for cutting purposes come almost entirely from the island Zebirget or St. John situated on the west coast of the Red Sea, opposite to the port of Berenice. This island belongs to the Khedive of Egypt, and is at present leased to a French syndicate. It is believed to be the same as the mysterious island which produced the ‘topaz’ of Pliny’s time. Magnificent stones have been discovered here, rich green in colour, and 20 to 30. and occasionally as much as 80, carats in weight when cut; a rough mass attained to the large weight of 190 carats. Pretty, light-green stones are supplied by Queensland, and peridots of a less pleasing dark-yellowish shade of green, and without any sign of crystal form, have during recent vears come from North America. Stones rather similar to those from Queensland have latterly been found in the Bernardino Valley in Upper Burma, not far from the ruby mines.
CHAPTER XXVI
ZIRCON
(Jargoon, Hyacinth, Jacinth)
Zircon, which, if known at all in jewellery, is hyacinth or jacinth, is a species that deserves greater recognition than it receives. The colourless stones rival even diamond in splendour of brilliance and display of ‘fire’; the leaf-green stones (Plate XXIX, Fig. 13) possess a restful beauty that commends itself; the deep-red stones (Plate XXIX, Fig. 14), if somewhat sombre, have a certain grandeur; and no other species produces such magnificent stones of golden-yellow hue (Plate XXIX, Fig. 12). Zircon is well known in Ceylon, which supplies the world with the finest specimens, and is highly appreciated by the inhabitants of that sunny isle, but it scarcely finds a place in jewellery elsewhere. The colourless stones are cut as brilliants, but brilliant-cut fronts with step-cut backs is the usual style adopted for the coloured stones. Zirçon is a silicate of zirconium corresponding to the formula ZrSiO4, but uranium and the rare earths are generally present in small quantities. The aurorared variety is known as hyacinth or jacinth, and the term jargoon is applied to the other transparent varieties, and especially to the yellow stones. The most attractive colours shown by zircon are leafgreen, golden-yellow, and deep red. Other common colours are brown, greenish, and sky-blue. Colourless stones are not found in nature, but result from the application of heat to the yellow and brown stones. The name of the species is ancient, and comes from the Arabic zargun, vermilion, or the Persian zarqūn, gold-coloured. From the same source in all probability is derived the word jargoon through the French jargon and the Italian giacone. Hyacinth (ci. p. 21 1) is transliterated from the Greek ύάκινθς, itself adapted from an old Indian word; it is in no way connected with the flower of the same name. The last word has seen some changes of meaning. In Pliny’s time yellow zircons were indiscriminately classified with other yellow stones as chrysolite, His hyacinth was used for the sapphire of the present day, but was subsequently applied to any transparent corundum. Upon the introduction of the terms, sapphire and ruby, for the blue and the red corundum hyacinth became restricted to the other varieties, of which the yellow was the commonest. In the darkness of the Middle Ages it was loosely employed for all yellow stones emanating from India, and was finally, with increasing discernment in the characters of gem-stones, assigned to the yellow zircon, since it was the commonest yellow stone from India. Considered from the scientific point of view, zirçon is by far the most interesting and the most remarkable of the gem-stones. The problem presented by its characters and constitution is one that still awaits a satisfactory solution. Certain zircons, which are found as rolled pebbles in Ceylon and never show any trace of crystalline faces, have very nearly single refraction, and the values of the refractive index vary from 1.790 to 1.840, and the specific gravity is about 4.00 to 4.14, and the hardness is slightly greater than that of quartz, being about 71/4. On the other hand, such stones as the red zircons from Expailly have remarkably different properties, They show crystalline faces with tetragonal symmetry, the faces present being four prismatic faces mutually intersecting at right angles and four inclined faces at each end (Fig. 78). They have large double refraction, varying from 0.044 to 0.062, which is readily discerned in a cut stone (cf. p. 41), and the refractive indices are high, the ordinary index varying from 1.923 to 1.931 and the extraordinary from 1.967 to 1.993. Since the ordinary is less than the extraordinary index the sign of the double refraction is positive. The specific gravity likewise is much higher, varying from 4.67 to 4.71. The second type, therefore, sinks in molten silver-thallium nitrate, whereas the first type floats. The second type is also slightly harder, being about 71/2 on Mohs’s scale. By heating either of these types the physical characters are not much altered, except that the colour is weakened or entirely driven off and some change takes place in the double refraction. But between these two types may be found zircons upon which the effect of heating is striking. They seem to contract in size so that the specific gravity increases as much as three units in the first place of decimals, and a corresponding increase takes place in the refractive indices, and in the amount of double refraction. The cause of these changes remains a matter of speculation. Evidently a third type of zircon exists which is capable of most intimate association with either of the other types, and which is very susceptible to the effect of heat. It may be noted that stones of the intermediate type are usually characterized by a banded or zonal structure suggesting a want of homogeneity. The theory has been advanced that zircon contains an unknown element which has not yet been separated from zirconium. Zircon of the first type favours green, sky-blue, and golden-yellow colours; honey-vellow. light green, blue, and red colours characterize the second type; and the intermediate stones are mostly yellowish green, cloudy blue, and green. It is another peculiarity of zirçon that it sometimes shows in the spectroscope absorption bands (P. 61), which were observed in 1866 by Church. Many zircons do not exhibit the bands at all, and others only display the two prominent bands in the red end of the spectrum. Of all the gem-stones zircon alone approaches diamond in brilliance of lustre, and it also possesses considerable ‘fire’; it can, of course, be readily distinguished by its inferior hardness, but a judg ment based merely on inspection by eye might éasily be erroneous. According to Church, who has made a lifelong study of zircon, the green and yellowish stones of the first variety emit a brilliant orange light when being ground on a copper wheel charged with diamond dust, and the golden stones of the intermediate type glow with a fine orange incandescence in the flame of a bunsen burner; the latter phenomenon is supposed to be due to the presence of thoria. The leaf-green stones almost invariably show a series of parallel bands in the interior. Zircons vary from 5s. to 15s. a carat, but exceptional stones may be worth more. By far the finest stones come from Ceylon. The colourless stones are there known as ‘Matura diamonds,’ and the hyacinth includes garnet (hessonite) of similar colour, which is found with it in the same gravels. The stones are always waterworn. Small hyacinths and deep-red stones come from Expailly, Auvergne, France, and yellowish-red crystals are found in the Ilmen Mountains, Orenburg, Russia. Remarkably fine red stones have been discovered at Mudgee, New South Wales, and yellowish-brown stones accompany diamond at the Kimberley mines, South Africa.
CHAPTER XXVII
CHRYSOBERYL
(Chrysolite, Cat’s-Eye, Cymophane, Alexandrite)
Chrysoberyl has at times enjoyed fleeting popularity on account of the excellent cat’s eyes cut from the fibrous stones, and in the form of alexandrite it meets with a steadier, if still limited demand. It is a gem-stone that is seldom met with in ordinary jewellery, although its considerable hardness befits it for all such purposes. Chrysoberyl is in composition an aluminate of beryllium corresponding to the formula BeAl2O4, and is therefore closely akin to spinel. It usually contains some ferric and chromic oxides in place of alumina, and ferrous oxide in place of beryllia, and it is to these accessory constituents that its tints are due. Other gem-stones containing the uncommon element beryllium are phenakite and beryl. Pale yellowish green, the commonest colour, is supposed to be caused by ferrous oxide; such stones are known to jewellers as chrysolite (Plate XXVII, Fig. 12). Cat’s-eyes (Plate XXIX, Fig. 1) have often also a brownish shade of green. The bluish green and dark olive-green stones known as alexandrite (Plate XXVII. Figs. 11, 13) differ in appearance so markedly from their fairer sisters that their common parentage seems almost incredible. The dull fires that glow within them, and the curious change that comes over them at night, add a touch of mystery to these dark stones. Chromic oxide is held responsible for their colour. The cat’s-eyes are, of course, always cut en cabochon, but otherwise chrysoberyl is faceted. The name of the species is composed of two Greek words, χρυσός, golden, and βήρύλλος, beryl. and etymologically more correctly defines the lightercoloured stones, which were, indeed, at one time the only kind known. Chrysolite from χρυσός, golden, and λίθος, stone, has much the same significance. This name is preferred by jewellers, but in science it is applied to an entirely different species. which is known in jewellery as peridot. Cymophane, from κΰμα, wave, and φαίνειν, appear, refers to the peculiar opalescence characteristic of cat’s eyes; it is sometimes used to designate these stones. but does not find a place within the vocabulary of jewellery. Alexandrite is named after Alexander II, Czar of Russia, because it first came to light on his birthday. That circumstance, coupled with its display of the national colours, green and red, and its at one time restriction to the mining district near Ekaterinburg, renders it dear to the heart of all loyal Russians. Chrysoberyl crystallizes in the orthorhombic system, and occurs in rather dull, complex crystals. which are sometimes so remarkably twinned, especially in the variety called alexandrite, as to simulate hexagonal crystals. In keeping with the crystalline symmetry it is doubly refractive and biaxial, having two directions of single refraction. The least and the greatest of the principal indices of refraction may have any values between 1.742 and 1.749. and 1.750 and 1.757, respectively, the maximum amount of double refraction remaining always the same, namely, 0.009. The mean principal refractive index is close to the least; the sign of the double refraction is therefore positive, and the shadow-edge corresponding to the lower index, as seen in the refractometer, has little, if any, perceptible motion when the stone is rotated. The converse is the case with corundum; the sign is negative, and it is the shadow-edge corresponding to the greater refractive index that remains unaltered in position on rotation of the stone. This test would suffice to separate chrysoberyl from yellow corundum, even if the refractive indices of the former were not sensibly lower than those of the latter. Also, the dichroism of chrysolite is stronger than that of vellow sapphires. In alexandrite this phenomenon is most prominent; the absorptive tints, columbine-red. orange, and emerald-green, corresponding to the three principal optical directions, are in striking contrast, and the first differs so much from the intrinsic colour of the stone as to be obvious to the unaided eye, and is the cause of the red tints visible in a cut stone. The curious change in colour of alexandrite. from leaf-green to raspberry-red, that takes place when the stone is seen by artificial light, is due to a different cause, as has been pointed out above (P. 54). The effect is illustrated by Figs. 11, 13 on Plate XXVII, which represent a fine Ceylon stone as seen by daylight and artificial light; the influence of dichroism may be noticed in the former picture, The specific gravity of chrysoberyl varies from 3.68 to 3.78. In hardness this species ranks above spinel and comes next to corundum, being given the symbol 81/2 on Mohs’s scale. Certain stones contain a multitude of microscopic channels arranged in parallel position. When the stones are cut with their rounded surface parallel to the channels, a broadish band of light is visible running across the stone at right angles to them, and suggests the pupil of a cat’s eye, whence the common name for the stones. The fact that the channels are hollow causes an opalescence, which is absent from the quartz cat’s-eye. The most important locality for the yellowish chrysoberyl is the rich district of Minas Novas, Minas Geraes, Brazil, where it occurs in the form of pebbles, and excellent material is also supplied by Ceylon, in both crystals and rounded pebbles, Other places for chrysolite are Haddam, Connecticut, and Greenfield, Saratoga County, New York. in the United States, and recently in the gemgravels near the Somabula Forest, Rhodesia, Ceylon supplies some of the best cat’s-eyes. Alexandrite was first discovered, as already stated, at the emerald mines near Ekaterinburg, in the Urals; but the supply is now nearly exhausted. A poorer quality comes from Takowaja, also in the Urals, Good alexandrite has come to light in Ceylon, and most of the stones that are placed on the market at the present day have emanated from that island. The Ceylon stones reach a considerable size, often as much as from 10 to 20 carats in weight; the Russian stones have a better colour and are more beautiful, but they are less transparent, and rarely exceed a carat in weight. Good chrysolite may be worth from 1os. to £2 a carat, and cat’s-eye runs from £1 to £4 a carat, depending upon the quality. Alexandrites meet with a steady demand in Russia, and fine stones are scarce; flawless stones about a carat in weight are worth as much as £30 a carat, and even quite ordinary stones fetch £4 a carat. From Ceylon, that interesting home of gems, have originated some magnificent chrysoberyls, including a superb chrysolite, 803/4 carats in weight, and another, a splendid brownish yellow in colour and very even in tint, and two large alexandrites, green in daylight and a rich red by night, weighing 633/8 and 2823/32 carats. The finest cut chrysolite existing is probably the one exhibited in the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History). Absolutely flawless and weighing 433/4 carats, it was formerly contained in the famous Hope collection, and is described on page 56 and figured on Plate XXI of the catalogue prepared by B. Hertz, which was published in 1839; the weight there given includes the brilliants and the ring in which it was mounted. It is shown, about actual size, in Plate XXVII, Fig. 12. A magnificent cat’s-eye, 35.5 by 35 mm. in size, which also formed part of the Hope collection, was included in the crown jewels taken from the King of Kandy in 1815. The crystalline markings in the cut stone are so arranged that the lower half shows an altar overhung by a torch. The stone has been famous in Ceylon for many ages. It was set in gold with rubies cut en cabochon. Two fine Ceylon alexandrites of exceptional merit, weighing 42 and 263/4 carats, are also exhibited in the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History). The former is illustrated in Plate XXVII, Figs. 11, 13, as seen in daylight and in artificial light.
CHAPTER XXVIII
QUARTZ
(Rock-Crystal, Amethyst, Citrine, Cairngorm, Cat’s Eye, Tiger’s-Eye)
Although the commonest and, in its natural form, the most easily recognizable of mineral substances, quartz nevertheless holds a not inconspicuous position among gem-stones, because, as amethyst (Plate XXVII, Fig. 7), it provides stones of the finest violet colour; moreover, the yellow quartz (Plate XXVII, Fig. 5) so ably vies with the true topaz that it is universally known to jewellers by the name of the latter species, and is too often confounded with it, and the lustrous, limpid rock-crystal even aspires to the local title of ‘diamond.’ For all purposes where a violet or yellow stone is required. quartz is admirably suited; it is hard and durable. and it has the merit, or possibly to some minds the drawback, of being moderate in price. Despite its comparative lack of fire, rock-crystal might replace paste in rings and buckles with considerable advantage from the point of view of durability. The chatoyant quartz, especially in the form known as tigers-eye, will for beauty bear comparison with the true caf’s-eye, which is a variety of chrysoberyl. Except that cat’s-eye is cut en cabochon, quartz is step- or sometimes brilliant-cut. Ranking with corundum next to diamond as the simplest in composition of the gem-stones, quartz is the crystallized form of silica, oxide of silicon, corresponding to the formula SiO2. When pure, it is entirely devoid of the faintest trace of colour and absolutely water-clear. Such stones are called rock crystal, and it is easy to understand why in early days it was supposed to represent a form of petrified water. It is these brilliant, transparent stones that are, when small, known in many localities as ‘diamonds.’ Before the manufacture of glass was discovered and brought to perfection, rock-crystal was in considerable use for fashioning into cups, vases, and so forth. The beautiful tints characterizing quartz are due to the usual metallic oxides. To manganese is given the credit of the superb purple or violet colour of amethyst, which varies considerably in depth. Jewellers are inclined to distinguish the deep-coloured stones with the prefix ‘oriental,’ but the practice is to be deprecated, since it might lead to confusion with the true oriental amethyst, which is a purple sapphire, one of the rarest varieties of corundum. Quartz of a vellow hue is properly called citrine, but, as already stated. jewellers habitually prefer the name ‘topaz’ for it. and distinguish the true topaz by the prefix Brazilian—not a very happy term, since both the yellow topaz and the yellow quartz occur plentifully in Brazil. Sometimes the yellow quartz is termed occidental, Spanish, or false topaz. Stones with a brownish or smoky tinge of yellow are called cairngorm, or Scotch topaz. The colour of the yellow stones is doubtless due to a trace of ferric oxide. Stones of a smoky brown colour are known as smoky-quartz. Rose-quartz, which is rose-red or pink in colour and hazy in texture, is comparatively rare; strange to say, it has never been found in distinct crystals. The tint, which may be due to titanium, is fugitive, and fades on exposure to strong sunlight. In milky quartz, as the name suggests, the interior is so hazy as to impart to the stone a milky appearance. It has frequently happened that quartz has crystallized after the formation of other minerals, with the result that the latter are found inside it. Prase, or mother-of-emerald, which at one time was supposed to be the mother-rock of emerald. is a quartz coloured leek-green by actinolite fibres in the interior. Specimens containing hair-like fibres of rutile—the so-called flêches d’amour—are common in mineral collections, and are sometimes to be seen worked. When enclosing a massive, light-coloured, fibrous mineral, the stones have a chatoyant effect, and display, when suitably cut, a fine cat’s-eye effect; in tiger’s-eye the enclosed mineral is crocidolite, an asbestos, the original blue hue of which has been changed to a fine golden-brown by oxidation. Quartz which contains scales of mica, hematite, or other flaky mineral has a vivid spangled appearance, and is known as aventurine; it has occasionally been employed for brooches of similar articles of jewellery. Rainbow-quartz, or fris, is a quartz which contains cracks, the chromatic effect being the result of the interference of light reflected from them; it has been artificially produced by heating the stone and suddenly cooling it. The name of the species is an old German mining term of unknown meaning which has been in general use in all languages since the sixteenth century. Amethyst is derived from άμέθυστος, not drunken. possibly from a toolish notion that the wearer was exempt from the usual consequences of unrestrained libations. Pliny suggests as an alternative explanation that its colour approximates to, but does not quite reach, that of wine. Aventurine, from aventura. an accident, was first applied to glass spangled with copper, the effect being said to have been accidentally discovered owing to a number of copper hilings falling into a pot of molten glass in a Venetian factory. Quartz belongs to the hexagonal system of crystalline symmetry, and crystallizes in the familiar six-sided prisms terminated by six inclined, often triangular, faces (Fig. 79); twins are common, though they are not always obvious from the outward development. In accordance with the symmetry the refraction is double, and there is one direction of single refraction, namely, that parallel to the edge of the prism. The ordinary refractive index has the value 1.544, and the extraordinary 1.553, and since the latter is the greater, the sign of the double refraction is positive. The double refraction is small in amount, but is large enough to enable the apparent doubling of certain of the opposite edges of a faceted stone to be perceptible when viewed with a lens through the table-facet. The dichroism of the deep-coloured stones is quite distinct. Quartz has only about the same amount of colour dispersion as ordinary glass, and lacks, therefore, ‘fire.’ The application of strong heat tends, as usual, to weaken or drive off the colour. Thus the dense smoky-quartz found in Spain, Brazil, and elsewhere is converted into stones of a colour varying from light yellow to reddish brown according to the amount and duration of the application. In the case of amethyst the colour is changed to a deep orange, or entirely driven off if the temperature be high enough. Its density is very constant, varying only from 2.654 to 2.660; the purest stones are the lightest. To it has been assigned the symbol 7 on Mohs’s scale of hardness. To physicists quartz is one of the most interesting of minerals because of its power of rotating, to an extent depending upon the thickness of the section, the plane of polarization of a beam of light traversing it in a direction parallel to the prism edge. It appears, moreover, from a study of the pyroelectric and general physical characters, that its molecular structure has a helical arrangement, which, like all screws, may have a right- or left-handed character. Améthyst is, in fact, invariably composed of separate twin individuals, alternately right- and left-handed; in some remarkable crystals the section at right angles to the prism edge is composed of triangular sectors, alternately of different hands and of different tints—purple and white. To the twinning is due the rippled fracture and the feathery inclusions so characteristic of amethyst. Besides its use for ornamental purposes, quartz finds a place as the material for lenses intended for delicate photographic work, because its transparency to the ultra-violet light is so much greater than that of glass. Spectacle lenses made of it are in demand, because they are not liable to scratches, and retain, therefore, their polish indefinitely. When fused in the oxyhydrogen flame, quartz becomes a silica glass, of specific gravity 2.2 and hardness 5 on Mohs’s scale. which has proved of great service for laboratory ware, because it withstands sudden and unequal heating without any danger of fracture; it has also in fine threads been invaluable for delicate torsion work, because it acquires not the smallest amount of permanent twist, in this respect being superior to the finest silk threads. Clear rock-crystal fetches little more than the cost of the cutting; citrine and amethyst are worth from 1s. to 5s. a carat, depending upon the quality and size of the stone; smoky-quartz is practically valueless; rose-quartz realizes less than Is. a carat; and the value of cat’s-eye is also small—only Is. to 2s. 6d. a carat. Tiger’s-eye at one time commanded as much as 25s. a carat, but the supply exceeded the demand, with the consequent collapse in the price. Beautiful, brilliant, and limpid rock-crystal is tound in various parts of the world: in the Swiss Alps, at Bourg d’Oisans in the Dauphiné Alps. France, in the famous Carrara marble, in the Marmaros Comitat of Hungary, and in the United States, Brazil, Madagascar, and Japan. Smal lustrous stones, known in their localities as ‘Isle of Wight,’ ‘Cornish,’ or ‘Bristol diamonds,’ are found in our own country. Brazil supplies stones out of which have been cut the clear balls used in crystal-gazing. The finest amethysts come from Brazil—especially the State of Rio Grande do Sul—and from Uruguay, India, and the gemgravels of Ceylon; good stones also occur at Ekaterinburg, in the Ural Mountains. A splendid Brazilian amethyst, weighing 334 carats, and two Russian stones—one hexagonal in contour, weighing 88 carats, and the other, a deep purple in colour with a circular table, weighing 73 carats—are exhibited in the British Museum (Natural History). Cairngorm is known from the place of that name in Banffshire, Scotland, whence fine specimens have emanated; it is a gem much valued in that country. Fine cairngorm has also originated from Pike’s Peak, Colorado. Splendid yellow stones have had their birth in the States of Minas Geraes, São Paulo, and Goyaz, of Brazil—especially in the last. The fine Spanish smoky-quartz, which, as already stated, turns yellow on heating, comes from Hinojosa, in the Province of Cordova. The delicate rose-quartz is known at Bodenmais in Bavaria, Paris in Maine, United States, and Ekaterinburg in the Ural Mountains. The finest cat’s-eyes are found in India and Ceylon, and are high in favour with the natives. Greenish stones of an inferior quality are brought from the Fichtelgebirge in Bavaria, and are sold as ‘Hungarian cat’s-eyes,’ despite the fact that no such stone occurs in Hungary—another instance of jewellers’ disdain for accuracy. Tiger’s-eye occurs in considerable quantity in the neighbourhood of Griquatown, Griqualand West, South Africa. A silicified crocidolite, in which the blue colour is retained, comes also from Salzburg, and is known as sapphire- or azure-quartz, or siderite. Certain of the pebbles found on the seashore of our coasts, especially off the Isle of Wight and North Wales, cut into attractive, clear stones, more or less yellow in colour; but examples suitable for the purpose are not so numerous as might be supposed, and do not reward any casual search. Les afaires sont les affaires. The local lapidary. instead of explaining that the pebbles brought to him are not worth cutting, finds it more convenient and profitable to substitute for them other, inferior and badly cut, stones, bought by the gross, or even paste stones; the customer, on the other hand, is contented with a pretty bauble, and is not grateful for the information that it might have been obtained for a fraction of the sum paid.
CHAPTER XXIX
CHALCEDONY, AGATE, ETC.
Chalcedony and agate, and their endless varieties, are composed mainly of silica, but the separate individual crystals are so small as to be invisible to the unaided eyesight, and occasionally are so extremely minute that the structure is almost amorphous. The colour and appearance vary greatly, depending upon the impurities contained in the stone, and, since both have been made a criterion for differentiation of types, a host of names have come into use, none of which are susceptible of strict definition. On the whole, these stones may be divided into- two groups: chalcedony, in which the structure is concretionary and the colour comparatively uniform, and agate, in which the arrangement takes the form of bands, varying greatly in tint and colour. The refraction, though double in the individual, is irregular over the stone as a whole, and the indices approximate to 1.550. The specific gravity ranges from 2.62 to 2.64, depending upon the impurities present. The degree of hardness is about the same as that of quartz, namely, 7 on Mohs’s scale. All kinds are more or less porous, and stones of a dull colour are therefore artificially tinted after being worked. The term chalcedony, derived from χαλκηδών, the name of a town in Asia Minor, is usually confined to stones of a greyish tinge. Stones artificially coloured an emerald green have been cut and put upon the market as ‘emeraldine.’ Carnelian is a clear red chalcedony, and sard is somewhat similar, but brownish in tint. Chrysoprase is applegreen in colour, nickel oxide being supposed to be the agent. Prase (cf. p. 240), which is a dull leek green in hue, may also in part be referred here; the name comes from ϖράσμον, a leek. Plasma. which may have the same derivation, is a brighter leek-green. Jasper is a chalcedony coloured bloodred by iron oxide, while bloodstone is a green chalcedony spotted with jasper; they are popular stones for signet rings. Flint, an opaque chalcedony, breaks with a sharp cutting edge, and was much in request with early man as a tool or a weapon; its property of giving sparks when struck with steel rendered it invaluable before the invention of matches. Hornstone is somewhat similar, but more brittle, while chert is a flinty rock. Agate, named after the river Achates in Sicily. where it was found at the time of Theophrastus, has a peculiar banded structure, the bands being usually irregular in shape, following the configuration of the cavity in which it was formed. Mossagate, or mocha-stone, contains moss-like inclusions of some fibrous mineral. Onyx is an agate with regular bands, the layers having sharply different colours; when black and white, it has, in days gone by, been employed for cameos. Sardonyx is similar in structure, but red and white in colour. Agate is used in delicate balances for supporting the steel knife-edges of the balance itself and of the pan holders, and is largely employed—especially when artificially coloured—for umbrella handles and similar articles. Chalcedony and agate are found the whole world over, but India, and particularly Brazil, are noted for their fine carnelians and agates.
CHAPTER XXX
OPAL
(White Opal, Black Opal, Fire-Obal)
That opal in early times excited keen admiration is evident from Pliny’s enthusiastic description of these stones: “For in them you shall see the burning fire of the carbuncle, the glorious purple of the amethyst, the green sea of the emerald, all glittering together in an incredible mixture of light.” During much of last century. owing to the foolish superstition that ill-luck dogs the footsteps of the wearer, the species lay under a cloud, which has even now not quite dispersed, but exercises a prejudicial effect upon the fortunes of the stone. It has, however, recently attracted considerable attention owing to the discovery of the splendid black opals in Australia; at one moment black with the darkness of night, at the next by a chance movement glowing with vivid crimson flame, such stones may justly be considered the most remarkable in modern jewellery. At the present day opal is divided by jewellers roughly into two main groups: ‘white’ (Plate XXVII, Fig. 6 and ‘ black’ (Plate XXVII, Fig. 9), according as the tint is light or dark, fire-opal (Plate XXVII, Fig. 10) standing in a separate category. Opal differs from the rest of the principal gemstones in being not a crystalline body, but a solidified jelly, and it depends for its attractiveness upon the characteristic play of colour, known, in consequence, as opalescence (cf. p. 39), which arises from a peculiarity in the structure. Opal is mainly silica, SiO2, in composition, but contains in addition an amount of water varying in precious opal from 6 to 10 per cent. As the original jelly cooled, it became riddled throughout with cracks, which were afterwards generally filled with opal matter, containing a different amount of water, and therefore differing slightly in refractivity from the original substance. The structure not being quite homogeneous, each crack has the same action upon light as a soap-film, and gives rise to precisely similar phenomena; the thinner and more uniform the cracks, the greater the splendour of the chromatic display, the particular tint depending upon the direction in which the stone is viewed. The cracks in certain opals were not filled up, and therefore contain air. Such stones appear opaque and devoid of opalescence until plunged into water; they are consequently known as hydrophane, from o, water, and gaigbai, to make appear. Owing to the effect of total-reflection, light was stopped on the hither side of the cracks before they were filled with water. which is not far inferior to opal in refractivity; it is surprising how much water these stones will absorb. Opal is colourless when pure, but is nearly always more or less milky and opaque, or tinted various dull shades by ferric oxide, magnesia or, alumina. The so-called black opal is generally a dark grey or blue, and very rarely quite black. That the coloration is not due to ordinary absorption, but to the action of cracks in the stone, is shown by the fact that the transmitted light is complementary to the reflected light; the blue opal is, for instance, a yellow when held up so that light has passed through it. In many black opals the opalescent material occurs in far too tiny pieces to be cut separately, and the whole iron-stained matrix is cut and polished and sold under the name ‘opal-matrix.’ The reddish and orange-coloured stones known as fire-opal have pronounced colour and only slight milkiness; they display the customary opalescence in certain directions. These stones are often faceted, but otherwise opals are cut en cabochon, either flat or steep—generally the former in brooches and pendants, and the latter in rings. Opal is somewhat soft, varying from 5 to 61/2 on Mohs’s scale, and is therefore easily scratched. The specific gravity ranges from 2.10 to 2.20, and the refractive index from 1.444 to 1.464, the refraction, of course, being always single. It is unwise to immerse opals in liquids on account of their porosity. The name opal comes to us through the Latin opallus, which was used for the same species as understood by the term at the present day, but the word has a far older origin, which has not been traced. The Romans also called the mineral pæderos, the Greek form of Cupid, a name applied to all rosy stones. The name cacholong, for the bluish-white procelain variety, which is very porous and adheres to the tongue, is of Tartar origin; the stone is highly valued in the East. The oldest mines, which up to quite a recent date were the only extensive deposit of opal known. were at Cserwenitsa, near Kashau, in Hungary. From them in all probability emanated the opals known to the Romans. The opals from this locality were generally quite small, and large pieces were rare and commanded high prices. The Hungary mines, however, proved quite unable to compete with the rich fields at White Cliffs, New South Wales, in spite of the efforts that were made to depreciate and exclude from the market the new stones, and at the present time few of the opals on the market come from them. As so often happens, the White Cliffs deposit was discovered by accident. In 1889 a hunter, when tracking a wounded kangaroo, chanced to pick up an attractively coloured opal. The district is so waterless and forbidding that, but for such a chance, the opals might have long lain hidden. They occur in seams in deposits of Cretaceous Age in a variety of ways, filling cavities in rocks or sandstones, or cracks in wood. or replacing wood, saurian bones, and some spiky mineral, which may have been glauberite. In recent years, another rich deposit was discovered farther north, on both sides of the boundary between Queensland and New South Wales. The field is remarkable for the darkness of its opals, which are called ‘black opal’ in contradistinction to the lighter-coloured stones previously known. From Lightning Ridge in New South Wales come stones stained deep black which quite merit the designation black opal. The sandstone in which they are found is rich in iron, and this is no doubt responsible for the deepness of their tint. Mexico is noted for the fire-opal, which is found at Esperanza. Queretaro, and Zimapan; but other kinds of opal also are found at these places, The price of opal varies greatly, according to the intrinsic colour and the uniformity and brilliance of the opalescence. Common opal can be bought at as low a rate as 1s. a carat, while black opal ranges from 10s. to £8 a carat; but a good dark stone displaying a flaming opalescence commands a fancy figure, fine stones of this class being exceedingly rare. Fire-opal enjoys only a limited popularity now, though a few years ago it was in some demand; the price runs from 2s. to 10s. a carat.
CHAPTER XXXI
FELSPAR
(Moonstone, Sunstone, Labradorite, Amazon-Stone)
Though second to none among minerals in scientific interest, whether regarded from the point of view of their crystalline characters or the important part they play in the formation of rocks, the group included under the general name felspar occupies but a humble place in jewellery. It consists of three distinct species, orthoclase, albite, and anorthite, which are silicates of aluminium, and potassium, sodium, or calcium, corresponding to the formulæ KAlSi3O8, NaAlSi3O8, and CaAl2Si2O8 respectively, and also of species intermediate in composition between albite and orthoclase, or albite and anorthite. While differing in crystalline symmetry, all are characterized by two directions of cleavage which are nearly at right angles to one another. The double refraction, which is slight in amount, is biaxial in character and variable in sign. The values of the least and greatest of the indices of refraction range between 1.52 and 1.53, and 1.53 and 1.55 respectively, the double refraction at the same time varying from 0.007 to 0.012. The specific gravity lies between 2.48 and 2.66, and the hardness ranges between the degrees 6 and 7 on Mohs’s scale. Moonstone (Plate XXIX, Fig. 4), which is mainly pure orthoclase, alone is at all common in jewellery. It forms such an admirable contrasting frame for large coloured stones that it deserves greater popularity; no doubt the cheapness of the stones militates against their proper appreciation. The milky, bluish opalescence from which they take their name is caused by the reflection of light at the thin twin-lamellæ of which the structure is composed. They are always cut more or less steeply en cabochon. The finest stones were at one time cut from the felspar that came from the St. Gothard district in Switzerland and was in consequence known as adularia from the neighbouring Adular Mountains, somewhat incorrectly, since none occurs at the latter locality. At the present day practically all the moonstones on the market come from Ceylon. They run in price from £3 to £20 per oz. (28 grams). Sunstone is a felspar containing flakes of hematite or goethite which impart a spangled bronze appearance to the stones. Good material occurs in parts of Norway. The remarkable sheen of labradorite or blue felspar has its origin in the interference of light at lamellar surfaces in the interior; the uniformity of the colour over comparatively large areas testifies to the regularity of the lamellar arrangement. The finest specimens were brought from the Isle of St. Paul off the coast of Labrador, where they were first discovered in 1770; large masses also occur on the coast itself. Amazon-stone is an opaque green felspar which occurs in the Ilmen Mountains, Orenburg, Russia, and at Pike’s Peak, Colorado, United States. It obtains its name from the Amazon River, where, however, none has ever been found; there may have been some confusion with a jade or similar stone. Occasionally clear colourless felspar has been faceted, and then closely resembles rock-crystal. A careful determination of the refractive indices and the specific gravity serves to discriminate between them.

CHAPTER XXXII
TURQUOISE, ODONTOLITE, VARISCITE
Of all the opaque stones turquoise (Plate XXIX Fig. 17) alone finds a prominent place in jewellery and can aspire to rank with the precious stones. The colour varies from a sky-blue or a greenish blue to a yellowish green or apple-green. Only the former tints, which are at the same time the rarer, are in general demand, and they posses the great advantage of harmonizing with the tint of the gold setting. The blue colours are, especially in the case of the Siberian stones, by no means permanent, and fade in course of time. Turquoise is amorphous and seldom crystalline, and is therefore somewhat porous; it should consequently never be immersed in liquids or be contaminated with greasy and dirty matter lest the dreaded change of colour be brought about. The stones are translucent in thin sections, and a good observation is possible with the refractometer if the back of the stone is flat and polished, since only the section immediately adjacent to the instrument is concerned: the refractive index is about 1.61. The specific gravity varies from 2.75 to 2.89. Turquoise has a hardness of slightly under 6 on Mohss scale, and takes a good polish, which is fairly durable, since on account of the comparative opacity of the stones scratches on the surface are not very noticeable. In composition it is a complex phosphate of aluminium and copper, corresponding to the formula CuOH.[6AI(OH)2].H5.(PO4)4, with ferric oxide replacing some alumina. The blue colour is due to the copper constituent, and the predominance of iron may cause the greenish shades; but the water contained in the stones plays no mean part, since they turn a dirty green when it is driven off. The faded colour can sometimes be restored by immersion of the stone in ammonia and subsequent application of grease, but the effect is not lasting. Attempts are sometimes made to improve inferior stones by impregnating them with Berlin blue, but with only qualified success. Turquoises are said to be affected by the perspiration from the skin. The name of the species comes from a French word meaning Turkish, and arises from the fact that the gem-stone first reached Europe by way of Turkey. Another, but less obvious, suggestion is that it is derived from the Persian name for the species, piruzeh. Our turquoise and other phosphates of similar appearance were probably known to Pliny under the three names callais, callaina, and callaica. The finest turquoise still comes from the famous mines near Nishapur in the Persian province of Khorassan, where it was known in very ancient times; it is found with limonite filling the cracks and cavities in a brecciated porphyritic trachyte. Pieces of the turquoise and limonite from hère are sometimes cut without removal of the latter, and sold as ‘turquoise-matrix,’ when the precious stones are too tiny to be worth separate working. It also occurs at Serbâl in the Sinai Peninsula. Among the more recent localities may be mentioned Los Cerillos Mountains, New Mexico; Sierra Nevada, Nevada, where pale blue and green stones are lound; San Bernardino County, California, where again the stones are rather pale; and Arisona. where it occurs in pale greenish-blue stones. Some of the stones that have been seen are not the true turquoise but odontolite, or bone turquoise which consists of the teth and bones of mastodon or other extinct animals, phosphate of iron beinthe colouring material. These stones may easih be recognized by their organic structure, which is clearly visible if viewed with a strong lens or under the microscope. Moreover, odontolite invariably contains some calcium carbonate, and effervescence takes place if it be touched with hydrochloric acid. Turquoise dissolves in hydrochloric acid, but without effervesence, and since it contains copper. a hine blue colour is imparted to the solution by the addition of ammonia. Odontolite has a higher specisc gravity, 3.0 to 3.5, but lower hardnes 5 on Mohs’s scale. Variscite, the hydrated phosphate of aluminium. corresponding to the formula AlPO4+2H2O, is sound in masses resembling a greenish turquoise, but it is much softer, being only 4 on Mohss scale. The specinie gravity is 2.55. Round nodular masses of variscite are found in Utah.
CHAPTER XXXIII
JADE
Though not usually accounted precious among European nations or in Western civilization in general, jade was held in extraordinary esteem by primitive man, and was fashioned by him into ornaments and utensils, often of considerable beauty, and even at the present day it ranks among the Chinese and Japanese peoples above all precious stones; indeed, the Chinese word Yu and the Japanese words Giyuku or Tama signify both jade and precious stones in general, According to the Chinese, jade is the prototype of all gems, and unites in itself the five cardinal virtuesJin, charity; Gi, modesty; Yu, courage; Ketsu, justice; and Chi, wisdom. When powdered and mixed with water, it is supposed to be a powerful remedy for all kinds of internal disorders, to strengthen the frame and prevent fatigue, to prolong life, and, if taken in sufficient quantity just before death, to prevent decomposition. Jade is a general term that includes properly two distinct mineral species, nephrite or greenstone, and jadeite, which are very similar in appearance, both being fibrous and tough in texture, and more or less greenish in colour; but it is also applied to other species such as saussurite, californite, bowenite, and plasma, which have somewhat similat characters. The word jade is a corruption of the Spanish pietra di hijada, kidney-stone, in allusion to its supposed efficacy in diseases of that organ. Nephrite or greenstone (Plate XXIX, Fig. 16) is the commoner of the two jades. It is closely allied to the mineral hornblende, a silicate of magnesium, iron, and calcium corresponding to the formula Ca(Mg,Fe)3(SiO3)4 the magnesia being replaceable by ferrous oxide. Microscopic examination shows that the structure consists of innumerable independent fibres foliated or matted together, the former character giving rise to a slaty and the latter to a horny appearance in the stone as seen by the unaided eye. The colour varies from grey to leaf- and dark-green, the tint deepening as the relative amount of iron in the composition increases and brown tints result from the oxidation of the iron along cracks in the stone. The hardness is 64 on Mohss scale; nephrite is therefore about as hard as ordinary glass and softer than quartz. When polished, it always acquires a greasy lustre. The specific gravity ranges from 2.9 to 3.1. The least and greatest of the principal refractive indices are 1.606 and 1.632 respectively, the double refraction being biaxial and negative; the coloured fibres also display dichroism. All these differential effects are, however, masked in the stone because of the irregularity of the aggregation. Nephrite is fusible before the blowpipe, but only with difficulty. Its name is derived from the Greek word νεφρός, kidney, the allusion being the same as for jade. Many of the prehistoric implements found in Mexico and in the Swiss Lake Habitations are composed of nephrite, but it is uncertain where the mineral was obtained. Much of the material used by the Chinese at the present time comes from spots near the southern boundary of Eastern Turkestan, especially in the valleys of the rivers Karakash and Yarkand in the Kwen Lun range of mountains; it is also found farther north at the river Kashgar. It occurs in various provinces of China, namely, Shensi, Kwei Chau, Kwang Tung, Yunnan, and Manchuria. Gigantic waterworn boulders have been found in the Government of Irkutsk, near Lake Baikal, in eastern Siberia, the first discovery being made in the bed of the Onot stream by the explorer and prospector J. P. Alibert, in 1850. A large boulder of this kind, weighing over half a ton (1156 lb., or 524.5 kg.), is exhibited in the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History). An enormous mass, weighing over 2 tons (4718 lb., or 2140 kg.), was discovered at Jordansmühl, Silesia, by Dr. G. F. Kunz, and is now in the magnificent collection of jade formed by Mr. Heber R. Bishop. Beautiful greenstone occurs in New Zealand, particularly in the Middle Island. The Maoris have long used it for various useful and ornamental purposes, the most common being indicated by their general name for the species, punamu, axe-stone; kawakawa is the ordinary green variety, a fine section of which is shown on the wall of the Mineral Gallery of the British Museum (Natural History), while inanga, a grey variety, and kahurangi, a pale-green and translucent variety, are rare and highly prized. Jadeite (Plate XXIX, Fig. 18) is by far the rarer of the two jades, and is the choicest gem with the Chinese. In composition it is a silicate of sodium and aluminium with the formula NaAl(SiO3)2, corresponding to the lithium mineral spodumene (p. 265) It has the same toughness and greasy lustre as nephrite, but is harder, being represented by the symbol 7 on Mohs’s scale, and thus only slightly. if at all, softer than quartz. The other characters are also higher; the specific gravity is about 3.34. and the least and greatest of the principal refractive indices are 1.66 and 1.68, the double refraction being biaxial and negative. The colour varies from white to almost an emerald green, the latter being especially prized, and often the green colour runs in streaks through the white. Jadeite fuses readily before the blowpipe to blebby glass, more easily than is the case with nephrite. The finest jadeite comes from the Mogaung district in Upper Burma, where it is found in boulders and also with albite in dykes in a dark green serpentine. The export trade to China, which absorbs practically the whole of the output, is exceedingly valuable, and realizes nearly as much as the produce of the ruby mines. Jadeite is also found in the Shensi and Yunnan provinces of China. and in Tibet. A few words may be said about the other jadelike minerals. Saussurite, which is named after H. B. de Saussure, has resulted from the decomposition of a felspar, and is nearly akin to the mineral zoisite. It has the customary toughness of structure. and is greenish grey to white in colour. Its specific gravity is about 3.2, and hardness 61/2 to 7 on Mohs’s scale. It occurs near Lake Geneva. Bowenite is a green serpentine (p. 289) which is found at Smithfield, Rhode Island, U.S.A., and in New Zealand and Afghanistan. Californite and plasma are compact varieties of idocrase (p. 275) and chalcedony (p. 247) respectively. Verdite is a stone of rich green colour which is found in the form of large boulders in the North Kaap River, South Africa; it is composed of green mica (fuchsite) and some clayey matter. jade has of recent years been imitated in glass, but the latter is recognizable by its vitreous lustre and inferior hardness, and sooner or later by its frangibility.
CHAPTER XXXIV
SPODUMENE, IOLITE, BENITOITE
SPODUMENE
(Kunzite, Hiddenite)
Till few years ago scarcely known outside the ranks of mineralogists, spodumene suddenly leaped into notice in 1903 upon the discovery of the lovely lilac-coloured stones (Plate XXIX, Fig. 10) at Pala, San Diego County, California; they shortly afterwards received the name kunzite after the well-known expert in gems, Dr. G. F. Kunz. The stones were found here in a peg matite dyke, and were of all shades, ranging from pale pink to deep lilac, and at times as much as 150 carats in weight. Paler kunzite occurs with beryl and tourmaline at Coahuila Mountain in Riverside County, California, and colourless stones have recently come to light in Madagascar. Kunzite is remarkable for its wonderful dichroism; the beautiful violet tint that springs out in one direction comes with greater surprise because of the uninteresting yellowish tints in other directions. Unlike spodumene in general, kunzite is phosphorescent under the influence of radium. The emerald-green variety (Plate XXIX, Fig. 11), named hiddenite after Mr. W. E. Hidden, who discovered in 1881 the only known occurrence, in Alexander County, North Carolina, would no doubt have become popular had the supply of material not been so very limited; few stones were found, and the variety has never come to light elsewhere. The colour is supposed to be due to chromic acid. Hiddenite being also dichroic, the tint varies with the direction. Spodumene is ordinarily rather a pale yellowish in hue, and, as its name (which is derived from σϖοδίος, ash-coloured) suggests, is not very attractive. Clear, lemon-yellow stones (Plate XXIX, Fig. 9) are found in Brazil and Madagascar. The species is interesting scientifically because it contains the rare element lithium; it is a silicate of aluminium and lithium, corresponding to the formula LiAl(SiO3)2. The double refraction is biaxial in character and positive in sign, the least and greatest of the refractive indices being 1.660 and 1.675; the specific gravity is 3.185, and hardness 61/2 to 7 on Mohs’s scale. Spodumene has an easy cleavage, and the cut stones call therefore for careful handling. lest they be flawed or fractured. Two faceted stones, a beautiful kunzite and a fine hiddenite. weighing 60 and 21/2 carats respectively, are exhibited in the British Museum (Natural History).
IOLITE
Known also by various other names—cordierite, dichroite, and water-sapphire (saphire d’eau)-this species owes its interest to the remarkable dichroism characterizing it, the principal colours—smoky-blue and yellowish white—being in such contrast as to be obvious to the unaided eye. The stones that are usually worked have intrinsically a smoky-blue colour, and are found in waterworn masses in the river-gravels of Ceylon, whence is the origin of the name water-sapphire. Iolite, from ίον, violet, and λίθος, stone, refers to the colour; cordierite is named after Cordier, a French geologist, who first studied the crystallography of the species; and dichroite, of course, alludes to the most prominent character of the species. lolite is a silicate of aluminium and of magnesium and iron corresponding to the formula H2(Mg,Fe)4Al8Si10O37. The double refraction is small in amount, biaxial in character, and negative in sign, the least and greatest of the refractive indices being 1.543 and 1.551; the specific gravity is 2.63, and hardness 7 on Mohs’s scale. Iolite, if used, is worked and polished; it is seldom faceted. A large worked piece, weighing 177 grams, which was formerly in the Hawkins Collection, is exhibited in the British Museum (Natural History).
BENITOITE
The babe among gem-stones, benitoite first saw the light of day a few years ago, early in 1907. It occurs with the rare mineral neptunite, which was previously known only from Greenland, in narrow veins of natrolite in Diablo Range near the headwaters of the San Benito River, San Benito County, California. Despite careful search the species has not been found except within the original restricted area. To science it is interesting both because of its composition, a silico-titanate of barium, corresponding to the formula BaTiSi3O9, and because its crystals belong to a class of crystalline symmetry which has hitherto not been represented among minerals. The double refraction is uniaxial, and since the ordinary index of refraction is 1.757 and the extraordinary 1.804, it is positive in sign and large in amount, namely, 0.047. The stones are characterized by strong dichroism, the colour corresponding to the ordinary ray being white, and to the extraordinary greenish blue to indigo depending upon the tint of the stone. To obtain the best effect the stone must therefore be cut with the tablefacet parallel to the crystallographic axis. The specific gravity is 3.65, and hardness 61/2 on Mohs’s scale. When first discovered the species was supposed to be sapphire, and many stones were cut and sold as such. It is, however, much softer than sapphire, and is readily distinguished by its optical characters, since it possesses greater double refraction and of differing sign, so that, when tested with the refractometer, the shadow-edge corresponding to the lower index of refraction remains fixed in the case of of benitoite, whereas the contrary happens with sapphire. Benitoite also, unlike sapphire, fuses easily to a transparent glass. Its blue colour. which is supposed to be due to a small amount of free titanic acid present, appears to be stable. Several stones as large as 11/2 to 2 carats in weight have been found. The largest of all, perfectly flawless, weighs just over 7 carats, and is remarkable because it is about three times the next largest in point of weight; it is the property of Mr. G. Eacret. of San Francisco.
CHAPTER XXXV
EUCLASE, PHENAKITE, BERYLLONITE EUCLASE
This species comes near beryl in chemical composition, being a silicate of aluminium and beryllium corresponding to the formula Be(AlOH)SiO4, and closely resembles aquamarine in colour and appearance when cut. Owing to the rarity of the mineral good specimens command high prices for museum collections, and it is seldom worth while cutting it for jewellery. It derives its name from its easy cleavage, έν easily, and κλάσις fracture. The double refraction is biaxial in character and positive in sign, the least and greatest of the refractive indices being 1.651 and 1.670 respectively; the specific gravity is 3.07, and the hardness 71/2 on Mohs’s scale. The colour is usually a sea-green, but sometimes blue. Euclase occurs with topaz at the rich mineral district of Minas Novas, Minas Geraes, Brazil, and has also been found in the Ural district, Russia.
PHENAKITE
Another beryllium mineral, phenakite owes its name to the frequency with which it has been mistaken for quartz, being derived from φέναξ, deceiver. The clear, colourless crystals, somewhat complex in form, have at times been cut, but they lack ‘fire,’ and despite their brilliant lustre meet with little demand. The composition is a silicate of beryllium corresponding to the formula Be2SiO4, The double refraction is uniaxial, and since the ordinary, 1.652, is less than the extraordinary index. 1.667, it is positive in sign; the specific gravity is 2.99, and the hardness is almost equal to that of topaz, being about 71/2 to 8 on Mohs’s scale. Fine stones have long been known near Ekaterinburg in the Ural Mountains, and have recently been discovered in Brazil.
BERYLLONITE
As its name suggests, this mineral also contains beryllium, being a soda phosphate corresponding to the formula NaBePO4. Clear, colourless stones, which occur at Stoneham, Maine, U.S.A., have been cut, but the lack of ‘fire,’ the easy cleavage, and comparative softness, the symbol being 51/2 on Mohs’s scale, unfit it for use in jewellery. The double refraction is biaxial in character and negative in sign. the least and the greatest of the refractive indices being 1.553 and 1.565 respectively.
CHAPTER XXXVI
ENSTATITE, DIOPSIDE, KYANITE, ANDALUSTTE. IDOCRASE, EPIDOTE, SPHENE, AXINITE. PREHNITE, APATITE, DIOPTASE
ENSTATITE
(Green Garnet)
The small green stones which accompany the diamond in South Africa have been cut and put on the market as ‘green garnet.’ They are, however, in no way connected with garnet, but belong to a mineral species called enstatite, which is a silicate of magnesium corresponding to the formula MgSiO3; the green colour is due to a small amount of ferrous oxide which replaces magnesia. The double refraction is biaxial in character and positive in sign, the least and greatest of the refractive indices being 1.665 and 1.674 respectively; the specific gravity ranges from 3.10 to 3.13, and the hardness is only about 51/2 on Mohs’s scale. The dichroism is perceptible, the twin-colours being yellowish and green, and, as usual, is more pronounced the deeper the colour of the stone. There is also a good cleavage in two different directions, With increasing percentage amount of iron enstatite passes into hypersthene. The colour becomes a dark brownish green, and an increase takes place in the physical constants, the least and greatest of the refractive indices attaining to 1.602 and 1.705 respectively, and the specific gravity ranging from 3.4 to 3.5. Hypersthene is never sufficiently transparent for faceting, but when spangled with small scales of brookite it is sometimes cut en cabochon, The name enstatite is derived from ένστάτης, an opponent, referring to the infusibility of the mineral before the blowpipe, and hypersthene comes from ύϖερσθένος, very tough. An altered enstatite, leek-green in colour and with nearly the composition of serpentine (p. 289). has been cut en cabochon. It has much lower specific gravity, only 2.6, and lower hardness, 31/2 to 4 on Mohs’s scale. It is named bastite from Baste in the Harz Mountains, where it was first discovered.
DIOPSIDE
This species, which is also known as malacolite and alalite, provides stones of a leaf-green colour which have occasionally been cut. It is a silicate of calcium and magnesium corresponding to the formula MgCa(SiO3)2, but usually contains in place of magnesia some ferrous oxide, to which it owes its colour; with increase in the percentage amount of fron the colour deepens and the physical constants change. The double refraction is large in amount, 0.028, biaxial in character, and positive in sign. The least and greatest of the refractive indices corresponding to the stones suitable for jewellery range about 1.671 and 1.699 respectively, but they may be as high as 1.732 and 1.750 in the two cases. The specific gravity varies from 3.20 to 3.38. and the hardness from 5 to 6 on Mohs’s scale. Dichroism is noticeable in deep-coloured stones, but is not very marked. The name diopside comes from δίς, double, and όψις, appearance, in allusion to the effect resulting from the double refraction; malacolite is derived from μαλακός, soft, because the mineral is softer than the felspar associated with it; and alalite is named after the principal locality, Ala Valley, Piedmont, Italy.
KYANITE
Kyanite, also known as disthene, is interesting for two reasons. Its structure is so grained in charactet that the hardness varies in the same stone from 5 to 7 on Mohs’s scale; it can therefore be scratched by a knife in some directions, but not in others (p. 79) It has the same chemical composition as andalusite. both being silicates of aluminium corresponding to the formula Al2SIO5, but possesses very different physical characters, a fact which shows how large a share the molecular grouping has in determining the aspect of crystallized substances. It is biaxial with small negative double refraction, the least and greatest of the refractive indices being 1.72 and 1.73 respectively; the specific gravity is 3.61. It occurs in sky-blue prismatic crystals, whitish at the edges, in schist near St. Gothard, Switzerland. It is seldom cut. Kyanite is derived from its colour, κύανος blue. and disthene, from its variable hardness, δίς, twice. and σθένος, strong.
ANDALUSITE
Andalusite bears no resemblance whatever to kyanite, although, as has been stated above, the composition of the two species is essentially the same. It is usually light bottle-green in colour, and more rarely brown and reddish. Its extreme dichroism is its most remarkable character, the twin colours being olive-green and red. The reddish gleams that are reflected from the interior are in sharp contrast with the general colour of the stone, and impart to it a weird effect (Plate XXIX, Fig. 15). Cut stones are often confused with tourmalines, and can, indeed, only be distinguished from the latter with certainty by noting on the refractometer the smaller amount of double refraction and the difference in its character. The least and greatest of the refractive indices are 1.632 and 1.643 respectively, and the double refraction, 0.011, about half that of tourmaline, is biaxial and negative; the specific gravity is 3.18, and hardness 71/2 on Mohs’s scale. Good stones are found at Minas Novas, Minas Geraes, Brazil, and in the gem-gravels of Ceylon. It was first known from the province of Andalusia, Spain, whence is the origin of its name.
IDOCRASE
(Vesuvianite, Californite)
Idocrase, also known as vesuvianite, is occasionally found in the form of transparent, leaf-green, and vellowish-brown stones which, when cut, may be mistaken for diopside and epidote respectively, but are distinguishable from both by the extreme smallness of their double refraction. Californite is a compact variety which has all the appearances of a jade; its colour is green, or nearly colourless with green streaks. In composition idocrase is a silicate of aluminium and calcium, the precise formula of which is uncertain, but may be (Ca,Mn,Mg,Fe)2[(Al,Fe)(OH,F)]Si2O7 . The double refraction, which is uniaxial in character and negative in sign, may be less than ooo1, and never exceeds 0.006, so that it is not easily detected with the refractometer, even in sodium light. The refractive indices vary enormously in value, from 1.702 to 1.726 for the ordinary, and from 1.706 to 1.732 for the extraordinary ray. The specific gravity varies from 3.35 to 3.45, and the hardness is about 61/2 on Mohs’s scale. The name idocrase, from είδος, form, and κράσις, mixture, was assigned to the species by Haüy. but his reasons have little meaning at the present day. The other names are taken from the localities where the species and the variety were first discovered. Bright, green crystals come from Russia, and also from Ala Valley, Piedmont, and Mount Vesuvius, Italy. Californite is found in large masses in Siskiyon and Fresno Counties, California.
EPIDOTE
(Pistacite)
Epidote often possesses a peculiar shade of yellowish green, similar to that of the pistachio-nut—hence the origin of its alternative name—which is unique among minerals, though scarcely pleasing enough to recommend it to general taste. Its ready cleavage renders it liable to flaws; nevertheless, it is occasionally faceted. The name epidote, from érriòogis, increase, was given to it by Hauy, but not on very precise crystallographical grounds. In composition this species is a silicate of calcium and aluminium, with some ferric oxide in place of alumina, corresponding to the complex formula, Ca2(Al,Fe)2[(Al,Fe)OH](SiO4)3. It occurs in monoclinic, prismatic crystals richly endowed, with natural faces. The colour deepens with increase in the percentage amount of iron, and the stones become almost opaque. The double refraction is large in amount, 0.031, biaxial in character, and negative in sign. The dichroism is conspicuous in transparent stones, the twin-tints corresponding to the principal optical directions being green, brown, and yellow. The values of the least and greatest of the refractive indices given by transparent stones are 1.735 and 1.766 respectively; the specific gravity varies from 3.25 to 3.50, and the hardness from 6 to 7 on Mohs’s scale. Transparent crystals have come from Knappenwand, Untersulzbachtal, Salzburg, Austria; Traversella, Piedmont, Italy; and Arendal, Nedenäs, Norway. Magnificent, but very dark, crystals were discovered about ten years ago on Prince of Wales Island, Alaska.
SPHENE
(Titanite)
The clear, green, yellow, or brownish stones provided by this species would be welcomed in jewellery because of their brilliant and almost adamantine lustre, but, unfortunately, they are too soft to withstand much wear, the hardness being only 51/2 on Mohs’s scale. In composition sphene is a silico-titanate of calcium corresponding to the formula CaTiSiO5, and in this respect comes near the recently discovered gem-stone, benitoite. The refractive indices lie outside the range of the refractometer, the values of the least and the greatest of the refractive indices varying from 1.888 and 1.917 to 1.914 and 2.053 respectively. It is to this high refraction that it owes its brilliant lustre. The double refraction, which is biaxial in character and positive in sign, is so large that the apparent doubling of the opposite edges of a cut stone when viewed through one of the faces is obvious to the unaided eye (cf. p. 41). Cut stones have additional interest on account of the vivid dichroism displayed, the twin-tints, colourless, yellow, and reddish yellow, corresponding to the three principal optical directions, being in strong contrast. The specific gravity ranges from 3.35 to 3.45. The negative test with the refractometer (cf. p. 26), the softness, and the large amount of double refraction suffice to distinguish this species from gem-stones of similar appearance. The name sphene, from σφήν, wedge, alludes to the shape of the natural crystals. The alternative name is obviously due to the fact that the species contains titanium. Good stones have come from the St. Gothard district, Switzerland.
AXINITE
Called axinite from the shape of its crystals άξίνη, axe—this species supplies small, clear, clovebrown, honey-yellow, and violet stones which can be cut for those who care for a stone out of the ordinary. The composition is a boro-silicate of aluminium and calcium, with varying amounts of iron and manganese, corresponding to the formula (Ca,Fe)3Al2(B.OH)Si4O15. Axinite is interesting on account of its strong dichroism, the twin-tints corresponding to the principal optical directions being violet, brown, and green. The double refraction is biaxial in character and negative in sign, the least and greatest of the refractive indices being 1.674 and 1.684; the specific gravity is 3.28, and hardness about 61/2 to 7, or rather under that of quartz. The best examples have been found at St. Cristophe, Bourg d’Oisans, in the Dauphiné, France. Violet axinite is a novelty that has come within recent years from Rosebery, Montagu County, Tasmania.
PREHNITE
This species, which is named after its discoverer, Colonel Prehn, is found in nodular, yellow and oil-green stones, of which the latter have very occasionally been cut. It is a little soft, the hardness being only 6 on Mohs’s scale. The double refraction is large in amount, 0.033, biaxial in character, and positive in sign, the least and the reatest of the refractive indices being 1.616 and 1.649 respectively; the specific gravity varies from 2.81 to 2.95. In composition prehnite is a silicate of aluminium and calcium corresponding to the formula H2Ca2Al2(SiO4)3. The best material has been found at St. Cristophe, Bourg d’Oisans, Dauphiné, France.
APATITE
This interesting mineral is found occasionally in attractive green, blue, or violet stones, but is unfortunately too soft for extensive use in jewellery the hardness being only 5 on Mohs’s scale. In composition it is a fluo – chloro – phosphate of calcium, corresponding to the formula Ca4[Ca(F,CI)](PO4)3. When pure, it is devoid of colour, the tints being due to the presence of small amounts of tinctorial agents. The double refraction is uniaxial in character and negative in sign, the ordinary index being 1.642 and the extraordinary 1.646; the specific gravity varies from 3.17 to 3.23. The dichroism is usually feeble, but sometimes is strong; for instance, in the stones from the Burma ruby mines (yellow, blue-green). A cut stone might be mistaken for tourmaline, but is distinguished by its softness, or, when tested on the refractometer, by its inferior double refraction. It received its name from άϖατάειν, deceive, because it was wrongly assigned to at least half a dozen different species in early days. Moroxite is a name sometimes given to blue-green apatite. Beautiful violet stones are found at Ehrenfriedersdorf, Saxony; Schlaggenwald, Bohemia; and Mount Apatite, Auburn, Androscoggin County, Maine, U.S.A.; and blue stones come from Ceylon.
DIOPTASE
Though of a pretty, emerald-green colour, dioptase has never been found in large enough crystals for gem purposes, and it is, moreover, rather soft, the hardness being only 5 on Mohss scale, and has an easy cleavage. In composition it is a hydrous silicate of copper corresponding to the formula CuH2SiO4, The double refraction, which is large in amount, is uniaxial in character, and positive in sign, the ordinary refractive index being 1.667 and the extraordinary 1.723. Its colour and softness distinguish it from peridot or diopside, which have about the same refractivity. The name was assigned to the species by Haüy. from διά, through, and όϖτομαι, see, because the cleavage directions were distinguishable by looking through the stone. Dioptase has been found near Altyn-Tübe in the Kirghese Steppes, at Rezbánya in Hungary. and Copiapo in Chili, and at the mine Mindouli, near Comba, in the French Congo.
CHAPTER XXXVII
CASSITERITE, ANATASE, PYRITES, HEMATITE
CASSITERITE
Though usually opaque, this oxide of tin, corresponding to the formula SnO2, has occasionally, but very rarely, been found in small. transparent, yellow and reddish stones suitable for cutting. The lustre is adamantine. The refraction is uniaxial in character and positive in sign, the ordinary index being 1.997 and extraordinary 2.093. The specific gravity is high. ranging from 6.8 to 7.1. The hardness is on the whole less than that of quartz, being about 6 to 7 on Mohs’s scale.
ANATASE
This mineral, which is one of the three crystallized forms of titanium oxide, TiO2, occurs often in small, brown, transparent stones which occasionally find their way into the market. The lustre is adamantine. The refraction is uniaxial in character and negative in sign, the extraordinary index being 2.493 and ordinary 2.554. The specific gravity varies from 3.82 to 3.95, and the hardness is about 51/2 to 6 on Mohs’s scale.
PYRITES, HEMATITE
These two metallic minerals were employed in ancient jewellery. The former, sulphide of iron, FeS2, is brass-yellow in colour, and has a specific gravity 5.2, and hardness 61/2 on Mohs’s scale. It is found, when fresh, in brilliant cubes. The latter, oxide of iron, Fe2O3, has a black metallic lustre, but, when powdered, is red in colour—a mode of distinguishing it from other minerals of similar appearance. Its specific gravity is 5.3, and hardness 61/2 on Mohs’s scale. In modern times it has been cut in spherical form to imitate black pearls, but can easily be recognized by its greater density and hardness. Hematite is used for signet stones, often with an intaglio engraving.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
OBSIDIAN, MOLDAVITE
Two forms of natural glass have been employed for ornamental purposes. Obsidian results from the solidification without crystallization of lava, and corresponds in composition to a granite. The structure is seldom clear and transparent, and usually contains inclusions or streaks. The colour is in the mass jet-black, but smoky in thin frag ments, and occasionally greenish. Its property of breaking with a keen cutting edge, in the same way as ordinary glass, rendered it of extreme utility to primitive man, who was ignorant of the artificial substance. The refraction is, of course. single, and the refractive index approximates to 1.50. The specific gravity varies from 2.3 to 2.5. The hardness is 5 on Mohs’s scale, the same as ordinary glass. Obsidian is obtained wherever there has been volcanic activity. Vast mines of great antiquity exist in the State of Hidalgo, Mexico. Moldavite, which differs in no respect from ordinary green bottle-glass, is of interest on account of its problematical origin. Its occurrence in various parts of Bohemia and Moravia cannot be explained as the result of volcanic agency. It may possibly be the product of old and forgotten glass factories which at one time existed on the site. Even meteorites have been suggested as the source. The physical characters are the same as those of ordinary glass: refraction single, index 1.51; specific gravity 2.50 and hardness 51/2 on Mohs’s scale. Moldavite also passes under the names of bottle-stone, or water-chrysolite. A natural glass of the same character has been found in water-worn fragments in Ceylon, and has been sold as peridot, which it resembles in colour, but is readily distinguished from it by its very different physical properties.
PART II—SECTION C
ORNAMENTAL STONES
CHAPTER XXXIX
FLUOR, LAPIS LAZULI, SODALITE, VIOLANE. RHODONITE, AZURITE, MALACHITE, THULITE, MARBLE, APOPHYLLITE, CHRY. SOCOLLA, STEATITE OR SOAPSTONE. MEERSCHAUM, SERPENTINE
Space will not permit of more than a few words concerning the more prominent of the numerous mineral species which are employed for ornamental purposes in articles of virtu or in architecture, but which for various reasons cannot take rank as gem-stones. Fluor, a beautiful mineral which is found in its greatest perfection in England, has enjoyed welldeserved popularity when worked into vases or other articles. The finest material, deep purple in colour. known as ‘Blue John,’ came from Derbyshire, but the supply is now exhausted. The crystallized examples, from Durham, Devonshire, and Cornwall. form some of the most attractive of museum specimens. The crystals take the shape of cubes, often twinned, and have an easy octahedral cleavage. The refraction is single, the index being 1.433. Fluor is noted for its property of appearing of differing colour by reflected and transmitted light, and the phenomenon is in consequence known as fluorescence. The specific gravity is 3.18, and the hardness 4 on Mohs’s scale. Owing to its low refraction and softness, fluor is not suitable for jewellery. Clear colourless material is in demand for particular lenses of microscope objectives. The lovely blue stone known as lapis lazuli has since the earliest times been applied to all kinds of decorative purposes, for mosaic and inlaid work and as the material for vases, boxes, and so on, and was the original sapphire of the ancients. When ground to powder it furnishes a fine blue paint, but it has now been entirely superseded for this purpose by an artificial product. Although to the eye so homogeneous and uniform in structure, lapis lazuli has been shown by microscopic examination to be composed of calcite coloured by three blue minerals in varying proportions. All three belong to the cubic class of symmetry, and are mainly soda aluminium silicates in composition; their hardness varies from 5 to 6 on Mohs’s scale. Lazurite, Na4(NaS3.Al)Al2Si3O12», has specific gravity varying from 2.38 to 2.45, and hardness about 5 to 51/2; haüynite, (Na2Ca)2(NaSO4,Al)Al2Si3O12, is about the same in specific gravity, 2.4 to 2.5, but slightly harder, 51/2 to 6; while sodalite, Na4(AICl)Al2Si3O12, is the lightest in density, 2.14 to 2.30, with hardness 51/2 to 6, and has a refractive index 1.483. By far the oldest mines are in the Badakshan district of Afghanistan, a few miles above Firgamu in the valley of the Kokcha, a branch of the Oxus, where ruby and spinel are found. It is also found at the southern end of Lake Baikal, Siberia, and in the Chilian Andes. Sodalite occurs in beautiful blue masses at Dungannon, Hastings County, Ontario, Canada, and at Litchfield, Maine, U.S.A. They make excellent polished stones. Violane, a massive, dark violet-blue diopside from San Marcel, Piedmont, Italy, also makes a handsome polished stone. Rhodonite, silicate of manganese, MnSiO3, possesses a fine red colour, and makes an attractive stone when cut and polished. It has very slight biaxial double refraction, the refractivity being about 1.73, the specific gravity is 3.6, and hardness 6. It is found in large masses near Ekaterinburg in the Oral Mountains, and is quarried as an ornamental stone. Both the copper carbonates, azurite or chessylite, and malachite, make effective polished stones. The latter is also worked into various ornamental objects: it occurs in fibrous masses, the grained character of which look well in the polished section. Its colour is a bright green, to which it owes its name, from μαλακή, mallows. Its composition is represented by the formula CuCO3.Cu(OH)2, and it is the more stable form, since azurite is frequently found altered to it. It has biaxial double refraction, and the indices are about 1.88; the specific gravity is 4.01. and hardness about 31/2 to 4 on Mohs’s scale. It is found in large masses at the copper mines of Nizhni Tagilsk in the Ural Mountains, where it is mined as an ornamental stone; it also accompanies the copper ores in many parts of the world, for instance Cuba, Chili, and Australia. Azurite, so called on account of its beautiful blue colour, is rarer, but, unlike malachite, is generally in the form of crystals. Beautiful specimens have come from Chessy, near Lyons, France, and Bisbee, Arizona, U.S.A. The composition corresponds to the formula 2CuCO3,Cu(OH)2. The specific gravity is 3.80, and hardness about 31/2 to 4. Chrysocolla occurs in blue and bluish-green earthy masses, with an enamel-like texture, which in some instances can be worked and polished. Being the result of the decomposition of copper ores, it varies considerably in hardness, ranging from 2 to 4 on Mohs’s scale. Its composition approaches to the formula CuSiO3.2H2O, but it invariably contains impurities. It is very light, the density being only about 2.2. Steatite, or soapstone, is a massive foliated silicate of magnesium corresponding to the formula H2Mg3Si4O12, which is one of the softest of mineral substances, representing the degree 1 on Mohs’s scale, but in massive pieces is harder owing to the intermixture of other substances with it. It has a peculiar greasy feeling to the touch, due to its softness. The specific gravity is about 2.75. The Chinese carve images out of the yellowish and brownish pieces. Meerschaum, a silicate of magnesium corresponding to the formula H4Mg2Si3O10, is familiar to every smoker as a material for pipe-bowls. It is very light, the specific gravity being only 2.0, and soft, the hardness being about 2 to 21/2 on Mohs’s scale. When found, it is pure white in colour, and answers to its name, a German word signifying seafoam. It comes from Asia Minor.
SERPENTINE
Serpentine has been largely used for decorative purposes, as well as for cameos and intaglios, and formed most of the famous ‘verde antique.’ Being the result of the decomposition of other silicates it varies enormously in appearance and characters, but the most attractive stones are a rich oil-green in colour and resemble jade. The composition approximates to the formula H4Mg3Si2O9, but it invariably contains other elements. The hardness varies from 21/2 to 4 on Mohs’s scale, according to the minerals contained in the stone; the specific gravity is about 2.60 and the refractivity 1.570. The beautiful rose-red stone, thulite, makes a handsome decorative stone. It has nearly the same composition as epidote (p. 275), and like it has strong dichroism, the principal colours being yellow. light rose, and deep rose. The colour is due to manganese. Its refractive index is about 1.70. specific gravity 3.12, and hardness 6 to 61/2 on Mohs’s scale; it possesses an easy cleavage. Fine specimens come from Telemark, Norway, and it is therefore called after the old name for Norway. Thule. Marble is a massive calcite, carbonate of lime. with the formula CaCO3. When pure it is white. but it is usually streaked with other substances which impart a pleasing variety to its appearance, It is always readily recognized by the immediate effervescence set up when touched with a drop of acid. Calcite is highly doubly refractive (cf. p. 40). the extraordinary index being 1.486, and ordinary 1.658, a difference of 0.172; the specific gravity is 2.71, and hardness 3 on Mohs’s scale. Lumachelle. or fire-marble, is a limestone containing shells from which a brilliant, fire-like chatoyancy is emitted when light is reflected at the proper angle. It sometimes resembles opal-matrix, but is easily distinguished by its lower hardness and by its effervescent action with acid. Choice specimens come from Bleiberg in Carinthia, and from Astrakhan. Apophyllite has not many characters to commend it, being at the best faintly pinkish in colour, and always imperfectly transparent. It is a hydrous silicate of potassium and calcium with the complex formula (H,K)2Ca(SiO3)2.H2O. Its refractivity is about 1.535, specific gravity 2.5, and hardness 41/2 on Mohs’s scale; it possesses an easy cleavage. It occurs in the form of tetragonal crystals at Andreasberg in the Harz Mountains, and in the Syhadree Mountains, Bombay, India
PART II—SECTION D
ORGANIC PRODUCTS
CHAPTER XL
PEARL, CORAL, AMBER
Although none of the substances considered in this chapter come within the strict definition of a stone, since they are directly the result of living agency, yet pearl at least cannot be denied the title of a gem. Both pearl and coral contain calcium carbonate in one or other of its crystallized forms, and both are gathered from the sea; but otherwise they have nothing in common. Amber is of vegetable origin, and is a very different substance.
PEARL
From that unrecorded day when some scantily clothed savage seeking for succulent food opened an oyster and found to his astonishment within its shell a delicate silvery pellet that shimmered in the light of a tropical sun, down to the present day, without intermission, pearl has held a place all its own in the rank of jewels. Though it be lacking in durability, its beauty cannot be disputed, and large examples, perfect in form and lustre, are sufficiently rare to tax the deepest purse. The substance composing the pearl is identical with the iridescent lining—mother-o’-pearl or nacre. as it is termed—of the shell. Tortured by the intrusion of some living thing, a boring parasite, a worm, or a small fish, or of a grain of sand or other inorganic substance, and without means to free itself, the mollusc perforce neutralizes the irritant matter by converting it into an object of beauty that eventually finds its way into some jewellery cabinet. Built up in a haphazard manner and not confined by the inexorable laws of intermolecular action, a pearl may assume any and every variety of shape from the regular to the fantastic. It may be truly spherical, egg- or pear-shaped—pear-drops or pear-eyes, as they are termed—or it may be quite irregular—the so-called baroque or barrok pearls. The first is the most prized, but a wellshaped drop-pearl is in great demand for pendants or ear-rings. Thé colour is ordinarily white, or faintly tinged yellowish or bluish, and somewhat rarely, salmon-pink, reddish, or blackish grey, Perfect black pearls are valuable, but not as costly as the finest of the white. Though not transparent, pearl is to a varying extent translucent, and its characteristic lustre—‘orient’ in the language of jewellery—is due to the same kind of interaction of light reflected from different layers that has been remarked upon in the case of opal and certain other stones. The translucency varies in degree, and some jewellers speak of the ‘water’ of pearls just as in the case of diamonds. If a pearl be sliced across the middle and the section be examined under the microscope, it will be seen that the structure consists of concentric shells and resembles that of an onion. These shells are alternately composed of calcium carbonate in its crystallized form, aragonite, and of a horny organic matter known as conchiolin, and they evidently represent the result of intermittent growth. Because of their composite character. pearls have a specific gravity ranging from 265 to 2.69—2.84-2.89 in the case of pink pearls—which is appreciably less than that of aragonite. 2.94: the hardness is about the same, namely, 31/2 to 4 on Mohs’s scale. That the arrangement of the mineral layers is approximately parallel is evinced by the distinctness of the shadow-edges shown on examination with the refractometer. Pearls require very careful handling, both because they are comparatively soft and therefore apt to be scratched. and because they are chemically affected by acids and even by the perspiration from the skin. Acids attack only the calcium carbonate, not the organic matter; the well-known story therefore of Cleopatra dissolving a valuable pearl in vinegar, which is moreover, too weak an acid to effect the solution quickly, must not be accepted too literally. Pearls are not cut like stones, and therefore as soon as the precious bloom has once gone, nothing can be done to revive it. Attempts are sometimes made in the case of valuable pearls to remove the dull skin and lay bare another iridescent layer underneath, but the operation is exceedingly delicate. Even with the best of care pearls must in process of time perish owing to the decay of the organic constituent. Pearls that have been discovered in ancient tombs crumbled to dust at a touch, and those formerly in ancient rings have vanished or only remain as a brown powder, while the garnets or other stones set with them are little the worse for the centuries that have passed by. The largest known pearl was at one time in the famous collection belonging to the banker, Henry Philip Hope. Cylindrical in form, with a slight swelling at one end, it measures 50 mm. (2 inches) in length, and 115 mm. (41/2 inches) in circumference about the thicker, and 83 mm. (31/4 inches) about the thinner end, and weighs 454 carats. About threequarters of it is white in colour with a fine ‘orient.’ and the remainder is bronze in tint. It is valued at upwards of £12,000. A large pearl, 300 carats in weight, is in the imperial crown of the Emperor of Austria, and another, pear-shaped, is in the possession of the Shah of Persia. A beautiful white India pearl, a perfect sphere in shape, and 28 carats in weight, is in the Museum of Zosima in Moscow; it is known as ‘La Pellegrina.’ The ‘Great Southern Cross,’ which consists of nine large pearls naturally joined together in the shape of a cross, was discovered in an oyster fished up in 1886 off the beds of Western Australia. The collection of jewels in the famous Green Vaults at Dresden contains a number of pearls of curious shapes. Large pearls are sold separately, while the small pearls known as ‘seed’ pearls come into the market bored and strung on silk in ‘bunches.’ The unit of weight is the pearl grain, which is a quarter of a carat, and the rate of price depends on the square of the weight in grains. The rate per unit or base varies from 6d. to 50s. according to the shape and quality of the pearl. Spherical pearls command the best prices, next the pearl-drops, and lastly the buttons; but whatever the shape, it is imperative that the pearl have ‘orient,’ without which it is valueless. The cheaper grades of pearls are sold by the carat. For use in necklaces and pendants pearls are bored with a steel drill, and threaded with silk. an easy operation on account of their softness, They harmonize well with diamonds. Small pearls are often set as a frame to large coloured stones, to which they form an admirable foil. Pearls set in rings or anywhere where the upper half alone would show are generally sawn in halves; ‘button’ pearls find an extensive use in modern rings. Any mollusc, whether of the bi-valve or the univalve type, which possesses a nacreous shell, has the power of producing pearls, but only two, the pearloyster, Meleagrina margaritifera, and the pearlmussel, Unio margarifer, repay the cost of systematic fishing. The outside of the shell is formed of the horny matter called conchiolin; while the inside is composed of two coats, of which the outer consists of alternate layers of conchiolin and calcium carbonate in its crystallized form, calcite, and the inner of the same organic matter, but with calcium carbonate in its other crystallized form, aragonite, The latter coat forms the nacreous lining known as mother-o-pearl, which is identical in consistency with pearl, but somewhat more transparent. The iridescence of mother-o-pearl is due not only to the fact that it is composed of a succession of thin translucent layers, but also to the fact that these layers overlap like slates on a house, and form a series of fine parallel lines on the surface; diffraction therefore as well as interference of light takes place, and a similar diffraction phenomenon is dis played even by a cast of the inside of the shell. The animal has the property of secreting calcium carbonate, which it absorbs from the sea-water, in both its crystallized conditions as well as conchiolin. At the outer rim it secretes conchiolin, further in calcite, and at the very inside aragonite. The shape and appearance of a pearl therefore depend on the position in which the intruding substance is situated within the shell. The most perfect pearl has been in intermittent motion in the interior of the mollusc. and has received successive coats according to the position in which, it happened to be. A parasite that bores into the shell is walled up at the point of entrance, and a wart- or blister-pearl results. The thinner the successive coats the finer the lustre, Pearls have even been discovered embedded in the animal itself. The number of pearls found in a shell depends on the number of times the living host was compelled to seal up some irritant object. and may vary from one up to the eighty-seven which are said to have been found in an Indian oyster. That an oyster thus distinguished has not led a happy existence is testified by the distorted shape of its shell, a clue that guides the pearl-fishers in their search. Moreover, pearl-oysters never have thick nacreous shells, and on the other hand molluscs with fine mother-o’-pearl seldom contain pearls. Beautiful white and silvery pearls are found in a small oyster that lives at a depth of 6 to 13 fathoms (11-24 m.) in the Gulf of Manaar, off the coast of Ceylon. About seven-eighths, however, of the pearls that come into the market are obtained from a larger oyster which has its home on the Arabian coast of the Persian Gulf. These famous fisheries have been known since very early times, The pearls found here are more yellowish than those from Ceylon, but are nevertheless of excellent quality. The pearl fisheries off the north-west coast of Western Australia and off Venezuela are also not unimportant, and fine black pearls have been supplied by molluscs from the Gulf of Mexico. The Chinese have long made a practice of introducing into the shell of a pearl-oyster little tin images of Buddha in order that they may be coated with the nacreous secretion. The Japanese have during recent years made quite an industry of stimulating the efforts of the mollusc by cementing small pieces of mother-o’-pearl to the interior surface of the shell (Plate XXXII, Fig. 1); these ‘culture’ pearls, as they are termed, are recognizable by examination of the back. About a year has to elapse before a coating of a tenth of a millimetre is formed. and another two years must pass before the thickness is doubled. After removal the piece of mother-o-pearl, which is now coated with several nacreous layers, is cemented to a piece of ordinary mother-o-pearl, and the lower portion is ground to the usual symmetrical shape (Plate XXXII, Fig. 2) Blister pearls are often similarly treated. In both cases, however, the ‘orient’ is deficient in quality. The finest mother-o’pearl is supplied by a mollusc found in the sea near the islands lying between Borneo and the Philippines, and fine material is found at Shark Bay and off Thursday Island. Coral ranks far below pearl and meets with but limited appreciation. It is common enough in warm seas, but the only kind which finds its way into jewellery is the rose or red-coloured coral—the noble coral, Corallium nobile or rubrum. It consists of the axial skeleton of the coral polyp, and is built up of hollow tubes fitting one within the other. The composition is mainly calcium carbonate with a little magnesium carbonate and a small amount of organic matter. The former of the mineral substances is in the form of calcite, and the crystals are arranged in fibrous form radiating at right angles to the axis of the coral. The specific gravity varies from 2.6 to 2.7, being slightly under that of calcite, and the hardness is somewhat greater, being about 33/4 on Mohs’s scale. The best red coral is found in the Mediterranean Sea off Algiers and Tunis in Africa, and Sicily and the Calabrian Coast of Italy. The industry of shaping and fashioning the coral is carried on almost entirely in Italy. Coral is usually cut into beads, either round or eg shaped, and used for necklaces, rosaries, and bracelets. The best quality fetches from 20s. to 30s. per carat.
AMBER
This fossil resin, yellow and brownish-vellow in tint, finds an extensive use as the material for mouthpieces of pipes, cigar and cigarette-holders, umbrella-handles, and so on, and is even locally cut for jewellery, although its extreme softness, its hardness being only 21/2 on Mohs’s scale, quite unfits it for such a purpose. It is only slightly denser than water, the specific gravity being about 1.10. Since the structure is amorphous the refraction is single. the index being about 1.540. Amber, being a very bad conductor of heat, is perceptibly warm to the touch. Its property of becoming electrified by friction attracted early attention, and from the Greek name for it, ήλεκτρον, is derived our word electricity. Amber is washed up by the sea off the coasts of Sicily and Prussia, and of Norfolk and Suffolk in England. The finest examples, which are picked up off the shore of Catania in Sicily, are distinguished by a fine bluish fluorescence, resembling that seen in lubricating oil; such pieces command good prices. A recent resin, pale yellow in colour, known as kauri-gum, is found in New Zealand, where it is highly valued.
TABLES
TABLE I
Chemical Composition of Gem-Stones
(a) ELEMENTS—
Diamond C
(b) OXIDES
Corundum Al2O3
Quartz SiO2
Chalcedony SiO2
Opal. SiO2.nH2O
(c) ALUMINATES—
Spinel MgAl2O4
Chrysoberyl BeAl2O3
(d) SILICATES
Phenakite Be2SiO4
Dioptase H2CuSiO4
Peridot Mg2SiO4
Zircon ZrSiO4
Enstatite MgSiO3
Diopside CaMg(SiO3)2
Nephrite CaMg3(SiO3)4
Sphene CaTiSiO5
Benitoite BaTiSi3O9
Andalusite Al(AlO)SiO4
Kyanite (AlO)2SiO3
Topaz [AI(F,OH)]2SiO4
Epidote Ca2(Al,Fe)2(AlOH)(SiO4)3
Euclase Be(AlOH)SiO4
Prehnite H2Ca2Al2(SiO4)3
Iolite H2(Mg,Fe)4Al8Si10O37
Garnet (Hessonite Ca3Al2(SiO4)3 Pyrope Mg3Al2(SiO4)3 Almandine Fe3Al2(SiO4)3 Andradite Ca3Fe2(SiO4)3
Beryl. Be3Al2(SiO3)6
Spodumene LiAl(SiO3)2
Jadeite NaAl(SiO3)2
Moonstone KAlSi3O8
Tourmaline 12SiO23B2O3(9-x)[(Al,Fe)2O3].3x[(Fe,Mn,Ca,Mg,K2,Na2, Li2, H2)O].3H2O
Axinite HCa3Al2B(SiO4)4
Idocrase (Ca,Mn,Mg,Fe)2[(Al,Fe)(OH,F)]Si2O7
(e) PHOSPHATES—
Beryllonite NaBePO4
Apatite Ca5(F,CI)(PO4)3
Turquoise. CuOH.6[AI(OH)2)].H5.(PO4)4
TABLE II
Colour of Gem-Stones
Colourless and White.—Diamond, corundum (white sapphire), topaz, quartz (rock-crystal), zircon (when ‘fired’), moonstone; rarely beryl, tourmaline; among the less common species, phenakite, spodumene (colourless kunzite), beryllonite.
Yellow.—Diamond, topaz, corundum (yellow sapphire). quartz (citrine, Scotch or occidental topaz), tourmaline, zircon, sphene, spodumene, beryl.
Pink and Lilac.—Corundum (pink sapphire), spinel (balas-ruby), tourmaline (rubellite), topaz (usually when ‘fired’), spodumene (kunzite), beryl (morganite), quartz (rose-quartz).
Red. -Corundum (ruby), garnet (pyrope, almandine). spinel (balas-ruby), tourmaline (rubellite), zircon. opal (fire-opal).
Green.—Beryl (emerald, aquamarine), peridot, corundum, tourmaline, chrysoberyl (including alexandrite), zircon, garnet (demantoid); among less common species, spodumene (hiddenite), euclase. diopside, idocrase, epidote, apatite, obsidian; rarely diamond; also semi-opaque, turquoise, jade.
Blue.—Corundum (sapphire), spinel, topaz, tourmaline, zircon; among the less common species, kyanite, iolite, benitoite, apatite; rarely diamond; also semi-opaque, turquoise, lapis lazuli, sodalite.
Violet and Purple.—Quartz (amethyst), corundum (oriental amethyst), spinel (almandine-spinel), garnet (almandine), spodumene (kunzite), apatite.
Brown.—Diamond, tourmaline, quartz (smoky-quartz); among the less common species, andalusite, axinite, sphene.
TABLE III
Refractive Indices of Gem-Stones8
Opal 1.454
Moonstone 1.53—154
Iolite 1.543—1.551
Quartz 1.544—1.553
Beryllonite 1.553—1.565
Beryl 1.578—1.585
Turquoise 1.61—1.65
Topaz 1.618—1.627
Andalusite 1.632—1.643
Tourmaline 1.626—1.651
Apatite 1.642—1.646
Phenakite 1.652—1.667
Euclase 1.651—1.670
Spodumene 1.660—1.675
Enstatite 1.665—1.674
Peridot 1.659—1.697
Axinite 1.674—1.684
Diopside. 1.685—1.705
Idocrase. 1.714—1.719
Spinel 1.726
Kyanite 1.72—1.73
Epidote 1.735—1.766
Garnet (Hessonite) 1.745
Chrysoberyl 1.746—1.753
Garnet (Pyrope) 1.755
Benitoite 1.757—1.804
Corundum 1.761—1.770
Garnet (Almandine) 1.790
Zircon (a) 1.815
Garnet (Demantoid) 1.885
Sphene 1.901—1.985
Zircon (b) 1.927—1.980
Diamond 2.417
TABLE IV
Colour-Dispersion of Gem-Stones9
Moonstone .012
Spinel .020
Quartz .013
Garnet (Almandine) .024
Beryl .014
Garnet (Pyrope) .027
Topaz .014
Garnet (Hessonite) .028
Chrysoberyl .015
Zircon .038
Tourmaline .017
Diamond .044
Spodumene .017
Sphene .051
Corundum .018
Garnet (Demantoid) .057
Peridot .020
TABLE V
Character of the Refraction of Gem-Stones
(a) SINGLE— Diamond, spinel, garnet, opal. Diamond and garnet frequently display local double reffaction.
(b) UNIAXIAL, POSITIVE
Quartz .009
Benitoite. 041
Phenakite
Zircon (b). 053
Quartz exhibits circular polarization.
(c) UNIAXIAL, NEGATIVE
Apatite .004
Corundum .009
Idocrase .005
Tourmaline .025
Beryl .007
(d) BIAXIAL, POSITIVE—
Chrysoberyl .007
Euclase .019
Topaz .009
Diopside .020
Enstatite .009
Peridot .038
Sphene .015
Spodumene .084
(e) BIAXIAL, NEGATIVE—
Moonstone .006
Beryllonite .012
Iolite .008
Kyanite .016
Axinite .010
Epidote .031
Andalusite .011
TABLE VI
Dichroism of Gem-Stones
(a) STRONG
Corundum, tourmaline, alexandrite, spodumene, andalusite, iolite, epidote, axinite.
(b) DISTINCT
Emerald, topaz, quartz, peridot, chrysoberyl, enstatite, euclase, idocrase, kyanite, sphene, apatite.
(c) WEAK
Beryl, diopside.
TABLE VII
Specific Gravities of Gem-Stones
Opal 2.15
Peridot 3.40
Moonstone 2.57
Idocrase 3.40
Iolite 2.63
Sphene 3.40
Quartz 2.66
Diamond 3.52
Beryl 2.74
Topaz 3.53
Turquoise 2.82
Spinel 3.60
Beryllonite 2.84
Kyanite 3.61
Phenakite 2.99
Garnet (Hessonite) 3.61
Euclase 3.07
Benitoite 3.64
Tourmaline 3.10
Chrysoberyl 3.73
Enstatite 3.10
Garnet (Pyrope) 3.78
Andalusite 3.18
Garnet (Demantoid) 3.84
Spodumene 3.18
Corundum 4.03
Apatite 3.20
Garnet (Almandine) 4.05
Axinite 3.28
Zircon (a) 4.20
Diopside 3.29
Zircon (b). 4.69
Epidote 3.37
TABLE VIII
Degrees of Hardness of Gem-Stones
5. Kyanite (5-7), apatite, lapis lazuli
51/2. Enstatite, beryllonite, sphene
6. Opal, moonstone, turquoise, diopside
61/2. Spodumene, peridot, garnet (demantoid), benitoite. idocrase, epidote, axinite, jade (nephrite)
7. Tolite, quartz, tourmaline, jade (jadeite)
71/4. Garnet (hessonite, pyrope)
71/2. Beryl, garnet (almandine), zircon, phenakite, euclase. andalusite
8. Topaz, spinel
81/2. Chrysoberyl
9. Corundum
10. Diamond
TABLE IX.—DATA
Densities of Water and Toluol at Ordinary Temperatures
Temperature
Temperature
Water
Toluol
Centigrade
Fahrenheit


14°
57.2°
0.9994
0.8697
15°
59.0°
0.9992
0.8687
16°
60.8°
0.9990
0.8677
17°
62.6°
0.9988
0.8667
18°
64.4°
0.9986
0.8657
19°
66.2°
0.9985
0.8647
20°
68.0°
0.9983
0.8637
21°
69.0°
0.9981
0.8627
22°
71.6°
0.9979
0.8617
23°
73.4°
0.9977
0.8607

1 English carat = 0.2053 gram
1 Metric carat = 0.2000 (one-fifth) gram
1 oz. Av. = 28.35 grams
1 lb. Av. = 0.4536 kilogram
1 inch. — 25.4 millimetres
1 foot = 0.3048 metre
1 yard = 0.9144 metre
1 mile. 1.6093 kilometre

1 The word medium is employed by physicists to express any substance through which light passes, and includes solids such as glass, liquids such as water, and gases such as air; the nature of the substance is not postulated.

2 Methylene iodide must be heated almost to boiling-point to enable it to absorb sufficient sulphur; but caution must be exercised in the operation to prevent the liquid boiling over and catching fire, the resulting fumes being far from pleasant. It is advisable to verify by actual observation that the liquid is refractive enough not to show any shadow-edge in the field of view of the refractometer.

3 ϒωνία, angle; μέτρον, measure. For details of the construction. adjustment, and use of this instrument the reader should reser to textbooks of mineralogy or crystallography.
4 A cleavage flake of topaz may conveniently be used to show the phenomenon, but owing to the great width of the angle the t eves’ are invisible.

5 In accordance with the usual custom the angle between the facets is taken as that between their normals, or the supplement of the salient angle.
6 The word paste is derived from the Italian, pasta, food, being suggested by the soft plastic nature of the material used to imitate gems.
7 Cf. below, p. 149.
8 The least and the greatest of the refractive indices of doubly refractive species are given.

9 The dispersion is the difference of the refractive indices corresponding to the B and G lines of the solar spectrum. The value for crown-glass is .016.

JEWELLERY

JEWELLERY, H. CLIFFORD SMITH
PREFACE
The term Jewellery is used generally in a very wide sense, and it has been necessary to impose certain limitations upon its meaning for the purpose of the present work. Jewellery may be defined as comprising various objects adapted to personal ornament, precious in themselves or rendered precious by their workmanship. The jewel worn as a personal ornament may be merely decorative, such as the aigrette or the pendant, or it may be useful as well as ornamental, such as the brooch or the girdle. Gems and precious stones are not jewels, in the present sense, until the jeweller’s skill has wrought and set them. This definition will be found to correspond with the term minuteria adopted by Italian writers on the goldsmith’s art for objects in precious materials employed for the adornment of the person, as distinct from grosseria–those fashioned for household use or ornament. With the exception of a chapter dealing with Egyptian jewellery, I have confined myself solely to Europe. The work falls into four main divisions. The first deals with the jewellery worn during classical times, and until the ninth century of our era. The second treats of the jewels of the Middle Ages. The third is devoted to the jewels of the Renaissance, and the fourth includes those of subsequent times. In the chapters dealing with Renaissance and later jewellery I have endeavoured to utilise the valuable evidence, hitherto generally overlooked or neglected, which may be derived from the engraved designs and working drawings of jewellers, from personal inventories, and from pictures by the old masters. Perhaps too generous a share of attention has been bestowed on English work; but this may be pardoned when it is remembered that the previous literature of jewellery has been almost entirely from the pens of French and German writers. While fully appreciating the importance and interest of the recent revival of artistic jewellery, I have not thought it necessary, in a book intended mainly for the connoisseur, to give more than a rapid review of the main features of the modern movement, with a brief mention of some prominent craftsmen therein employed. For similar reasons no general account is given of the processes of manufacturing articles of jewellery, though references are made to technical methods when they serve to explain points of artistic importance. Assistance has been supplied by numerous works. The largest debt is due to the learned art historian Ferdinand Luthmer, whose standard work Gold und Silber has afforded most important aid. From Rücklin’s Schmuckbuch I have constantly derived instruction; and Fontenay’s Bijoux anciens et modernes has been a storehouse of information. Other books which have been of service are included in the Bibliography. It is now my duty and pleasure to express my obligations to all those whose unvarying kindness has facilitated my researches. Special thanks are due: to Lady Rothschild, who has presented me with photographs, specially taken for the purpose, of some of her choicest jewels; to Lady Fuller-Eliott-Drake, who at considerable personal inconvenience brought the Drake jewels to London; to Mr. Jeffery Whitehead, who despatched for my use a number of jewels from his collection; to Mr. Max Rosenheim, who, besides placing at my disposal his unrivalled series of engraved designs for jewellery, has read through and corrected the portion of the subject dealing with engraved ornament; to Sir John Evans, K.C.B., who has guided me personally through his splendid collections of early jewellery; and to Dr. Williamson, for assisting me in many ways, and for the loan, on behalf of Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, of copyright photographs of the finest enamelled miniature-cases from his catalogue of Mr. Morgan’’s collection, with leave to describe and reproduce such of them as I might select for this volume. Among those who have favoured me with permission to publish the treasures in their possession I must gratefully mention Lady Cook (Viscondessa de Monserrate), Lady Ramsay, Lady Monckton, Mrs. Holman Hunt, Mrs. Percy Macquoid, the Marquess of Clanricarde, Viscount Falkland, and Lord Fitzhardinge; also Herr James Simon, of Berlin, and Lieut.-Col. G. B. Croft Lyons, who have presented me with photographs of their jewels. Thanks are also due to Dr. Kitchin, Dean of Durham, for the photograph of St. Cuthbert’s Cross; to Dr. Spooner, Warden of New College, for permission and aid in photographing the New College jewels; to Dr. J. Anderson, Director of the National Museum of Antiquities of Scotland, for the loan of blocks of two jewels in the Edinburgh Museum; to Mr. F. G. Hilton Price, who enabled me to photograph the old ledgers in Child’s Bank; and to Mr. J. T. Herbert Baily, for leave to reproduce illustrations to my articles on the King’s gems and jewels at Windsor Castle in the “Connoisseur” (1902-3). The names of many others, who have kindly lent me jewels or photographs, will be found, attached to the individual objects, in the List of Illustrations. I would especially thank, amongst others, the following officers of the Continental museums who have generously presented me with photographs of articles of jewellery in the collections under their charge, or have aided me with their advice:—Sir Henry Angst, K.C.M.G., British Consul-General for Switzerland, late Director of the Zurich Museum; M. E. van Overloop, Conservator of the Royal Museums, Brussels; Dr. Lindenschmidt, Director of the Mainz Museum; Dr. Hermann J. Hermann, Keeper of the Imperial Art Collections, Vienna; Dr. Wilhelm Behncke, late of the Kunstgewerbe Museum, Berlin; Dr. H. Graf, Director of the Bavarian National Museum, Munich; Dr. L. Curtius, of the Antiquarium, Munich; and M. J. de Foville, of the Cabinet des Médailles, Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. Grateful acknowledgment is also due to the officers of the British Museum for the help they have given me, particularly to Mr. Cyril Davenport for numerous valuable suggestions. To my colleagues in the Victoria and Albert Museum I owe cordial thanks for much encouragement and help, particularly to Mr. A. Van de Put for his aid in reading through the proofs of this volume; and above all to Mr. Martin Hardie, A.R.E., who, besides executing the pen-drawings which illustrate the text, has assisted me in various ways, and throughout the whole course of the present work has favoured me with constant advice and suggestions.
H. CLIFFORD SMITH
INTRODUCTION
The love of ornament prompted by vanity is inherent in the human race. A most primitive instinct of human beings is to make their persons more beautiful, more imposing, or more striking by ornamentation. This inclination is as old as dress itself, nay, perhaps, dates even further back. For there are tribes to whom climate and civilisation have not yet suggested the necessity of clothing the body, but who nevertheless possess ornaments of some degree of development. From the rudest of beginnings up to the last refinements of art, jewelled ornaments have ever the same purpose in view—to give prominence to individual parts of the body by means of glittering, beautiful objects which involuntarily draw the eye of the spectator in the desired direction. Jewellery is not only worn with the purpose of attracting attention and setting off the beauty of the person, but satisfies the desire, not less deep-rooted in humanity, of establishing a distinctive mark of rank and dignity. In fact the wearing of certain kinds of ornaments has at times been fixed by legislation. Among savages, and races not far removed from barbarism, it may be observed that the love of ornament is chiefly characteristic of men. As civilisation advances it is displayed more and more by women alone. Yet even a century ago, among the most civilised nations of Europe, the “beaux” and “macaronis” adorned themselves with jewellery of all kinds. Today, however, it is confined, and with greater propriety, almost entirely to women. Desirous always of pleasing, the gentle sex has ever sought to add to its charms by adorning itself with jewels. Two methods of dealing with the history of the present subject present themselves. One method consists in taking individual classes of jewellery, tracing their complete development, and following the changes they undergo during the various periods of civilisation. By the other—the historical method—all types of jewellery in existence at a particular time are examined side by side within the historical period to which they belong. The general changes that take place at one epoch find an echo in every piece of jewellery that belongs to that epoch. The different classes of jewellery during every period all bear a distinct relationship of style. For instance, the changes which take place in the aspect of the necklace at a particular epoch will be found to occur at the same time in that of the bracelet and girdle. But there may exist the widest divergence in style and idea between a particular piece of jewellery and its successor of a subsequent period. For these reasons an historical and chronological mode of treatment has been adopted, which will allow more completeness of observation, and fuller and more scientific investigation of style and craftmanship. Certain difficulties are nevertheless encountered, because periods and fashions naturally overlap. This is particularly the case in times when communication was not easy; since some people would cling to an old form of jewellery, while others, more travelled or more fashionably minded, would prefer a new. In proceeding towards a systematic classification of personal ornaments it may be advisable, instead of dealing with the separate ornaments of each period according to their relative importance or prominence, to follow a simpler and more natural plan. Thus, the ornaments dealt with in each succeeding epoch will in every case be those worn: (1) on the head—diadems, tiaras, aigrettes, hair-pins, jewels for the hat and cap, and earrings; (2) on the neck-necklaces and neckchains hung with numerous varieties of pendants; (3) on the breast—brooches, clasps, buttons; (4) on the limbs—armlets, anklets, bracelets, rings; and (5) on the- body and waist—girdles and their various attachments, chatelaines, and miscellaneous pendent ornaments, such as pomanders, scent-cases, rosaries, etc. A few preliminary words may be said respecting the evolution of some of the various ornaments employed on the different parts of the body. The custom of decorating the head with jewelled ornaments was probably suggested by the natural idea of encircling it with flowers in token of joy or triumph. The use of diadems was in early times generally reserved for those of noble birth. From the fillets employed for binding the hair, developed circlets, which with the addition of precious stones assumed the dignity of crowns. The use of earrings as personal ornaments seems to have originated in the East, where they have always been in favour. Earrings formed an important article of jewellery during the classical ages, but they were not commonly worn again in Europe until the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. At the present moment fashion does not decree their general use. The necklace—one of the most primitive of ornaments—is worn either close round the throat, loosely round the neck, or low down upon the breast. Occasionally, as among savage peoples, it takes the form of a ring; but as a rule it is formed either of a simple cord, or a chain formed by the appropriate linking together of rings, perforated discs, or pierced balls. Artistic effects are produced by a regular alternation of these details, as well as by the tapering of the chain from the middle towards the ends. Neck-chains with symbolic elements are those worn as orders and as signs of dignity. The necklace may be further ornamented by a row of pendants, or more generally a single pendent ornament. The pendant thus employed has become, perhaps, the most beautiful of all articles of adornment. It occupies a conspicuous position upon the person, and possibly for this reason has evoked the greatest skill and refinement of the jeweller’s art. Its varieties are manifold—from the primitive charm, and the symbolic ornaments of the Middle Ages, to the elaborate pendant, for the most part purely decorative, dating from Renaissance times. Next comes the important group of ornaments worn chiefly on the breast, comprising brooches, clasps and pins, employed for fastening the dress. All have their origin in the simple pin. To this class belongs the hair-pin, of which the most handsome and varied examples are to be found in ancient work. Unlike modern hair-pins which are provided with two points, they have a single cylindrical or slightly conical stem, pointed at one end, and terminated at the other with a knob or some other finial. A simple pin for the dress was uncommon in antiquity, and its general use for this purpose belongs to comparatively recent times. Its place was always taken, especially in early periods, by a brooch-an outcome of the pin—which supplied the want of buttons. The brooch, an ornament of very considerable importance, can be traced down from the earliest civilisation, and is a valuable criterion in questions of ethnic movements. The story, however, of the growth of each of the different classes into which primitive brooches may be divided, the periods at which these ornaments made their appearance, and the deductions of ethnographical interest that may be drawn therefrom, must of necessity lie outside the scope of the present work. All brooches, as has been said, originated from the simple pin, which itself was preceded by and probably derived from a thorn. At an early period this pin, after having been passed through the garment, was for greater security bent up, and its point caught behind the head. Later, in order that the point might be held more securely in the catch, the pin was given a complete turn, which produced the spring, as seen in the common form of our modern safety-pin. Thus constructed, the brooch, though in one piece, may be said to consist of four parts: (a) the acus or pin; (b) the spring or hinge; (c) the catch or locking apparatus, which forms the sheath of the pin; and (d) the bow or back—the framework uniting the spring with the catch. From this primitive safety-pin, which is the foundation form of all brooches with a catch, developed the numerous varieties and patterns of the brooch or fibula of succeeding ages. Amongst these is the Roman fibula, which instead of being made of one piece of metal, is of two pieces—the bow and the acus. The pin here works on a hinge—the result of gradually extending the coils of the spring symmetrically on each side of the pin into what is known as the doubletwisted or bilateral spring, and placing a bar through the coils thus made. From the brooch hinged in this manner originated the Roman provincial fibula of the T-shaped type common in France and Britain, and later the cruciform brooch of Anglo-Saxon times. The brooch with a hinge was exclusively used until the revival of the “safety-pin” with a spring, patented as a new invention in the nineteenth century. In addition to the above brooches or fibulae (group 1)—all developments of the safety-pin type—there are three other large groups of brooches: (2) the circular disc type; (3) the penannular or Celtic brooch; and (4) the ring-brooch. The first of these—the type generally worn at the present day—may be described as a flat disc fitted with a hinged pin. In cemeteries belonging to the Early Iron Age in Southern Europe circular plates have been found fitted with a pin. These plates appear1 to have been developed by the conversion of a primitive disc of spiral concentric wire into a circular plate. From the brooch of this type sprang the circular brooch of the Roman period, often inlaid with enamel, as well as the splendid circular brooches of Anglo-Saxon times, and all other disc-shaped brooches. In all early periods, and even in Roman times, the bow or safety-pin type of brooch was commoner A than the disc and also more practical, as it offered room for the gathered folds of the garment. In modern times the disc-shaped brooch fitted with a hinged or sometimes with a spring pin has been principally used. The two remaining groups of brooches—(3) the Celtic brooch and (4) the ring-brooch—are both developments of the simple pin in combination with a ring—in the former case penannular and in the latter annular. The Celtic brooch, with penannular ring and long pin, is apparently the result of fitting a pin to a prehistoric form of fastening for the dress—a penannular ring terminating with knobs, known as a mammillary fibula. The ring-brooch with complete ring, and pin of the same length as the diameter of the ring, which was popular in mediæval times, is the outcome of fitting a complete ring of wire to a pin to prevent the head of the pin from slipping through the material—which ring in course of time became the more important member. It is improbable that the Celtic brooch originated in the same way, from the union of a long pin with a small ring. Nor is it likely that these two forms of brooches were evolved the one out of the other by the shortening or lengthening of the pins. As a matter of fact the two appear to have arisen independently side by side. Bracelets and armlets may be considered together, for though the bracelet is properly only a decoration for the wrist, the term has become descriptive of any ornament worn upon the arm. The bracelet, together with the necklace, were the earliest ornaments used for the decoration of mankind. Amongst savage tribes both were worn in some form or another—the necklace as an ornament pure and simple, but the bracelet serving frequently a practical purpose, sometimes as a shield for the arm in combat, sometimes covered with spikes, and used for offensive purposes. While used universally by women in the form of a band, closed, or open on one side, or else in the shape of a spiral, or fashioned like a chain, the bracelet has been worn from the earliest times in the East by men also, especially by princes as one of the insignia of royalty, and by distinguished persons in general. Of all jewels the simplest and at the same time perhaps the most interesting and important is the finger ring. It is universally employed as an article of personal ornament, and has been worn by both sexes at almost all times, and in nearly every country. Sometimes it is an object of use as the signet ring, or a token of dignity as the bishop’s ring. Sometimes it has a symbolical significance, as the wedding ring. Sometimes it is purely ornamental. Most finger rings may be said to be formed of two parts-the circular portion which surrounds the finger, known as the hoop or shank, and the enlarged or upper portion which is called the bezel. This latter term, applied to the upper side of the ring, which is broadened to receive an ornament of some kind, generally a stone, seems to have originally designated the basil or projecting flange, that retained the stone in its setting. The term collet, also used for the whole top including the stone or seal, is similarly derived from the flange or collet in which the stone is set. From its box-like shape this part of the ring is also called the chaton. The belt or girdle was worn round the waist by men as a means of suspending weapons, by women sometimes merely as an ornament, and generally by both sexes for the practical purpose of confining the clothing. It is commonly formed of a band of leather or textile material. The part as a rule which receives particular attention is the fastening. This is either in the form of a clasp, or more often a buckle. The clasp consists of two parts, generally symmetrical, one of which can be hooked into the other. The buckle, another combination of a ring with a pin, is similar to the mediæeval ring-brooch, but differs from it in that while the pin of the brooch pierces the material twice, that of the buckle pierces it only once. It may be described as a rectangular or curved rim having one or more hinged pins or spikes attached on one side of it or on a bar across its centre, and long enough to rest upon The buckle is made fast to one end the opposite side. of the girdle; whilst the other end, drawn through on the principle of a slip knot, is kept fast by pushing the point of the pin or tongue through a hole made in the material of the girdle. The girdle is attached by means of sewing a fold of it round the bar or round one side of the rim of the buckle. As a great strain was put upon the doubling of the leather or stuff, this soonest gave way. Consequently a plate of metal was passed round the bar or edge of the buckle, and the two portions of it received the end of the strap between them. The whole was then made fast with rivets. The plate is known as the buckle-plate. One end of the girdle being thus furnished, the other was frequently made to terminate with a metal chape to enable it to pass easily through the ring of the buckle in the process of buckling and unbuckling. This chape is known also as the mordant. The chief point of the girdle to be decorated was the buckle-plate, which was often in one piece with the buckle, or hinged to it. The mordant or tag was commonly decorated too, while ornaments of metal of similar design, sometimes jewelled, were applied at regular intervals to the strap or band of the girdle. In later years the girdle often took the form of a chain, on which, as in the case of chains for the neck and wrists, artistic effects were produced by a regular sequence of links. Fastened by a clasp, it was worn by women chiefly as an ornament, or to carry small objects for personal use. For the latter purpose it was subsequently supplanted by the chatelaine.
JEWELLERY
EARLY JEWELLERY
CHAPTER I
EGYPTIAN AND PHŒNICIAN JEWELLERY
Most of the forms met with among the jewellery of the civilised nations of later times are found represented in the ornaments of the Egyptians. It is fortunate that important specimens of all descriptions of these have come down to our days. This we owe to the elaborate care which the Egyptians bestowed on the preservation of the dead, and to the strict observance of funeral rites, which induced them to dress and ornament their mummies with a view to future comfort both in the grave and in the after life. The ornaments, however, buried with the dead were frequently mere models of what were worn in life, and the pains taken in making these depended on the sums expended by the friends of the deceased after his death. While those who were possessed of means and were scrupulous in their last duties to the dead purchased ornaments of the best workmanship and of the most costly materials, others who were unable or unwilling to incur expense in providing such objects were contented with glass pastes instead of precious stones, and glazed pottery instead of gold. With the exception of many finger rings worn by both sexes and some female ornaments, the greater number of jewels discovered in the tombs are of inferior quality and value to those which the deceased had worn when living. A peculiarity of the jewellery of the Egyptians is that, in addition to its actual purpose, it generally possesses something of the allegorical and emblematic signification, for which their mythology offered plentiful material. Among the emblems or figures of objects which symbolise or suggest the qualities of deities, the most favourite is the scarab or beetle, type of the god Khepera. The use of scarabs in burial had reference to the resurrection of the dead and immortality. Other important emblems include the uza or utchat, the symbolic eye—the eye of Horus, the hawk-god; the cobra snake, the uræus—emblem of divine and royal sovereignty; the tet, the four-barred emblem of stability, endurance, and lastingness; the human-headed hawk, emblem of the soul. These and many others, as well as figures from the animal world, were worn as ornaments, and especially as amulets to bring good fortune or to ward off evil. Colour plays an important part in Egyptian jewellery. This love of colour was displayed in the use of glazed ware, incorrectly termed porcelain, but properly a faience, much employed for all articles, as necklaces, scarabs, and rings, and particularly for the various kinds of amulets which were largely worn as personal ornaments. The most usual and beautiful was the cupreous glaze of a blue or apple-green colour; yellow, violet, red, and white are also met with, but less frequently, and chiefly at later periods. But colour showed itself above all in the surface decoration of jewellery, produced by the application of coloured stones and the imitation of these inserted in cells of gold prepared for them. The chief materials employed for the purpose were lapislazuli, turquoise, root of emerald or green felspar, jasper, and obsidian, besides various opaque glasses imitating them. With the exception of enamel upon metal, which is only found in Egypt in quite late periods, the Egyptians appear to have been acquainted with all the processes of jewellery now in use. Chasing and engraving they preferred to all other modes of ornamenting metal-work, as these methods enhanced the beauty of their jewels while retaining a level surface. They were also highly skilled in soldering and in the art of repoussé work. The great malleability of gold enabled them to overlay ornaments of silver, bronze, and even stone with thin leaves of this metal; while ornaments were also composed entirely of plates of gold of extreme thinness. In articles where frequent repetition occurs, for instance, in necklaces, patterns were produced by pressure in moulds, and then soldered together. Examples of jewellery furnished by the Egyptian tombs are to be found in the museums of almost every country. Undoubtedly the finest collection is in the Viceregal Museum of Egyptian Antiquities at Cairo. It contains jewels of the earliest dynasties, very few of which are to be found outside it. Dating from the great Theban dynasties, the eighteenth and nineteenth, when the jeweller’s art reached its highest level, are many beautiful examples, notably the famous set of jewels discovered in the tomb of Queen Aāh-hetep (1600 B.C.). Fine collections are also preserved in the British Museum, in Berlin, Munich, and in the Louvre. Following the sequence of ornaments from the head downwards, mention must first be made of diadems or frontlets. These were composed either of ring ornaments, set with precious stones and strung in a variety of ways, which hung down over the temples, or of gold bands ornamented in cloisonné inlay with the favourite allegorical representations of animals in various arrangements. In the case of royal personages there is a uraeus in front. Among all Oriental nations of antiquity of whom we have any accurate knowledge, earrings have always been in general use by both sexes; but as far as can be judged from monuments, these ornaments appear in Egypt to have been worn by women alone. M. Fontenay2 claims that the holes visible in the ears of statues of Rameses II—such as the colossal head in the British Museum, cast from the original in the temple of Ipsamboul—have been pierced for earrings. But even so, earrings had probably only a sacerdotal or sacred significance, and were worn by the sovereign only, and on very exceptional occasions. Earrings, however, found very little favour even among women until what in Egyptian chronology are comparatively late times. Those that do occur are of the simplest kind, formed of a ring-shaped hook for piercing the lobe of the ear, hung with a blossom-shaped or symbolical pendant. Large penannular rings of various matérials were occasionally employed as ear ornaments; the opening in them enabling them to be fitted on to the upper part of the ear. Necklaces appear to have played a very prominent part in Egyptian ornaments. No tomb seems to be without them, and the wall paintings also prove their very general use. Most frequent is a chain consisting of various materials strung together, generally with a large drop or figure in the centre, and pendent motives introduced at definite intervals. The latter, of every imaginable variety of design, occur in rhythmical alternation, and are occasionally introduced between two rows of beads. The peculiarly severe and regular decorations of the Egyptians—more particularly the various charming adaptations of open and closed lotus flowers—are here found in the finest forms of application. Especially is this shown on the ornament called the usekh collar, which figures on every mummy and mummy case. Formed of rows, generally of cylinder-shaped beads with pendants, strung together and gathered up at either end to the head of a lion or hawk or to a lotus flower, this collar or breast decoration covered the shoulders and chest, and is found in that position on the mummy, attached frequently to the winding-sheet. One of the most important Egyptian ornaments is the pectoral, which, as its name implies, was worn on the breast, suspended by a ribbon or chain. In all probability it formed a portion of the everyday costume of men and women, but its symbolism points to its chief use as a mortuary ornament, and it is found on almost every mummy. Pectorals are usually in the form of a pylon or shrine, in the middle of which is often a scarab, the emblem of transformation and immortality, adored by the goddesses Isis or Nephthys. These ornaments were made of metal—rarely gold, more often gilded bronze—and very frequently of alabaster, steatite, and basalt sometimes glazed, and of earthenware always glazed. In the Cairo Museum is a pectoral of pure gold inlaid with carnelian, lapislazuli and turquoises, which was found at Dashûr in 1894 in the tomb of the Princess Set-Hathor (twelfth dynasty). Discovered at the same time was a pectoral having at the top a vulture with outspread wings and below the name of Usertsen III supported on either side by hawk-headed sphinxes. The open-work pectoral of Queen Aāh-hetep, of solid gold, also at Cairo, is one of the most beautiful of all specimens of Egyptian jewellery. Another golden pectoral, found in the tomb of Khā-em-uas, son of Rameses II, is in the Louvre. Somewhat similar to the pectorals are jewels in the shape of conventional hawks. As emblems of the soul, they are found placed upon the breast of the mummy. The finest are made of pure gold decorated with cloisons shaped according to the natural formations of the body and wings of the bird. The talons grasp a pair of signet rings. Allied to these are ornaments known as ægides, which were occasionally also worn on the breast. A very beautiful specimen, the ægis of Bast, is in the Louvre. Sculptures and paintings represent bracelets by bands of red or blue colour on the arms, and show that the Egyptians wore four—one on the wrist and one above the elbow of each arm. Some of the earliest are composed of glass and gold beads threaded so as to form various patterns. The more solid forms of bracelet are ornamented with inlaid work. Rings for the arms, as well as the ankles, are generally of plain gold—both solid and hollow—sometimes bordered with plaited chain-work. Bracelets of thick and occasionally twisted wire, found as early as the twelfth dynasty, usually have the ends beaten out into a thin wire, which is lapped round the opposite shank so as to slip easily over the wrist. Bracelets in the form of serpents belong to the Ptolemaic and early Roman periods. The commonest ornament is the finger ring. The ring was not only an ornament, but an actual necessity, since it served as a signet, the owner’s emblem or badge being engraved either on the metal of the ring or on a scarab or other stone set in it. There are three main types of Egyptian rings. The first and simplest, composed of a seal stone with a ring attached, is formed of a hoop with flattened ends, each pierced, which grasp the scarab. Through a hole made in the scarab was run a wire, the ends of which, passing through the extremities of the ring, were wound several times round it. The revolving scarab exhibited its back when worn on the finger and the engraved side when necessary to use it as a seal. The general outline of the ring is like a stirrup, a form which of course varied in accordance with the size of the scarab. In a second type of ring the swivel disappears, and the ring is in one piece. Its outline retains the stirrup form, but the inside of the hoop is round and fits closely to the finger. Of this type are rings, dating from the eighteenth to the twentieth dynasty, formed of two hoops united at the top and having the names and titles of the owner deeply sunk in hieroglyphics on oblong gold bezels. A third type, almost circular in outline, is of similar form to the signet-ring of the present day. In addition to those which were actually worn in life, are models of real rings employed solely for funeral purposes to ornament the fingers of the wooden model hands which were placed on the coffins of mummies of the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties. The model rings are made of faience with fine glazes of blue, green, and other colours, with various devices, incuse or in intaglio, upon the bezels, which are generally of oval form.
PHŒNICIAN JEWELLERY
As the inventors of methods and the creators of models which exercised a widespread influence in the development of subsequent types of ornaments, Egypt, and in a lesser degree Assyria also, occupies a position of considerable importance. The chief agents in the spreading of these methods and models were the Phœnicians, the first and foremost navigators of the ancient world, who imported jewels, among other articles of trade, into Italy and into the islands and mainland of Greece. Not by nature creative, but always copying those nations with whom in their wanderings they came in touch, the Phoenicians produced a native jewellery of composite type in which there is a perpetual mixture of Egyptian and Assyrian forms. As they had imitated Egypt and Assyria, so they began to imitate Greece as soon as they came into contact with her. The Greeks in return made great use at first of this composite style, but subsequently shook off its influence and incorporated it only after many modifications into their own developed art. The amphora—a form of ornament in goldsmith’s work which can be traced to Assyria—is one among many motives borrowed by the Phœnicians, and transmitted by them to Greece. From Egypt the Phœnicians acquired a high degree of technical skill and mastery over materials. This finish was transmitted to the finest Greek jewellery, and to the personal ornaments of the early Etruscans. The art of soldering gold to gold, which was known in Egypt at an early period, was greatly perfected and developed by the Phœnicians; and it is generally believed that they were the inventors of the process of decorating jewellery by granulation, that is by affixing to the surface minute globules of gold—a process which attained its perfection in the skilful hands of the Etruscan goldsmiths. The jewellery of the Phœnicians must be sought for from one end of the Mediterranean to the other, rather than in Phœnicia itself. It occurs chiefly in their settlements on the shores and islands of the Eastern Mediterranean, at Sardinia, Crete, and Rhodes, and on the southern coasts of Asia Minor, but the best and most numerous specimens have been found in Cyprus. In addition to the actual ornaments, special value attaches also to Phœnician sculptures, principally busts, both from Phœnicia itself and from its colonies, owing to the care with which personal ornaments and details of dress are represented. Several striking examples of these are preserved in the galleries set apart for Cyprian and Phœnician antiquities in the British Museum. The most famous of similar works, which include the sculptures from the “Cerro de los Santos,” near Yecla in the province of Albacete in Spain, now in the museum at Madrid, is the remarkable stone bust of a woman in the Louvre, known as the “Lady of Elché,” from a town of that name in the province of Alicante, where it was discovered in 1897 (Pl. II, 9). The majestic character of this figure, its sumptuous coiffure with clusters of tassels suspended by ten chains, the wheel-like discs that cover the ears, the triple row of necklaces with their urn-shaped pendants—all unite to produce an effect unequalled by any known statue of antiquity. Especially noticeable among these ornaments is the diadem which encircles the forehead and hangs down from each side in long pendants upon the shoulders. With this may be compared the chains hung at the ends of the golden fillet at Berlin, discovered by Schliemann at the pre-Mycenæan city of Hissarlik in the Troad, the ornate tasselled appendages at St. Petersburg, found with the famous Greek diadems in the tombs of the Crimea, and the elaborate head ornaments with pendent ends worn by Algerian women at the present day. The Phœnicians, as seen also by their sculptures, were addicted to the barbaric practice of piercing the upper parts of the ears, as well as the lobes, and attaching to them rings bearing drop-shaped pendants. Rings were also attached to the hair on each side of the face. They consist of a double twist which could be run through a curl of the hair, and are ornamented at one end with a lion’s or gryphon’s head. Of ordinary earrings worn by the Phoenicians the simplest is a plain ring. In the majority of cases the simple ring was converted into a hook and served to suspend various ornaments, of which baskets or bushels with grain in them afforded favourite motives. Examples of earrings of this kind, from Tharros in Sardinia, are in the British Museum.
Statues, like the Lady of Elché, show that Phœenician women wore three or four necklaces at the same time, one above the other; these vary in the size of their elements, from the small beads about the throat, to the large acorn-shaped pendants which hang low upon the breast. They display a striking admixture of Greek and Egyptian motives. Gold beads are often intermixed with small carnelian and onyx bugles, to which hang amphorae formed alternately of gold or crystal. The Phœenicians were particularly skilled in the manufacture of glass: occasionally the sole materials of their necklaces are beads of glass. A necklace from Tharros in Sardinia, now in the British Museum, is formed of beads of glass and gold; of its three gold pendants, the centre one is the head of a woman with Egyptian coiffure, and the two others lotus flowers. Finger rings are of all materials—gold, silver, bronze, and even glass. They are usually set with a scarab or scaraboid, fixed or revolving on a pivot. Silver is less common than gold; but in the British Museum is a ring of almost pure Greek workmanship from Cyprus which is entirely of silver, save for an exquisitely modelled golden fly that rests on the bezel. 10
CHAPTER II
GREEK JEWELLERY
Before dealing with Greek jewellery of the classic period some reference must be made to the primitive and archaic ornaments that preceded it. The period and phase of Greek culture to which the primitive ornaments belong is known widely as “Mycenæan”—a title it owes to the discoveries made at Mycenæe, where in 1876 Schliemann brought to light the famous gold treasure now preserved in the National Museum at Athens. A characteristic motive of the decoration of these objects is the use of spiral patterns almost identical with those employed on Celtic ornaments. Beside these and other primitive exhibitions of decorative skill, we find representations of naturalistic animal forms, such as cuttlefish, starfish, butterflies, and other creatures. These are displayed in repoussé patterns worked in low relief. Among the most notable objects are a number of gold crowns usually in the form of elongated oval plates ornamented with fine work chiefly in the shape of rosettes and spirals. Most numerous are the gold plates intended to be fastened to the dress. They are ornamented with spirals and radiating lines, with the above-mentioned animal forms, or with leaves showing the veins clearly marked (Pl. III, 1). Specially worthy of note also are the finger rings with the designs sunk into the oval surface of the bezel. Ornaments of this same epoch, like those in the British Museum from Ialysos in Rhodes, and Enkomi in Cyprus, have been discovered throughout the whole Ægean district. They are likewise mainly in the form of gold plates used for sepulchral purposes, ornamented with embossed patterns impressed from stone moulds. Some of them are enriched with fine granulation. This particular process, however, which abounds in Etruscan work, is more frequent on Greek ornaments of the archaic epoch, which dates roughly from about the seventh or eighth century B.C. The types of these, generally semi-Oriental in character, show the influence of Phœnician art, with its traces of gyptian and Assyrian feeling. Lions and winged bulls on some objects betray the Assyrian style; the treatment of the human figure displays on others the influence of Egypt. Among the best examples of this Græco-Phœnician jewellery are those found at Kameiros in Rhodes, and now in the Louvre and the British Museum. Between these and the fourth-century jewels from the Crimea to be described next, the only known Greek jewels are the quasi-Oriental ones from the tombs of Cyprus, which belong to about the fifth century. The jewellery of ancient Greece, which requires more detailed consideration, is that worn from the close of the fifth century onwards. The jewellery of the Greeks at this epoch was, like all their other works of art, of surpassing excellence, Gold was wrought with a skill which showed how well the artist appreciated the beauty of its colour and its distinctive qualities of ductility and malleability. The Greek craftsman was ever careful to keep the material in strict subordination to the workmanship, and not to allow its intrinsic worth so to dominate his productions as to obscure his artistic intention. The Greek goldsmiths excelled in the processes of repoussé, chasing, engraving, and of intaglio cutting on metal, and brought to great perfection the art of soldering small objects on to thin surfaces and joining together the thinnest metal plates. Granulated work, in which they were rivalled by the Etruscans alone, the Greeks practised with success, but preferred filigree ornamentation, that is the use of fine threads of gold twisted upon the surface with very delicate effect. Precious stones were very rarely used in the finest work, though on many of the post-Alexandrine jewels, stones such as garnets were frequently employed. Colour was obtained by a sparing use of enamel. The value of Greek jewellery lies in the use of gold and the artistic development of this single material. The minuteness of jewellery did not lead the Greeks to despise it as a field of labour. Whatever designs they borrowed from others the Greeks made their own and reproduced in a form peculiar to themselves. In other respects they went straight to nature, choosing simple motives of fruit, flowers, and foliage, united with a careful imitation of animal forms and of the human body. The objects we have to consider fall into two classes, according as they are either substantial articles for use or ornament in daily life, or mere flimsy imitations of them made only to be buried with the dead. As in the case of other nations of antiquity, the demands of Greek piety were satisfied if the dead were adorned with jewels made cheaply of leaves of stamped or bracteate gold. This course was followed mainly for the purpose of lessening expense; but it served also to obviate the chance of tombs being rifled by tomb robbers or tymborychoi, who practised a profession which was common in ancient times and offered large and certain profits. Jewels simply and entirely funereal occupy a prominent position in every public and private collection of Greek jewellery. The rarity of jewels for actual use may be further explained by the fact that articles of that kind would only be associated with the grave of a person of wealth and distinction, and that the more important graves were the first prey of robbers. The almost complete absence of specimens of jewellery from the mainland of Greece is due to those acts of pillage which continually took place at localities well known as cemeteries. Only in tombs concealed by their environment, or lost to sight in semi-barbarous countries, have sufficient ornaments been found for us to form an estimate of the perfection which this branch of the industrial arts then attained. The chief sources of these discoveries have been the Crimea, the Greek islands, the west coast of Asia Minor, and Southern Italy—known in ancient times as Magna Græcia. Of these districts by far the most important was that on the northern shore of the Black Sea, called formerly the Tauric Chersonese and now the Crimea, where in close proximity to the warlike Scythian tribes a Greek colony had settled as early as the sixth century before our era. Excavations made also in the adjacent peninsula of Taman have revealed numerous articles of gold, all belonging to the latter half of the fourth century. The wealth of gold on the shores of the Black Sea, which is the basis of the early Greek legends of the Golden Fleece, had attracted merchant adventurers at an early date. And the Greek goldsmiths who settled there forwarded their productions both to their mother-country and to the neighbouring lands of the barbarians. Excavations undertaken by the Russian Government near Kertch, the ancient Pantikapaion, gave rise to an important discovery in 1831, when the opening of the celebrated tumulus Koul-Oba revealed a magnificent display of Greek jewellery. These treasures, and others which the enterprise of the Russian Government has brought to light, are preserved at St. Petersburg in the Museum of the Hermitage. Italy, less systematically ravaged than Greece, has proved exceedingly rich in finds of antique jewellery. Except for a few scattered fragments from Greece proper and the other sources mentioned above, public and private cabinets, outside Russia, are made up almost exclusively of the results of excavations in the burial-places of Magna Graecia. In no ornament did the Greek jeweller exhibit his fertility of invention to a greater degree than in the variety and beauty of the forms given to earrings. They divide naturally into two classes. The first, the earlier, are ring-shaped, of two halves formed in a mould and united together. They terminate at one end with a human head—like that of a Mænad in a specimen in the British Museum—or more usually with the head of a lion, bull, or some other animal. To the second class belong those attached to the ear by a hook masked by a rosette or disc. From this hang one or more pendants of a variety of designs. In rare instances these consist of beads hung to little chains; but the logical sense of the ancients preferred for the purpose things that might be imagined as floating, such as a little figure of Eros, or a tiny Victory bearing a wreath. The place on the ring where the pendant is attached is almost invariably made prominent by a saucer-shaped rosette, a mask, or similar object ornamented with fine threads of gold. Opaque enamel, of white, blue, or green, is sometimes found applied thinly to the surface of the metal. Many earrings are of the most complicated design. When the ear-pendant was confined to a ring with a crescent-shaped lower part, this ornament would produce no effect except when the wearer was seen in profile. In order to make the ornament visible from the front, the idea suggested itself to hang the crescent ring on to a smaller one. Wonderfully well executed are some of the later Greek earrings in which small figures are attached directly to the hook which is inserted into the ear. Among these are figures of Eros playing a musical instrument or holding a jug as if pouring a libation. By the amplification of the appendages we find the simpler earrings assume such an immense increase in dimension as to make it impossible that they were attached to the lobe of the ear. It may be assumed that they were fastened to the diadem or frontlet, or to a plaited tress of hair, and hung over the ear, or more to the front over the temples. Naturally this species of ornament, owing to its weight and the many separate pieces of which it was made, would prevent the wearer from making any rapid movements, but was adapted to a slow and dignified pace in walking. It would also have the additional motive of increasing the commanding appearance of the individual. A splendid pair of head appendages of this character discovered at Kertch are now at St. Petersburg. They are composed of two large medallions representing the head of Athene, whose helmet is adorned with sphinxes and gryphons. From these are suspended several rows of amphora-shaped ornaments covered with fine filigree decoration. The decorating of the head with wreaths was a very common practice among the ancients on festive occasions of every description. The wreaths with which the dead were adorned for burial, made in imitation of natural leaves, form a large portion of funereal jewellery. One of the most famous of this species, found in 1813 at Armento (S. Italy), and purchased about 1826 by Ludwig I, King of Bavaria, from Countess Lipona (formerly Queen of Naples and wife of Joachim Murat) is now in the Antiquarium at Munich. Here the wreath, formed of roses, narcissus, myrtle and oak leaves, is enlivened by small figures of genii, while on the top is placed a statue with an inscription underneath it. This splendid specimen was probably employed for votive purposes. Dating from the third century B.C., and also from Magna Græcia, is the gold crown in the British Museum which was acquired from the collection of Count Tyszkiewicz in 1898 (Pl. V, 1). Being of more solid construction, though excessively light and elegant, this, and similarly elaborate crowns in the Louvre, were probably worn by ladies of high rank. In addition to these diadems composed of many minute parts, the simplest and probably the most usual form is that of a flat band increasing in breadth towards the middle, and ending there sometimes in a blunt point marked by a palmette. Pins that served the purpose of fastening up and decorating the hair vary in style, their heads being formed sometimes of flowers, and sometimes of animals or human figures, resembling those employed as pendants to earrings. Probably the most important is the handsome pin in the British Museum from Paphos in Cyprus (Pl. IV, 6). The head, surmounted with a bead of Egyptian porcelain with a pearl above, is in the form of a capital of a column. At the four corners are projecting heads of bulls, and between these are open cups or flowers, towards which four doves with outstretched wings bend down as if to drink. Typical necklaces of the best period consist of a chain about three-eighths of an inch in width, of closely plaited gold wire. From this are suspended numerous smaller chains, masked at the top by small rosettes and hung below with vases, spindle-shaped pieces, or a rhythmical combination of other ornaments covered with fine filigree. The British Museum possesses several superb necklaces. To the finest one, found in the island of Melos, colour is added by means of green and blue enamel (Pl. V, 3). Bracelets and armlets, which are rarer than necklaces, are of three forms: a fine plaited chain, like that of the necklaces, united by a clasp in the form of a knot; repoussé plaques hinged together , and a circlet of beaten gold of more solid construction. The primary object of the finger ring was its use as a convenient method of carrying the engraved stone which was to serve as a signet. Hence in early times more attention was paid to the engraving of the gem set in the ring than to its mounting. Many early rings are entirely of gold and made generally of one piece, with a large flat bezel engraved like a gem. A great number of them, though apparently solid, are hollow, and formed of gold leaf punched into shape and then filled up with mastic to preserve the form. The ornamental rings of the later Greeks have been found chiefly in the luxurious colonies of Magna Graecia. One of the most charming designs is in the shape of a serpent which coils itself many times round the finger, with its head and tail lying along the finger. It is worthy of remark that though a number of Greek rings are in existence, never in Greek art, as in Etruscan and Roman, do we find any representation of the human figure with rings on the fingers. In earlier times simple pins formed of gold wire appear to have been often employed to fasten the dress. Bow-shaped brooches were also worn, but few gold brooches are met with except those belonging to the later Greek ornaments. These are characterised by a small arched bow and a long sheath for the point of the pin decorated with designs in fine filigree. The goldsmith’s art is much more limited in its application to girdles than to head or neck ornaments; and yet, as is well known, girdles formed an important item in the dress of men and women. The girdle over which the long tunic hung in deep folds was often of simple cords with tassels affixed to the ends: thus Homer speaks of Hera as wearing a “zone from which Girdles appear to have been a hundred tassels hang.” mainly of soft ligaments, which probably, with the increase of luxury, were adorned with gold ornamentations. It is remarkable, at all events, that those species of gold ornament that can certainly be recognised as girdles are obvious imitations of textile fabrics. Corresponding to the ornaments found at Mycenæe which were employed by the primitive Greeks for decorating their garments are thin plates of gold, termed bracteœ, pierced with small holes, which served the later Greeks for similar purpose. They are repoussé, and have clearly been stamped with dies, for the designs on them show constant repetition. They are of various sizes and shapes, and it is evident that some were meant to be worn as single ornaments, while others, sewn on in lines, formed regular borders or designs on the robes. It is possible that, like the ballshaped buttons met with in many fanciful formations, some of more solid construction served the purpose of clasps that drew together the dress at intervals along the arm, and acted as fastenings at the neck or on the shoulder. Some attachments of this kind in the form of round discs, with their gold surface richly ornamented with filigree and also with enamel, may have been actual brooches and have had hinged pins affixed below.
CHAPTER III
ETRUSCAN JEWELLERY
The Etruscans appear to have had a peculiar passion for jewellery. Even in early times, when the excessive use of personal ornament was considered a mark of effeminacy, they were famed for their jewels. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, speaking of the Sabines, says that “they wore bracelets on their left arms, and rings, for they were a gold-wearing nation, and not less effeminate than the Etruscans.” Like most other nations of antiquity, the Etruscans dedicated to the service of the dead costly articles of adornment which they had worn when living; though the greater number of these jewels are flimsy objects made for mortuary purposes. On Etruscan sarcophagi the men have torques about their necks, while the women have sometimes torques, sometimes necklaces, long earrings, and bracelets, and both sexes have many rings on their fingers. Though systematically rifled in former times, Etruscan tombs have yet preserved to the present day a large number of jewels, sufficient to prove that the possibilities of gold were never more thoroughly grasped than by the Etruscans. Their earlier jewellery—for the later is much coarser—shows extraordinary fineness and elaboration of workmanship. They possessed a peculiar art of fusing and joining metals by the use of solvents unknown to us, which rendered invisible the traces of solder. Surface decoration was produced by the interweaving of extremely delicate threads of gold, by a sparing use of enamel, and particularly by the soldering together of particles or globules of gold of such minuteness and equality as to be scarcely perceptible to the naked eye. Animal or human forms were skilfully executed in relief by repoussé, or produced in the round with the assistance of solder. But the chief characteristic of their jewellery, and that which mainly distinguishes it from the Greek, is its ornamentation with grains of gold of microscopic size. The method of decorating the surface of gold with fine granules, which is usually termed granulation, is one which was in favour among all ancient gold workers in the countries bordering on the Mediterranean. The “pulvisculus aureus”, as it was called in Italy, came into common use towards the close of the Mycenæan Age, at a time when the Phœnicians were making their influence felt in Cyprus, Sardinia, and Etruria, where examples of this method of gold working particularly abound. We are probably right in assuming that this granulated work was indigenous to the Eastern Mediterranean, and that, as it has been found upon jewels of undoubted Phœenician origin, the Phœnicians were not uninstrumental in disseminating it along their trade routes. Cellini, in his description of the process of granulation in his Trattato dell Oreficeria, speaks of each grain being made separately and soldered on, a technique probably practised by the ancient jewellers. But in the case of the minutest Etruscan work, it is not improbable that the grains—at first natural, though subsequently artificial—were sprinkled like dust over the parts of the surface which had to be covered. This fine granulation belongs only to the early and best Etruscan jewels. Larger grains were used for later work. It is remarkable that the secrets of the old Etruscan goldsmiths have never been wholly recovered in Europe. That the art of granulation, though mentioned by Cellini, was not generally practised by the goldsmiths of the Renaissance is evident from the examples of their work that have survived. In recent years attempts have been made to revive the art; but as the well-known productions of Castellani the elder, with his sons Alessandro the connoisseur and Augusto, and of Carlo Giuliano, are connected with the later history of jewellery, further reference will be made to them subsequently. As might be expected, important collections of Etruscan jewellery are preserved in museums close to the sites where the objects themselves have been discovered. One of the most extensive of such collections is that in the museum of the Vatican, which was brought together by Pope Gregory XVI from the districts which till 1870 formed part of the papal domain. The British Museum, the Louvre, and the museums of Berlin and Munich all contain a large number of ornaments from the old cemeteries of the Etruscan races. The earliest Etruscan jewellery coincides roughly with Greek work of the late Mycenæan period, and betrays, from the religious symbols expressed on it, a marked Oriental or Egyptian influence. At a somewhat later date, that is from about 5oo to 300 B.C., it is evident that the Etruscans largely followed Greek models, or imported from Greece, especially from Ionia, some of the finest artists in the precious metals. Etruscan jewellery can then be divided into three distinct styles: the primitive, somewhat Oriental in character, and of fine but not artistically attractive work; the later, when the primitive art had been subjected to Hellenic influence and produced work of the highest artistic and technical excellence; and the latest style, in which Greek art, still followed, but in a vulgarised form, results in ornaments noticeable for their size and coarseness of execution. The Etruscans appear to have paid particular attention to the decoration of the head. Following a custom in vogue throughout Greece, men as well as women adorned themselves with fillets; while women also wore highly ornate hair-pins, with heads shaped like balls, acorns, and pomegranates, decorated in granulation. Many of these pins must have served to fix the diadems and fillets for which the Etruscans appear to have had an especial liking. The latter are composed for the most part of the foliage of myrtle, ivy, and oak, in accordance with the symbolical ideas attached to these leaves. The greater number are of plate of gold, so thin and fragile that they can only have been employed as sepulchral ornaments—like the wreath of ivy leaves and berries of thin gold still encircling the bronze helmet from Vulci in the Room of Greek and Roman Life in the British Museum, and a similar wreath of bracteate gold around a conical bronze helmet in the Salle des Bijoux Antiques of the Louvre. arrings of the finest period bear a striking similarity to Greek ornaments of the same date. The first type is penannular in shape, one end terminating in the head of a bull or lion, and the other in a point which pierces the ear. To this ring is next attached a pendant. In the third type the hook which pierces the ear is hidden by a rosette or disc from which hang tassel-shaped appendages, and in the middle between them small animals enamelled white, such as the geese, swans, and cocks in the British Museum, and the peacocks and doves in the Campana Collection in the Louvre. Earrings of another class are saddleshaped, formed like an imperfect cylinder, one end of which is closed by an open-work rose cap, which completely enclosed the lobe of the wearer’s ear. The latest Etruscan earrings, of pendant form, are mostly of great size and in the shape of convex bosses. In examining the very primitive necklaces and other ornaments that have been discovered in various tombs in Italy, especially in Etruria and Latium, the extraordinary abundance of amber at once attracts attention. The amber of this ancient jewellery of Italy has accessories, sometimes of gold, and more frequently of silver, or else of an alloy of gold and silver termed electrum. A noteworthy early necklace of these materials found at Præneste, and now in the British Museum, is composed of amber cylinders, and pendent vases alternately of amber and electrum (Pl. VI, 2). Though the majority of Etruscan necklaces aim at largeness of display, some are as delicate and refined as the best Greek ornaments. From a round plaited chain in the British Museum hangs a single ornament—the mask of a faun whose hair, eyebrows, and wavy beard are worked with fine granulation; another pendant is a negro’s head on which the granules are disposed with exquisite skill to represent the short woolly hair (Pl. VI, 5). Finer even than either of these—and a remarkable example of the combination of the two processes of filigree and granulation—is a neck pendant in the form of a mask of Dionysos (Bacchus) in the Campana Collection in the Louvre. On this the curls of hair over the forehead are represented by filigree spirals, while the beard is worked entirely in the granulated method. A large number of necklaces have evidently been produced simply for sepulchral purposes, for they are composed, like the majority of crowns, of the thinnest bracteate gold in the shape of rosettes and studs strung together. The chief characteristic of Etruscan necklaces is their ornamentation with pendent bullæ. The bulla, from the Latin word meaning a bubble, was usually made of two concave plates of gold fastened together so as to form a globe—lentoid or vase-shaped—within which an amulet was contained. In Etruscan art both men and women are represented wearing necklaces and even bracelets formed of bulla. Occasionally, instead of a bulla, is some such object as the tooth or claw of an animal, or a small primitive flint arrow-head, which served as an amulet. Of bracelets of primitive work are a famous pair in the British Museum, which were discovered in a tomb at Cervetri (Cære). They are composed of thin plates of gold measuring 8 inches in length by 24 inches in width, divided into six sections, ornamented with scenes thoroughly Assyrian in character, indicated by lines of microscopic granulations (Pl. VII, 4). Etruscan fibulae of gold are generally formed of a short arc-shaped bow and a long sheath for the pin decorated with minute granular work. Upon the upper surface are often rows of small models of animals. Upon the sheath of a large early fibula found at Cervetri (Cære), and now in the British Museum, is a double row of twenty-four standing lions (Pl. VII, 1). The bow of the later fibulae is sometimes in the form of a single figure, as that of a crouching lion. A considerable number of small fibulæe of this type appear to have been worn in rows down the seam of the dress. Two series of these, the one numbering twenty-one and the other thirty-nine, both found in a tomb at Vulci, are in the Louvre. The Etruscans appear to have had a special love for rings; every finger, including the thumb, was covered with them, and a considerable number have been discovered in the tombs. The majority are composed of scarabs mounted much in the same style as those of the Egyptians. One of the finest Etruscan rings in the British Museum is formed by two lions, whose bodies make up the shank, their heads and fore-paws supporting a bezel in filigree which holds the signet stone—a small scarabæus charged with a lion regardant. Another remarkable class of Etruscan rings has large oval bezels measuring upwards of an inch and a half across. These are set with an engraved gem, and have wide borders ornamented with various designs. An example in the British Museum shows a pattern formed of dolphins and waves.
CHAPTER IV
ROMAN JEWELLERY
The foundation of the designs of Roman jewellery is to be found among the ornaments of the ancient Latin and Etruscan races which Rome subdued. That there is considerable resemblance also between Roman and Greek jewellery is natural, for the Romans, having plundered first Sicily and Southern Italy, and then Greece itself, induced Greek workmen with more refined instincts than their own to eke out a precarious living as providers of luxurious ornaments. It is worthy of remark that, owing to various causes, Greek and Etruscan jewellery has survived in considerably greater quantity, than has that from the much more luxurious times of the Roman Empire. It is customary to associate Roman jewellery with a degree of luxury which has not been surpassed in ancient or modern times. Roman moralists, satirists and comic poets refer again and again to the extravagance of their own day. The first named, from a sombre point of view, condemn the present to the advantage of the past; and the others, with a distorted view, study exceptional cases, and take social monstrosities as being faithful representations of the whole of society. Under the Republic nearly all ornaments were worn for official purposes, and the wearing of precious stones was prohibited except in rings; but in imperial times they were worn in lavish profusion, and successive emperors, by a series of sumptuary laws, attempted to check the progress of this extravagance. Many instances might be quoted of excessive luxury in the use of precious stones, like that of the lady described by Pliny, who at a simple betrothal ceremony was covered with pearls and emeralds from head to foot. Yet Roman luxury was not without its parallel in later ages. For in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries we read how at court the women carried their whole fortunes in a single dress. Further, as far as can be judged, the personal ornaments of the ancients were for the most part subject to much less frequent change of fashion than is inevitable under the social conditions of more modern times. With regard to ornaments of the head, diadems and fillets were much worn. Ladies of the Roman Empire dressed their hair in the most elaborate manner, and adorned it with pearls, precious stones, and other ornaments. For fixing their head-dresses, and for arranging the hair, they made use of long hair-pins. A gold specimen preserved in the British Museum is upwards of eight inches in length; it has an octagonal shaft crowned with a Corinthian capital, on which stands a figure of Aphrodite (Pl. VIII, 3). Pearls were in particular favour as ornaments for the ears. Introduced into Rome about the time of Sulla, pearls were imported in large quantities during the Roman domination of Egypt. In Vespasians time Pliny, referring to earrings, says: “They seek for pearls at the bottom of the Red Sea, and search the bowels of the earth for emeralds to decorate their ears.” Perfect spherical pearls of delicate whiteess were termed uniones (i.e. unique), since no two were found exactly alike. Pear-shaped pearls, called elenchi, were prized as suitable for terminating the pendant, and were sometimes placed two or three together for this purpose. Thus worn, they were entitled crotalia (rattles), from the sound produced as they clashed together. “Two pearls beside each other,” Seneca complains, “with a third on the top now go to a single pendant. The extravagant fools probably think their husbands are not sufficiently plagued without their having two or three heritages hanging down from their ears.” Earrings with single pendants were called stalagmia. It is especially to be noticed that the shapes of all ancient jewellery and ornaments, particularly those of the Romans, were in a great measure decided by a belief in their magical efficiency. The wearing of amulets was most frequent among the Romans of all classes. They were generally enclosed in a bulla, and suspended from the neck. A remarkable specimen of a bulla, found at Herculaneum, and presented by the Court of Naples to the Empress Josephine, is now in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford. The lentoid-shaped bulla was worn almost entirely by children, but other pendants, shaped like pendent vases, or in the form of a square or cylindrical box, were a not unusual ornament of the necklace of Roman ladies. They probably always possessed a symbolical meaning. The simple neck-chain, whether supplied with the appendage or not, was called a monile; the luxury of latter times doubled or trebled the rows of chains. These were often of finely plaited gold or else of links. Other necklaces were composed of mounted precious stones, the fashion for which appears to date from the Oriental conquests of Pompey in the first century B.C. Vast quantities of precious stones were brought into Rome at that date; for the treasury of Mithridates, captured at Talaura, contained, besides many other precious objects, “jewels for the breast and neck all set with gems.” The Romans also wore necklaces (monilia baccata) composed of beads of various materials, both precious stones and glass, of many colours and various shapes. Amber was largely employed for the purpose, and held in high estimation by Roman ladies, who regarded it not only as an ornament, but as a talisman for protection against danger, especially witchcraft. Amber in which small insects were enclosed was particularly prized : “the price,” says Pliny, “of a small figure in it, however diminutive, exceeds that of a living healthy slave.” Both cameos and large intaglios were in frequent use as pendent ornaments, and in the most recent pieces of Roman jewellery imperial gold coins were employed for rings, bracelets, and especially for pendants to necklaces. For the latter purpose they are not infrequently found set in opus interrasile—the openwork characteristic of late Roman jewellery. The best example of cameos and coins mounted thus is a necklace in the Cabinet des Médailles at Paris3. In the case of bracelets (armillæ), which were favourite ornaments among the Romans, two kinds have to be noticed. The first, termed dextrocherium, was meant to be worn round the right wrist, and follows the same rules of formation as the necklace, but no pendent motives are introduced. Other bracelets are formed of two rounded halves of solid character, hinged, and closed by a snap. The second kind of bracelet or armlet, worn on the upper arm, was the brachiale or torques brachialis; another was the spinther, which kept its place on the arm by its own elasticity. The difference, however, between the different Latin terms for the armlet is somewhat obscure. Originally of pure gold, bracelets were subsequently set with precious stones and engraved gems, and, like the specimen in the Imperial Cabinet at Vienna, with coins dating from the third century A.D. The serpent form appears to have been a favourite one among Roman ladies, and a fine pair of armlets of this design are in the Victoria and Albert Museum (Pl. VIII, 11). The Romans appear to have been more extravagant in their rings than any other people. Very few ornamental rings are earlier in date than the time of the Empire, when the passion for gold rings adorned with precious stones and engraved gems seems to have pervaded all classes; and it reached such extravagance that Martial speaks of a man who wore six on every finger, and recommends another who had one of monstrous size to wear it on his leg instead of his hand. Some individuals, we learn, had different sets of rings for summer and winter, those for the latter season being too heavy for hot weather. Their weight was sometimes very great, and it is not to be wondered that complaint was made of their liability to slip off when the finger was greasy at a meal. Even until the latest times the ring retained its original purpose as a means of distinction or of recognition, and was used by its wearer to impress his seal on documents and private property. It continued also to be associated with the idea of power and privilege especially bestowed upon the individual. Thus the Roman paterfamilias wore on his finger a ring with a small key attached. Every Roman appears to have chosen at pleasure the subject or device for his signeta portrait of a friend or an ancestor, or some subject from poetry or mythology. Each of these devices became associated with a particular person, and served, like the coat-of-arms of later centuries, as a mark of identification. The commonest variety of ring is formed of a plain band of gold which widens and thickens towards the bezel, and is set with a small stone. The latter is generally engraved, but is often quite plain. The similarity of the convex sardonyx to an eye often struck the ancients, and may account for this stone being frequently found unengraved in rings, and set in a collet, itself shaped into the form of a human eye. Such rings were no doubt worn as amulets. Rings containing stones set in this manner have sometimes a flattened hoop and open-work shoulders. Other distinctly ornamental rings, known by the Romans as polypsephi, are formed of two or more rings united together. A large number of Roman rings are of bronze, and the key rings referred to are, with a very few exceptions, of this material. Iron and bronze rings were not infrequently gilded. Such rings, according to Pliny, were called Samothracian. Rings in the form of snakes were very popular, as were those shaped like a Herculean knot. Like other articles of jewellery, rings are sometimes set with gold coins of the late Empire. A few ornamental rings have high pyramidal bezels which were sometimes hollow, and were made to contain poison. Hannibal killed himself with a dose of poison which he carried about with him in his ring; so did the officer in charge of the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. “Being arrested,” says Pliny, “he broke the stone of his ring between his teeth and expired on the spot.”
CHAPTER V
BYZANTINE JEWELLERY
The peculiar interest of Byzantine jewellery lies, not only in its own composite nature, but in the great influence it exercised on European ornaments during the greater part of the Middle Ages. Byzantine jewellery is the result of a compromise between Oriental and Western influences. It retains the craftsmanship of ancient Rome and the dignity of classical traditions modified by Christian ideas, and to these it unites the skill in patient and exuberant decoration in which the Oriental workman excels. The new era, inaugurated in 330 A.D. by the transfer by Constantine of the seat of empire to the old colony of Byzantium, was marked at first by a retention of the Greek and Latin influences; but the quantities of pearls and precious stones that passed through Constantinople, the highway of commerce between Europe and the East, soon rendered the workmen of the Empire susceptible to the magnificence of Oriental decoration. Owing to the irruption of Oriental ideas in the sixth century consequent on the sack of Antioch by the Persians and the conquests of Belisarius, splendour of material began to supersede the refinement of classical times. This tendency is admirably displayed on the rich mosaics of the period, especially those in the church of San Vitale at Ravenna in Italy, which represent the Emperor Justinian and his wife Theodora. The Empress and her attendants are clothed in robes stiffened with gold and set with precious stones; pearls, rubies, and emeralds encircle her neck and shoulders, and, entirely covering her head, hang down from the temples in rich festoons upon the breast. Justinian also has a diadem upon his head, and a purple and gold embroidered mantle fastened with a monstrous fibula hung with triple pendants. The outbreak of iconoclasm in the eighth century had its influence on jewellery in causing the banishment of forms ornamented with the proscribed figures. But the iconoclastic movement was also of very great importance, since many goldsmiths driven from their country by the decrees of Leo III established themselves in Italy, Germany, and Gaul, carrying with them the processes and designs of Byzantine art. The restoration of images by Basil the Macedonian in the ninth century opened an important period of revival of industry and art, which lasted until the sack of Constantinople by the Crusaders in 1204. The active overland trade with India which had been kept up for many years, with no small influence on the ornaments of the West, was much augmented; while the commercial relations with Persia were maintained. It was during the period from the tenth century onwards that the influence of Byzantine art was most strongly felt in the West, owing to the connection which was established between the German court and Constantinople, through the marriage of the Emperor Otho II with the Byzantine Princess Theophano, daughter of Romanus, in 972. A considerable proportion of Byzantine ornaments, as shown by the mosaics, consisted of gems sewn upon the dress. Actual specimens of jewellery are naturally of considerable rarity. The British Museum contains a small but representative collection.4 They show a difference from the jewels of classical times chiefly in the substitution of coarse repoussé and open-work—the opus interrasile of later Roman work—for fine filigree and granulation; yet filigree was employed with skill, and exercised a considerable influence on the work of European craftsmen. In general form the ornaments of the Lower Empire retained the character of ancient work, but added to it fresh designs to suit the change of religion with its accompanying symbolism. Enamel and coloured stones, employed with a certain reserve in antique ornaments, now formed the chief artistic aspect of jewellery. Cloisonné inlay, that is to say the incrustation of glass or garnet in cells, was made use of, but cloisonné enamel was preferred. In the majority of ornaments, however, precious stones appear to have predominated.5 As ornaments for the head, wreaths were worn, especially upon festal occasions. From the earliest Christian times the bride and bridegroom at their wedding wore, as in some countries at the present day, crowns of gold, silver, green leaves, or flowers, which were afterwards returned to the church. Early Byzantine earrings naturally follow the Roman patterns. Some take the form of a penannular wire loop holding a thimble-shaped cage of filigree, the flat end of which is closed, and has in the centre a setting for a precious stone. The majority of Byzantine earrings are, however, of a peculiar design. The most usual type, from the sixth century onwards, is crescentshaped, formed of gold repoussé and open-worked in the form of a cross patée within a circle, supported on either side by peacocks confronted. Dating from the finest period, i.e. about the twelfth century, is a pair of earrings in the British Museum, in the shape of a segment of a circle, ornamented on both sides with figures of birds in blue, green, and white cloisonné enamel. Upon the outer border of each segment are pearls fixed upon radiating pins, alternating with pyramids of pellets; on the inner is a disc decorated with similar enamels. The cross is naturally the most favourite of pendants; yet this symbol does not appear to have been commonly worn on the person till about the fifth century. Among the most interesting pectoral crosses in the British Museum is one inscribed with a text from Galatians VI. 14; upon its arms and lower part are rings for pendent gems, and in the centre the setting for a stone. Another cross, ornamented with nielloed6 figures of our Lord, the Virgin, and two angels or military saints, has the name of its owner inscribed at the back. Both date from about the tenth or eleventh century. One of the finest and the best known of such ornaments is the gold and enamelled pectoral cross in the Victoria and Albert Museum, known as the Beresford-Hope Cross. This remarkable specimen of Byzantine jewellery, dating from about the eighth century, is formed of two cruciform plates of gold, hinged so as to form a reliquary, and set in a silver-gilt frame of later workmanship than the cross itself. The figures upon it, executed in translucent cloisonné enamel, represent on one part the Saviour on the cross, with busts of the Virgin and St. John on either side, and on the other a full-length figure of the Virgin and the heads of four saints (Pl. IX, 8). Jewellery ornamented in this manner is of great rarity; being executed nearly always upon pure gold, it has seldom escaped the crucible. Judging from the mosaics, as, for example, the portraits of Justinian in the churches of San Vitale and Sant’ Apollinare Nuovo at Ravenna, brooches of the circular type appear to have been generally worn. Their chief characteristic was the presence of three chains set with jewels attached to them by loops. Coins, as in Roman times, were frequently mounted as brooches in a beaded or open-work edging. Bow-shaped brooches were worn, but not after the sixth century. Three inscribed examples of about the fourth century, one of them of gold, are in the British Museum. Similar in workmanship to the crescent-shaped earrings described above, and of about the same date, is a remarkable gold bracelet in the Franks Bequest. It is formed of an open-work hoop decorated with swans and peacocks enclosed in scrolls issuing from a vase. A circular medallion with a repoussé bust of the Virgin forms the clasp. Finger rings have survived in greater numbers than other Byzantine ornaments. The majority are figured with the beautiful symbolism of the Christian belief. Some are set with engraved gems, but on most the design is produced by the more simple process of engraving the metal of which the ring is composed. In early Christian times rings were often offered as presents, and were engraved with expressions of goodwill towards the recipient, whose name is sometimes mentioned. The British Museum contains a somewhat extensive collection of these rare objects in gold. Bronze, often gilded, is naturally the commoner material. Silver appears to have been scarcely ever employed. The interest of the majority of Byzantine rings arises rather from the subjects with which they are associated, than from the quality of their workmanship. There is, however, in the British Museum a very beautiful example of pierced gold work in the form of a key ring with projecting tongue, of a kind much used in Roman times, which opened the lock by lifting a latch. Upon the front of a wide hoop are the words Accipe dulcis, in letters reserved in metal in a pierced ground. The remainder of the hoop is divided into compartments, each containing one letter of the inscription Multis annis. Above the inscription, in front, is a rectangular projection, perhaps for insertion into a lock. It is finely pierced with a design in the form of Greek crosses (Pl. IX, 10). The sack of Constantinople by the French and Venetians dealt the death-blow to Byzantine art. Until well into the thirteenth century the Byzantine goldsmiths continued to exercise an important influence on their contemporaries, and transmitted to the artists of mediæval Europe such of the processes and designs of antique art as they had preserved. Their intercourse was closest with Russia, whose jewellery for centuries, even up to the present day, has followed the designs of the old Byzantine workmen.

CHAPTER VI
PREHISTORIC (CELTIC) JEWELLERY
ROMANO-BRITISH JEWELLERY
The early ornaments of the greater part of Europe remained until late times entirely untouched by the culture prevalent in Italy and Greece. Though of great archaeological importance, as revealing successive stages of culture, they do not at the present demand very detailed consideration. The decoration of the earliest jewellery of Europe—that of the Bronze Age, which dates roughly from about a thousand years before the Christian era—is by means of spiral and zigzag patterns. Ornaments have free endings, bent in spiral, snail-shell coils. The earliest were cast, though the hammer was used towards the close of the period; solder was unknown, and rivets alone employed. Gold and bronze were the only metals employed, the latter being sometimes gilt by means of thin gold plates, while amber is often found used as a jewel. Some idea of these early ornaments can be formed from the discoveries of objects worn by the ancient inhabitants of the British Isles. They are, however, not very numerous or important until after the Bronze Age, and until the Early Iron Age—known in England as the Late Celtic period—is reached. The ornaments of the Britons—that is to say the Brythons or iron-using Celts—before they became subject to Rome are somewhat rare, for few objects of value were buried in graves. Such as have been found comprise bronze pins, brooches, torques, and bracelets; beads of amber, jet, bone, and glass, and bracelets also of jet. Golden ornaments, like those laid bare by Schliemann at Mycenæ, concealed either as votive offerings or for the sake of security, have been brought to light from time to time, occasionally in England and more frequently in Ireland. Celtic literature and legend are full of references to these golden ornaments, and classical writers often make mention of them. The simplest types of gold ornaments discovered in England are rings formed of a rounded bar of equal thickness throughout, bent into a circular form, and the extremities left disunited. Their material is gold, so pure and flexible that the rings can be easily opened to be linked into a chain or strung upon a thin gold wire. They were very probably employed for barter, and are generally known as “ring-money.” Other rings, crescentshaped, with ends tapering towards their extremities, may have served both as ornaments and substitutes for money. Others, again, are of gold wire shaped into a sort of rope, or else formed of a simple bar twisted in an ornamental manner. It has been suggested that the simple penannular rings were nose-ornaments, and when linked or strung together were worn as necklaces; also that the more decorative rings were earrings. But it is quite impossible to determine their actual use as personal ornaments. Massive torques employed by the Celts for the purpose of adorning the neck are occasionally found of pure gold. They consist of a long piece of metal twisted and turned into the form of a circle, with its ends either terminating in a knob, or doubled back in the form of a short hook, or swelling out into cuplike terminations. Some are formed of a square bar of gold twisted spirally, others of a flat bar twisted in a lighter manner, or of more than one bar twisted together. Gold ornaments for the arms, known by the term armillæ, are sometimes of the same thickness throughout. It is more usual to find them plain, though twisted work was also applied to them. The majority have dilated ends, or ends slightly concave. With others, again, these cavities assume the form of a cup so expanded as to present the appearance of a trumpet or the calyx of a large flower. On ornaments somewhat resembling the latter the dilated extremities are flat plates, while the connecting part, diminutive in proportion to their exaggerated size, is striated longitudinally. These objects are usually described as dress-fasteners, but the exact purpose for which they were employed is still a matter of doubt. Advanced skill in the art of enamelling is one of the most notable features of the Late Celtic period, which itself extended from the prehistoric Age of Iron and over the period of the Roman occupation. This enamel, executed by the champlevé process on copper and bronze, served for the decoration of massive bronze penannular bracelets, and for bronze pins with wheel-shaped heads. In addition to brooches—all of the safety-pin type—of an immense variety of design, other primitive bronze ornaments, usually of the spiral form characteristic of Celtic work, include torques, armlets, and anklets. The torques are mostly penannular and have enlarged terminals; the armlets are often complete rings. For the most extensive representation of the prehistoric gold ornaments of the British Isles one must look, not to England, whose inhabitants generally assumed the types of ornament in use among their Roman conquerors, but to Ireland, where the Celtic traditions were continued, and which has revealed vast hoards of golden treasure. In Celtic England during the Bronze and Early Iron Ages the majority of personal ornaments are of bronze; in Ireland, however, at the same periods the greater number are of gold. The objects belonging to the Royal Irish Academy in the Dublin Museum—perhaps the largest collection in Europe of prehistoric gold ornaments—represent merely a fraction of what, during the last few hundred years, has been discovered and consigned to the crucible. Usually described as head-ornaments are certain crescent or moon-shaped plates of thin gold, generally decorated with engraved designs in parallel lines, with angular lines between them, and having their extremities formed into small flat circular discs. These gold lunettes or lunulæ are considered to have been worn upright on the head and held in position by the terminal plates set behind the ears,7 but they were very probably worn round the neck. The finest at Dublin is of pure gold, weighing upwards of sixteen ounces, and is richly ornamented with rows of conical studs. Torques are the most frequent of ancient Irish ornaments. The largest known, over 5 feet long and upwards of 27 ounces in weight, is supposed to have been worn over the shoulder and across the breast. It is the property of the Royal Irish Academy. In addition to torques and gorgets, neck-ornaments were also formed of beads of gold, and some of these have been found accompanied by beads of amber. Besides torque-shaped armlets, are bracelets composed of perfect rings; but the penannular type, terminating mostly with bulbous or cup-like ends, is commonest. A considerable number of the prehistoric dressfasteners, known as mammillary fibulæ, have been discovered in Ireland. A slight enlargement of the ends of the penannular ring develops into a cup-like expansion, which increases to such a size that the ring becomes simply the connecting link between the terminations. The latter when flat are generally plain, and when cup-shaped are often highly ornamented. The finest of these fibulæe at Dublin is 83/8 inches long, and is of the extraordinary weight of 33 ounces. Among other gold ornaments are certain circular flat plates of thin gold, usually about 21/4 inches in diameter, somewhat similar to the plates discovered at Mycenæ, in that they were evidently employed for sewing upon the dress. In the middle of the plates are small holes as if for attachment. As regards “ring-money,” and similar rings employed possibly as ornaments for the ears or fingers, nothing more need be said, as they usually follow the designs of those in use among the Celts of Britain. In a country like Ireland, which is famed for its golden treasures, many strange stories of discoveries have been recorded; yet few have excited greater interest than the now famous Limavady treasure, which in the year 1896 was ploughed up at Broighter, near Limavady, in the county of Londonderry, in a field not far from the shores of Lough Foyle. This hoard—probably the most important which has ever been unearthed of objects of this period—has been fully described by Dr. A. J. Evans in Vol. LV of Archæologia. It includes the following personal ornaments: two gold chains, a torque formed of thick twisted wires, and collar of very remarkable workmanship. This collar consists of a hollow cylinder formed of two plates soldered together, and fastened at the end by a T-shaped projection and slot. The ornament is repoussé work, in the trumpet pattern of the Late Celtic period. The style of work upon these ornaments, particularly that of the collar, associates them with an artistic period which probably dates from the first century A.D. The year following its discovery the whole find was purchased by the British Museum, where its presence at once figured as “another injustice to Ireland”; while through the Press and in Parliament numerous attempts were made to obtain its removal to Dublin. The Irish claimed it as treasure-trove, and maintained that its legal home was the National Museum at Dublin. The British Museum authorities replied that Dublin had missed an opportunity of obtaining it in open market; while they themselves, having acquired it in the ordinary course of business, were precluded by statute from parting with it. They further contended that the ornaments were not necessarily of Irish workmanship, but might with equal likelihood have been produced in Britain. Thus for several years the dispute dragged on, until in the summer of 1903 the case came up in the Chancery Division of the Courts of Law. (Attorney General v. Trustees of British Museum. The Times Law Reports, XIX, p. 555.) Notwithstanding the ingenious defence of the British Museum, judgment was given that the ornaments were treasure-trove, and by virtue of the Prerogative Royal must be surrendered to the King. They were accordingly delivered to the Crown authorities, and presented to the Irish National Museum by His Majesty.
ROMANO-BRITISH
Whatever races settled under the banner of Rome, they accepted unreservedly its ornaments, dress, and manners, as well as its language and its laws. Hence the jewellery which dates from the Roman occupation of Britain (i.e. from about 43 A.D. to about 410 A.D.) follows for the most part the Italian designs, and at the same time differs but little from that brought to light among the remains of Roman colonisation elsewhere. The majority of Romano-British personal ornaments are of bronze—in most cases probably once gilt. Comparatively few objects of gold have been found. Among the articles of female adornment that occur in the greatest abundance are pins, which were used for fixing the hair in a knot behind the head, though some may have been employed as dress-pins. They range from 3 to 9 inches in length, and have heads of various designs, terminating in some instances in a bust or in a figure. The majority are of bone, many are of bronze, and a few are composed of coloured glass or jet. A few necklaces of gold and bronze have been found, but by far the greater number appear to have been composed of beads of glass—in the manufacture of which the Romans displayed remarkable skill. These necklaces differ considerably in form and colour. The commonest beads are spherical and pierced with a large hole. They are usually of one colour, generally blue, but some are of compound colours exquisitely blended, and a few have a serpentine ornament fused into the glass. Beads of amber, pearls, and glazed earthenware have also been found. A characteristic of Roman jewels executed in Britain is their ornamentation with enamels. The metal employed is generally bronze, the surface of which is ornamented by the champlevé process; that is to say, it is incised or grooved out (though sometimes stamped or cast) in such a manner as to leave floral or geometrical patterns in relief, and into the sunk spaces thus formed are fused opaque enamels, principally red, yellow, green, blue, and white. This enamelling is generally found upon brooches both of the circular and of the bow-shaped type. The fronts of the circular brooches are flat, or raised like a shield into several compartments of different colours. The pin, which is hidden, moves freely on a pivot, and its point is held by a catch. The finest specimen, discovered in London, was formerly in the collection of Lord Hastings, from whom it was acquired by the British Museum. It is a circular flat plaque, the pattern on which consists of four quatrefoils with blue centres on a red ground, and four small circles of yellow enamel between them. In the centre is the revolving figure of a dolphin (Pl. XI, 7). Brooches enamelled in a somewhat similar manner have been found in France at Mont Beuvray, near Autun, and are preserved in the Musée des Antiquités Nationales at St. Germain.8 Quite different are certain ornaments set with slices cut from rods of millefiori glass, which were executed for the most part during the decline of the Roman power. One of the most elaborate is a brooch found at Pont-y-Saison, near Chepstow, Monmouthshire, in 1861, and preserved among other Romano-British antiquities in the British Museum. It has an elaborate pattern of chequered squares of red, white, and blue (Pl. XI, 6). Brooches of the Gallo-Roman and early Merovingian period appear to have been also decorated in this manner. Of bow-shaped brooches, or fibulæ, there exists a considerable number of varieties. Among these we may distinguish the T-shaped fibula with long cylindrical head, and a wide flat bow with sunk designs filled with enamel. In another variety the bow passes through a horizontal disc in its centre and assumes a form resembling a tassel. Another common variety is the crossbow form, either with a spiral or hinged head. In many Roman fibulae the pin works on a hinge, but in the variety known as the harp-shaped, the sheath of the pin is filled in with a triangular plate, pierced or solid, and the head is slightly expanded to suit the coils of a spring. In addition to the more formal types of brooches, many fancy devices, probably of Celtic origin, appear to have been in vogue among the Roman colonists of Great Britain. These are in the shape of birds, fish, and all kinds of animals, brilliant with various coloured enamels, which are often so disposed as to indicate the spots or markings of the animals. A remarkable series of brooches of this kind is in the possession of Sir John Evans. Bracelets and armlets, usually of bronze, have survived in large numbers. They consist generally of a simple narrow ring, such as could be slipped over the wrist. Some are pennanular with tapering ends, others are closed with a hook and eye, while a few have their ends so twisted together that they can slide over one another and so be taken on and off. Armlets of glass, chiefly of a deep transparent blue, have also been found. Most of the varieties of finger rings already recorded appear to have been worn in Britain. The extent of the Roman civilisation can be measured by the number of engraved stones enclosed in their settings or found apart, the majority of which must have been executed by lapidaries on the spot. Many articles, such as rings, armlets, beads, buttons, and amulets, were formed of jet or Kimmeridge shale, turned on a lathe. In the Island of Purbeck round flat pieces of jet have been found pierced with holes, which are clearly refuse pieces of the turner—the nuclei of rings and other articles. This material appears to be the same as that termed by Pliny gigates. According to him, it was supposed to possess the virtue of driving away serpents; and personal ornaments made of it were particularly prized. There seems little doubt that the use of ornaments of Kimmeridge coal or shale by the Romano-Britons was nothing more than a survival of the Neolithic or Stone Age. “Great Britain,” writes M. Fontenay in 1887, with reference to the ancient practice of wearing ornaments of jet, “remains faithful to its early customs; for at the present day English ladies delight in adorning themselves with jet jewellery. Fashion changes rapidly, but it will be long, one hopes, before it again decrees the general use of ornaments of this unattractive material.
CHAPTER VII
BARBARIC JEWELLERY OF EUROPE (THE GREAT MIGRATIONS)
During the period of the great migrations, when hordes of barbarians swept like waves across Europe over the tracks of Roman civilisation, all traces of classical art rapidly vanished, save in Constantinople, which remained, as it were, a corner of the antique world. The forms of classical jewellery in natural course either totally disappeared or underwent a complete transformation, and there appeared instead a new process for the decoration of personal ornament, which in earlier times was practically unknown, save to the goldsmiths of ancient Egypt. Just as the desire to imitate precious stones led to the introduction of enamel, so the Gothic nations who hailed from the south-east corner of Europe brought into jewellery the Oriental love for colour. Coloured stones, usually garnets, or red glass, cut in slices, were inlaid on a metal surface, or were placed side by side, separated only by intervening strips of metal. This process of inlay or incrustation is of great importance, since almost every species of jewellery in Europe from the third till about the eighth century is thus decorated. The Goths invented no new jewellery, but adapted a style which had long been in existence. And though the forms of their jewellery may be due to the growth of local traditions, its decoration is clearly the result of influences connected in some way with the East. Originating, as it doubtless did, in Persia or in the further East, this process of inlay was adopted by the Gothic nations during the earlier centuries of the Christian era, and made its first appearance among them in the districts of the Caucasus and in the Crimea. From thence it passed to the Lombards in Italy, to the Burgundians in Austria and Switzerland, the Visigoths in Spain, the Merovingians in Gaul, the earlier Scandinavians, in Denmark; and by the Saxon tribes in Northern Germany it was carried to England, where it attained its highest perfection in the superb circular brooches that have been brought to light in Kent. By the discovery of specimens of Asiatic and Germanic jewellery ornamented in this manner, the path of the migratory tribes can thus be traced right across the Continent. Yet for the reason that conditions of property and nationality became altered from one generation to another, the question to which of the nations numerous pieces of jewellery are to be ascribed, is difficult to solve. They are often connected with misunderstood Hellenistic and Asiatic traditions, while at the same time showing workmanship with barbaric ideas of form. There are, as has been pointed out,9 two very distinct forms of inlay, one of which is possibly the outcome of the other. One has been termed plate inlaying, the other cloisonné inlaying. The first is represented in the east of Europe by the fibulae and gorget in the celebrated treasure of Petrossa, and in the west by the crown of Svinthila in the equally famous treasure of Guarrazar. In these objects a gold plate is pierced, and into the holes thus formed stones are fixed by mastic, and supported from behind by a second plate of gold. This form of inlaying seems to merge naturally into the other, for at a certain point it may have occurred to the goldsmith to abandon the continuous upper sheet of metal and to cut it into strips to be placed edgewise between the stones. Thus appeared the second form of inlaying, in the cloisonné manner. It is represented in its journey from the East by the “Oxus treasure.” In Europe it is illustrated by numerous specimens of Teutonic jewellery from Southern Europe, by the ornaments discovered in the tomb of Childeric I, and finally by the splendid Anglo-Saxon jewellery from the Kentish cemeteries. Numbers of articles of jewellery dating from the fifth century until the general introduction of Christianity have been discovered in various localities in Europe. But the above-mentioned hoards of treasure demand special consideration, as being, not only the most characteristic examples of the methods of inlay, but also types of the utmost luxury of the period in the way of personal ornaments. Beyond these no general account of European jewellery need here be given, since excavations in the Anglo-Saxon graves have revealed examples of jewellery which may be taken as fairly representative of the articles then in use upon the Continent as well. A description may now be given of some of the principal and most typical of these European treasurehoards, dating from what are known as the “Dark Ages.” But attention must first be drawn to the important Asiatic treasure found near the River Oxus, in Bactria, in 1877. This “Oxus treasure,”10 belonging for the most part to the fourth century B.C., seems to supply the missing link in the chain of evidence which unites the ornamentation of European jewellery with clearly defined Oriental methods. The chief articles of jewellery in the hoard are two massive penannular bracelets of gold, one in the British Museum, the other at South Kensington. They are ornamented at each end with a winged monster or gryphon in full relief. The surface of the wings and necks of the figures is covered with gold cloisons, once set with coloured stones or pastes. The form and decoration of these and the other articles of the treasure in the Franks Bequest in the British Museum seem to indicate the Persian origin of this inlaid work. The “treasure of Petrossa,” dating from the fourth century A.D., contains some of the earliest examples of inlaid jewellery in Europe. Few treasures of which record has been preserved are equal to it in archaeological interest. It was discovered in 1837 by peasants on the banks of a tributary of the Danube, near the village of Petrossa, about sixty miles from Bucharest. Much of it was broken up shortly after its discovery. What remained was seized by the Government and conveyed to the Museum of Antiquities at Bucharest, where it is now preserved. The treasure includes a gold torque with hooked ends, like the Celtic torques trom the British Isles; a crescent-shaped collar or gorget of gold with its surface pierced in the manner of plate inlay, and set with garnets and other stones; three bird-shaped fibulæ; and a larger ornament, also in the shape of a bird, intended probably as a breastplate. The heads and necks of the birds are inlaid in the cloisonné manner; their lower parts are ornamented with plate inlay.11 Dating from the Merovingian period are the treasures of King Childeric I in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris. The founder of the Merovingian dynasty died in 481, and was buried at Tournai, in Languedoc, surrounded by his treasures and robes of state. In the year 1653, when all memory of the place of his interment had perished, a labourer accidentally uncovered the royal grave and brought to light the treasure it contained. The regalia consisted of a sword, a bracelet, fibulæ, buckles, about three hundred gold bees—the decoration of a mantle—and a signet-ring of gold. This ring was not set with a gem, but had its oval gold bezel engraved with a full-faced bust holding a spear. It bore the legend CHILDIRICI REGIS. On the night of November 5, 1831, the Bibliothèque was broken into by burglars. An alarm being given, they fled, and threw their spoil, which included, amongst other objects, Childeric’s regalia, into the Seine. The river was dredged, and a great part of the treasure was recovered. The ring, however, was never found; but its design is preserved in Chiflet’s Anastasis Childerici I, while the signet itself has been reconstructed from an impression of the seal in wax, found in the Bodleian Library in a copy of Chiflet’s work, once the property of the great antiquary, Francis Douce. Except on this jewel, the traditional surface decoration of Teutonic jewellery is admirably represented. Every item of the treasure is inlaid with thin slices of garnet or red glass, arranged in the cloisonné manner between gold partitions.12 The most wonderful, probably, of all treasures-trove is the famous “treasure of Guarrazar,” discovered in 1858 at a place called La Fuente de Guarrazar, near Toledo.13 It included eleven crowns of pure gold set with precious stones. The peasants who unearthed the treasure broke up the crowns and divided the spoil. But the story of the discovery became known; and having been pieced together, most of the crowns were conveyed to the Musée Cluny at Paris, and the remainder placed in the Real Armeria at Madrid. The most important of those at Madrid is the crown of King Svinthila (621-631). Its surface is pierced with holes arranged in rose-shaped patterns, and set with large pearls and cabochon sapphires. From the lower rim hangs a fringe of letters set in the cloisonné manner with red glass paste, suspended by chains. The letters form the inscription SVINTILANUS REX OFFERET. The chief crown in the treasure at Paris is that of King Reccesvinthus (649-672). It consists of a broad circle of gold, 8 inches in diameter, mounted with thirty huge Oriental pearls and thirty large sapphires, all set in high collets and separated by pierced open-work. The margins are bands of cloisonné work with inlays of red glass. Suspended below by twenty-four chains are letters of gold inlaid like the borders, forming the words RECCESVINTHUS REX OFFERET. Attached to each letter is a square collet hung with a pear-shaped sapphire. The crown is suspended by four chains from a foliated ornament encircled with pendent pearls and sapphires, and surmounted by a capital of rock crystal. A massive cross 41/4 inches long and 21/2 inches wide hangs below the crown. It is set with eight enormous pearls and six large and brilliant sapphires, the latter mounted in high open bezels. From its foot and limbs hang three paste imitations of emeralds, with pear-shaped sapphires below. The combination of the pure gold with the violet sapphires and the somewhat faded lustre of the pearls produces an exceedingly harmonious effect of colour. The majority of these crowns were votive offerings to a church, to be hung above the altar; the larger ones may have been actually used at coronations, and afterwards suspended in some consecrated building and the dedicatory inscriptions attached in remembrance of the ceremony. They certainly appear to be native work of the Spanish Visigoths, executed under the influence of the style prevailing in the Eastern Empire. At a date not long after their production, the use of this particular species of decoration of jewellery, owing probably to the revival of the art of enamelling, rapidly declined in wester Europe; and though it continued to be practised in the East, it had virtually disappeared at the close of the Merovingian period—by about the year 800, when Charlemagne was crowned Emperor of the West.

CHAPTER VIII
ANGLO-SAXON JEWELLERY (FIFTH TO SEVENTH CENTURY)—MEROVINGIAN JEWELLERY
Upon the invasion of Britain by the Teutonic races in the fifth century personal ornaments lost their Roman character, and assumed a peculiar type which betrays the impress of a fresh nationality on design and workmanship. A near alliance by origin and geographical position existed between the Jutes, Angles, and other kindred tribes commonly known as the Saxons, who settled in Britain, and the Franks, who stationed themselves in Gaul. The ornaments of all these tribes bear on this account a close similarity. Hence Anglo-Saxon jewels may for the most part be taken as representative of all the rest; and the only contemporary Merovingian ornaments to be noticed will be those that differ from the Anglo-Saxon types. In England as well as in France this remarkable group of jewellery belongs to the period which immediately followed the extinction of the Roman power in both countries, and extends from the fifth to the middle of the seventh century. Personal ornaments in England were the last in Europe to receive a characteristic species of surface decoration: for Kent and the Isle of Wight form the extreme limit of the geographical area in which jewellery ornamented with cloisonné inlay has been found. The process attained here the highest point of excellence. Anglo-Saxon jewellery occupies an exceedingly important position in the history of the goldsmith’s art. Its beauty lies in its delicate goldwork and peculiarly harmonious blending of colours. So remarkable is the fertility of fancy with which each jewel is adorned, that scarcely any two are exactly identical in ornamentation. However complicated the system of knotwork, and however frequently the same form might require filling in, each workman appears to have been eager to express his own individuality, and to originate some fresh method of treatment or new variety of design. In common with other Teutonic nations, the Anglo-Saxons were peculiarly fond of personal ornaments. They held in high esteem both the smith—the producer of weapons—and the goldsmith who manufactured the rings and bracelets employed as rewards of valour. A passage in the “Exeter Book,” which dilates on the various stations in life and the capacities required for them, refers thus to the goldsmith: “For one a wondrous skill in goldsmiths art is provided: full oft he decorates and well adorns a powerful king’s nobles, and he to him gives broad land in recompense.” The graves or barrows of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors have proved singularly prolific in personal ornaments. Extensive cemeteries have been discovered in the midland, eastern and southern counties, and particularly upon the downs of Kent, Sussex, and the Isle of Wight. The barrows of Kent have revealed personal ornaments of greater wealth and refinement than those of any other parts. The majority of Anglo-Saxon pins were no doubt employed for fastening up the hair. They often have as a head the figure of a bird or grotesque animal, ornamented with garnets, like similar pins from the Continent. One of the best, which comes from the Faversham graves in Kent, is in the Gibbs Bequest, now in the British Museum. It is of silver, formerly gilt; its upper part is flat and in the form of a bird set with cut garnets. Gothic tribes had a great predilection for the bird as a decorative subject.14 A certain number of earrings have been found, but they are not common. They are generally a ring of silver wire, plain, or twisted into a spiral form, and hung sometimes with beads of coloured glass or clay. The earrings worn by the Franks during the contemporary Merovingian period are of a type unrepresented in Anglo-Saxon jewellery. They differ in size, but are nearly all of the same pattern, and have a plain hoop. One end is pointed to pierce the ear, and on the other end is a polygonal metal cube, each side of which is set with a slice of garnet or red glass. Anglo-Saxon necklaces are composed of beads of many varieties. The commonest, of glass, of numerous colours and shapes, are very similar to the Roman beads. Beads of amethystine quartz, probably of Transylvanian or German origin, and particularly beads of amber from the Baltic, are found strung on necklaces, or were hung singly from the neck. When one remembers the superstitious respect which was universally paid to precious stones, and especially to amber, in early times, it is probable that these were regarded as amulets. The more sumptuous necklaces, which must have been worn by ladies of rank, are composed of gold beads or of precious stones in delicate settings of twisted or beaded gold. The pendent ornaments hung to the necklaces are very beautiful. Some are formed of large, finely coloured garnets cut into triangle or pear shapes and mounted in gold. Others, generally circular, are of pure gold worked in interlaced or vermiculated patterns and set with precious stones. A striking group of pendants is formed of coins of foreign origin, Roman or Byzantine, or rude copies of them made in England by Anglo-Saxon goldsmiths. In the British Museum is an elaborate necklace of glass and terracotta beads with pendent gold coins of the seventh century, which was found, together with a splendid brooch, at Sarre, in Kent. Three of the pendants are coins of Emperors of the East—Mauricius and Heraclius—and the fourth is a coin of Chlotaire II of France. The central pendant, also circular, is ornamented with a section from a rod of Roman millefiori glass set in gold. Besides coins—the frequent use of which in late Roman jewellery has already been noticed-there exists a well-known class of personal ornaments known as nummi bracteati, bracteate coins, and sometimes as “spangle money.” They are thin discs of metal stamped in a die, so that the design appears in relief on the face and incuse on the back. They are generally of gold, have a beaded edging, and are supplied with loops, also of gold, for suspension. Fibulæ or brooches are the most numerous of all Anglo-Saxon ornaments. They are remarkable both for their beauty and their excellence of workmanship. Probably more than one was usually worn; and four or five have been found in the same grave on different parts of the body. The different types of brooches from various districts of England are sufficiently clearly marked to permit their classification as the ornaments of distinct peoples. For the present purpose it is convenient to divide them into three main classes, each class consisting, naturally, of many varieties. (1) Circular jewelled brooches found among the remains of the Kentish Saxons, and of the Jutes of the Isle of Wight. (2) Brooches of the sunk or concave circular type worn by the Saxons of Berks, Oxford, and Gloucestershire. (3) Cruciform brooches —a type of the elongated form of brooch. They are peculiar to the Angles who formed the population of Mercia, East Anglia, and Northumbria. (1) The circular jewelled brooches found in the cemeteries of Kent and sometimes in the Isle of Wight, but scarcely ever in other parts of England, may be subdivided again into three classes. The first of these, and the most numerous, is composed of a single piece of metal decorated with chased work and set with jewels. The second group comprises those formed of a disc of bronze or silver, decorated with a disc of gold foil covered with inlaid cells forming triangles and circles, with three bosses grouped round a central boss. This type is rarer than the first, and is often of great beauty. The third group, the finest and rarest, is distinguished by being formed of two plates of metal joined by a band round the edges, the upper part being prepared in the cloisonné manner for the reception of stones or pastes, while the pin or acus is fixed to the lower. Brooches of this type, in which the stones, mostly garnets, are set upon hatched gold foil between delicate gold cloisons, represent at its utmost perfection the process of inlaying already described. Three of the finest circular jewelled brooches are: the Kingston brooch in the Mayer Collection at Liverpool, the Abingdon brooch in the Ashmolean Museum, and the Sarre brooch in the British Museum. The first, which is certainly the most beautiful, is 33/16 inches in diameter. The front is divided into compartments subdivided into cells of various forms, enriched with vermicular gold, with turquoises and with garnets laid upon gold foil. Concentric circles which surround a central boss are treated alternately in coloured stones and worked gold.15 The Abingdon brooch is divided into four compartments, each decorated with interlaced gold wire, and mounted with a boss of ivory, horn, or shell, with a fifth boss in the centre of the brooch. The rest of the ground is decorated with garnets upon hatched gold foil.16 The Sarre brooch, 25/8 inches in width, is ornamented in a similar manner, and has a large central and four smaller bosses composed of a substance resembling ivory, set with carbuncles17 (Pl. XI, 1).
(2) The next main class of brooches comprises the concave circular, known also as the cupelliform or saucer-shaped, found in the West Saxon cemeteries. They are of bronze or copper, thickly gilt, and very rarely decorated with jewels. They have a plain edge, and a centre covered with interlaced and other ornamental patterns. (3) Cruciform brooches form the last and most widely distributed group. They have trefoil or cruciform tops; but must not be held to have any connection with Christianity because they approach the form of a cross, for they are found in purely pagan graves. Some varieties are found in other parts of England besides Mercia, East Anglia, and Northumbria, but they are rare in Kent. These cruciform Anglian brooches are of cast bronze, generally gilt, but sometimes plated with silver. They are often of enormous size, and covered with rude and elaborate patterns such as are found upon early Scandinavian objects. Since the patterns were added after the brooches were cast, it happens that, though forms are frequently identical, decorations differ on nearly every specimen. With the rarest exception, they are never garnished with precious stones. This kind of brooch appears to have been evolved about the fourth century. There are other brooches somewhat of the same form, but not usually found in England. Amongst these is a type which, instead of having a trefoil ornament at the top, is square-headed. Though not unknown in France and Germany, brooches of this design are chiefly Scandinavian. An important series of both of the types last mentioned is preserved in the British Museum; while the fine collection belonging to Sir John Evans contains many splendid specimens. Another variety is known as the “radiated” brooch, from the fact that its upper part, which is rectangular or semicircular, is ornamented with obtuse rays. The finest example of this type, and the largest known (it measures 6 1/4 inches), is in the Bavarian National Museum at Munich. It dates from about the sixth century; and was found in a rock tomb near Wittislingen on the Danube in 1881. It is silver, gilt upon the upper side, enriched with a cloisonné inlay of garnets in a variety of patterns, and further ornamented with interlaced gold filigree (Pl. XII, 7). A Latin inscription on the under side contains the name UFFILA. Radiated brooches, which Mr. Roach Smith18 considers to be prior in point of date to all other Anglo-Saxon types, extend over the greater part of Europe. But they are rare in England, though a few have been found in Kent and are preserved among the Gibbs Bequest. There is yet another type of Anglo-Saxon brooch, annular in shape. It consists of a plain ring, with a pin travelling round it attached to a small cylinder. This annular brooch is comparatively rare in Saxon times. Its interest lies in the fact that it is the parent of a much more important brooch worn throughout the Middle Ages. In common with all primitive peoples, the Saxons held rings in less esteem than other ornaments. The few that have been found are simple bronze hoops. Rings were more frequent, however, among the Merovingians. The chief feature in Merovingian rings, which are often of gold, is that the bezel is for the most part large and circular. It is either roughly engraved in the manner of Childeric’s signet, or else is ornamented with cloisonné inlay. Other rings have a high projecting bezel. Buckles of gold, silver, and bronze, used to fasten the belt or girdle, or employed on some other part of the dress, are particularly abundant in Kentish graves. They vary considerably, many being of particularly good design, set with garnets and ornamented with gold filigree. The largest examples can be assigned to the girdles of men, the smallest and richest to those of women. Some of the best are in the Gibbs Bequest. One of the finest examples of Anglo-Saxon jewellery is the magnificent gold buckle discovered in a grave near Taplow, Bucks, and now in the British Museum. The base of the tongue and the oval ring are inlaid with glass pastes upon gold foil; while the buckle plate, enriched with three garnets, is bordered with many graduated rows of finely twisted gold wire, and has its centre filled with a sort of vermiculated pattern upon repoussé ground (Pl. XII, 6). Women’s graves have generally yielded a number of objects of personal use as well as of adornment. Articles of toilet, such as tweezers, etc., are found by the side of the skeleton, and resemble the modern chatelaine. There exist, in addition, curious bronze pendants sometimes shaped like a pot-hook, which, found in pairs near the waists of female skeletons, are known generally as girdle-hangers. Their exact purpose was for a long time a mystery, but archaeologists are now mostly of the opinion that they were fastenings for bags or purses suspended from the girdle. With the exception of the brooch-pin, which is always made of iron, Anglo-Saxon jewellery is almost invariably composed of gold, silver, or of some alloy, and is very rarely of iron, like the buckles found in the Frankish cemeteries. These iron buckles, owing to the perishable nature of their material, are often much disfigured by rust, but many are sufficiently well preserved to exhibit a beautiful and elaborate inlay of silver. sometimes accompanied by gold. Many examples of them are preserved in the museums of France and Germany. Some are of extraordinary size. The buckle and plate alone of one in the museum at Berne measures no less than 85/8 by 41/2 inches and half an inch in thickness. Buckles of this kind have never been found in England.

CHAPTER IX
LATE ANGLO-SAXON JEWELLERY (SEVENTH TO NINTH CENTURY)
After the landing of St. Augustine in 597 and the baptism of Ethelbert, King of Kent, the conversion of the upper classes in England appears to have been rapid, and by the third decade of the seventh century the greater part of the country had accepted Christianity. Old customs, however, with regard to burial and the adornment of thexeorpse, were slow in disappearing, and even as late as the time of Charlemagne (742-814) we hear of orders being issued that the Saxons were no longer to follow the pagan mode of burial, but to inter their dead in consecrated ground. The general abandonment of the custom of burying ornaments with the dead is responsible for the small number of the later Anglo-Saxon jewels now extant. But the few examples surviving from the period which terminated at the Norman Conquest are of exceptional merit. There can be no doubt that the introduction of Christianity produced a profound change in the character of personal ornaments. New forms and methods, due to closer association with the Continent, were introduced into the goldsmith’s productions by the Church, which at the same time fostered the splendid traditions of the older English jewellers. The characteristic of the finest pieces of Saxon jewellery of the Christian period is their ornamentation by means of cloisonné enamel. It has already been noticed that Anglo-Saxon jewels were decorated with gold wires, some twisted or beaded, or rolled up and plaited together, and soldered on to a thin gold plate; while others were flattened into strips forming compartments, which were filled with pieces of garnet or coloured glass cut to shape. When the spaces between rips, so disposed as to make up the outlines of figures or ornament, were filled with enamel paste and fired, the result was enamel of the cloisonné type. This cloisonné enamel naturally resulted as soon as the Saxon jeweller had mastered the art of fusing vitreous colours upon metal. From whom did he learn this art? Was enamelling introduced by the followers of Augustine from Rome or Byzantium, or did the Irish missionaries bring afresh into England an art of which the Celts were past masters? The question is one that cannot be answered; but it is not without interest to note the great influence of the Irish craftsmen on the art productions of the time. A remarkable development of goldsmith’s work in Treland succeeded the introduction of Christianity. Enamel was largely employed in the decoration of early objects of ecclesiastical metalwork, and attained perfection in the translucent cloisonné enamel of the Tara brooch and the Ardagh chalice. The far-reaching influence and extraordinary activity of the Irish missionaries, many of them no doubt skilled goldsmiths, are well known. “Irish missionaries laboured among the Picts of the Highlands and among the Frisians of the northern seas. An Irish missionary, Columban, founded monasteries in Burgundy and the Apennines. The canton of St. Gall still commemorates in its name another Irish missionary.19 The processes of their artistic metalwork must have made themselves felt wherever these Irish missionaries penetrated. The wandering scholars and artists of Ireland left both their books and their art apprentices in England, as they had left them along the Rhine and the Danube. At Glastonbury, St. Dunstan, the patron saint of English smiths, lingered as a youth among the books with which the Irish missionaries had endowed the monastery, and associated doubtless with the monastic craftsmen who had learned the arts of their Celtic predecessors. Every priest was trained in some handicraft, and many monks became excellent goldsmiths. St. Dunstan (924-988), like St. Eloi of France (588-659), at once a goldsmith and a royal minister, himself worked in the precious metals; and he appears to have been a jeweller as well, for we find in old inventories, entries of finger rings described as the productions of the great prelate. In the Wardrobe Account of Edward I, in 1299 (Liber Quotidianus, p. 348), is “Unus anulus auri cum saphiro qui fuit de fabrica Sancti Dunstani ut credebatur”; and in the inventory of that mediaeval fop, Piers Gaveston, 1313 (Rymer, Fædera, II, i, p. 203), is: “Un anel d’or, à un saphir, lequel seint Dunstan forga de ses mayns.” The artistic traditions of the old Saxon jewellers became almost the sole property of the clergy; and the Venerable Bede, writing at the commencement of the eighth century, alluding to the monastic jewellers of his day, describes how “a skilled gold-worker, wishing to do some admirable work, collects, wherever he can, remarkable and precious stones to be placed among the gold and silver, as well to show his skill as for the beauty of the work.” The description of these stones as “chiefly of a ruddy or aerial colour” would seem to indicate that garnets and turquoises had not even then been entirely supplanted by enamels. Certain it is that the earlier Christian jewels retained for a time the technique of those of pagan Saxondom. For example, the gold cross of St. Cuthbert (d. 687), discovered in his tomb in Durham Cathedral in 1827 and now preserved in the Cathedral Library, is inlaid with garnets in the cloisonné manner (Pl. XIII, 3). The internecine wars of the Saxons and the early ravages of the Norsemen, from which England was delivered by Alfred during the ninth century, can have left the country little repose for the cultivation of the jeweller’s art. Yet, in spite of the unhappy condition of England, the art, judging from inscribed jewels noticed hereafter, was still practised, and needed only some presiding genius to awaken it to new life. There is little reason to doubt that jewellery was among the foremost of the arts which Alfred is known to have encouraged; indeed, his interest in such work is asserted by a well-sustained tradition. And if the world-famed jewel to be described is, as seems probable, to be associated with Alfred of Wessex, he must then have personally supervised the production of other contemporary jewels. The Alfred jewel, the finest example left of Anglo-Saxon craftsmanship, and the most famous of all English jewels, is preserved in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford. It was found in 1693 at Newton (or Petherton) Park, three miles from the Isle of Athelney, Somerset, whither Alfred had fled from the Danes in the year 878, and was presented to the museum in 1718 by Thomas Palmer, grandson of Colonel Nathaniel Palmer, near whose estate it was found. The jewel is 2 inches long, 11/5 wide, and half an inch in thickness. It somewhat resembles a battledore in shape; it is flat front and back, while the other parts of its surface are rounded. The obverse is of rock crystal, beneath which is a plaque of semi-transparent cloisonné enamel of blue, white, green, and brown, representing the figure of a man. Upon the reverse, is an engraved gold plate. The smaller end of the oval is prolonged into the form of a boar’s head, from the snout of which projects a hollow socket. Around the sloping sides of the jewel, from left to right, runs the legend AELFRED MEC HEHT GEWYRCAN (Alfred ordered me to be made), in gold letters, exquisitely chiselled in openwork upon the band which encircles the enamel and its crystal covering. The whole of the goldwork is beautifully executed in filigree and granulation (Pl. XIII, 1, 2). There is considerable doubt as to the actual use of this precious jewel. Professor Earle has placed it among the category of personal ornaments, and holds that it was executed under the personal supervision of Alfred the Great, and formed the central ornament of his helmet or crown.20 The enamelled figure is probably intended for that of Christ, represented, as is frequently done in early ecclesiastical art, holding two sceptres. The gold setting of the jewel, it is generally agreed, was made in England, and in the opinion of many the enamel is of native origin.21 Somewhat similar in shape to the Alfred jewel, and probably employed for the same purpose, is a jewel known as the Minster Lovel jewel, which was found half a century ago in a village of that name near Oxford, and is now preserved in the Ashmolean Museum. It is 11/4 inches in length, circular above, with a projecting socket below. The upper part is ornamented with a cross-shaped design in cloisonné enamel. Another remarkable jewel, preserved in the British Museum, is termed the Dowgate brooch, or the Roach Smith nouche (or brooch), in memory of the learned and energetic antiquary whose property it once was. The brooch was found near Dowgate Hill in Thames Street, London, in 1839. It is composed of a circular enamel representing a full-faced head and bust, enclosed in a border of rich gold filigree covered with beaded ornament and set at equal distances with four pearls. The fine cloisons of the enamel work are arranged so as to mark the outlines of the face, a crown upon the head, and the folds of the drapery of a mantle or tunic. The dress is classical in appearance, and seems to be fastened on the right shoulder22 (Pl. XIII, 4). Two other enamelled brooches of the same kind of workmanship, also in the British Museum, are the Townley brooch, also known as the Hamilton brooch, which is said to have been found in Scotland, and the Castellani brooch, formerly in the collection of Signor Castellani, and stated to have been found at Canosa, Italy (Pl. IX, 9, 11). The latter brooch is set with a circular enamel representing the bust of a royal personage wearing large earrings, and upon the front of the dress a circular brooch with three pendants hanging below it. At the lower part of the gold and enamel frame of the Castellani brooch itself are three loops, which must have held pendants exactly similar to those attached to the brooch worn by the enamelled figure. Pendants of this kind are represented, as has been seen, on the Ravenna mosaics, and appear to be characteristic of Byzantine brooches. And it is probable that this, as well as the Townley brooch, as explained in the Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries (2nd Series, Vol. XX, p. 64), is of Continental origin. Though similar in some respects to the other enamelled jewels, these two brooches differ considerably “These differences,” says a recent writer, from them. “seem to accentuate the difficulty of tracing the origin of this enamelled work. It may well be that some of it was executed in this country by the craftsmen in the employ of King Alfred; but it may fairly be assumed that on the journeys to Rome and elsewhere, undertaken by Ethelwulf, Alfred, and Ethelswitha, they and their suites would acquire jewellery of this class, which must have been comparatively common in Rome, and in other important centres at that time.”23 The rings dating from the time of pagan Saxondom are few and unimportant; those, on the other hand, that belong to this later period, though rare, are more numerous, and are of considerable historical and artistic interest. It is somewhat curious that the finest date almost exclusively from the ninth century, and that most of them are inscribed. It is to this fact, doubtless, that they owe their preservation. No Anglo-Saxon rings, as far as we are aware, are ornamented with enamel. Many are enriched with inlays of niello. Gold rings thus inlaid sometimes have the appearance of having been enamelled, for the niello seems to have a bluish tinge, but this may be due, as Mr. Davenport suggests (Anglo-Saxon Review, Vol. V), to some optical effect caused by the yellow gold. The most important inscribed Saxon rings, three in number, are historical relics of the highest order. They belonged respectively to Alhstan, Bishop of Sherborne (824-867); Ethelwulf, King of Wessex (836-858), father of Alfred the Great; and Ethelswith, Queen of Mercia, and sister to King Alfred. The ring of Alhstan, at once the earliest episcopal finger ring and the first in chronological order of these inscribed gold rings, was found in 1753 at Llys-faen, in the county of Carnarvonshire. It was one of the chief treasures of the famous collection of finger rings formed by the late Edmund Waterton, and is now in the Victoria and Albert Museum. The initials of its owner are inscribed in niello upon four circular compartments, separated by four lozenge-shaped compartments also inlaid with niello (Pl. XIII, 9). The most famous of all English rings— “une pièce excessivement précieuse,” says M. Fontenay, “par son originalité et son caractère” —is that of Ethelwulf, King of Wessex. It is in the form of a bishop’s mitre with only one peak, and bears the inscription ETHELVVLF R, above which are two peacocks pecking at a tree. The legend and subject are reserved in gold upon a nielloed ground. The ring was picked up in its present bent condition in 1780 by a labourer in a field at Laverstoke, near Salisbury, where it had been pressed out of a cart-rut. It is now in the British Museum (Pl. XIII, 5). The third of this remarkable series of inscribed rings is that of Ethelswith, Queen of Mercia, daughter of Ethelwulf. It has a circular bezel, in the middle of which is a rude representation of an Agnus Dei engraved in relief with a background of niello. The inner side of the bezel is incised with the inscription EATHELSVITH REGNA. This beautiful ring was found near Aberford, in Yorkshire, about the year 1870, and came into the possession of Sir A. W. Franks, who bequeathed it to the British Museum (Pl. XIII, 7). Several other Saxon rings are preserved in the British Museum. Among them is one with a plain hoop and beaded edges, bearing around it in gold letters on a nielloed ground an inscription recording the name of the owner, Ethred, and the maker, Eanred. It was found in Lancashire, and bequeathed to the museum by Sir Hans Sloane in 1753. Another ring (found near Peterborough in the River Nene) is peculiar for having two bezels opposite each other. Both sides of the hoop and each bezel are engraved with interlaced designs inlaid with niello. The bezels are each flanked by three small beads of gold—a characteristic ornamentation of a certain class of Teutonic and Merovingian rings, termed by the French bagues à trois grains. In the Victoria and Albert Museum is a silver ring of unusual form. It has an oval bezel 11/4 inches in length, engraved with convoluted ornament in five divisions, the centre being filled with a serpent-headed monster. It was found in the Thames at Chelsea in 1856. A type of ring which occurs more than once is formed of a hoop, which widens gradually into a large oval bezel ornamented with bands of rich plaited goldwork. One of these rings, found at Bossington, It near Stockbridge, is in the Ashmolean Museum. has in the centre a male portrait surrounded by the inscription, NOMEN EHLLA FID IN XPO (My name is Ella; my faith is in Christ). More remarkable, perhaps, than any of the above, on account of the peculiar beauty of its workmanship, is a gold ring in the possession of Lord Fitzhardinge, and preserved, together with the Hunsdon jewels, at Berkeley Castle. It has a large bezel of quatrefoil form. In the centre is a raised circular boss ornamented with a cross or wheel-shaped design in beaded gold. Radiating from this centre are four heads of monsters, inlaid with thin lines of niello, and having projecting eyes formed of dots of dark blue and dark brown glass or enamel. The hoop of the ring, of considerable girth, is hexagonal in section. At the junction of its ends at the back of the bezel, immediately behind the monsters’ ears, it is finished with a graduated wire of filigree, terminating with three small balls. The ring dates from about the tenth century. Nothing is known concerning its discovery. It is probably Saxon, but may be of Irish origin (Pl. XIII, 10). Beyond these finger rings and the enamelled jewellery, we possess few other examples of later Saxon ornaments; yet there exist a small number, which, though executed somewhat after the manner of the older jewels, probably belong to this later period of Saxon art. Among such ornaments is a necklace from Desborough, Northants, and now in the British Museum. It is formed of beads of spirally coiled gold wire. Circular pendants, having one side convex and the other flat, alternate with gold pendants of various shapes and sizes, set with garnets. From the centre of the necklace hangs a cross (Pl. XII, 1). One other ornament in the British Museum, particularly worthy of attention, is a beautiful set of three ornamental pins of silver gilt, which were found in the River Witham, near Lincoln. The three pins have heads in the shape of circular discs, and are connected together by two oblong pieces of metal with a ring at each end. The pins average four inches in length. The interlaced ornament on their circular heads (described in detail in the Reliquary, 2nd Series, Vol. X, p. 52), is arranged in four panels separated by radial divisions. The penannular brooch, known as the Celtic brooch, so common in other parts of the British Isles about this period, has rarely been found in England. A few examples occur in close proximity to undoubted Anglo-Saxon remains, but they are confined mostly to the north of England. Its extreme rarity leads one naturally to the conclusion that it found but little favour in England. In Scotland and Ireland, however, where it was almost universally worn, this type of brooch attained, as will shortly be shown, the highest degree of excellence both in design and workmanship.

CHAPTER X
THE CELTIC BROOCH
In order to understand the condition of the arts in the more remote parts of the British Isles, subsequent to the introduction of Christianity towards the middle of the fifth century, one must remember the situation created by the invasions of the Teutonic tribes, whereby nearly the whole of northern and western Europe relapsed into paganism, while Ireland and the western highlands of Scotland alone remained faithful to the Christian Church. During the earlier centuries of this period, the designs and processes of the Celtic crafts, nurtured in these parts of the British Isles by the Church, undisturbed by invaders, and free from outside influences, were brought to a state of high perfection. The introduction of Christianity into Ireland by St. Patrick, who doubtless brought with him European craftsmen, had greatly encouraged the production of metalwork; and though changes in design resulted, the spiral patterns characteristic of Celtic art were retained for a considerable length of time—longer in fact than in any other quarters. It is unfortunate, however, that while a number of objects of early Christian art from Ireland and the Scottish highlands have survived, there is scarcely a single article of jewellery which is prior in date to about the ninth century A.D. The chief personal ornaments belonging to this later period, i.e. the ninth century onwards, are a number of remarkable objects known as Celtic brooches. The Celtic brooch, as far as its origin and development are concerned, shows no kinship with the bow or discshaped brooches already described, though, like them, it probably originated among the primitive Celts of the Danubian region. One theory derives its evolution from what is known as a ring-pin, that is a simple pin, the head of which, primarily solid, was afterwards pierced and fitted with a ring, which in course of time increased in size and became highly ornamented. Another theory traces the Celtic brooch from a combination of a long pin with the ancient dress fasteners—penannular rings furnished with knobs—such as are found in prehistoric graves, and are even now worn by the natives of West Africa. This penannular brooch has been found not only in Scotland and Ireland, but as far east as Livonia, and is actually still in use in Algeria at the present day. Its peculiarity consists in the great size of its pin—one in the British Museum measures 221/2 inches—the length of the pin being supposed to have corresponded to the rank of its owner.24 In some of the earlier forms the ring is of the same breadth all round, and merely cut across in one place for the passage of the pin. But as a rule this penannular ring terminates in knobs, and when the pin which travels round the ring has pierced the portions of the garments it is intended to unite, the ring is pushed a little to one side and prevented by the terminal knobs from becoming unloosened.25 The developments in the form of this brooch show its evolution from a penannular to an annular ring. In some—probably the earliest—examples, the ring and the head of the pin terminate in bulbous knobs, or in spherical ends ornamented with Celtic designs and animals’ heads. In others the ends of the rings and the pin-heads are broadened, in order to provide space for an elaborate surface decoration of interlaced work and zoomorphic and anthropomorphic designs similar to those upon the Irish manuscripts. Finally, the opening is closed and the ring becomes annular. The finest examples of these brooches are preserved in the museum of the Royal Irish Academy in Dublin, the National Museum of Antiquities of Scotland in Edinburgh, and the British Museum. Among the earliest—which are not, however, prior to the later Anglo-Saxon period, and make their appearance about the ninth century—are those with a plain penannular ring, formed of a solid cylindrical rod of silver, terminating with bulbous knobs furnished with expansions, and often covered with a peculiar prickly ornamentation like thistle-heads. Specimens of this style of brooch have been found in Ireland, Scotland, and in the north of England. The simplest of the silver penannular brooches with discoidal terminations in the museum at Edinburgh is one from Croy in Inverness-shire. It has ends expanding into circular discs with amber settings. The most elaborate, one of two known as the Cadboll brooches, found at Rogart in Sutherlandshire, has four raised heads of birds, two upon the circumference of each disc, and two upon the ring. The collection in the Royal Irish Academy contains several splendid brooches of a similar type, notably the Kilmainham brooch from Kilmainham, Co. Dublin, the surface of which is ornamented with compartments of thin plates of gold tooled with interlaced patterns. The terminations of the penannular ring soon become so expanded that they fill up exactly half the ring. Upon these flattened plaques, which have just space enough between them for the pin to pass, a serpent or dragon form is a frequent ornament, as well as the intertwined triple ornament, or triquetra, while the surface is set at intervals with bosses of amber. The most remarkable examples of this type are the University brooch in the collection of Trinity College, Dublin, and the Clarendon brooch found in Co. Kilkenny, and now in the museum of the Royal Irish Academy. The main characteristic of the Celtic brooch is that it is penannular, that is, its ring has an opening, if not real, at least apparent, between its two ends. For even when the narrow opening left between the enlarged ends is closed by a bar, or is finally closed altogether, the flattened plaques are ornamentally treated as if they were still disunited. Of this class of brooches with continuous rings there have survived two world-famed examples, one from Ireland and the other from Scotland. The first of these, known as the Tara brooch, was found in 1850 on the seashore near Bettystown, Co. Louth, and received the title of “Tara” on account of its beauty, and after the celebrated hill of that name. It is composed of white bronze thickly gilded. The ring and expanded head of the pin are divided into a number of panels ornamented with examples of nearly every technical process, being enriched with enamelwork, niello, and inlaid stones; while the metal is hammered, chased, and engraved, and filigreed with extraordinary delicacy. The enamels, of the cloisonné kind, have been made separately and mounted like gems. Attached to the brooch on one side is a finely plaited chain; a similar chain upon the other side has been lost. The reverse of the brooch is unadorned with settings, but decorated with a divergent spiral ornament known as the Celtic trumpet pattern, executed with very great perfection. The probable date of this extraordinary jewel is the tenth century. It is now the chief treasure of the museum of the Royal Irish Academy, for which it was bought in 1867 for the sum of £200. The finest after the Tara brooch, and the most famous of Scottish brooches, is known as the Hunterston brooch. It was found in 1826 on the estate of Mr. Robert Hunter, of West Kilbride, Ayrshire, and is now in the National Museum of Antiquities of Scotland. It is somewhat similar to the Tara brooch, and of the same gilt metal, but rather less ornate, and unprovided with enamels, glass pastes, or chain. Its main ornamentation consists of varieties of interlaced work in fine gold filigree, of singularly beautiful design and of remarkable execution. The back is decorated with the trumpet pattern, and engraved with Runic characters. The presence of the trumpet pattern upon the backs of these two famous brooches determines their date as prior to the eleventh century; for the old Celtic pattern disappears from brooches and from most Irish and all Scottish metalwork after the year 1000 A.D., and is succeeded by varieties of interlaced work and zoomorphic designs.26 The later Celtic brooches differ besides in form, for the pin is longer in proportion to the size of the ring, and its head is hinged upon a constriction of the ring, which itself becomes partly filled up. The Celtic brooch is distinct in itself, and does not merge into any other form. It disappears entirely about the thirteenth century, and is succeeded by a totally different type of brooch, which belongs to the ornaments of the later Middle Ages.
THE JEWELLERY OF THE MIDDLE AGES
(TENTH TO FIFTEENTH CENTURIES)
CHAPTER XI
MEDIÆVAL JEWELLERY
INTRODUCTION
To the student of jewellery the Middle Ages offer far greater problems than the periods of classic antiquity. The main reason for this is to be found in the fact that throughout mediaeval and later periods ornaments were more closely associated with dress, and dress itself became subject to the most marked changes and constant divergences of fashion. In the days of antiquity, so far as our knowledge goes, the idea of fashion, in the present sense of the term, did not exist. But in the Middle Ages, as Luthmer points out, it becomes an important factor in the history of civilisation. The duration of each prevalent fashion tended to become shorter and shorter, and the new mode was usually an absolute contrast to the preceding Though ornaments, owing to their higher one. material value, did not alter with each successive change in dress, nevertheless they underwent rapid variations of style. The custom of burying objects in graves, which continued for a considerable time after the introduction of Christianity, affords a tolerably clear idea of the various ornaments worn during the earlier periods of the Middle Ages. Coming to a later period, from the time of the first Crusade onwards, discoveries in the graves are extremely rare, and one has to look in many directions for information respecting the articles then in use. Though there seems to have been an immense production of personal ornaments throughout the whole of Europe, their intrinsic value has been too great to allow of their preservation; and the artistic qualities of those that have survived cause one to regret all the more the wholesale destruction that must have occurred. The jewels of the period are, in fact, so few in number, and furnish such striking varieties, that it is impossible to give an exhaustive synopsis of the different changes that took place in their form. The utmost that can be attempted is to take single characteristic pieces and allow them to stand as types of the whole epoch. Personal ornaments at this time began to have a wider significance than that of being merely decorations pleasant to the eye. Their material value comes more in the foreground. They began to form the nucleus of family and household treasures. The uncertain conditions of life made it desirable for the individual to have his most precious possessions in a portable form. An unfortunate war or royal displeasure might cost a prince or baron his land or his castles; but his movable goods, consisting of precious stones and gold and silver ornaments, were not so easily exposed to the vagaries of his superiors. Thus the numerous inventories of household goods that have come down from those times show an astounding increase in the matter of jewels and treasures among the great and lesser grandees, both secular and ecclesiastical; while there is a corresponding advance at the same time in craftsmanship. To this change in the significance of ornaments is to be attributed their rarity in graves. Jewellery had, in fact, assumed the character of money passed from hand to hand, and was constantly, so to speak, recoined; for even if held in steadfast possession it had to submit to changes of fashion and undergo frequent resetting.27 Particularly was this the case at the period of the Renaissance, when almost everything Gothic was remodelled. Tombs, then, supply little or no information; and for the present purpose one may make shift to use the chance descriptions of romancers, and such pictorial representations of jewellery as are presented by effigies on brasses, tombstones, and other monumental sculpture, and also by illuminated manuscripts. Monumental effigies show a number of accurately executed personal ornaments, which, belonging as they do mainly to sovereigns and individuals of wealth and distinction, may be taken as the highest types of those then worn. The miniatures and decorations of manuscripts executed towards the end of the period under review also afford considerable assistance; for illuminators were intensely fond of introducing jewels among the plants, flowers, birds, and butterflies minutely depicted on ornamental borders. The inventories of personal effects made for various purposes, and often full of graphic details, throughout the whole of the period supply absolutely trustworthy evidence as to contemporary ornaments. Pictures, which are among the chief sources of information, are not at one’s disposal until towards the termination of this epoch, but such as were produced during the later Gothic style, particularly in Italy, Germany, and the Low Countries, furnish numerous examples of jewellery painted with loving care and minute detail. Even from these sources of information, however, one could form but an inadequate idea of the precise character of mediæval jewellery. But, while the various reasons mentioned have resulted in the general destruction of articles made for secular use, among precious objects consecrated to religious uses a small number of personal ornaments have been preserved. This may be due, perhaps, to the sanctity of the places containing them, or perhaps to the precautions of their guardians, who have hidden them in time of trouble. They have survived many and strange vicissitudes, and their safety is now secured by a new-created archæological value, in place of the religious devotion which was their former guardian. In the treasury—an edifice attached to the church—there was kept in early times, among the vestments and plate used in its services, a vast collection of reliquaries and jewels gradually brought together, and preserved as memorials of the piety of the faithful. In numerous cases the treasury must have constituted a veritable museum, exhibiting examples of jewellery of each successive style. Some idea can be formed of the immense scope, as well as of the magnificence of its contents, from the early inventories which archæologists of recent years have taken pains to gather together and publish. The relative abundance of jewellery of Merovingian and Frankish times, and the great rarity of jewellery from the ninth century onwards, are phenomena observable in every museum. The reason for this lies in the fact that until the time of Charlemagne (742-814) the dead were buried with their weapons and with every article of jewellery. The Emperor forbade this mainly as a heathen practice, but largely because he saw the disadvantage of so many costly objects being withdrawn from circulation, with consequent loss to the national resources. This almost complete absence of examples renders it difficult to estimate precisely the style of ornaments then in use. But as far as can be judged, Byzantine influence seems to have affected all forms of jewellery. It is known, at all events, that until about the twelfth century active commercial transactions between France and Germany on the one hand, and Byzantium on the other, were carried on by way of Venice. Not only did Byzantine workmen settle in the great seaport of the Adriatic, but imitations of work from the Eastern Roman provinces were probably made there at an early date by native artists. Such traffic appears to have been particularly active during the Carlovingian period; while the close friendship of Charlemagne with Haroun al -Raschid, the celebrated caliph of the Saracens, renders it further probable that models of Oriental art abounded in the West in the ninth century. These were not merely confined to articles of jewellery and other goldsmith’s productions, but included also sumptuous dress materials interwoven with threads of gold, embroideries studded with gems and pearls, and other objects which the splendour of the rulers of the West and the princes of the Church borrowed from the magnificence prevalent in the East and at the Byzantine Court.28 The Eastern influence which during the fourth and fifth centuries had come westwards by way of Byzantium, and had acquired new power owing to the sovereignty of the Arabs in Spain and Sicily during the eighth and ninth centuries, increased considerably at the time of the Crusades. The knights and princes of the West brought back not only impressions of culture from Syria and Palestine, but also actual specimens of gold ornaments and precious stones. There then began an invasion of skilled workmen from the towns of Asia Minor, and a regular importation of such treasures by the merchants of the Italian republics, to wit, Venice, Genoa, and Pisa, who, under the banner of the Cross, re-established their trade with the East.29 Until about the twelfth century ornaments followed for the most part the style of those in use in the Eastern Roman provinces. Some were adorned with cloisonné enamel introduced from Byzantium, and first executed by Continental workmen about the eighth century. Cloisonné, however, was, in turn, abandoned for champlevé enamel, the manufacture of which upon the Lower Rhine had been encouraged by the Church, through the instrumentality of the Greek monks. By the beginning of the twelfth century, the West seems to have become lastingly independent of the East, even with regard to its ornaments, as may be inferred from various remarkable productions in gold and silver, and particularly in gilded copper adorned with champlevé enamel, such as shrines and other sacred objects. Many of these are still preserved in the ecclesiastical treasuries of Germany, while museums at home and abroad all possess beautiful examples. Though the personal ornaments of this period are now almost entirely lost to us in the original, there has yet been preserved a treasure of inestimable value in the form of a technological manual handed down from the Middle Ages. The work referred to is the famous treatise of Theophilus entitled Schedula Diversarum Avtium, which describes the technical processes of almost all the industrial arts cultivated eight centuries ago—the treatise being written shortly before the year 1100.30 After describing his workshop, Theophilus mentions his tools, and proceeds to describe minutely the various processes necessary for the metal-worker to understand; and shows how the goldsmith was required to be at the same time a modeller, sculptor, smelter, enameller, jewel-mounter, and inlay-worker. Altogether, to judge from the directions there given, more especially those relating to the technical work of the goldsmiths, these Schedulæ would seem to reflect the ancient knowledge and practices of Byzantine workmen, of which, however, the goldsmiths of the twelfth century appear to have become completely independent. The perfection of artistic work attained by the monasteries led to the production of sumptuous objects to meet the requirements of the Church in connection with its services, while costly shrines were made to contain the numerous relics brought home by pilgrims from the Holy Land. During the period of the Romanesque and early Gothic styles personal ornaments became objects of lesser importance than articles for ecclesiastical use.31 The enamel-work for the decoration of ornaments was mostly executed at Limoges, which was then rising to importance as the chief centre for the production of enamels. The process employed was champlevé, generally upon copper. Such ornaments as buckles, and brooches or morses, for the belts of knights or the vestments of ecclesiastics, were produced in considerable numbers at Limoges, and found their way all over the north-west of Europe. The trade-guilds of Limoges were probably more active in this kind of enamel than those situated upon the banks of the Rhine, whose work seems to have been devoted principally to shrines and objects for the use of the Church. Ornaments of the above types were executed during the greater part of the twelfth century and throughout the thirteenth, but their manufacture ceased in the century following, when Limoges was sacked by the Black Prince. From the beginning of the thirteenth century a change takes place with the appearance of the Gothic style. Forms become slighter and more elegant, and exhibit greater delicacy and detail in their workmanship. Hitherto goldsmith’s work, however beautiful from the cumulative effect of precious stones and enamels, was little more than conventional, nay, almost barbaric, in its representations of the human figure; but the revival in the art of figure sculpture led to a considerable use being made of the human figure executed in full relief. Just as in the Romanesque period, so during the time when Gothic art reigned supreme, architecture left its impress on every work of art; and jewellery and other goldsmith’s work, as well as ivories, seals, and even shoes, were ornamented with the designs of Gothic architecture and with pierced openwork patterns, like the window tracery of the great cathedrals—termed “Paul’s windows,” by the masses. Improved skill in design and workmanship became incompatible with the retention of the older and coarser enamel-work, and without relinquishing a medium which by the brilliancy of its colouring was eminently suited to the works of the goldsmith, the thirteenth-century craftsman obtained the desired result by the use of translucent enamel upon metal, usually silver, chased and modelled in low relief. The beauty of this basse-taille enamel, producing, as it were, transparent pictures, enabled the artist frequently to dispense with coloured gems, and retain only pearls, whose delicate hues harmonised better with his work. Occasionally, however, pearls, precious stones, and translucent enamels were employed together with brilliant effect. Gothic ornaments of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries show a peculiar love for figurative and architectural motives which exhibit astonishing technique and beauty of form. Towards the middle of the fourteenth century there came into use enamel on full relief (émail en ronde bosse). In the inventories of the time, where it is frequently mentioned, this enamel, usually opaque white, is termed émail en blanc. So charming was the contrast of white, marble-like figures by the side of gold, bright coloured stones, and polychrome enamels, that for upwards of three centuries goldsmiths continued to apply this species of enamel to jewels. It was particularly characteristic of the fifteenth century. Several brooches ornamented with it will be referred to later (p. 143); but the most remarkable example of its use is the wonderful votive jewel of French workmanship termed “Das Goldene Rössel,” in the treasury of the abbey church of Altoetting, in Bavaria, which dates from about 1400.32 The minute repoussé figures on sixteenth-century jewels were usually coated with white enamel; and jewellery émaillée de blanc is often alluded to in inventories. This species of enamel was discarded in the seventeenth century, when figures in relief went out of fashion for jewellery. Though towards the close of the Middle Ages the art of cutting precious stones and even diamonds was ertainly practised, yet it is to be observed that throughout the whole period jewellery is set as a rule with stones en cabochon, i.e. with their surfaces rounded and polished in a convex shape, but not faceted. The stone treated thus preserves its own character and individuality; and much of the charm of early jewellery is due to this very fact. From the middle of the thirteenth century enamel in general, though applied to jewels of commoner kinds, is chiefly limited to the more sumptuous ornaments of the clergy. But with the beginning of the fourteenth century the delight in jewellery enriched with enamels and precious stones is again revealed in the costumes of the laity. At the French Court of John II (le Bon, d. 1364) and Charles V (d. 1380), where the princes of the royal blood strove to outrival one another in luxurious display, personal adornments attained an extraordinary degree of splendour, and were worn to an excess of ostentation.33 This extravagance of fashion declined for a time owing to the wars with England, but attained its full development in the dress of the Burgundian Court. The splendour of the Burgundian dukes, outshining that of their feudal lieges the kings of France, and casting into the shade the rude grandeur of the German emperors, gave a new impetus to the use of articles for personal decoration, and for a time set the fashion for every country of northern Europe in all matters of style as well as of ornament. Outside of Italy, which perhaps excelled in point of culture, the Court of the dukes of Burgundy during the fifteenth century was the richest and most luxurious in all Europe. The sway of this powerful House extended over the Low Countries, whose ports after Venice were the centres of Oriental commerce and whose inland towns, such as Arras, Brussels, and Ghent, vied with one another in weaving the products of the East into all manner of rich stuffs. Not only silks, but pearls and precious stones of all descriptions, found an entrance through the great port of Bruges; and hardly a garment is depicted by the Flemish masters which, particularly in the case of the ecclesiastics, is not thick-sewn with Oriental pearls and stones. A survey of records containing descriptions of personal property,34 and an examination of contemporary pictures—always the most fascinating document in regard to personal ornament—reveal a widespread luxury. Not only at Court, but in the everyday life of street and mart, costumes formed of magnificent stuffs were habitually worn, which required to be set off by jewels of an equally rich description. The warmth of the Italian climate demanded no such wealth of apparel as was essential to comfort in the more northerly countries; hence profusion of personal ornament was less generally indulged in throughout Italy during the same period. This special love of jewellery and consequent taste and skill acquired by the goldsmiths was shared by the painters of the day. With a high degree of finish and brilliancy, they introduced into their pictures faithful representations of all the rich ornaments then in vogue. Unfortunately actual examples of the splendid jewels of this time are now of the utmost rarity, but such as have survived, chiefly in the form of rich enamelled brooches, reflect in their execution the technical perfection and in their design the whole-hearted realism which display themselves to the full in the paintings of the early Flemish school.
CHAPTER XII
MEDIAEVAL ENGLAND
A few brooches and finger rings are almost the only surviving examples of English jewellery of the eleventh to the fifteenth centuries. Yet there is evidence from existing records of an abundance of the most beautiful objects as accumulated in the ecclesiastical treasuries, and the great shrines, like that of St. Thomas of Canterbury, or of Our Lady of Walsingham Priory, which not even the Santa Casa at Loreto, or the shrine of St. James at Compostella, could surpass in renown, or equal in the reception of rich and costly gifts. Vast quantities of jewelled objects, which must have been in great part native productions, have also been tabulated in the inventories of our monarchs, princes, guilds, and corporations. Judg ing from extant examples of English painted glass, sculpture, and particularly embroidery, some estimate can be formed of the high quality of the goldsmiths work, which was scarcely excelled in the Middle Ages by that of any other country in Europe. The English goldsmiths, in fact, after the Norman Conquest seem to have lost none of the skill which is displayed on their earlier productions. A love of finery seems to have characterised the Court of William the Conqueror and his successors. The jewellery of the ladies became exceedingly extravagant, and is bitterly inveighed against by the religious satirists. Neckam, an Anglo-Latin poet, towards the close of the twelfth century, accuses them of covering themselves with gold and gems and of perforating their ears in order to hang them with jewels. Henry I had the tastes of a collector. That he collected gems is known from a letter written by a prior of Worcester to Edmer, Anselm’s biographer, in which he suggests that for money Henry might be persuaded to part with some pearls.35 King John was greatly attached to his jewels, and their loss in the Wash is commonly supposed to have hastened his death. The record is preserved concerning the loss on an earlier occasion of certain of his precious stones “which we are wont to wear round our neck.” The stones must have been credited with miraculous powers, for their finder was very liberally rewarded.36 Henry III, one of the most indigent of monarchs, made such extravagant presents of jewellery to his wife, that he was afterwards obliged to pawn not only his regalia, but a considerable portion of the jewels and precious stones accumulated at the shrine of Edward the Confessor at Westminster Abbey. Dating first from about this period are a number of inventories of personal ornaments; and it is by a perusal of the inventories of the most wealthy, and particularly those of sovereign princes, that an estimate can be obtained of the nature of every type of ornament in use at the period, in its most elaborate form. Among the earliest and most important royal inventories that have been published are those preserved in the Wardrobe Account (Liber Quotidianus) of Edward I, for the year 1299.37 The jewels (jocalia) include a large number of morses or clasps (firmacula) given by the king to bishops, and restored after their deaths, and similar objects offered by the king or queen to various shrines; while among other jewels are brooches or nouches (nouchea), many rings (anuli), a pendant (pendulum), belt (zona), bracelet (braccale), and baldrick (baudre). About this time masses of precious stones, the spoils of the Crusades, began to find their way into this country, and to be employed for “broidering” or sewing upon the garments. Edward II and his extravagant favourites, such as the worthless Piers Gaveston, loaded themselves with precious stones. Lists of jewels belonging to Gaveston on his attainder in 1313,38 and to the king in 1324, show the magnificence of their ornaments, and the vast sums at which they were valued. The king’s jewels,39 described in considerable detail, are inventoried under the following headings: (a) Stones and other objects, (b) Crowns of gold and silver, including cercles and chapeletz, (c) Brooches (fermails) of gold, (d) Fleures de liz, (e) Rings (anelx) of gold, (f) Girdles (ceintres) and diadems (tressoures). From this time onward there is an increase of such documents and of wills, and also of sumptuary laws specially connected with personal ornaments. The brilliant reign of Edward III40 was favourable to the full display of jewellery. New luxuries were imported in great abundance, and there was hardly a lady of position who had not in her possession some portion of the spoils of plate and jewels from cities beyond the sea; while those who, like the Knight of Chaucer, had been at Alexandria “when it was won,” returned with cloth of gold, velvets, and precious stones. In the thirty-seventh year of this reign (1363) the Parliament held at Westminster enacted several sumptuary laws against the extravagant use of personal adornment. These state what costume is suited to the various degrees of rank and income, and are of value for the information they supply on the prevailing fashions in jewellery. Restrictions of this kind, re-enacted from time to time, and apparently of little effect, seem to have been intended not so much to prevent the gratification of an instinctive desire for bravery and splendour. as to make different classes proclaim their rank and station by their dress. Chaucer in the Prologue of his Canterbury Tales affords in a charming manner additional information about the personal ornaments of the different grades of English society of his time. He gives detailed description of the brooch of the yeoman and the nun, and pictures the merchant with his richly clasped shoes, the squire with short knife and gypcière (purse) at his girdle, the carpenter’s wife with her collar fastened by a brooch as “broad as the boss of a buckler,” and various tradesmen who, in spite of sumptuary laws, wore pouches, girdles, and knives of silver:
Hir knives were ychaped not with bras
But all with silver wrought ful clene and wel
Hir girdeles and hir pouches every del.
The passion for personal ornaments, or “bravouries” as they were termed, reached its zenith in England during the reign of the elegant and unfortunate Richard II, whose courtiers outvied one another in such extravagances. An anonymous writer of the period quoted by Camden in his Remaines concerning Britain speaks of hoods, even those worn by men of moderate means, as commonly set with gold and precious stones, while “their girdles are of gold and silver, some of them worth twenty marks.” The king in constant want of money, was obliged on several occasions to deposit the royal jewels with the Corporation of London as security for loans, and detailed lists of the objects selected for the purpose are preserved in the inventories of the Exchequer, and among the city archives. In spite of attempted restrictions, and notwithstanding the disastrous Wars of the Roses, immense demands appear to have been made upon the productive powers of the jewellers throughout the whole of the fifteenth century. The remarkable list of Henry IV’s jewels in the inventories of the Exchequer, and the most important of royal English inventories of the Middle Ages, that taken after the death of Henry V in 1422 (Rotuli Parliamentorum, IV, pp. 214-241), serve to show that until the end of the century, which may serve as the termination of the period, extraordinary extravagance in the style and nature of ornaments as well as of costume was the order of the day. Every one who had acquired wealth, or even a modest competence only, displayed a magnificence far beyond his means. It was a time when wealth was required in a compact and tangible form. Owners did not hesitate to melt down their jewels when desirous of employing them for other purposes. The change of taste which shortly came about tended towards similar destruction while the Wars of the Roses involved the breaking up of much that was most sumptuous in material and beautiful in workmanship. Throughout the whole of the Christian Middle Ages the highest efforts of the goldsmith were directed to the enrichment of the Church and the adornment of its ministers, and the magnificence which the ritual of the Church fostered found expression in the jewelled ornaments of ecclesiastic vestments. In Norman times ecclesiastical jewellery was extremely luxurious and costly, and the illuminations of the period show the cope and chasuble richly bordered with precious stones. St. Thomas à Becket wore an extraordinary profusion of jewels, and descriptions are preserved of the magnificence of his own person and of his attendants during a progress he once made through the streets of Paris. Innocent III, memorable in this country as the Pope to whom the pusillanimous John surrendered his crown, is recorded to have commented on the richness of the costumes and ornaments of the English clergy, with a hint at the possibility of extracting further sums for the increase of the papal revenue. The early inventories all record the splendour of the vestments used in public worship, and show how pearls, precious stones, and even ancient cameos, all rendered more beautiful by exquisite settings, were employed for their enrichment. No bishop, indeed, was suitably equipped without a precious mitre with delicate goldsmiths work and inlaid gems, without a splendid morse or brooch to fasten his cope, and without a ring, set with an antique gem or a stone en cabochon, to wear over his embroidered glove. Of all these rich ornaments scarcely any examples have survived save a number of rings recovered from the graves of ecclesiastics. All the more precious, therefore, are the jewelled ornaments bequeathed in 1404 by William of Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, to New College, Oxford, where they are still preserved as relics of its munificent founder. These unique examples of mediæeval jewellery date from the closing years of the fourteenth century—the period of transition from Decorated to Perpendicular architecture: a time when Gothic art had reached its climax; and not only the architect, but the painter and the goldsmith were still devoting their utmost efforts on behalf of the Church, the centre of the whole mediæval system. The New College jewels originally decorated William of Wykeham’s precious mitre (mitra pretiosa). Portions of the groundwork of the mitre sewn with seed pearls, and its original case of cuir bouilli or boiled leather, stamped with fleurs-de-lis and bound with iron straps, are still preserved in the College. Among the jewelled fragments are hinged bands of silver gilt, formed of plates of basse-taille enamel representing animals and grotesques, which alternate with settings of dark blue pastes and white crystals surrounded by radiating pearls. These bands probably went round the lower part of the mitre, and also perhaps ran up the middle of it, before and behind. The crests of the mitre were edged with strips of exquisitely chased crocketing in gold. The other fragments include two rosettes of beautifully executed Gothic foliation set with white crystals, together with two quatrefoils in silver gilt and a cruciform gold ornament set with turquoises. The chief treasure of the New College collection is an exquisite gold jewel, a monogram of the Blessed Virgin, the patron saint of the “College of St. Mary of Winton in Oxford.” It is a crowned Lombardic M; and might be the rich capital of some mediæval manuscript, with its gorgeous colouring faithfully translated into gold, enamel, pearls, and precious stones. In the open parts of the letter are figures of the Virgin and the Angel of the Annunciation in full relief, the angel’s wings being covered with enamel of translucent green. The space above the head of each figure is occupied with delicate architectural work of open cuspings. In the centre of the jewel is a large ruby in the form of a vase, from which spring three lilies with white enamelled blossoms. On each side of the vase are three small emeralds. Remarkable taste is shown in the arrangement of the precious stones: fine emeralds and rubies, en cabochon, mounted alternately in raised settings round the jewel. Two stones, a ruby on the left and an emerald on the right, are missing. The rest of the mountings are Oriental pearls somewhat discoloured by age (Pl. XV, 1). It is generally considered that the jewel adorned and occupied a central place on the mitre, and its dimensions (2 by 21/4 inches) render its employment in that position probable. As, however, there are no indications of such an ornament on contemporary representations of mitres, and above all on the mitre figured on the founder’s own tomb at Winchester, there remains the possibility of the jewel having been employed as a brooch or nouche on some other part of the vestment. This remarkable jewel stands quite alone in point of excellence. It goes far to justify the contention that English jewellers at this period, as well as in Saxon times, equalled, if they did not outstrip, the craftsmen of other nations in the successful cultivation of the goldsmith’s art.
CHAPTER XIII
THE MYSTERY OF PRECIOUS STONES
One of the most curious and interesting facts in connection with the jewellery of the Middle Ages is the peculiar respect which seems to have been paid to precious stones. “In a scientific age,” says Mr. Paton, “it is difficult to apprehend and sympathise with the state of mind which endowed natural objects with the properties of charms and fetiches. Before it was the habit to trace phenomena to natural causes, faith in occult powers was strong, and credulity exercised a marked influence on the habits Precious stones, on acand actions of the people.”41 count of the mystery and romance attaching to most things of Eastern origin, had long attracted to themselves a superstitious reverence; so that their choice and arrangement, which appear to us merely arbitrary nowadays, had in the Middle Ages a distinct meaning consecrated by traditions dating back from very ancient times. Every stone, like those which enriched the breastplate of the High Priest, and those which in St. John’s vision formed the foundations of the Heavenly Jerusalem, was supposed to possess special powers and virtues. Abundant proof of this is exhibited in the mediæeval inventories, where the beauty or rarity of a stone counted for infinitely less in the estimation of its value than the reputed talismanic virtue, such as the toadstone, for example, was supposed to possess. The mediæeval literature of precious stones,42 wherein is expounded their medicinal virtues or their supernatural powers in baffling evil spirits, is based on a classical poem of about the fourth century A.D., entitled Lithica, which claims to be a statement of their magic properties made by the seer Theodamas to the poet Orpheus. Similar belief in the virtues of precious stones was still in existence in the sixteenth century, and finds an exponent in Camillus Leonardus, physician to Cæsar Borgia, in his work entitled Speculum Lapidum, published at Venice in 1502. Even as late as the following century the use of precious stones as charms was more than half sanctioned by the learned, and in his Natural History Bacon lays it down as credible that “precious stones may work by consent upon the spirits of men to comfort and exhilarate them.” The learned lawyer and philosopher, indeed, was not in this much superior to the plain and simple folk who still imagined that every precious stone had some mystic value communicable to the wearer. About the same time De Boot, or Boethius, the learned physician to the Emperor Rudolf II, published his famous Lapidary, which Mr. C. W. King recommends as a work worthy of especial study for the properties of stones, and mentions how it “ draws a distinction that curiously illustrates the struggle then going on between traditional superstition and common sense.”43 With the advance of Christianity the representation of the subjects of pagan mythology was forbidden by law; but the old ideas were retained for many years, and small objects like cameos or intaglios were carried about concealed upon the person. Later on, when all knowledge of classical art had sunk into oblivion, such stones became prized not only for the subjects engraved on them, which their mediæval owner seldom understood, but also for the fact that they were supposed to possess special talismanic virtues. The majority of these gems were mounted as rings or as seals of secular and ecclesiastical personages of rank. Preserved among the Harleian MSS. in the British Museum is a thirteenth-century MS. (quoted by Mr. Wright in Archæologia, Vol. XXX), which contains instructions for the wearing of various stones, and for the composition of the different metals of the rings in which they were to be set. A proof of the firm establishment of the Romans in Britain is afforded by the number of their gems brought to light in mediæeval times; while the decay of the art of gemengraving in the Middle Ages is shown by the fact that the Harleian MS. always refers to these gems as objects “to be found and not made. . . . A stone engraved in one manner you should suspend about the neck, as it enables you to find treasures, the impression in wax of another stone will cause men to speak well of you.” The engraving of a dove with a branch of olive in its mouth should be mounted in a silver ring, and another gem should be placed in a ring of lead. From these and similar writings it is clear that one of the objects aimed at by the mediæeval authors was to define the different virtues of the sigils engraved upon precious stones. Such ideas, not previously unknown, as, for example, among the Gnostics, were no doubt stimulated by the Crusades, whereby the study of alchemy and the interest in Oriental mysteries became spread throughout Europe. Leonardus, as late as the sixteenth century, observes that stones “if engraved by a skilful person or under some particular influence, will receive a certain virtue. . . . But if the effect intended by the figure engraved be the same as that produced by the natural quality of the stone, its virtue will be doubled, and its efficacy augmented.” We see thus that the talismanic ideas respecting precious stones were attached as much to their engraving as to the stones themselves. Owing to the complete decline of the glyptic art in the Middle Ages, antique cameos and intaglios, on account of some fancied assimilation in subject or idea to Christian symbolism, were occasionally used for devout subjects. Together with the general ignorance of classical art, and the consequent attempts that were made to give the pagan representation upon antique gems a Christian signification—frequently in a very forced and curious manner—there appears to have been a certain appreciation of their beauty. When small relics, such as particles of the wood of the cross, or larger relics, as bones of the saints, were enclosed either in portable reliquaries or in costly shrines, such receptacles were not infrequently encrusted with ancient cameos and intaglios, as representing the very choicest objects which the fervent devotion of the age could select for this sacred purpose. The Shrine of the Three Kings at Cologne44 and the Treasure of Conques45 are still enriched with many fine examples of the gem engraver’s art, and the magnificent gold shrine of Edward the Confessor in Westminster Abbey, long since despoiled, was formerly mounted with numerous cameos, all probably antique.46 The history of the glyptic art has been sufficiently encroached upon here to demonstrate the prominent place occupied by antique gems in the personal ornaments of the Middle Ages. Their use for signet rings will be referred to again; but attention must be drawn to the three most remarkable examples of their application to other articles of jewellery—the Jewel of St. Hilary and the Cameo of Charles V in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, and the Schaffhausen Onyx, preserved among the archives of the town of Schaffhausen in Switzerland (Pl. XVI). The Jewel of St. Hilary contains a fine cameo head in profile of the Emperor Augustus on a sardonyx. It is enclosed in a frame of silver gilt set with large rubies, sapphires, and pearls. The jewel was formerly employed as a pectoral or breast-ornament upon a silver reliquary bust of St. Hilary preserved in the Treasury of St. Denis. On the dispersal of the Treasury in 1791, the jewel was removed to the Bibliothèque Nationale. It The framework dates from the twelfth century. measures 31/2 by 21/2 inches.47 The Cameo of Charles V of France, a sardonyx of three layers, dating from Imperial Roman times, represents a full-length figure of Jupiter. It is mounted in the gold frame in which it was presented to the Treasury at Chartres by the King. Such prophylactic verses48 as are found frequently side by side upon amulets and in cabalistic formulae of the Middle Ages, are inscribed round its edge on a ground of blue and red enamel, together with the opening words of St. John’s Gospel, which were supposed to serve as a protection, particularly against demons and thunder. The figure of Jupiter with the eagle probably passed for a representation of the evangelist. At the lower part is a crowned escutcheon bearing the arms of France, and on the crown is an inscription recording the presentation of the jewel by Charles V in the year 1367.49 This beautiful example of French jewellery of the fourteenth century is 6 inches in length and 3 in width. Of slightly later date than the Jewel of St. Hilary, and of far more elaborate workmanship, though perhaps less well known on account of its somewhat remote situation, is the Schaffhausen Onyx. The stone, a fine sardonyx, is a Roman cameo of a female figure carrying a cornucopia and caduceus, and intended to represent Peace. Its setting, a superb specimen of mediæval goldwork, is mounted with figures of eagles and lions, chased in full relief and arranged in regular order between high bezels set with garnets, sapphires, pearls, and turquoises. The outside measurement of the jewel is 6 by 5 inches, and that of the stone 31/2 by 3.50 The large part played by superstition in the ornaments of the Middle Ages need not be further enlarged on. The virtues of charms were not only associated with gems and precious stones; for mystic letters, cabalistic inscriptions, and other devices were among the chief features of mediæeval jewellery. Such devices lingered long after the Renaissance of learning had partially dispelled the mysticism of the Middle Ages; while similar superstitions in respect to precious stones are even now not entirely extinct, in spite of the assurances of modern science.
CHAPTER XIV
MEDIAEVAL HEAD-ORNAMENTS AND NECKLACES
Head-ornaments from the tenth to the sixteenth century belong for the most part rather to the general history of costume than to that of jewellery proper; and it will be unnecessary to follow those extravagances of fashion which, especially during the fifteenth century, were presented by the head-dress of women. More germane to the subject are the fillets, bands, and chaplets worn throughout the Middle Ages by women when their heads were uncovered, and during a more limited period by men also. The original form of these was a ribbon, which encircled the brow, held back the hair from the face, and adjusted the veil; while wreaths, either of natural flowers or of plain gold, were a frequent decoration for young women. Hence the bands or chaplets, which took their motives from those more simple ornaments, were made either wholly of metal (cercles), or of gold flowers sewn upon an embroidered band (described in inventories as chapeletz), both forms being enriched with pearls and precious stones. The fillet later on became a heavy band composed of separate pieces of metal joined by hinges, and showed such close resemblance to the broad belts of the knights, that in the inventory of Edward II, quoted above, tressoures and ceintures are entered together under one heading. The wearing of such head-ornaments was not confined exclusively to the nobility, for the receipt of a sale of jewels by Agnes Chalke, spicer of London, to a certain John of Cambridge in 1363, includes a “coronal of gold, wrought with stones, that is to say, with rubyes, saphirs, emeralds, and pearls.”51 Exquisite circlets set with these gems are worn by the choir of singing and music-making angels on the wings of the Van Eycks’ famous “Ghent Altar-piece” in the Berlin Museum. The fillet, whether a complete circle or hinged, received about the fourteenth century additional enrichments in the form of trefoils, fleurs-de-lis, crosses, and foliations, erected on cuspings upon its upper edge. A simple but charming example of a circlet, dating from the fourteenth century, is preserved in the Musée du Cinquantenaire at Brussels. It is of silver gilt, formed of hinged plaques, each mounted with from three to four collets set with pearls, and with pastes in imitation of precious stones, while additional ornaments in the form of fleurs-de-lis are fixed erect upon it (Pl. XVII, 9). From the diadem of this character originated the coronets worn by those of high or noble rank; the use of these, amid the ceremonies of later courts, crystallised into a system of class privilege. Such diadems or coronets approach the form of the regal crown, which in England, as early as the eleventh century, was enriched with rays and floriations. The regal crown, with which we are not immediately concerned,52 by the addition of arches, was converted about the fifteenth century into what is technically known as the “close” crown. Round the helmets of knights in the fifteenth century ornamental wreaths called ovles were worn: these, originally composed of two bands of silk twisted together, were afterwards richly jewelled. One of the most famous of jewelled hats was that of Charles the Bold, thickly encrusted with huge pearls and precious stones, which was captured by the Swiss after his death at the battle of Nancy in 1477.53 Of female ornaments of the same period it need only be stated that the elaborate head-dresses, such as the cornette, escoffion, and henin—it is sometimes difficult to imagine how women had sufficient strength to keep them balanced on their heads—were profusely adorned with pearls, gold spangles, and precious stones, and in some cases with crowns or crown-shaped combs of elaborate goldwork enriched with gems. The Italians, with more refined taste, seem, as will be observed (p. 171), to have escaped from such extravagances sooner than the rest of Europe, and to have been content for the most part with a simple bandeau encircling the forehead. Among the most interesting varieties of personal ornaments in the Middle Ages are certain jewels or brooches worn in the hat, and known as enseignes. From the lead signs or ornaments worn by pilgrims there was gradually evolved a special class of jewels on which the great artists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries exercised their utmost skill, and which at the present day are among the most highly prized of all early articles of personal jewellery. Rivers near large cities have supplied us with much of the knowledge we possess of the manners and habits of those who in former times dwelt upon their banks. Whenever dredging or digging disturbs the beds of such rivers, objects of antiquity, which seem to have gravitated there, are sure to be discovered. The municipal museum of many a city of ancient foundation preserves choice works of antiquity recovered from its river’s bed. Among the most remarkable objects brought to light in this manner are certain curious mediaeval ornaments, which belong to the age that has bequeathed exceedingly few examples of articles for personal use. The ornaments referred to are the small badges or signs of lead, given or sold, as tokens, to mediæval pilgrims to the shrines of saints or martyrs, and known as “Pilgrims’ Signs.” They were obtained from the attendants at shrines and exhibitions of relics, who kept ready a large variety bearing the effigy or device of some particular saint, or the symbol that had reference to his acts of worship. Each sign or token was pierced with holes, or more frequently had a pin cast in one piece with it, making it available as a brooch. It was thus fastened to the hat or other portion of the pilgrim’s dress as a testimony of his having visited the particular shrine indicated by the token. These badges, which date from about the thirteenth to the fifteenth century, were manufactured at the churches or monasteries to which pilgrimages were made. Moulds for casting them are preserved in the British Museum and the Guildhall Museum; and a forge was found at Walsingham Priory where the sacristan melted the metals employed for their manufacture.54 It will be outside the present purpose to enumerate all the varieties of form assumed by these interesting and historically most valuable objects. Important collections of them are preserved in the British Museum and Guildhall Museum in London, and in the Musée Cluny, Paris (Pl. XVII, 1-4). In England the most popular relics were those of Our Lady of Walsingham Priory, and particularly those of St. Thomas of Canterbury, whose signs, according to a statement of Giraldus Cambrensis, were worn as early as the twelfth century. The anonymous author of the supplement to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales speaks of the purchase of signs by Chaucers party on the occasion of their pilgrimage to Canterbury, and remarks that on their departure from the Cathedral “they sett their signys upon their hedes, and som upon their capp.” And Erasmus, in his Colloguy of the pilgrimage for veligion’s sake, notes that pilgrims were “covered on every side with images of tin and lead.” Judging from the number and variety of the badges relating to the murdered archbishop, Becket, his shrine must have enjoyed a widespread popularity, though the scallop-shell of St. James of Compostella was perhaps more universally recognised as a pilgrim’s sign than any other. These signs or signacula were worn not only on a pilgrimage, but also formed a customary decoration for the hat. Some, even in early times, perhaps as early as the thirteenth century, though partaking of a religious character, do not seem to have had reference to any particular shrine, and referred simply to incidents in popular religious legends. Others were merely symbols or emblems; vet, like the majority of mediæeval trinkets, they nearly all displayed religious motives and were supposed to possess talismanic powers. Louis XI, the cruel and superstitious King of France, commonly wore such signs, particularly those of the celebrated Notre-Dame d’Embrun, stuck round his hat; and on a visit to Henry, King of Castile, he wore, so Philip de Comines informs us, a very old hat with leaden images upon it. It is very evident that we have here the origin of the hat-ornaments or enseignes of gold and silver, and enriched with precious stones and enamels, which, coming first into use in the fifteenth century, became extremely popular in the sixteenth, and were worn on almost every man’s hat, and sometimes on those of women, until the middle of the seventeenth century. Like those obtained at the shrines, they bore at first the figure of a saint—generally a patron saint—or a figure of the Virgin. Of signs such as these, some came to represent the actual badge of the wearer or of some one to whom he was affectionately attached, while others took the form of badges of livery, and were worn in the hats of the retainers of great families. Philip de Comines records that Lord Bourchier, Governor of Calais, 1470, wore a ragged staff of gold upon his bonnet.
This was the badge of the Earl of Warwick, and all his attendants had ragged staves likewise. A leaden enseigne of a bear and ragged staff (the House of Warwick), a crowned ostrich feather (Duke of Norfolk). a hound (Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury), and a dolphin (badge of the Dauphin—afterwards Louis XI—and his faction, the Armagnacs), together with others of a similar nature, are in the British Museum (Pl. XVII, 5-8). The badges of the Kings of England were employed in the same manner: and among the British Museum collection is a hart lodged—the badge of Richard II, and in the Guildhall a broom-pod (genista) of the Plantagenets, and a crown of fleurs-de-lis—the badge of Henry V. A considerable number of small shield-shaped bronze and copper pendants, enamelled with coats of arms, and having a ring above for suspension, seem also to have served as badges. There is the possibility that some were worn by the servants of nobility as enseignes upon the hat, or perhaps on the left arm or breast. But the majority appear to have been employed for the decoration of horse-harness.55
Mediæval hat-badges of gold are of extreme rarity. The Franks Bequest in the British Museum contains a choice example. It is a fifteenth-century Flemish jewel of gold, representing a “pelican in her piety” standing upon a scroll, and set with a ruby and a small pointed diamond (Pl. XVII, 11). In the Victoria and Albert Museum is a circular gold enseigne of open-work enriched with Gothic foliations. The outer rim is set with seven small rubies. In the centre is an antique onyx cameo representing a lion. It is Spanish work of the second half of the fifteenth century (Pl. XVII, 10). These two jewels are clearly hat-ornaments; but it is often difficult to distinguish between a brooch or nouche intended to be worn upon the dress and a hatbrooch, though the latter can, as a rule, be distinguished by its form or by its subject. The enseigne was sometimes employed like a brooch for fastening a plume decoration, but as a rule served as an independent ornament, and appears on the paintings, sculpture, and tapestry of the fifteenth century attached to the side of the head-gear. It became a jewel of still greater importance in the sixteenth century, and will be further dealt with among the jewellery of the Renaissance. The talismanic properties associated with the signacula procured at the shrines were extended to many objects of base metal, as brooches and finger-rings, which had been placed in contact with relics of saints, or blessed at their shrines. Brooches and rings also of gold and silver bear talismanic inscriptions. A common inscription is the names of the Three Kingsas on the Glenlyon brooch-which originated in pilgrimages to the shrine of the Kings of the East in the church of Sant’ Eustorgio at Milan, or more probably to that in Cologne Cathedral. The names of the “Three Kings of Collein” were considered to be a charm against epilepsy or the “falling sickness.” Many personal ornaments of base metal, however, are quite unconnected with any religious practice or with pilgrims signs; for objects of pewter are often merely replicas of more precious jewels in gold and silver, and must have been worn by the poorer classes. The fact that several are plated or washed with silver shows that they were intended to pass for the real objects. Yet they are of considerable importance, since we find among them types of ornaments which do not exist in the precious metals. It may be suggested that some were made as models for real articles of jewellery; but we are, unfortunately, not in possession of evidence (such as can be produced in connection with the jewellery of the Renaissance) which can offer any likelihood that this is actually the case with these mediæeval ornaments.
EARRINGS
Though common in the Merovingian and Carlovingian epoch, earrings appear to have been worn only to a limited extent, and that at the commencement of the period at present under discussion. Pendants formed of quadrilateral prisms set on each side with cabochon garnets and hung with small strings of garnet beads are attached to the ears of the tenth-century figure of St. Foy in the treasury at Conques; though it is not impossible that these, like many of the gems that adorn the statue, may be of earlier workmanship. That the Byzantine style of earring, of crescent form. was worn during the eleventh and twelfth centuries is evident from a twelfth-century bronze ewer, in the shape of a head of a woman, of Flemish work, in the Museum of Budapest.56 Earrings, however, enjoyed no great popularity during the Middle Ages, and the cause of this must be traced to the fashion which prescribed for women a style of coiffure by which the hair fell down at the sides, or was covered by a veil, which would have effectively hidden any ornaments for the ear. It was only at the end of the fourteenth century that fashion again allowed the hair to be worn high. Pendent rings of gold for ladies’ ears are mentioned in the Roman de la Rose, and statues occasionally exhibit short earrings, pearls attached to the lobe of the ear, or stones in the form of drops. Earrings, indeed, did not come into very common use until the close of the fifteenth or the beginning of the sixteenth century.
NECKLACES AND COLLARS
The custom of wearing necklaces and neck-chains was much more limited during the Middle Ages than it had been in antiquity and at the time of the great migrations. Women’s necklaces can hardly be proved to have been in general use before the end of the fourteenth century, and during the Middle Ages seldom attained the exaggerated style they exhibited at the period of the Renaissance. They consisted mostly of plaited cords of gold wire, and probably of single or double chains of pearls. These originally encircled the throat, but at a later date were worn more upon the breast. Though many forms of personal ornament are mentioned in early wills and inventories. we rarely meet with a reference to the necklace until the fourteenth century; nor is it pictured on monumental effigies or brasses until the beginning of the century following. If worn at all prior to this date, it must simply have served the purpose of supporting pendants of various forms known as pentacols. These neck-chains, or collars as they were termed. soon began to receive additional enrichment, and the inventories of the fifteenth century contain frequent descriptions of necklets adorned with enamels and precious stones. Eleanor, Countess of Arundel (1455), bequeathed to her daughter “a golden collar for the neck, with a jewel set with precious stones hanging thereat.” The fashion for rich necklaces was especially in vogue at the luxurious Court of the Dukes of Burgundy; nor had the Court of Richard II been behindhand in the display of this species of ornament, for the magnificent wedding presents of his wife, Isabella of France, included a collar of gold set with precious stones of immense value. The word carcanet seems to have come into use about this time for rich necklaces of precious stones, and to have been applied a little later to the bands of jewels commonly entwined in ladies’ hair. Though never so generally worn as in the sixteenth century, a considerable number of these jewelled ornaments are represented in the exquisite paintings of the fifteenth century. One of the most elaborate of all is the superb gold necklet, brilliantly enamelled with small and many-coloured flowers, shown on the portrait of Maria, wife of Pierantonio Baroncelli, in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence, by an unknown Flemish painter of the latter part of the fifteenth century. Close by, in the same gallery, is Van der Goes’ celebrated triptych, presented to the Spedale di Santa Maria Nuova by Tommaso Portinari, agent of the Medici in Bruges. Upon the right wing is Maria, wife of the donor, with her daughter. The former wears a magnificent necklace of exquisite design, its interlacing goldwork shaped into the form of roses, enamelled red, white, and blue, each set respectively with a sapphire, a ruby, and a large pearl. The latter is adorned with a necklace composed of a double row of pearls connected by oval jewelled ornaments; beneath is hung a trefoilshaped pendant set with rubies, to which is attached a large drop-pearl (p. 117). A precisely similar ornament is seen in another work by Van der Goes, painted about 1473—the well-known portrait of Margaret, queen of James III of Scotland, now at Holyrood.57 This picture was probably executed in Flanders from material supplied by the donor, and the artist appears to have adorned Queen Margaret with the same beautiful necklace, probably of Florentine workmanship, which he had seen round the neck of Signorina Portinari. Jane Shore, the beautiful and unfortunate mistress of Edward IV, and wife of the rich jeweller of Lombard Street, is represented in her two portraits, one at King’s College, Cambridge, and the other at Eton, wearing elaborate necklaces. Around her throat are two strings of pearls, with a necklet below of circular pieces of Gothic pattern, supporting a lozenge-shaped pendant of similar design adorned with pearls. Among sculptured representations of the necklet the most interesting is that on the monument of Sir John Crosby (d. 1475) and his wife in St. Helen’s Church, Bishopsgate, where the latter wears a very handsome necklace of roses, to which is attached a cluster of three roses with three pendants below. Sir John’s collar is somewhat similarly formed of rosette-shaped ornaments. An early instance of a heavy neck-chain of gold, worn upon the breast, is to be seen upon the famous tapestry considered to represent Henry VI and his Queen, in St. Mary’s Hall, Coventry. Collars of extraordinary richness seem to have been worn by Henry IV; for among the miscellaneous documents preserved at St. Paul’s Cathedral58 is a list of various jewels set with diamonds both large and small, with balas rubies, sapphires, and clusters of pearls, which were to be employed for making collars for the king and queen. The Inventories of the Exchequer contain frequent reference to what is termed the Tklyngton Coler. This magnificent collar, which was frequently pawned by Henry VI, was enriched with four rubies, four large sapphires, thirty-two great pearls, and fifty-three pearls of a lesser sort.59 In addition to the purelyornamental necklaces, collars or chains of “livery” —bearing the heraldic devices of the day—were assumed by various royal and noble families, and were bestowed as marks of favour or friendship on persons of various ranks, and both sexes, who wore them as badges of adherence to those families. An instance of the bestowal of a chain of this kind occurred in 1477 after the siege of Quesnoy by Louis XI, who, witnessing a great feat of gallantry on the part of Raoul de Lannoy, is reported to have placed on his neck a chain of great value, and to have thus wittily addressed him: “Mon ami, vous êtes trop furieux en un combat; il faut vous enchaîner, car je ne veux point vous perdre, désirant me servir encore de vous plusieurs fois.” Richard II, as shown by the Earl of Pembroke’s remarkable picture of that monarch at Wilton, wore, in addition to his device the white hart, a collar of broom- pods. Henry IV employed the well-known collar of SS, derived from his father John of Gaunt. The collar of Edward IV was composed of two of his badges, the sun in its splendour, and the white rose; while a third, the white lion of March, was added as a pendant. Richard III retained the Yorkist collar, substituting for the lion pendant a boar.60 Private family collars were also worn, and an early instance of one occurs in the brass of Thomas Lord Berkeley (1417) in the church of Wootton-under-Edge, Gloucestershire; the band round the neck being charged with mermaids, the badge of the Berkeleys. The SS collar is the best known of all. It is composed of the letter S in gold repeated indefinitely, either fixed on velvet or some material, or forming the links of a chain. The letters are generally united by knots; they sometimes terminate with portcullises and have a pendent rose. The collar is still worn by the Lord Chief Justice, the Lord Mayor of London, and the chief heralds—that belonging to the Lord Mayor being an original and beautiful example of English jewellery of the sixteenth century. Despite all that has been written upon the SS collar no conclusive explanation has been offered as to its origin and meaning.61 Several representations of livery collars appear upon monumental effigies of the latter half of the fifteenth century, and there is frequent mention of them in the inventories of the same period, but, with the exception of the SS collar, they are not met with at all in the sixteenth century.
CHAPTER XV
MEDIAEVAL PENDANTS, ROSARIES, AND POMANDERS
The wearing of religious emblems in the form of pendants by the Christians of the Middle Ages was possibly, in the first place, the unconscious perpetuation of pagan superstition. The demand for a convenient mode of carrying a reliquary may account in some degree for the use of necklaces in early times. Relics of the saints and of the Passion of our Lord were most eagerly sought after by mediæval Christendom, and whenever a relic of unusual importance was obtained, all the resources of the art of the time were employed to give it a worthy setting. The most famous of early pendent reliquaries was that worn by the Emperor Charlemagne, which contained relics from the Crown of Thorns and the True Cross, presented to him by Haroun al-Raschid. The reliquary was buried with him in 814, and found at the opening of his tomb at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1169. In 1804 it was given to the Emperor Napoleon by the clergy of Aix, and was afterwards the property of Napoleon III; but it disappeared during the troublous times that terminated the Second Empire. The relics were enclosed under a large sapphire magnificently set in gold and precious stones62 (Pl. XVIII, 4). Another historical relic of the early Middle Ages was the enamelled gold cross suspended from a chain, which was stolen from the tomb of Edward the Confessor in Westminster Abbey in 1685 and given to James II. It was only lost sight of in the early part of the nineteenth century.63 Portable reliquaries in former times were often made of two plates of rock crystal or other transparent stones hinged together so as to form a box. An exquisite example of this style of ornament, and one of the most remarkable mediæval jewels, is the socalled reliquary of St. Louis in the British Museum. It is of gold, set with two large bean-shaped amethysts which act as covers to an inner case with a lid, enclosing what purports to be a spike from the Crown of Thorns. The back of this receptacle, as well as the insides of the covers, is enriched with minute translucent enamels representing the Crucifixion and other scenes from the Passion and the life of Christ (Pl. XVIII, 5). The jewel is said to have been given by St. Louis (who bought the Crown of Thorns from Baldwin, King of Jerusalem) to a king of Aragon, but the style of the work is somewhat later than the time of St. Louis, and dates from about the year 1310. It was formerly in the collection of Baron Pichon, and was presented to the British Museum by Mr. George Salting in 1902. The pendent ornaments of the Middle Ages not only served as receptacles for relics, but also took the form of crosses, medallions, votive tablets, and monograms. Though these do not attain the same importance as the pendants of the Renaissance, their extraordinary variety is proved by the inventories of the thirteenth to the fifteenth century, while their beauty is attested by the few examples that have fortunately been preserved. Small votive tablets, that is to say diptychs or triptychs with hinged wings, were exceedingly popular as personal ornaments, judging by their frequent occurrence in the inventories under the title of tableau or tabulet. They were suspended from the girdle or neck-chain. Some are painted with delicate translucent enamels; others contain figures in high relief wrought in metal, or carvings in boxwood of minute dimensions. The last are generally Flemish, while the others, of which there are several splendid examples in the Victoria and Albert Museum, are mostly of French or of English workmanship. A very remarkable silver-gilt pendant in the form of the Devil of temptation, with the forbidden fruit in one hand and a crozier, signifving power, in the other, is shown on Plate XIX, 9. It is Burgundian work of the second half of the fifteenth century, and is the property of Mrs. Percy Macquoid. An interesting class of pendants is formed by a somewhat extensive series of silver and silver-gilt ornaments produced by German craftsmen of the fifteenth century. The National Museum at Munich, where several fine examples of this kind are preserved, possesses one of more than ordinary interest. It is of silver-gilt, about five inches in length, composed of elaborate Gothic tracery, in shape not unlike the tall Gothic tabernacles of South Germany, of which that by Adam Kraft in St. Lawrence’s Church at Nuremberg is perhaps the finest example. A niche on each of its four sides contains the figure of a saint, and above, half hidden among the tracery, are four female figures. The jewel is surmounted by the Virgin and Child, and has three rings above for suspension and one below (Pl. XIX, 1). Other examples of South German goldsmith’s work of the fifteenth and early sixteenth century take the form of small pendent charms picturing some religious theme. The figure of a saint was naturally a favourite subject, since it was supposed to possess special prophylactic powers. The variety of the subjects thus represented can be admirably judged from an important series of such pendants at South Kensington. In addition to these, which are mostly of cast silver, other pendants of the same period include silver plaques, nielloed, engraved, or in relief; and likewise fine cameos or reliefs of mother-of-pearl, and carvings in ivory and wood, set in coronets of silver-gilt. Mediæval neck-pendants were, as has been observed, known as pentacols. In the inventory of Edward III in 133964 we find a pentacol composed of a large Scotch pearl (perle d’Escoce) and an image of Our Lady in enamel; and “un pentacol dor od. iiij. petites ameraldes et iiij petites rubies environ, et une camahue en mylieu.” In mediæval inventories and wills the Latin word monile signified not only a necklace, but jewels hung at the neck. The same term was also employed for the morse, particularly when the latter had a ring for suspension. Many pendants, generally provided with quatrefoil rings, come from South Germany (like one shown on Plate XVIII, 1), and especially from Bohemia —there is a good collection of them in the cathedral treasury of Prague.65 The majority are silver-gilt, and set with a plaque of mother-of-pearl or crystal, and are usually hollow, to contain relics. The term monile was further applied to brooches or nouches; and the nouches described in such detail in the English inventories of the fifteenth century, which will be mentioned later when the subject of brooches is dealt with, may in part have been employed as ornaments for the necklace. Various monilia or pendants, containing small relics, verses from the Bible, the names of Christ or the Virgin written upon vellum or upon metal, and perhaps also ancient magic spells—all possessing the virtues of talismans, were worn by chains or cords round the neck, and in some instances very likely hidden under the upper garment. The early Church, in many an edict, declared itself against this form of superstition, yet such pendants or phylacteries—a term applied to any amulet worn about the person against evil of all kinds -appear to have been extensively used. Another and popular pendant from the fourteenth to the sixteenth century, which is frequently cited in inventories, but now rarely met with, takes the form of a small circular box or capsule bearing in front an Agnus Dei in niello or repoussé, surrounded by a corded edging. Such boxes were intended for the preservation of a roundel of wax moulded from the remains of the Paschal candle at Rome with an impression of the sacred Lamb, and blessed by the Pope for distribution to the faithful. The cases, of silver-gilt, have occasionally a covering of transparent horn on the back and front. An example of this kind, of fifteenth-century German workmanship, is in the Victoria and Albert Museum (Pl. XIX, 3). The wax it contains bears the name of Pope Urban VI (1378-1389). An original stamp of bronze, of Italian origin, dating from the fourteenth century, which was used for making these wax impressions, is preserved in the British Museum along with other moulds for casting medals and small articles of jewellery. In addition to the precious and semi-precious stones already mentioned, other objects, accounted specially efficacious for certain purposes, were worn. The peres de eagle, also called ætites, supposed to be found in the nest of the eagle, were particularly valuable during childbirth. Glossopetræ, the fossilised teeth of certain kinds of shark, which passed as serpents’ teeth, were much used, as well as primitive arrowheads. They were hung round the neck of infants in the belief that they assisted dentition and kept off frights. Of great value also was the bezoar stone, which, like glossopetræe, at one time occupied a prominent place in pharmacopoeia. Coral, which has always been popular, is first mentioned in English wills and It was used for inventories in the fourteenth century. rosaries, and, above all, as a charm—a ring of gold The Romans tied or silver being attached to its stalk. little branches of it round their children’s necks to ward off the evil eye; and the infant Saviour in many an early Italian picture is represented wearing a piece of coral in a similar manner.66 A fear of poison, common for centuries in royal courts, was responsible for the custom of testing meats and drinks by methods founded upon certain ancient and groundless beliefs. In order to neutralise or detect the presence of poison, certain objects were placed in contact with food or were dipped into liquids. The touching-pieces (tousches) or proofs (espreuves) employed for the purpose, and considered especially efficacious against poison, were toadstones, glossopetræe, serpentine, jasper, agate, and particularly the unicorn’s horn. What was foisted upon the credulous public as the horn of the fabled animal was in reality the horn or tusk of a fish—the narwhal or sea-unicorn of the northern seas. Being an object of very great value, the horn was only occasionally kept entire, like the one preserved to this day at New College, Oxford. It was more usually cut into pieces and used as “proofs.” An angry unicorne in his full career Charge with too swift foot a jeweller That watch’d him for the treasure of his brow, And ere he could get shelter of a tree, Nail him with his rich antler to the earth.67 These and other objects, when worn upon the person, as was generally the practice, were mounted at one end, or surrounded by a claw-like band of silver. Another object which occupied an important position in the Middle Ages and often received special attention at the hands of the goldsmith was the rosary. It was suspended occasionally from the neck, but was more often worn upon the wrist, at the girdle, or attached to a finger ring, and was formed of a string of beads of various sizes and materials representing Aves, Paternosters, and Glorias: each bead receiving the name of the prayer it represented. The rosary, as at the present day, was divided into decades of Aves, each decade being preceded by a Paternoster and followed by a Gloria. The materials of which they were composed are well illustrated in the inventory68 of the jewels belonging to Adam Ledyard, a London jeweller in 1381. It includes: “4 sets of paternosters of white amber; 16 sets of paternosters of amber; 5 sets of paternosters of coral and geet jet; 6 sets of aves of geet, and paternosters of silver-gilt; 38 sets of aves of geet, with gaudees of silver-gilt; 14 sets of aves of blue glass, with paternosters of silver-gilt; 28 sets of paternosters of geet; 15 sets of paternosters of mazer; and 5 sets of paternosters of white bone for children.” The makers of these beads were termed paternosterers; and Paternoster Row and Ave Maria Lane were so called from the “turners of beads,” who resided there. In Paris, as early as the thirteenth century, the commerce in rosaries was a most flourishing one, and it was customary there to divide the makers or dealers in these articles into three categories—paternosterers of bone and horn, of coral and mother-of-pearl, and of amber and jet. In England the rosary makers do not seem to have been so specialised. The larger beads were sometimes of gold, silver, and silver-gilt, of openwork, beautifully chased and engraved, and of boxwood and ivory exquisitely carved. The “gaudees” or “gauds” in the above quotation, the ornaments or trinkets attached to the rosary, were commonly in the form of a crucifix, while the small German charms mentioned above (p. 120) were mostly employed for the same purpose. Of the sphericalshaped gauds or nuts pendent to the rosary, called in French grains de chapelet and known in Germany as Betnüsse, many fine examples exist in boxwood. They have often an openwork case which opens with a hinge, and displays two hemispheres filled with a number of carved figures of minute proportions. Among the many forms assumed by mediaeval pendants were those of fruits—generally apples or pears. These fruit-shaped pendants, containing either figures or relics, were exceedingly popular. They were carried in the purse or attached to the rosary or to the girdle, or in the case of men, were hung from the neck by a cord or chain; and were constructed so as to be opened during devotions. One of the most remarkable examples is in the Waddesdon Bequest at the British Museum.69 The use of perfumes prevailed at all periods of the Middle Ages. They were enclosed in various receptacles, and especially in those shaped like a pear or apple. These pendent scent cases or pomanders, worn like other pendants of the same form, were in general use throughout the whole of the period extending from the fourteenth to the seventeenth century. Pomander in early inventories is often spelt pomeambre, indicating its derivation from pomme d’ambre, a perfume apple or ball; the word pomme being used for any object resembling an apple in shape, and ambre70 for perfume in general. Primarily the pomander seems often to have designated a ball composed of various highly scented substances, which served the purpose both of counteracting the smells which must have been particularly general and offensive in olden days, and also of protecting against infection. It was enclosed in a rich metal case, opening across the centre, and perforated so as to allow the scent to escape. The title pomander —originally meaning simply a scent or perfume ballwas given to the case which contained it. In many instances, the perfumes, instead of being mixed together into a ball, were placed in the pomander case each in a separate compartment, the lids of which are found inscribed with the names of the contents. These compartments, varying in number from four to as many as sixteen, are formed like segments of an orange. They are hinged below, and united at the top by a screw or pin, which being removed, allows the segments to open out (Pl. XVIII, 3).
CHAPTER XVI
MEDIAVAL BROOCHES—THE RING-BROOCH
The brooches or fibulae hitherto considered have been constructed either with a spring pin or acus, which was held in its place by a hook or catch, or with a hinged acus, which, having pierced the material, was fixed similarly by a catch, and prevented by the weight of the garment from becoming unloosened. The term fibula, generally employed by archæologists to denote all early brooches, has so far been applied only to the dress-fasteners of classical times; and though the word brooch (from the French broche, meaning a spit) was not introduced into England until after the Norman Conquest, it is for the sake of clearness used here to describe what are generally known among Anglo-Saxon ornaments as fibulae. In later Roman times, and among the Irish and Anglo-Saxons, the ring-brooch was sometimes formed with an opening on one side, and the pin or acus, which was not hinged, but moved freely to any part of the ring, having been passed through the tissue, was brought through this opening. The ring was then turned till the pin rested upon its rim. At the time of the Norman Conquest the opening of the brooch is closed, the ring becomes flat and has a pin of the same length as its diameter. Instead of running loosely, the pin is hinged upon a constriction of the ring, and it either traverses the tissue which has been brought through the latter, or a band is passed over it from beneath the sides of the ring. When the portions of the garment thus connected are drawn back, the pin falls across the front of the ring and is held securely in its place. This ring-brooch was known as the fermail (Latin firmaculum, signifying a clasp)—a term employed both in old French and old English inventories. The ring-brooch was worn by both sexes. It appears on the monumental effigy of Richard Coeur de Lion at Rouen, on that of Berengaria his queen at Le Mans, and on several of the thirteenth-century sculptures on the west front of Wells Cathedral. It served to gather up the fulness of the surcoat on the breast of the knight, as shown by the effigy, known as that of William Mareschel the Elder, Earl of Pembroke, in the Temple Church; but was generally used to close the opening in the robes at the throat of either sex, and is seen thus on many effigies of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.71 Among the few examples of mediæeval jewellery that have survived, brooches and finger rings predominate. Brooches differ slightly according to the nationality to which they belong: those of English origin forming of themselves a class of considerable variety and extent. The earliest were circles of small diameter and narrow frame, either plain, or decorated with simple designs. Mystic words and letters were subsequently added; but as the brooch became larger, amatory mottoes took their place. Religious formulae were also employed, particularly in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, when the brooch reached its full development. The various inscriptions and designs engraved on mediæval brooches are of great interest. The majority of inscriptions are mottoes in French, such as were frequently employed as posies upon rings and other love-gifts. An inscription which occurs more than once is IO. SVI. ICI. EN. LIEV . DAMI. Another chanson, reading thus in modern French—Je suis ici, à toi voici, is found on several brooches in the British Museum. The dainty Prioress, Madame Eglentine, in the prologue of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales wore-
a broche of gold ful shene, On whiche was first y-writen a crouned A, And after, Amor vincit omnia.
The popularity of this last motto on the personal ornaments of the Middle Ages may be attributed to its supposed influence as a love-charm. A considerable number of legends are of a religious character, with allusions to the Virgin and Saviour, while a few are talismanic, and contain inscriptions such as the names of the Kings of the East. Ring-brooches, though generally circular, show a variety of other shapes, such as hearts, trefoils, lozenges, etc. A heart-shaped brooch of fine workmanship in chased and engraved gold is in the Victoria and Albert Museum. It appears to be French and of the fifteenth century. Upon its back is the inscription—Nostre et tout ditz a vostre [d]esir. The brooches worn by the wealthy are often magnificent examples of jewellery, enriched with gems set in delicate goldwork. A number of the existing brooches are of such diminutive size—less than half an inch in diameter—that they could only have been employed for fastening the very thinnest tissue. The larger gold ring-brooches, of fine workmanship and set with precious stones, are of great rarity. In the British Museum are several choice specimens: the finest, formerly in the Londesborough Collection, dates from the fourteenth century. It is mounted with pearls, cabochon sapphires and emeralds, arranged in a variety of settings, and further enriched with four bosses carved and pierced in the forms of dragons and cockatrices. A remarkable brooch of the thirteenth century, also from a well-known collection, that of Baron Pichon, is preserved in the Victoria and Albert Museum. It is a circular gold ring two inches in diameter, enriched with four sapphires and six rubies in high cone-like settings formed of simple sheets of metal wrapped round the stones. The bases of these collets are hidden on the inner side by an encircling wreath of vine leaves delicately cut and stamped in gold. The back is ornamented with a leaf design in niello. There is a somewhat similar brooch, though only a fragment, in the Gem Room of the British Museum. A gold brooch also dating from the thirteenth century, and, like the majority, of French workmanship, is in the Carrand Collection in the Museo Nazionale (Bargello), Florence. This fine example, formerly in the Debruge Collection, is decorated with exquisite Gothic foliage in naturalistic style, and with figures of two lions in full relief. It is set with two large rubies and four small emeralds. In the same collection is an extremely interesting brooch, likewise French, and of the fourteenth century. A flat ring of gold 11/4 inches in diameter is ornamented with concentric rings of enamel, the two outer being blue and the inner white. Upon the latter, in letters reserved in the gold, is the inscription IESUS AUTEM TRANSIENS PER MED.,72 which occurs also on the cameo of Charles V at Paris, and was held by those who bore it to possess a prophylactic virtue. The brooch is further ornamented with four vernicles73 engraved with exquisite feeling at equal distances upon its surface (Pl. XX, 2). Though comparatively many existing brooches are of gold, a great quantity were formerly produced not only in silver, but in baser metals, such as iron, copper, and lead or pewter. How large was the demand for brooches of these materials can be gauged from a French writer of the thirteenth century, Jean de Garlande, a poet and grammarian, who in his Latin vocabulary refers to brooch-makers as a special class of craftsmen, who, apart from goldsmiths, were sufficiently numerous to bear the title of fermailleurs74 —makers of fermails. To about the end of the fifteenth century belongs a satirical poem printed in London with the. title Cocke Lovelles Bote, where “latten workers and broche makers,” are specially mentioned among the London crafts or trades. The manufacture of the finest brooches, however, was always reserved for the goldsmiths—a fact indicated by the quartering of brooches on the arms of the Goldsmiths’ Company. There would be no justification for any general reference to mediæval ring-brooches that omitted to give some account of those worn in Scotland. Brooches formed an indispensable accessory to the Highland dress of both sexes, in that they served to fix upon the shoulder an invariable article of clothing of the Highlanders—the Scottish plaid. In the latest development of the Scottish brooch of the Celtic type, the pin, as has been observed, is hinged upon the ring, and after piercing the garment is held in its place by a catch at the back of the brooch. Upon the introduction of the ring-brooch with a pin equal to the diameter of the ring, this mode of fastening was only in very few cases retained, and preference in general was given to the English manner of adjustment. The earliest form of the Scottish ring-brooch, which dates from about the thirteenth century, is a flattened circular ring, upon which talismanic inscriptions in Latin, generally of a religious character, almost invariably appear. These, together with some traces of Gothic design, last throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. After this period the knowledge of Latin seems to decrease, for it is rendered so barbarously on the sixteenth-century brooches as to be almost unintelligible. On the later brooches the decoration is purely ornamental, with interlaced work and foliaceous scrolls; and brooches of this type, on which the character of an earlier period is retained, were made as late as the eighteenth century. The designs of the silver brooches were produced by engraving accompanied by niello work; those of the brass brooches usually by engraving alone. The National Museum of Antiquities at Edinburgh possesses a large and important collection of Scottish brooches, while a few Highland families have preserved for many generations massive silver brooches of elaborate workmanship. Formerly in the possession of the Campbells of Glenlyon, and now in the British Museum, is a brooch known as the Glenlyon brooch. It dates from about the fifteenth century. It is about 34 inches in width, and is formed of a flat ring set with pearls on tall cone-shaped turrets, alternating with crystals and pieces of amethyst. Across the centre is a richly decorated bar, upon which rest the points of two pins attached to the edge of the ring. On the back of the brooch, in black-letter, is the favourite inscription of mediæval amulets: CASPAR . MELCHIOR. BALTAZAR. CONSUMATUM. The last word, the de claration of the dying Saviour, “It is finished,” was often inscribed upon brooches and other ornaments of the Middle Ages, as were likewise the Angelic Salutation, the titulus I.N.R.I., and other so-called caracts, all of which were considered to possess some talismanic efficacy. In many cases the open space in the middle of the ring, as in modern brooches, was filled up, and in the early examples was sometimes occupied by a turret-like ornamentation set with a crystal; while obelisks rising from the ring of the brooch were set with polished stones such as cairngorms (still popular on Scottish jewellery), or with Scottish pearls. The finest examples of this type of brooch are known as the “brooch of Lorn,” the “Ugadale brooch,” and the “Loch Buy brooch.” The brooch of Lorn, still in the possession of the lineal descendants of the Macdougals of Lorn, dates from the fifteenth century. It consists of a disc of silver 41/2 inches in diamenter, enriched with filigree. In the centre is a raised capsule crowned with a large rock crystal, and round the ring of the brooch a circle of eight obelisks. The Ugadale brooch, the property of the Macneals of Firfergus, is of somewhat similar nature, save that the turrets, eight in number, are towards the centre of the brooch and trranged close round the raised crystal. The Loch Buy brooch, of more elaborate workmanship, is likewise surmounted by a cabochon crystal on a raised dais. On the ring, within a low border, are ten tall turrets, each surmounted with a Scottish pearl. This famous brooch, long in the possession of the Macleans of Loch Buy in the Isle of Mull, came later into the collection of Ralph Bernal, one of the first and most eminent of latter-day connoisseurs, at whose sale in 1855 it was purchased by the British Museum. In addition to the Highland circular brooches, a considerable number in the shape of hearts have been found in Scotland, sometimes surmounted with a crown, and in a few instances set with jewels (p. 165). They were mostly love-tokens and betrothal gifts, and many of them bear on the reverse the word LOVE. Brooches of this form are known as “Luckenbooth” brooches, from their having been commonly sold in the Luckenbooths, the street stalls, around St. Giles Church on the High Street, Edinburgh. The use of the word Luckenbooth calls to mind the fact that the goldsmiths of Paris also worked and dwelt in booths, which as late as the fourteenth century were situated on the Pont du Change and the Pont Nôtre Dame. In this connection it is worth noticing that in England, as well as in France and Scotland, the working goldsmiths, like the followers of other trades, occupied distinct quarters by themselves, and they had in London one part of the Chepe set apart for them to dwell and trade in. The custom of the various crafts thus confining themselves to particular quarters, which is of remote antiquity, greatly facilitated the formation and government of trade guilds.
CHAPTER XVII
MEDIAVAL BROOCHES (continued)-PECTORALS
Another species of brooch peculiar to the Middle Ages is the pectoral, an article for fastening on to the middle of the breast. It is similar to our modern brooch, but differs in that it did not always serve to hold the dress together. In earlier centuries it was often sewn on the garment, and was only occasionally supplied with a pin. It was worn by both sexes, as well as by ecclesiastics, who appear to have borne in mind the chief ornament worn by the Jewish High Priest. The earliest and most remarkable example of this class is the great gold pectoral—the Eagle Fibula it is termed—found in 1880 at Mainz—that ancient and historical Rhenish city, known in former times from its commercial prosperity as “Goldene Mainz,” which has proved extraordinarily rich in discoveries dating from classical and early mediaeval periods. This famous jewel, both on account of its size (4 by 35/8 inches) and good state of preservation, probably deserves to rank first among all golden ornaments that have come down to us from the early Middle Ages. “Its composition,” says Herr Luthmer “is extremely clear and conscious. An eagle, of heraldic form, it is true, but not with any of that unnatural emaciation peculiar to the later style of heraldry, fills the inner circle of a flat ring of stamped gold enriched with beaded filigree, which at its upper end—in order to give space for the head of the birdis not closed, but connected by a curve in the circle of wire. The eight flowers inserted in the openwork of the ring, as well as the whole form of the eagle with the exception of the claws, are filled with cloisonné enamel which unfortunately has disappeared from the body of the eagle, where only the punctured outlines of the feathers are perceptible upon the plate of gold. Otherwise the enamel, made of translucent green and blue, turquoise-blue, white and yellow, has been preserved in all its freshness.”75 This pectoral dates from the commencement of the twelfth century, and is one of the chief treasures in the rich collection of antiquities preserved in the Mainz Museum. Jewels of this species and of this period are of the utmost rarity. Another very beautiful example was discovered at Mainz just five years after the Eagle Fibula, and is now in the collection of Baron von Heyl zu Herrnsheim at Worms. It is formed of repoussé gold, and represents an eagle standing upon a branch rolled up at both ends. A fine sapphire occupies the middle of the breast, in the centre of the wings are emeralds, the tail is set with lapis-lazuli, and the eye of the bird with a small ruby. This exquisite jewel dates from the early part of the thirteenth century. It measures 21/8 inches in height and 15/8 inches in width.76 The most remarkable among jewels of about the same date (the twelfth century) are the splendid antique cameos already described—the Cameo of St. Hilary in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, and the Schaffhausen Onyx—both of which were originally employed as pectorals or brooches. A few brooches are attached, as was once the jewel of St. Hilary, as ex voto on the breast of reliquary figures, like that of St. Foy at Conques, which still exhibits an ornament of this kind. A brooch or fermail (for this latter term is not confined to the ring brooch), 13/4 inches in diameter, which once formed part of the ancient jewels of the French Crown, is in the Galerie d’Apollon of the Louvre.77 Two exceedingly fine brooches of about the end of the twelfth century, found at Mainz in 1896 and now in the treasury of the cathedral, are described by Dr. Schneider in the Jahybuch der Königlich Preussischen Kunstsammlungen (Vol. XVIII); and a pectoral or brooch of a similar form, a large stone in the centre, surrounded by smaller ones—to take only one among many examples—is represented on the twelfth-century statue of a queen, probably intended for the Queen of Sheba, from the west portal of the church of Our Lady of Corbeil, and now at Saint-Denis. In the case of original jewels of this kind, it is not always easy to determine whether they were articles of adornment for the clergy or the laity, and though those for ecclesiastical use probably predominate, it is only when they contain the figured representation of some religious subject that they can with certainty be identified as cope-clasps or morses, the French equivalent for which is mors de chape. Morses were frequently of extraordinary size. Monumental brasses and tombstones, especially in Germany, exhibit many examples. Adalbert of Saxony, who was administrator of the archbishopric of Mainz, and died in 1484, is represented on his tombstone in the cathedral with one measuring more than 7 inches across. Existing examples vary from 5 to 7 inches in breadth. The jewellers of the Middle Ages delighted in lavishing their utmost taste and skill on morses, which were of a variety of shapes, and were composed of every material. Some were enriched with precious stones, including ancient cameos, and others rendered attractive with coloured enamels. Several lists of English morses are preserved. In the inventory of Sarum,78 of the year 1222, gold, silver, and jewelled morses, firmacula, pectoralia, or monilia (as they were variously termed in the Middle Ages) are described at length; in that of St. Paul’s,79 drawn up in 1295, there are no less than twenty-eight; while the inventory of jewels (jocalia) preserved in York Minster80 in 1500 includes an extraordinarily rich collection of these ornaments. Though some were clearly made fast to one side of the garment, and were hitched to the other by hooks, or by a pin, like a brooch, they were not always employed to unite the two sides, but were sometimes used simply as a decoration upon the front of the vestment, and perhaps hung there by a chain round the neck.81 Examples to be found in many museums are pierced with holes, or have loops behind them, showing that they were sewn to the vestment with purely decorative purpose. From the close of the twelfth century champlevé enamel upon copper was much employed for the decoration of morses. In the fourteenth century champlevé was largely superseded by transparent enamel on silver relief (basse-taille), many of the finest specimens of which were produced in Italy. Two fine morses displaying this species of work are preserved; the one in the British Museum82 and the other at South Kensington. The use of ancient cameos as personal ornaments has already been mentioned; and there is in the British Museum a mediæval intaglio, the finest of its kind, which was used as a morse. It is known as the Crystal of Lothair, since it was made, in all probability, for Lothair II, King of the Franks from 855 to 869. It is a lenticular plaque of rock crystal, 41/2 inches in diameter, engraved in intaglio,83 with the history of Susanna.84 Public collections at home and abroad possess a variety of examples of Gothic morses of exquisite design. One of the most remarkable, of German workmanship of the fourteenth century, is in the Musée Cluny at Paris;85 while among the finest German jewels of the fifteenth century must be ranked a morse of beautiful execution in the Victoria and Albert Museum.86 Other noteworthy examples are, three in the treasury of the cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle, one of them87 containing a representation of the Annunciation—a subject which, judging from the inventories, appears to have been a very favourite one for the purpose, particularly in England. Three more are in Paris: one—the beautiful morse of St. Louis—in the Galerie d’Apollon,88 a second in the Rothschild Bequest89 in the In the Louvre, and a third in the Dutuit Bequest.90 In the Kunstgewerbe Museum at Berlin is a silver-gilt morse which was made in the year 1484 for Albert von Letelen, canon of Minden, by the goldsmith Reinecke van Dressche of Minden. It is a circular disc 5½ inches in diameter, filled with three elaborate Gothic tabernacles, each containing a figure. Entirely symmetrical in composition, it follows a design commonly found on the seals of the same date (Pl. XXII, 3). An excellent idea of the extraordinary beauty of the morses in use at the close of the Middle Ages can be obtained from fifteenth-century paintings, particularly of the Flemish school. Few of the latter can surpass what is one of its finest examples in the National Gallery—Gerard David’s beautiful picture of the “Canon and his Patron Saints,” in which are displayed, in almost all their pristine freshness, some of the most magnificent representations of the jeweller’s art. Besides these pectorals, which sometimes served a practical, but often a purely decorative purpose, there were various other ornaments that acted as clasps (agrafes). These agrafes are similar to those still made use of in our day, working on a system of a hook fitting into a loop. Clasps for mantles were sometimes made of massive loops fastened on either side of the border of the mantle, like parts of a hinge, which could be clasped by a pin being thrust through them, or by a cord or strap. A heavy ornamental mantle was often worn by both sexes over the dress. It was open in front, and displayed the dress underneath. Upon its opposite edges were fixed two ornamental rosettes or lozenges, connected by cords terminating in tassels, or by a band across the breast. In the case of ceremonious attire this band was of metal, profusely jewelled, while the ornamental pieces or clasps at each end were of elaborate goldwork set with precious stones. On the monumental effigy of Henry IV in the Chapel of St. Thomas à Becket, at Canterbury Cathedral, the cloak is secured by a rich band fastened at each end by diamond-shaped clasps of fine design. Henry’s Queen, Joanna of Navarre, who lies beside him, has clasps of almost the same form, fixed near the shoulders, and united by a simple band. Somewhat similar ornaments, rosette-shaped, can be seen on the effigy of Anne of Bohemia, first wife of Richard II, in Westminster Abbey. Since the pectoral is sometimes worn together with these clasps, it is evident that it often had nothing to do with closing the mantle; but when a pin is attached behind, and it is employed for secular purposes, it assumes the ordinary type of the modern brooch. The English word for this smaller and secular variety of morse, which is distinct from the fermail or ring-brooch, was nouch.91 It was also called ouch, by misdivision of a nouch as an ouch, and was variously spelt niche, nowche, owche, etc. That the nouch is the actual English equivalent to the morse or pectoral is proved by a will dated 1400,92 in which among the jewels bequeathed to the shrine of the Head of St. William of York was “unum monile, Anglicè nouche auri, cum uno saphire in medio, et j. dyamand desuper, et circumpositum cum pereles et emeraudes.” Nouches were attached to the front of the garment, but were occasionally worn upon the shoulder. On the effigy of Henry II, at Fontevraud, and on that of Henry III93 in the Chapel of Edward the Confessor at Westminster Abbey, the mantle in each case is fastened upon the right shoulder with a brooch of this kind. It would be an almost impossible task to describe all the motives selected for the English brooches of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, their numerous compositions of human figures and animals of all sorts, and the various stones with which they were set. The old inventories give endless descriptions, but hardly any actual examples, apart from the ring-brooches and William of Wykeham’s magnificent nouch at New College, have survived. In the British Museum is a silver-gilt brooch in form of St. Christopher leaning on his staff and bearing the infant Saviour on his shoulder. It is of fifteenth-century workmanship, 23/4 inches long, and was found at Kingston-on-Thames (Pl. XX, 7). This brooch is of peculiar interest, since in the Canterbury Tales that worn by the “Yeman” is described as “A Crystofre on his brest of silvyr shene.” Brooches and nouches, mentioned frequently in the English inventories of the fourteenth century, became even more numerous and elaborate in the century following. Foreign influence, strong at this period, left its imprint upon all works of art; and the most extensive commerce was carried on with Flanders, which was then the workshop of the world. Yet, though the following descriptions of brooches drawn from the inventory of Henry IV in the Inventories of the Exchequer94 show a striking similarity to the continental jewels of the same date, there is no reason to suppose that these were not actually produced in England by English workmen. Five nouches, probably very similar in form to the splendid jewel at New College, Oxford, and dating approximately from the same period, are thus recorded: “Item v. nouches de letres M apparellez de perles et diverses peres de petit value.” Other brooches exhibit a variety of forms: “Item i. gant nouche dun griffon seisant un deyme ove i. saphir en my lieu iij. baleys et vi. grosses perles”; “Item i. nouche [dor] ove i. damoysell es blancz flours portant i. papingey en la mayn apparellez ove i. baleys iij. saphis iij. troches de perles ove trois diamantz contrifaitz.” Similarly enriched jewels have for their subjects: “i. enfant dor et i. blanc deime enaymellez , i. damoisell et i. unicorn [dor]”; and “un damoisell seant en un solaill.” Finally we meet with the following entry: “Item i. nouche d’un aungell blanc tenant en sa mayn un saphir feble garnisez de vi. perles enterfoiles.” Of all the immense wealth of jewellery of the Dukes of Burgundy in the fifteenth century almost every vestige has disappeared, and the public museums of the Continent are practically destitute of Flemish-Burgundian jewellery of this date. Yet the British Museum, through the generosity of the late Sir A.W. Franks, is in fortunate possession of several exquisite examples, which were dredged a few years ago from the bed of the River Meuse. The most remarkable is a gold brooch of delicate workmanship, the centre of which is occupied by a female figure: a garland encircles her head, a flower set with a small triangular diamond adorns her breast, while her hands hold in front a large faceted sapphire. Around, in the midst of foliage, are three cabochon rubies, and the settings of other stones and pearls which have disappeared (Pl. XX, I1). The form of this jewel is peculiarly interesting in comparison with the above-quoted aungell tenant en sa mayn un saphir of the inventory of Henry IV. A smaller circular brooch of similar fabrique has a diamond above and a pale ruby below, and is encircled by radiating buds of flowers, the centre of each bud being formed of a ball of white enamel. Of the few examples of jewels of similar character that exist at the present day upon the Continent, there is in the treasury of the Collegiate Church of Essen in Rhenish Prussia, amongst several fine objects of the goldsmith’s art, a remarkable and comparatively unknown collection of enamelled jewels of the fifteenth century.95 Each of the sixteen objects of the series possesses what appears to be a characteristic of most jewels of this date—that is to say, it is enclosed by an encircling wreath-like ornament of the naturalistic late Gothic style formed of a circular tube of gold to which are affixed leaves of stamped gold, enamelled and enriched with pearls. The centres of the jewels are occupied by a variety of motives. Seven are of a purely formal composition, enriched with small white flowers, the stalks of which, covered with green enamel, resemble with their interlacing design the necklace worn by Maria Portinari in the Van der Goes triptych at Florence. The remaining and more elaborate jewels contain enamelled figures of men and animals executed with extraordinary minuteness and vivacity. The finest, and on the whole the best preserved, has in the centre a female figure in full relief clothed in a white robe and long green cloak and a head-dress in the form of leaves. She is seated in a field sewn with flowers in the manner of the pictures of the period, and behind are golden rays96 (Pl. XX,9). The figure upon another jewel has a somewhat similar background. Her robe is white, and her head-dress and the edges of her wing-like sleeves red. In front of both figures is a small cluster of precious stones. Though all the objects in this remarkable collection are of about the same date, they differ sufficiently to make it clear that, like the treasures from Saragossa, they owe their presence here to the devotion of perhaps more than one wealthy person to a highly revered shrine. In spite of the fact that the majority are considerably damaged, they are yet eloquent proofs of the magnificent style of living at the period of their production, and valuable examples of the ornaments of the Middle Ages of which no other collection possesses so large and choice a variety. In date one is disposed to place these brooches (or nouches, as they would be termed in old English inventories) in the first half of the fifteenth centuryat least as far as the figured pieces are concerned, for jewellery in pictures of the second half of the century is mostly formed of pearls and precious stones alone. Jewelled brooches of this kind ornamented with figures in relief are particularly well represented in the works of the older German painters, and above all those of Stephan Lochner (d. 1451), in whose masterpiece in Cologne Cathedral, known as the “Dombild,” the Virgin is seen wearing on her breast a brooch ornamented with clusters of pearls and the figure of a seated maiden, with a unicorn resting one foot on her lap.97 In another celebrated picture by Master Stephan—the “Virgin of the Rose-Arbour,” in the Cologne Museum—the same subject is represented on the mandorla,or almondshaped, brooch which closes the Virgin’s C robe; while in a third picture by him in the Episcopal Museum of the same city—a picture which, like the rest, bears traces of Flemish influence—the Virgins brooch or morse is ornamented with a female figure seated, full face, after the manner of the British Museum and Essen brooches.98 Such is the extraordinary quality and extreme rarity of jewels of this type that attention must be drawn to yet two more examples: one in the Imperial Collections at Vienna, and the other in the Carrand Collection in the Bargello at Florence. The former is a jewel of quite remarkable character. Within the usual circle of gold wire is a pair of lovers standing side by side each holding the end of a wreath. The figures, dressed in Burgundian costume of the fifteenth century and enamelled with various colours, breathe the spirit of the mediæval amourette as represented upon ivory mirror-cases and jewel-caskets and in miniatures of the twelfth to the sixteenth century. Between them is a triangular diamond set like the example in the British Museum, and below it a pale cabochon ruby. Around are five pearls (Pl. XX, 8).99 The jewel at Florence (2 inches in diameter) has a border of green enamelled leaves set with pearls, and in the centre a finely modelled figure of a dromedary in white enamel. This brooch, which is in splendid condition, was perhaps intended to be worn, as were some other of these pieces, as an enseigne on the hat or cap (Pl. XVII, 12). Whatever may have been their nationality, a glance at each, from those in the British Museum to the one last described, is sufficient to determine the identity of their source of inspiration. All bear the stamp of the Flemish-Burgundian art, which throughout the fifteenth century dominated the creations of the goldsmiths, as well as the sculptors, miniaturists, and tapestry workers, of the entire west of Europe. Every one of these brooches is worthy of the most careful examination, particularly by the craftsman of the present day, for unlike the ornaments of more ancient times, they possess qualities which render them peculiarly appropriate to the circumstances of our later civilisation. In the refinement and simplicity of their arrangement and design these mediæval examples of the jeweller’s art transcend many of the greatly admired and more famous jewels of the Renaissance.

CHAPTER XVIII
MEDIAEVAL RINGS AND BRACELETS
Of all classes of mediæeval jewellery finger rings have been preserved in the greatest number. Among the various causes that have contributed to this result must be reckoned their very general use in former times, their comparatively small value, which often saved them from the melting-pot, and the fact that they were almost the only articles of value usually buried with the dead. As regards the use and form of the finger ring during the Middle Ages, we find that it retains in the main its primitive symbolical character; being employed as an emblem rather than an ornament, to signify the investiture of office, the binding of the nuptial bond. and especially as a signet. Though the occurrence of numerous rings without a seal or other mark proves their general acceptance as purely ornamental articles, so deeply was the spirit of the age imbued with leanings towards the mysterious and the occult, that nearly évery ring is an annulus vertuosus, supposed to be endowed with some talismanic or sanative efficacy. For convenience sake mediaeval rings may be separated into four main divisions: (1) ecclesiastical and devotional rings; (2) charm rings; (3) love and marriage rings; and (4) ornamental rings, including signets. Rings have always been looked upon with favour by the Church; they were worn regularly by the higher clergy, and formed part of their ecclesiastical insignia. The British Museum, by the bequest of Mr. Octavius Morgan, possesses an important collection of gilt bronze finger rings of enormous size, each set with a foiled glass or crystal. Most of them bear on the hoop symbols of the four evangelists, the Ox, Lion, Angel, and Eagle, as well as the triple crown and crossed keys with the arms of various popes, and sometimes those of contemporary rulers, mostly of the fifteenth century. These so-called papal rings, of which other examples, and duplicates, exist, are believed to have been presented or sent by popes or cardinals as emblems of investiture when conferring an office or dignity (Pl. XXIII, 10). A jewelled ring was always worn by a bishop, and was an essential part of his costume when pontificating. It was specially made for him, and usually went with him to the grave. Hence it happens that many of these rings have survived, and are preserved both in museums—the collection in the Franks Bequest in the British Museum being the most extensive—and in the cathedrals where they have been found.100 In the earliest times bishops usually wore engraved rings for use as signets, but they seem to have had a large jewelled one as well for ceremonial use. According to the instructions of Pope Innocent III in 1194, the episcopal ring was to be of solid gold set with a precious stone on which nothing was to be cut; hence the thirteenth-century rings are at times somewhat rudely fashioned, with the shape of the bezel adapted to the gem just as it was found, its surface merely being polished. Among the stones usually chosen for the purpose were the ruby indicating glory, the sapphire purity, the emerald tranquillity and happiness, and crystal simplicity. Antique gems in earlier times were also worn, and on some rings an inscription is added to give a Christian name to the pagan figure; but others were merely regarded as ornaments without meaning, like one dating from the twelfth century in the Waterton Collection, which bears a Roman cameo in plasma of a female head in high relief; or like the curious example found in the coffin of Seffrid, Bishop of Chichester (d. 1151), in which is mounted a Gnostic intaglio. The most usual form of ring, and one which seems to have been reserved chiefly for bishops, is of a pointed or stirrup shape. It is commonly found set with a small sapphire, more rarely with an emerald, and sometimes, as in William of Wykeham’s ring at New College, with a ruby (Pl. XXIII, 1). The fashion for this type appears to have lasted from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century. The episcopal ring was formerly worn on the right hand, but is placed at the present day upon the annular finger—the third finger of the left hand. Not more than one episcopal ring is now worn, but on sepulchral effigies and early pictures bishops are represented with three or four rings on the right hand, not infrequently upon the second joint of the fingers, and also upon the thumb. They were generally worn over the gloves, the backs of which were ornamented in addition with a large jewel. These rings were often, therefore, of considerable size, so that when worn without a glove a guard-ring was necessary to prevent their falling off.101 Mitred abbots were allowed to wear the ring; by others it might be worn, but not during the celebration of the Mass. The use of a ring was forbidden to the lower clerg Among the rings to be classed under the heading of religious or devotional rings, the most important are the so-called iconographic rings, that is, those which have on the bezels, or on the shoulders, which are generally grooved or fluted, figures of the Virgin and Child, or of patron saints. They are nearly all of the same style of workmanship, and date almost exclusively from the fifteenth century. They are peculiar to England and Scotland. Several examples are preserved in the National Museum of Antiquities at Edinburgh (p. 104), and others in the three great English ring collections. Devotional rings of the same date, and mostly of English workmanship, have broad hoops, some engraved with sacred monograms, some with holy names such as JESUS and MARIA, and others with the names of the Three Kings, spelt in all manner of ways. Two exquisite English gold rings of this kind, dating from the first half of the fifteenth century, are in the British Museum. One, found at Coventry in 1802, is engraved with the five wounds of Christ, together with the legends describing them, and on the inside an inscription containing the names of the Three Kings of Cologne (Pl. XXIII, 4, 5).102 The other ring was dug up at Godstow Priory, near Oxford, and is of small diameter, suited for a lady’s finger, but has a broad hoop engraved with sacred figures. It appears to have been employed as a love ring, for within the hoop is an inscription which runs thus. “Most in mynd and yn myn herrt. Lothest from vou fer to departt”103 (Pl. XXIII, 6). Another form of religious or devotional ring which was sometimes used in place of the ordinary rosary of beads was the decade ring. This was so called from its usually having at intervals round the hoop ten knobs which were used for repeating ten Aves, and a head or bezel for the Paternoster. Finger rings, to an even greater extent than any other species of mediæval jewellery, were designed to act as talismans or amulets; and they served, more than any other purpose, that of charms. Their virtue was imparted sometimes by the stone, and sometimes by the device, inscription, or magical letters engraved upon them. The mystic virtues attributed to stones as well as to engraved gems during the Middle Ages has been frequently alluded to. Among the different stones (like the sapphire, for instance, the very word for which implies protection against drunkenness) carried in the bezel of the ring, which were supposed to make the wearer proof against evil influences, the most valued was the toadstone (Pl. XXIII, 9). It was supposed to be found in the head of a toad, but is in reality the fossil palatal tooth of a species of fish—the ray. A toad-stone—also known as crapaudine and batrachites—in a ring was said to indicate the presence of poison by perspiring and changing colour. Toad-stones were much sought after, and were highly prized, even in Shakespeare’s day. Sweet are the uses of adversity; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. (As you like it, II, 1.) Ben Jonson alludes to the custom of wearing the stone in rings: Were you enamour’d on his copper rings, His saffron jewel, with the toad-stone in’t? (Volpone, II, 5.) In addition to the stones already mentioned, greatly valued was the Turkey-stone or turquoise, as the “Compassionate turcoyse, which doth tell By looking pale, the wearer is not well.” (Donne, Anatomie of the World.) It was his turquoise ring which Shylock would not have lost “for a wilderness of monkeys.” The use of charm rings seems to have been not uncommon in early times. It was one of the articles of impeachment against Hubert de Burgh, the great justiciar of Henry III, that whereas the King had in his treasury a ring which rendered the wearer invincible in battle, his minister furtively removed the same and bestowed it upon Llewellyn of Wales. As charm rings, too, must be reckoned those which enclosed small relics. But rings so used seem for the most part to have been worn attached by a ribbon or chain to the neck, and not on the finger. Since such highly valued objects as charmed stones could only be obtained by a few, cabalistic inscriptions often took their place. Many of the devotional rings, with the names Jesus, Mary, and Joseph engraved on them, were used as a preservative against the plague; but the most popular inscription was, as has been seen, the names of the Three Kings of the East, which were a powerful charm against peril by travel and sudden death. Such rings were worn against the cramp. There were also caract rings of superstitious use, which bore charms in the form of inscriptions, such as ANANIZAPTA. Many other rings of this class have cabalistic names and strange barbaric words and combinations utterly unintelligible. The fyancel or wedding ring appears to be of Roman origin, and was usually given at the betrothal as a pledge of the engagement. Two forms of these rings are the “gimmel” and the “posy” rings. Gimmel rings (French, jumelle, a twin) are composed of two hoops forming, when closed, one ring, and so constructed as to play when open one within the other. They are of two sorts: those which are either plain or set with precious stones, and those which have the device of the fede or two right hands joined. Inscriptions or mottoes, as a rule in Norman-French, are to be found on rings of the fourteenth, and more frequently on those of the fifteenth century. They were called “chansons,” and also “resons” or “reasons,” and later, poesies, posies, or posys. These love inscriptions, generally engraved on the outside of the ring (though placed inside in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) are for the most part the same as those found on the brooches of the time, inscriptions such as Je suis ici en lieu d’ami, and the like, being of frequent occurrence. More rarely the motto is in English, as on the beautiful iconographic gold ring in the British Museum. New Years Day among the Romans was a dies faustus and objects of jewellery were usually among the presents which it was the custom to exchange on that occasion. In the Middle Ages also the advent of the New Year was celebrated by the bestowal of presents. Among these estrennes jewellery was a prominent item, and on the rings of the period (like the one figured on p. 150) the inscription, en bon an frequently occurs. A very extensive group of mediaeval finger rings is formed by signets. These are marked with some device, such as an animal, a bird, a tree, or any other object, so that they could be easily recognised; hence they were often given as credentials to a messenger. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries rings of silver, and occasionally of gold, occur, with a crest or coat-of-arms, or with devices in the form of initials, and certain arbitrary signs called merchants’ marks, which were used by merchants and Others not entitled to armorial bearings. Piers Plowman speaks of “merchantes merkes ymedeled in glasse.” Such rings were often worn on the thumb. Though armorial signets were worn in Italy as early as the fourteenth century, they were not common in England till the commencement of the sixteenth. Somewhat similar are certain devotional signet rings of silver or base metal, engraved with an initialgenerally the letter I surmounted by a coronet. The is probably the initial of the Saviour’s name, such rings being worn from a belief in the efficacy of holy names as preservatives from evil. In connection with the mediæval use of ancient engraved stones, the fashion of wearing Roman intaglios in rings has already been noticed. Upon the metal setting around these gems a legend in Latin was often engraved; the most usual inscription being SIGILLUM SECRETI, SIGILLUM MEUM, or the word SIGILLUM, followed by the name of the owner (Pl. XXIII, I1). Rings which have the appearance of being purely ornamental were worn throughout the Middle Ages in considerable numbers both by men and women; vet at the same time it must ever be borne in mind that the stones set in them had probably in the eyes of the possessors a value quite independent of their use as ornaments. In the Gold Ornament Room of the British Museum is a collection of five English rings of silver of the twelfth century. They are of small intrinsic value, but of considerable interest as authenticated examples of ornamental rings of the period; for with the exception of those found on the fingers of prelates, the date of early rings is sometimes difficult to determine. The rings were dug up at Lark Hill, near Worcester, in 1854, together with upwards of two hundred pennies of Henry II. They probably date, therefore, from about the end of the century.104 The peculiarity of many of the richer ornamental rings of this period is the tendency to place the stone upon a high case or stalk, so that the bezel is raised considerably above the hand. A curious example, dating from the fourteenth century, is in the Sauvageot Collection in the Galerie d’Apollon of the Louvre. It shows two dragons’ heads issuing S from crown-shaped ornaments supporting a sapphire in a high collet. In the fifteenth century a large number of rings appear to have been habitually worn; and on the monument of Lady Stafford in Bromsgrove Church, Worcestershire (1450), every finger but the last one on the right hand is decorated with a ring. In many of the Flemish pictures of the same date we find ornamental rings set with table-cut or cabochon stones. The form of these is admirably represented in the portrait of a goldsmith, ascribed to Gerard David, in the Royal Gallery at Vienna. In his right hand he holds one ring, and in the left a short roll of parchment, on which are placed four more. The rings are somewhat massive, and thicken towards the bezel, where they are mounted with table-cut stones within plain claw settings. In the same gallery is John van Eyck’s portrait, dated 1436, of John De Leeuw, jeweller to Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy. He holds between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand a gold ring set with a small cabochon stone. This notice of mediaeval finger rings may be concluded by drawing attention to a picture which, in view of the jewellery of the Middle Ages, is one of the most fascinating of all the productions of the Flemish school. The panel in question, the property of Baron A. Oppenheim, of Cologne, represents the legend of St. Godeberta and St. Eloy. It was painted in the year 1449 for the corporation of goldsmiths of Antwerp by Petrus Christus, who flourished in the first half of the fifteenth century, and died at Bruges about 1472. Appropriately enough, the patron saint of goldsmiths is figured in his shop; and the picture thus affords us a singularly interesting and attractive representation of the interior of a jeweller’s shop in the middle of the fifteenth century with every detail of its glittering contents. St. Eloy or Eligius, whose figure, for all we know, may be the portrait of some wellknown jeweller of the day, is seen seated at the goldsmith’s bench, beside which stand Dagobert, King of France, and St. Godeberta. He is employed in weighing the ring with which the King seeks to espouse the Virgin Saint; but instead, so the legend runs, of giving her the engagement ring, he slipped on her finger a ruby ring, mystically espousing her to Christ. The King wears, pinned to the front of his black chaperon, a brooch or enseigne, set with a ruby surrounded by four pearls and having a pendent drop. Round his neck is a curb chain of alternate plain and beaded links, from which hangs a jewel formed of two lions affrontés. Godeberta’s head-dress, or escoffion, is of embroidered gold sewn with pearls. The pendant of her neck-chain, hidden by the bodice, lies between the breasts. Very carefully rendered is each item of the choice collection of objects that forms the goldsmith’s stockin-trade, exhibited on a stall covered with white linen on the left hand of the goldsmith-saint. Below is a box of rings, some plain, some mounted, ranged along three rolls of parchment. Beside them lie large pearls and precious stones, and seed pearls sorted in a shell by themselves. Behind, against the back, rest a branch of coral and oblong pieces of rock crystal and of opaque stone of porphyry-red. Above, on a piece of dark cloth, hang three splendid jewels—a pendant and two brooches, and next to them a pair of tooth-like pendants, probably glossopetrae. From the shelf on the top is suspended a string of red, amber, and pale blue rosary beads, and in the middle a girdle end of brown leather with buckle and mounts of gilded metal. The remainder of the collection, formed of various vessels, comprises a crystal cylinder set with gold and precious stones and a mounted cocoanut cup; and on the upper shelf a covered cup and a couple of tall flagons of silver parcel-gilt. This remarkable picture at once brings to mind that strangely interesting series of interiors afterwards produced by Quentin Matsys and Marinus van Romerswael, representing money-changers, bankers, or usurers busily engaged in counting up or weighing coins scattered before them on a table, upon which also sometimes lie a handsome ring or two, a richly jewelled pendant, or unset precious stones and pearls.
BRACELETS
Bracelets were as little in vogue as earrings during the Middle Ages, and remarks made concerning the latter apply also to bracelets, in that they only appear as the lingering traces of Byzantine fashions which, until the commencement of the twelfth century, made themselves strongly felt throughout the whole of Europe. In the National Museum at Munich is a gold armlet formed of two hinged halves covered with filigree and beaded ornament. Its outer rims are of twisted gold, and within are bands of fine plaited wire. It is adorned with bosses of filigree alternating with pyramidal projections. The origin of this fine ornament is unknown, but it probably dates from about the eleventh or twelfth century (Pl. XVIII, 6). The National Museum of Buda-Pesth contains a pair of very similar armlets. In connection with these ornaments the persistence of tradition in goldsmith’s work is curiously seen, since armlets closely resembling the earlier examples are made and worn in Cairo at the present day. During the latter part of the Middle Ages it appears to have been a common practice for ladies to wear rosaries or chaplets of beads upon their wrists as bracelets. With these exceptions, the long sleeves that were worn throughout the greater part of the Middle Ages did not favour the use of an ornament that demanded the bare skin as a foundation. Ornamental circlets round the upper arm, which are not infrequently met with in pictures, must be regarded as gold-embroidered edgings or bands. It is true they were frequently set with pearls, stones, and decorations in gold, but as they were sewn upon the sleeves they have no actual claim to the name of armlets. Armlets or bracelets appear to have been worn to a certain extent towards the close of the fifteenth century, but to have been reserved chiefly for summer wear. “If the bracelets we ordered months ago are not here till the summer is over and we no longer wear our arms bare, they will be of no use.” So, about 1491, says Mrs. Ady, wrote the famous Isabella d’Este, Marchioness of Mantua, to the skilled goldsmith, Ercole Fedeli, of Ferrara, who had failed to execute her order punctually. The dilatoriness of the same artist on another occasion kept the marchioness waiting four years for a pair of silver bracelets, and they would never, she declared, have been finished in her lifetime if Duke Alfonso had not thrown him into the Castello dungeon.105 Though there are other references to the use of bracelets in the fifteenth century, it was not until about the middle of the century following that this species of ornament came into general use.
CHAPTER XIX
MEDIAEVAL BELTS AND GIRDLES
The girdle or ceinture of elaborate workmanship formed no inconsiderable part of the jewellery of the wealthy in the Middle Ages. Though actual examples are extremely rare, there is scarcely an effigy or picture from the thirteenth century to the beginning of the sixteenth which does not supply us with some varied form of this indispensable article; while the wills and inventories of the period often contain descrip tions of girdles of extraordinary richness. By the poor, too, the girdle was habitually worn, but with them it frequently dwindled down to a few metal knobs sewn on to leather or on to coarse cloth. In addition to the upper girdle for fastening round the waist, a lower girdle was worn, both as an ornament and as a belt for the sword. It was a broad and sometimes stiff band which loosely encircled the body about the hips, and in the case of male attire was sometimes attached to the lower border of the tunic. with which it converged. Of the narrower and more pliable species of girdle, the portions reserved for special enrichment were the ends, one of which terminated in the buckle, and the other in the pendant or mordant. Some account of the buckle and of its plate, to which the strap of the girdle is attached, has already been given in the Introduction. Always a favourite field in former times for the display of the jeweller’s art, it was likewise richly adorned by the goldsmiths of the later Middle Ages. At the other end of the girdle was a metal attachment or chape which gave it consistency where it was most required. This girdle end, which hung down and was known as the tag or pendant, was decorated with various designs frequently of an architectural character and sometimes set with precious stones; but whenever such decorations projected beyond the sides of the strap the buckle was made wider in like manner, and if tassels and other ornaments were added they were always of such size that they could pass easily through the buckle. The metal shape thus covering the end of the belt was also called the mordant (of the same derivation as the word morse), especially if in the absence of a buckle it was so constructed as to hook on to a clasp to facilitate securing the belt round the person. The mordant often forms with the buckle-plate a single design, its decorated front being either as large as the plate, or of such a shape as to form with it a regular figure. From the twelfth century, when from sepulchral monuments106 we obtain our first information respecting the girdle, until the seventeenth, we nearly always find that the end, when passed through the buckle, was twisted round the waist-strap and hung down in front, in the case of men about twelve inches and with women almost to the ground. But when, instead of a buckle, a clasp formed of a central stud or rosette was employed, either the end of the girdle itself hung down, or an additional chain was attached at the point of junction, To this was sometimes suspended a pomander-box, tablets, or a pendent reliquary. This mode, however, of suspending such objects did not come generally into vogue till the time of the Renaissance, and when worn in the earlier period at the girdle they were hung at the side from a hook, somewhat like a chatelaine. The girdle itself was usually about two yards in length, and consisted of a strap of stamped leather, or a band of material with a firm foundation, upon which were set button-shaped decorations at regular intervals. This was known as the studded girdle (ceinture ferrée). Among the wealthy the studs were composed of the precious metals, against which the sumptuary laws both at home and abroad (of little effect it would seem) contained special prohibitions. The studs upon the girdles of the poor were generally of the alloy of brass and tin called latten or laton, and the term “pearled with latoun” is mentioned in the Canterbury Tales. There is still in existence in the City of London the Girdlers’ Company, which is of great antiquity. By a charter granted them by Edward III in 1327 it was forbidden to the girdlers to, garnish any girdle of silk, wool, leather, or linen thread, with any inferior metal than latten, copper, iron, and steel, and if any girdles were garnished with lead, pewter, or tin, the same should be burned, and the workmen punished for their false work.107 In spite of this prohibition girdles appear to have been frequently mounted with the baser metals, and a considerable number with mountings of pewter have been discovered. Their ordinance, as did that of latoners or workers in latten, likewise forbade girdlers from interfering with the trade of the goldsmiths by mounting girdles or garters with gold or silver; and that if a girdler wished to harness his goods with either of the precious metals he was obliged to employ a goldsmith. In 1376 a girdler of the City of London was accused of “having secretly made in his chamber a certain girdle that was harnessed with silver.” Upon being brought before the justices he pleaded that his offence was a light one compared with the more serious fraud of plating with silver objects of base metal. He was dismissed with a warning. Subsequently he was convicted of the very fraud he himself had mentioned, and punished with a heavy fine.108 The work of the English goldsmiths in the adornment of girdles appears to have been well known and recognised upon the Continent, and an inventory of the jewels of the Duke and Duchess of Orleans in 1408 mentions a girdle of rich goldwork set with pearls and sapphires de la façon a Angleterre. The mediæeval girdle, seldom as in later times in the form of a chain, but generally composed of leather, was sometimes ornamented in the most costly manner. In the inventory of Edward II is “a girdle in the old style probably [filigree-work] set with letters of pearls: the buckle and mordant enamelled with escutcheons of the arms of England and others.”109 In the expenses of the Great Wardrobe of Edward III110 there occurs an entry of 304 dozens of silver buckles, and a similar number of pendants, while his jewels deposited in the Treasury included many complete girdles enriched with enamels and precious stones.111 From the many fifteenth-century girdles of extraordinary richness described in the inventories, the following, the property of Henry IV, may be selected as an example: “Item, a girdle of black silk, of gold, garnished with various stones. With 28 bars112 of gold, 13 of which are set with 13 balasses, and 4 pearls at the corners, and 14 bars, each enamelled with various flowers, and on each 4 pearls. Set on the buckle is one balas, 10 large and 6 small pearls. On the pendant one balas, 8 large and 5 small pearls.” This entry probably refers to the broader and richer kind of girdle, known as the military belt (cingulum);113 a similar belt being also worn by women. It was generally employed by men, as was sometimes the narrow girdle, for the purpose of hanging the sword. This belt, frequently composed of silk or gold tissue, seems to have come into general use about the fourteenth century, and was worn round the hips. It was often furnished with a buckle and mordant, but was more usually united by a clasp, which at times was made very prominent, and assumed excessive dimensions. Girdles and belts in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries were sometimes studded with medallions of Limoges enamel. There is in the Victoria and Albert Museum a beautiful fifteenth-century Italian belt of gold tissue (Pl. XXXVIII, 1). Its buckle, studs, and other ornaments are of gilt metal, and the broad buckleplate is enriched with niello work, bearing the legend Virtus vin[cit]. Two silver-gilt plates from a Gothic girdle of Flemish work of the fifteenth century are in the possession of Herr James Simon, of Berlin. Each plate is almost square, and measures 13/4 by 11/2 inches. The centres are sunk: within one is a figure of Samson and the Lion, and in the other a figure on horseback, probably St. George or St. Michael. The figures, in full relief and delicately modelled, are each surrounded by pearls and blossoms, the groundwork being covered with bright green enamel, on which are small dots of white enamel capped with red. The plates are ornamented at each corner with chased Gothic foliage, and have hinges at the sides to unite them to other similar sections, of which the complete girdle was, perhaps, originally composed (Pl. XXV, 4). Of frequent occurrence in old English wills is the word demysent (or demysens), which refers to the little girdles worn by women: they were known in France as demi-ceints or demi-ceintures. Another species of girdle was called the baldrick—derived from the French baudrier; the baudroier being the currier who prepared skins for the purpose. The term baldric or baudric, sometimes applied to the military belt worn round the waist, was generally employed for a belt worn over one shoulder, across the breast, and under the opposite arm.114 It was often of a rich description and set with precious stones, and in early times was occasionally hung with little bells.115 Among the girdles in the possession of Henry IV116 one is garnished with heads of stags and small pearls, and another with ostrich plumes and little golden bells. Others, mostly of stuff, are garnished with various flowers, mostly roses, or with ivy leaves, and the majority are hung with little bells. In addition to such enrichments, which included also coats of arms, girdles bore inscriptions, engraved on the buckle-plate, or formed of letters sewn upon the band. These latter were often of an amatory or of a superstitious character; for, like other articles of mediæval jewellery, the girdle, on account of the stones, etc., set upon it, was frequently considered endowed with talismanic properties. Chaucer in his adaptation of the older “Roman de la Rose” describes the rich jewelled girdle, worn by one of the emblematical characters in the Garden of Love. It was set with stones evidently valued for their mystic properties. Richesse a girdle had upon, The bokell of it was of a ston, Of vertue grete, and mokell of might. The mordaunt wrought in noble wyse, Was of a stone full precious, That was so fine and vertuous, That whole a man it couth make Of palasey and of totheake. Attached directly to the girdle or suspended from it by a hook or chain was a purse or pouch called either a gipcière, aulmonière, or escarcelle, which was made of velvet, silk, or stamped leather. The gipcière (also written gypcyre) is mentioned most frequently in early documents, where it is often described as being enriched with embroidery, and set with pearls and precious stones. Like the aulmonière and escarcelle, it was worn from the thirteenth to the sixteenth century hung from a loop at the right side of the girdle. The heads or clasps of the finest purses were of beautiful work manship, of silver, bronze, or iron, damascened, or exquisitely chiselled. For ordinary use these headsknown as gipcière beams—as well as the mounts or frames of the purses, were made of brass or latten; and judging from the number that has been found and preserved, in the Guildhall Museum, for instance, their use must have been very general in mediæeval times.
RENAISSANCE JEWELLERY
CHAPTER XX
ITALY, FIFTEENTH CENTURY
The history of Renaissance jewellery in general may be approached by reviewing the condition of Italian jewellery in the fifteenth century. In the foregoing outline of European jewellery to the end of the fifteenth century—which has served as an approximate date for the termination of the mediaeval epoch—practically no reference has been made to Italy. One need only examine the general style of Italian painting, architecture, and sculpture of the Quattrocento, to see how far apart the art of Italy stands from that of the rest of Europe. Italian jewellery certainly merits the great reputation it has always possessed. Nor is this surprising, considering the prominent part played by the goldsmiths in the renaissance of artistic taste—by these craftsmen who, in the highest sense artists, were the first to break the fetters of tradition, and yield to those impulses that sought a wider field for the gratification of their creative instinct. Hence the history of the jeweller’s art in Italy at the period of the Quattrocento largely resolves itself into the biographies of those master sculptors and painters, who worked first as goldsmiths and jewellers, and throughout their careers remained ever mindful of their original trade. Venice, which in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries was the wealthiest city and the principal port in Europe, though rivalled in the former century by Bruges and by Antwerp in the latter, encouraged the use of luxurious jewellery, as did the great cities of the north. But Florence undoubtedly took the lead as an artistic centre, judging alone by the artists she produced. The paintings of the Venetian school (the work of Crivelli, for instance), and those of the schools of Tuscany, etc., reveal the exquisite beauty of ecclesiastical jewellery, and of the ornaments with which men, no less than women, loved to deck their persons. Nearly every painter possessed an insight into the mysteries of the goldsmith’s craft, and represented his subject, whatever it might be, with careful attention to its jewelled accessories. The great merchants of opulent and artistic cities, such as Siena, Milan, and others, besides Venice and Florence, delighted in rich jewels; and the masters of the schools of painting which had their centres in these towns have preserved in glowing pigment a faithful record of these delicate works of art, on which the eminent jewellers of the day lavished their skill and ingenuity. The great superiority and beauty of the personal ornaments revealed to us in this manner must first of all be ascribed to that awakening to the full joy of life that was so characteristic a feature of the Renaissance. The rapture of spring ran riot in men’s veins. Life was an uninterrupted succession of revelry and gaiety, amid splendour of colouring and glitter of gold. The goldsmith emerges from the subordinate state he occupied in the mediaeval guild, and attains fame as a free artist, whose duty was to minister personally to the luxurious tastes of those who played a part in the gorgeous pageant of the new epoch. The goldsmiths included among their ranks great master craftsmen, whose perfection of technical skill seemed to find satisfaction only in overcoming the greatest problems that their art could offer. Vasari tells of the very close connection and almost constant intercourse that existed between the goldsmiths and the painters. Indeed, nearly every artist, before applying himself to painting, architecture, or sculpture, began with the study of the goldsmith’s craft, and passed the years of his apprenticeship in the technical details of an industry that then supplied the strictest method of design.117 The names of several artists of the Renaissance have been handed down who are specially recorded as having worked at jewellery. One of the earliest of those who began their career in the goldsmith’s workshops is Ghiberti (b. 1378), who throughout life remained faithful to that species of work. His jewellery is specially extolled by Vasari. Following upon Ghiberti were two great jewellers, Tommaso (commonly called Maso) di Finiguerra and Antonio Pollaiuolo; the former famous for his nielli, the latter for his enamel-work upon relief. Pollaiuolo’s love for jewel-forms in his paintings (executed together with his brother Piero) is seen not only in the Annunciation at Berlin, but in the group of SS. Eustace, James, and Vincent in the Uffizi, and the portrait of Simonetta Vespucci at Chantilly. Born in 1435, a few years after Pollaiuolo, Andrea del Verrocchio resembled in the peculiar versatility of his genius, others of these typical artists of the Middle or High Renaissance—the Epoch of the Goldsmith it has been termed. A jeweller whose influence in his own day was greater, and whose fame almost equalled that of Cellini, was Ambrogio Foppa, called Caradosso, who was born about 1446 at Milan. He worked first in the service of Ludovico Sforza, and afterwards at Rome, where he died as late as the year 1530. He seems to have been skilled in every branch of the goldsmith’s art, and especially excelled in making little medallions of gold, enriched with figures in high relief and covered with enamels, which were worn as enseignes in the hat or hair. His work in this direction is highly extolled by Cellini, and his skill in enamelling specially mentioned by Vasari. Among the artists of the end of the fifteenth century who, after being goldsmiths and jewellers, became celebrated as painters must be mentioned Botticelli (1444-1510), Domenico del Ghirlandaio (1449-1494), and Francia (1450-1517). Ghirlandaio is commonly referred to as a maker of the jewelled coronals (ghirlande), popular with the unmarried and newly wedded ladies of Florence. It is probable that he did produce this class of work in early life; but his name seems to have been borne by several members of his family, for in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries a goldsmith was often familiarly termed “Ghirlandaio,” as one of his chief occupations was the manufacture of the rich head-ornaments then so much in vogue. Though Ghirlandaio does not fill his pictures with dainty details like the intricate settings which Botticelli devised for the neck-pendants of the Graces in his “Primavera,” yet he invariably pays careful regard to the representation of jewelled accessories. Such may be seen in the well-known portrait of Giovanna Tornabuoni (1488), belonging to Mr. Pierpont Morgan (formerly in the Kann Collection). She has two jewels: one. worn on her breast, is formed of a ruby in claw setting with a small beryl above, and hung with three pendent pearls; the other, specially introduced into the picture and lying beside her in a recess, is composed of a cluster of stones—a ruby surrounded by two pearls and three beryls -beautifully set, and surmounted by a winged dragon with a sapphire over its head. Resting upon a table in the foreground of another picture —a curious panel in the possession of Mr. George Salting—representing Costanza de’ Medici, are several pins, three rings on a roll of parchment, and a pendant hung with three pearls and set with a large and a small sapphire. In the Pitti Gallery is a portrait, not by Domenico, but by his son Ridolfo Ghirlandaio, which may be here alluded to owing to the special interest of its subject. The portrait is that of a jeweller holding in his hand and gazing intently at what is presumably one of his own creations—a richly enamelled jewel fashioned in the form of a “pelican in its piety.” Concerning the jewellery of the great goldsmith of Bologna, Francesco Raibolini, called Francia, a considerable amount of information has been preserved. Born in 1450, he passed the best part of his life as a goldsmith, and not till he was upwards of forty did he abandon the goldsmith’s art for that of the painter.118 One of Francia s finest paintings is the “Felicini” altarpiece in the Bologna Gallery, executed in 1484 by commission of Messer Bartolomeo Felicini for the church of S. Maria della Misericordia in that city. Among the many splendid gifts this famous church had received was a jewel which the records say was set by Francia himself. Its beauty was held in such esteem, that by desire of the chapter the artist introduced it into his picture, where it can be seen hanging over the head of the Madonna. Its centre is occupied by a fine amethyst, and is bordered by deep blood-crimson enamel, with pearls at the angles. So carefully is every detail of this jewel painted, that a modern goldsmith has found no difficulty in copying it with absolute exactness119 (Pl. XXV, 1). The last of the great jewellers of the Quattrocento was Michelagnolo di Viviano, who worked at Florence under the patronage of Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici. He was the earliest instructor of the greatest goldsmith and jeweller of the late Renaissance, Benvenuto Cellini, in whose Treatise and Life he is spoken of with the highest praise. From actual examples we obtain but slight information of the Italian ornaments of the fifteenth century; but that there is a distinct alteration in the style of jewellery between the Quattrocento and the Cinquecento, the pictures of these great artistic periods offer abundant proofs. This difference is particularly noticeable in ornaments for the head. During the fifteenth century we find the forehead heightened, and the space thus obtained emphasised by a single jewel placed at the top of the brow. This form of ornament is admirably shown in Piero della Francesca’s “Nativity” in the National Gallery, and particularly in his “Madonna and Child,” with saints and angels, and with the donor, Federigo of Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino, in the Brera, Milan. The parts of these two pictures most characteristic of the artist are the figures of the angels, who wear jewels executed with extraordinary brilliancy — compositions of pearls in delicate goldwork enriched with blue enamel. Precious stones and jewels were often sewn, at regular intervals, all round the band of ribbon or galloon that encircled the head, as seen in a portrait in the Ambrosiana, Milan, ascribed to Ambrogio da Predis, and considered to be that of Beatrice d’ Este; but it is more usual to find in the centre of the brow an isolated jewel, held by a narrow ribbon or silken cord, knotted at the back of the headas in Caroto’s portrait of the Duchess Elizabeth Gonzaga in the Uffizi, who wears on the forehead a jewelled scorpion, emblem of logic. This head-ornament is known as the ferronnière; and the origin of its title is somewhat peculiar. There is in the Louvre an attractive and greatly admired portrait of a lady, with her hair held in place by a black cord supporting a diamond in the middle of the forehead. For many years the portrait was entitled “La Belle Ferronnière”, having been erroneously considered to be that of the blacksmith’s wife (ferronnière) whose beauty enthralled Francis I in his declining years. It is now generally held to be a portrait of Lucrezia Crivelli, mistress of Ludovico Moro, Duke of Milan. The name of the painter is a matter of dispute, though the work is still ascribed, as it has long been, to Leonardo da Vinci. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, when the Romantic movement was at its height, a similar ornament was revived, and received its present name under a misconception of the subject of the picture. In the sixteenth century this simple ornament is abandoned, and it was the painter’s task to depict magnificent coiffures, like those of Veronese’s ladies, sprinkled with jewels and entwined with ropes of pearls. As regards the ornaments for the neck, the changes of fashion in the two periods and the artistic mode of expressing the fashion demanded a different style of jewellery. The slender neck which is displayed in the portraits of the earlier period required lighter ornaments than did the massive forms of the later. “The artist no longer trifled with single gems, hanging on a thread, but painted a solid chain, and the light, closefitting necklace becomes pendent and heavy.”120 The distinct refinement exhibited in Italy in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries did not demand a great profusion or variety of jewellery. As the pendent ornament for the neck-chain, a simple jewel formed by one stone in the centre and smaller stones or four pearls around seems in most cases to have been sufficient. Circular pendants of niello-work surrounded by silver-gilt bands of corded ornament were much in use, and a small number, dating from about 1460 to 1530, have survived. They sometimes bear a religious subject (Pl. XIX, 4). But not infrequently the head of a lady is represented in profile, generally with a flower under her nose; and it is possible that these were worn by men as a pledge of affection from their lady-love. Finger rings with somewhat similar designs were also worn (Pl. XXIII, 16). Beyond a small number of objects of this description, very few examples of Italian Quattrocento jewellery have escaped the crucible. The change of taste even between the early and the full Renaissance was sufficient to cause their destruction. Among surviving jewels of this century is a very beautiful gold and enamel pendant in the collection of Mr. Pierpont Morgan. It is circular in form, and was probably intended as a reliquary. Upon the front is an Annunciation in high relief. The garment of the Virgin is enriched with red and blue, and that of the angel with red and white enamel; the chequered base being of translucent green. Around is a border of leaves and flowers enamelled red and white. The openwork back consists of a central rosette, surrounded by interlacing curves, and edged with a delicate wreath (Pl. XXV, 2). It remains to draw attention, by means of a beautiful representation of jewellery in painting, to an example of the style of brooch worn in Florence in the latter part of the fifteenth century. The picture referred to is that of the Virgin and Child (No. 296) in the National Gallery. It is apparently the work of Verrocchio, Pollaiuolo, or one of the goldsmith-painters of whom we have spoken; for the minute execution of the ornaments would seem to denote the hand of an artist who had practised the goldsmith’s and jeweller’s art. The brooch that serves as a fastening for the Virgin’s cloak—the same being represented on that of one of the angelsis of most charming design. It has in the centre a table-cut ruby, around which are set four pearls between ornaments in the form of blackberries, surrounded by an outer border of blackberry leaves. So carefully is the jewel drawn that every detail can bear close inspection. A peculiar point of interest is that the pearls, each of which is set in a couple of crutch-like clasps, appear to correspond to the perles à potences frequently mentioned in the contemporary jewel inventories of the Dukes of Burgundy. Some measure of compensation for the unfortunate lack of actual examples of Italian Quattrocento jewellery is obtained, apart from their representation in pictures, by the very remarkable use that was made of jewel forms for the marginal decoration of manuscripts. Such enrichments of the borders of missals, etc., by means of painted jewel ornaments, would seem to be but the direct outcome of the system whereby most of the painters, sculptors, architects, and no less eminent miniaturists received their first instruction in art in the workshops of the goldsmiths. It is certain from their quality that the jewels represented in manuscripts, generally in their natural size, are the work of artists well acquainted with the jeweller’s art, whose eyes were further impressed by the embroidered edgings of ecclesiastical vestments enriched with jewel ornaments and sewn with pearls and precious stones. In painting with corresponding luxury the border decorations of church missals, the miniaturists have obviously not drawn on their imagination, or constructed jewel forms in a mere haphazard manner. The individual pieces, often complete jewels, are just such as might at the time have been found on the shelves of some goldsmith’s workshop. Among the most skilful of such reproductions of jewels are those in the celebrated choir books of the cathedral of Siena, particularly the pages painted by Liberale di Giacomo da Verona, who worked at Siena from the year 1466. An examination of these illuminations reveals Liberale as an artist thoroughly conversant with the jeweller’s craft: so that his work, together with that of his followers, such as the Florentine Giovanni di Giuliano Boccardi, the Dominican Fra Eustachio, Litti di Filippo Corbizi, Monte di Giovanni, Antonio di Girolamo, the famous Attavante, and the various miniaturists of King Mathias Corvinus of Hungary, apart from its charming execution, constitutes a veritable storehouse of information respecting the ornaments of the period. Particularly fine examples of jewelled and enamelled decorations are also contained in choir books in the cathedral of Florence, missals in the Barberini Palace, Rome, a Bible of Mathias Corvinus in the Vatican Library, several books in the Brera at Milan, and the fine Glockendon missal (circa 1540) in the Town Library at Nuremberg. More important perhaps than all is the Grimani Breviary, now in the Library of St. Mark’s, Venice. The ornamentation of this famous work, the product of a Flemish artist of the final years of the fifteenth century, displays a northern naturalism favourable to the striking representation of jewel forms, and serves to illustrate the close and active relationship then existing between the Flemish and Italian goldsmiths.121
CHAPTER XXI
SIXTEENTH-CENTURY JEWELLERY (GENERAL)
ITALY, SIXTEENTH CENTURY
Great ostentation and external splendour were the chief features of the Renaissance. So, if the jewellery of this time appears to us more magnificent than that of any other, this superiority is but an indirect result of the intermediate causes which find a place in all that is included under the term Renaissance. In enumerating certain characteristics that distinguish sixteenth-century jewellery from that of other epochs, the enormous quantity used may first of all be noted. A general increase in wealth had taken place, but in the comparative rarity of opportunity for investments, it was still customary to keep gold and precious stones secreted,122 or, as was more generally done, make them into ornaments of small compass and easily convertible into hard cash. Coupling this with the magnificent style of living during the Renaissance, we need feel less surprise at the extraordinary abundance of jewellery which we read of in contemporary chronicles, and find represented in the utmost variety on the portraits of the period. Men of solid reputation and serious disposition seem, equally with women, to have fallen victims to the reigning passion for jewellery. If we are at first inclined to wonder at the number of Cinquecento jewels that has survived, we can more readily understand that they represent the merest fraction of what formerly existed, when we take into consideration all the risks of destruction such fragile and precious objects have undergone—objects by their nature the very first to disappear. Monetary pressure caused by war, the division of property, and many other events were fraught with danger to objects in the precious metals. Change of taste, almost as rapid as that in dress, which has caused the last fashion but one to be the least of all desired, necessitated the repeated refashioning of jewellery. Notwithstanding their perfection, the exquisite productions of the sixteenth century were unable to resist the fatal influence of fashion, and were largely broken up towards the termination of the seventeenth century, when brilliant enamels and artistically wrought gold were less in request, and the precious metals became entirely subservient to the stones, for which they acted simply as settings. On the other hand, their small size, which has rendered them easy to conceal, accounts for the preservation of some examples, while mere chance, or perhaps an historical association, oft-times solely traditional, has saved others from destruction. The finest productions of the artificers of antiquity transcend in abstract beauty of design everything, perhaps, that has since been produced. Those of the mediæeval craftsmen possess a charm and beauty impossible to deny, and a peculiar naiveté and ingenuousness of their own, to be looked for in vain elsewhere. It must be acknowledged, however, that the jewels of the Renaissance, the receptacle of every variety of adornment by way of precious stones, pearls, and enamels that the goldsmith could devise in order to enrich them, are in their own manner incomparable. It may be that some err so far on the side of over-elaboration that they lose the balance and dignity of harmonious design, but the majority possess qualities rarely found in combination save at this remarkable period—a richness of form, boldness of conception, and extraordinary refinement of technique. There is no species of technical work, whether it was a case of hammering, chasing, or casting, or, above all, enamelling, that was not then brought to perfection. But the splendours of the Renaissance must not blind us to the efforts of the preceding age; for thorough though the change was from the style of Gothic art, the jewellers of the Renaissance were deeply indebted to the mediæval traditions which they had by their side to aid them in developing their artistic conceptions. Another noticeable point with regard to the jewellery of this period is its astonishing variety. Its decline, and reduction to a monotonous repetition of design, coincides with the disappearance of those artists who possessed the universality of a man like Cellini and with the division of labour characteristic of modern art and industry. In addition to the enormous quantity used, a distinctive feature of Renaissance ornaments is the preference shown for colour. The placing together of bright-coloured gems with delicately worked gold invariably enriched with polychrome enamels is the fundamental motive of the jewellery of the period. So admirable was the craftsman’s taste that each jewel forms in itself a scheme perfect in design and colour, and the rubies, emeralds, and sapphires introduced for the sake of their colour values, serve the composition as a whole without overwhelming it; while the diamond, which comprised almost the sole material of the jewellery of later times, was used only for purposes of contrast. It cannot be said that precious stones had entirely forfeited their mediæeval reputation at the period of the revival; but as jewellery was beginning to assume generally the character of mere ornament, the stones which enriched it were naturally chosen rather with an eye to their decorative qualities than for any fancied virtues they might be considered to possess. One of the charms of this old jewellery lies in the setting of its stones, which are mostly table-cut, and fixed in square pyramidal collets. The usual process of setting was to rub the upper edges of the closed and box-like collet over the setting edge of the stone, and occasionally to lay over this an additional ornament in imitation of claws. This manner of beating up or pressing the edges of the collet over the faceted sides of the stone is extremely pleasing, for the stone, with its colour thrown up by a foil or paillon, harmonises admirably with the somewhat irregular frame of gold that surrounds it. The art of enamelling, especially where figures are represented in full relief, attains the highest point of perfection. Even when enamels cover the various parts of jewels in a wondrous harmony of colour, the artists of the period contrived with extraordinary tact to leave small portions in gold : the hair of the figures, manes of horses, armour, weapons—glittering points that enhance the beauty of the whole. Translucent and opaque enamels are found side by side employed in different modes with astounding assurance. Extensive use was made of opaque white enamel, always by way of contrast; a favourite device being to enrich with it the edges of tendrils in the form of minute beads, each no larger than a pin’s head. It is the desire for harmony and beauty of execution, rather than for display of wealth, that characterises the best productions of the Renaissance, whose true value lies not in their intrinsic, but in their real artistic worth. The whole of every jewel, back as well as worth. front, is finished and enamelled with the same exquisite care. What little material value these jewels possessed when their form and design was destroyed and their beautiful devices obliterated is well illustrated by Brantôme’s story of the jewels of the Countess of Châteaubriand. This lady had been supplanted in the affections of Francis I by another—the future Duchess of Estampes—who persuaded the King to claim all the fine jewels he had bestowed on his former mistress. The value of these lay chiefly in their beautiful designs and devices, so on receiving the demand, she melted them all down, and returned them to him converted into golden ingots. The splendid love of life which finds expression in every production of Renaissance art exercises a pervading influence over its jewellery, and determines the subjects to be represented. All the larger objects, and indeed every object which is not of a purely decorative pattern, is given to the depicting of a subject. Throughout the finest period of jewellery, goldsmith’s work was closely associated with sculpture; and the human figure, or figures of animals either real or imaginary, wrought in relief or executed in the round, find a place on almost every jewelled composition. The subjects, largely chosen from among the new circle of ideas opened up by the literature of the Renaissance, reveal wide knowledge of classical mythology, romance, and poetic legends, as well as remarkable adaptive genius. Nor are subjects from the Old and New Testaments excluded; though fanciful groups—in one case a representation of some theological virtue, and in another some sacred allegory—are more popular. The symbolical figures of the Middle Ages, as the unicorn and the “ pelican in her piety,” with sea monsters and fantastic men and beasts, are of frequent occurrence. Subjects such as these, and many others suggested by the fertile mind of the Renaissance jeweller and the artist who drew his designs, are so numerous that space would fail were one to attempt to enumerate even a tithe of those met with on jewels of the Cinquecento. Notwithstanding its subjects, we find in the jewellery of the Renaissance, beyond what tradition had preserved, no direct influence resulting from the study of the ornaments of the ancients, though the awakened interest of Italy in the antique cannot but have been accompanied by some acquaintance with the productions of her early goldsmiths. There appears, however, to have been no attempt to base the jewels of the period on the forms of ancient ornaments, to imitate the beaded work of the Etruscans or the goldwork of ancient Greece or Rome. Yet Renaissance design of the sixteenth century, with its arabesques and scrollwork (best represented by Raphael’s famous arabesques in the Loggie of the Vatican) seems to have been in the main inspired by antique designs, such as the frescoes discovered at Rome in 1506, in the Baths of Petus—the so-called grottos, from which was derived, as Cellini explains, the term grotesque. The newly developed design, a combination of figures, masks, flowers, fruits, and various other details, applicable as it was to every branch of art, was peculiarly adapted to jewellery, and was quickly seized upon by the jewellers, who employed it for ornaments of a purely decorative formation, or for the framework or backgrounds of the exquisite figured compositions then so much in vogue. The real difficulty that confronts one in dealing with the jewellery of the sixteenth century lies not in the inability to obtain the necessary material examples, but in expressing a definite opinion as to their nationality and origin; and this difficulty the best informed and most experienced connoisseurs are the first to confess. The utmost, therefore, that one can hope to do, without attempting in every case to arrive at accurate conclusions, is to indicate, as far as possible, such means as may be of assistance in ascribing a nationality, not to all, but to at least the majority of Renaissance ornaments.
ITALY, SIXTEENTH CENTURY
Italian jewellery of the sixteenth century presents what is probably one of the most difficult problems in the whole history of the art. In the fifteenth century the almost complete absence of examples necessitates recourse mainly to pictures; but Italian pictures of the sixteenth century are of comparatively small assistance, from the fact that Italian painters of that period mostly neglected the preciosity of style and delicacy of perception that studied the gleam and shimmer on jewels and such-like objects. The bright blending of beautiful colours had to give way to strong shadows and skilful effects of perspective. There exists, on the other hand, an abundance of material in the form of actual specimens of Cinquecento jewellery, but owing to the far-reaching influence of the Renaissance style of ornament a decision as to their precise provenance is a matter of the utmost difficulty. The great popularity of one of the central figures of the late Renaissance—Benvenuto Cellini (1500-1572). has for many years caused the finest examples to be attributed to him or to his school, often with complete disregard of their design, which can be traced in many cases to another source. It is unnecessary to give a biographical account of the famous Florentine goldsmith, for his life may best be studied in his own memoirs. More to the present purpose is it to attempt to estimate the real position that Cellini should occupy, especially with regard to such examples of jewellery as have come down to the present day. Upon the question of Cellini the artistic world has long been divided into two camps. The majority of those who have previously dealt with the subject have considered it sufficient to sum up the whole history of the jeweller’s art of the sixteenth century under the name of this one artist, and to attribute everything important to him. The lively and singularly attractive narrative of his own life and adventures contains such candid glorification of himself and his work, that the temptation is strong to follow the majority, and, unmindful of his contemporaries, to associate with him, as he himself has done, the finest jewellery of the whole Renaissance. Eugène Plon, for example, Cellini’s chief exponent, in his magnificent work, Benvenuto Cellini, Orfèvre, Médailleur, Sculpteur (1883), though eminently just, and on the whole fair in his attributions, cannot disguise an evident desire to ascribe to the Florentine goldsmith, or at any rate to his school, not only several jewels which might conceivably be associated with Cellini, but also several others of more doubtful origin. Among these is the important group of jewels in the Rothschild Collection in the British Museum, known as the Waddesdon Bequest, the real origin of all of which is held by those best entitled to judge to be incontestably German. Cellini’s critics, on the other hand, sceptical, and in the main dispassionate, have placed him under a more searching light, and despoiled him of the halo with which his own memoirs have encircled him. He remains, however, an excellent and many-sided artist. thoroughly versed in all the technicalities of his craft, and one who without doubt strongly influenced his contemporaries. Admirable goldsmith and jeweller as he certainly was, he is entitled to the highest distinction, but not so much on account of the references in his Vita and Trattati to his own productions, as for his lucid treatment of technical questions. “Artists,” says Mr. Symonds, “who aspire to immortality should shun the precious metals.” Despite all that has been said respecting such jewels as the Leda and the Swan at Vienna (Pl. XXIX, 5), the Chariot of Apollo at Chantilly, and the mountings of the two cameos, the Four Cœsars and the Centaur and the Bacchic Genii in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, which have, with some degree of likelihood, been attributed to Cellini, the only quite authenticated example of his work as a goldsmith is the famous golden salt-cellar at Vienna. This object when looked at from the goldsmith’s point of view, in the matter of fineness of workmanship and skill in execution, is seen to possess particular characteristics which should be sufficient to prevent the attribution to Cellini of other contemporary work, created by jewellers who clearly drew their inspiration from entirely different sources. In endeavouring to affix a nationality to existing jewels, the only really serviceable landmarks are those furnished by the collections of engraved designs by German and French masters of ornament; and when these are compared with the contemporary work just spoken of, the common origin of nearly all becomes at once evident. Bearing in mind the skill and fame of the Italian goldsmiths, not only of Cellini, but of his contemporaries, such as Girolamo del Prato, Giovanni da Ferenzuola, Luca Agnolo, and Piero, Giovanni, and Romalo del Tovaloccio, the reason why the vast majority of extant jewels should follow German designs is difficult to understand. An authority no less reliable than Sir A. W. Franks has expressed an opinion that the designs of Dürer, Aldegrever, and other German artists were extensively used in Italy.123 Italian goldsmiths did not produce any such examples of engraved ornament for jewellery as did their confrères in Germany, France, and Flanders; but the current knowledge we possess of the art of the period renders it at least unlikely that the individuality which is the key-note of all the productions of the Italian Renaissance would have countenanced there, in Italy, the use of extraneous ready-made designs. Certainly artists of the stamp of Cellini would not have used them. One is forced nevertheless to acknowledge the possibility of minor Italian craftsmen having executed jewels from German engravings. The international character visible on so many art objects of the time must be attributed in no small degree to the circulation of such designs in almost all the workshops of Europe. A reason for the many difficulties that arise in connection with this particular question seems to lie in the fact that for causes unexplained the jewellery of the first half of the sixteenth century, whether Italian, German, or of other nationality, has almost all vanished, and that examples met with at the present day belong chiefly to the second half of that century. While acknowledging the existence of a fair number of jewels whose authorship cannot be otherwise than Italian, and without denying the possibility of the survival of examples of jewellery even from the hand of Cellini himself, a protest must be raised against the practice, hitherto so common, of describing every jewel of the sixteenth century as Italian, and of coupling every highclass object of this description with the magic name of Cellini.
CHAPTER XXII
THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY
GERMANY, THE LOW COUNTRIES, HUNGARY
Though introduced early into Germany, the style of the Italian Renaissance made its way but slowly in a country where the ideas of the Middle Ages long held possession of people’s minds. It was not till after about 1515, when the spread of books and engravings quickened its general acceptance, that the new movement gained ground there. The German goldsmiths, when once they had cast aside the Gothic style, seized upon Renaissance ornament with such avidity that by the second half of the sixteenth century they had acquired a widespread fame, and would seem by their richness of invention to have completely cast into the shade the Italian jewellers of their own day. From an early period there had been a steady flow of artists leaving Germany to study in the great Italian ateliers. The principal of these, and one who influenced his countrymen more than any, was Albert Dürer, who showed in the engravings produced after his journey to Italy a perfect apprehension of Italian design. As it travelled northward, Renaissance ornament increased in freedom from classic rule, and in the hands of the later draughtsmen and engravers who executed patterns for the goldsmiths, it lost much of its original purity, and assumed a mixed style, composed of strap and ribbon work, cartouches, and intricate complications of architectural members; while the industrious affectation of the jewellers of the day for manipulative difficulties led to the production of ornaments whose effect is sometimes marred by over-elaboration of detail. In addition to other circumstances, we must remember that the greater wealth of the middle classes was a powerful factor in the increasing production of jewellery. The goldsmiths consequently occupied an important position; and that there was a great demand for their services is proved by the fact that patterns for jewellery executed on their behalf by the foremost engravers of the day form no unimportant part of the engraved work produced by these artists. In Germany, as elsewhere, success in trade resulted in a demand for objects of luxury. The city of Augsburg, situated on a great trade route, early attained to a height of commercial prosperity, while Munich, and especially Nuremberg, not far distant, flourished to an equal degree. Under the stimulating patronage of wealthy families, such as the Fugger family of Augsburg, articles of jewellery of every kind were produced in abundance, and throughout the sixteenth century found their way over nearly the whole of Europe. In addition to these three cities, Prague during the last few years of the sixteenth and the commencement of the seventeenth century was likewise a centre for the manufacture of an immense amount of enamelled jewellery. This industry, carried on with considerable activity owing to the influence of the Archduke Ferdinand of Tirol (1520-1595), brother of Maximilian II, was most flourishing in the time of the Emperor Rudolph II (1552-1612), King of Hungary and Bohemia, under whose patronage several remarkable specimens of German goldsmiths work now at Vienna were executed, such as the Austrian Imperial Crown, made in the year 1602. The epoch of about forty years that terminated at the death of Rudolph II in 1612, and known as the Rudolphine period, witnessed the production, mainly in Southern Germany, of the greater part of the enamelled jewellery now extant. Renaissance jewellery, as we speak of it, may be said to have almost ceased after that period, at a date which coincided with the outbreak of the Thirty Years’ War in Germany, and the Civil War in England. Its proximity to Italy rendered Augsburg more quickly subject to the influence of the Italian style than Nuremberg and Munich, though by the middle of the sixteenth century the whole of Southern Germany followed the style of decoration of the Italian masters so thoroughly, that it is difficult to assign a large proportion of the ornaments of the period to either nation, since the distinguishing feature of the hall-mark finds no place on jewellery, as on other objects in the precious metals. It is true that the extraordinary development of cartouche and strap ornament on German work, as on that of the Netherlands, serves in many cases to distinguish it from the Italian, yet there is sufficient similarity in details of ornamentation, in masks and figures, as well as in the method of enamelwork and the setting of gems, to account for the divergence of opinion that exists as to the provenance of all the jewels of the period. Such is the glamour that surrounds Italian art, that it has been the custom to assign every fine jewel of the Renaissance to Italy but a careful examination of existing examples has left us convinced that by far the greater number of them are not Italian, but of German origin, and belong to the second half of the sixteenth century and the early years of the seventeenth. Portraits, alone, by such German painters as Wolgemut, Strigel, Burgkmair, Altdorfer, Hans Baldung Grien, Lucas Cranach, and Bartholomäus Bruyn, show that by the very commencement of the sixteenth century the wealth of the merchant princes of Southern Germany resulted in an even greater display of jewellery than was indulged in by the Italians. Various other considerations contribute to this conviction. First and foremost is the question of the designs from which the jewellers drew their ideas. A certain number of original drawings for jewellery by German artists exist. Of these there are examples of the work of the two greatest, namely, Dürer (1471-1528) and Holbein (1497-1543). To Holbein’s drawings, which were executed in England, detailed reference is made in a later chapter. In his designs for jewellery, as in all else, Dürer, the son of a goldsmith and descended from one on his mother’s side, maintains a high standard of excellence. His drawings (as catalogued by Lippmann) include the following: (1) In the Kunsthalle, Bremen. Three sketches for pendent whistles, where the sound-producing part is formed of a ball with a hole in it, into which the air is carried by a pipe. In two cases the ball is held in the mouth of a lion, and in the third in the beak of a cock. The animals stand each on a curved pipe, and have a ring above for suspension (L. 124). (2) In the British Museum. Two sketches for ring shaped pendants—apparently whistles (Pl. XXVI, 1). In both cases is air blown from a mouthpiece half-way round the ring into a ball held in an animal’s mouth (L. 252). (3) In the possession of Herr von Feder, Karlsruhe. Four designs for brooches and clasps, Two of richly ornamented (L. 433-435, and 437). these sketches (L. 433 and 437) and several others (the whereabouts of the originals of which is not known) were etched by Wenzel Hollar in the seventeenth century, and are enumerated in Parthey’s catalogue of Hollar’s works. The etchings after the two known originals are numbered 2565 and 2561. The other jewels etched by Hollar from Dürer’s designs are the following: (1) A pendant in the form of St. George and the Dragon within a laurel wreath, with a ring above and below (P. 165). (2) A girdle-end formed of two dolphins with a chain attached (P. 2559). (3) A buckle and buckleplate—the buckle formed of two dolphins, the plate ornamented with two cornucopiae (P. 2560). (4) A round scent-case or pomander (P. 2567). In addition are miscellaneous designs for ornaments, erroneously considered to be patterns for embroidery (P. 2562-3-4 and 2566). A charming representation of a pendent jewel is seen in Dürer’s woodcut of the Emperor Maximilian’s Triumphal Arch suspended from the Imperial Crown held by the figure of Genius. Following Dürer there appeared a number of goldsmiths who, with the spread of the new style over Europe, were prepared to perform the task of remodelling personal ornaments in accordance with the taste of the day. The most ingenious of them, together with some artists of distinction, engraved with great fertility of imagination, for those who were not capable of design, patterns for goldsmith’s work and jewellery. A large demand was made on the productive faculties of these engravers, who included among their ranks not only the best artists, termed from the usual small size of their productions “the little masters,” but many other designers of goldsmith’s ornament; and from their works, multiplied by means of engraving, the numerous craftsmen who worked in gold, enamel, and precious stones, drew their subjects and ideas. On the question of the production of jewellery from such engraved designs, it is interesting to note the several points of similarity that exist in the procedure of the ornamentists of the sixteenth century and that of the English furniture-designers of the eighteenth. In both cases the original producers of the designs were practical craftsmen, who certainly executed objects after their published patterns; while the patterns themselves were employed extensively as models. In both cases, too, it is quite evident that in a number of instances fanciful designs were produced which were never carried out. Hence one can readily understand the difficulties that are encountered in attempting to determine the provenance of such small and portable objects as personal jewels, the engraved designs for which were in like manner widely distributed. But there is the strong probability, after all, that the greater number of jewels, after engraved designs of German origin, were executed in, or not very far distant from the locality in which the designs originated. If designs are considered insufficient for the identification of jewels, there exists a means much more certain, and one which should surely prevent the attribution to Italians of jewels unquestionably the work of German craftsmen. It may be remembered that Cellini in his Trattati, in dealing with the goldsmith’s art, advised jewellers to preserve castings in lead of their works in gold and silver. In many cases Cellini’s recommendation has been literally carried out, and a considerable number of proofs struck by German jewellers of details of their jewels have fortunately come down to us. The Bavarian National Museum at Munich contains a highly important collection of these leaden casts, being a complete series used by a family of gold and silver workers in Augsburg for upwards of 250 years (from about 1550 to 1800). The jewellers of Augsburg were among the first in Europe, and these models of their productions, bearing strong traces of the influence of contemporary ornamentists, correspond in many details with original jewels dating from those times. Examples of these lead models for jewellery exist in other collections, such as the Historical Museum at Basle. Of the same material, but of infinitely higher artistic importance, are the lead models by the hand of Peter Flötner of Nuremberg. In addition to engraved designs, Flötner executed models for goldsmiths, carved in stone and boxwood. From these—of which original examples have survived—casts (so-called plaquettes) were made in lead, which were used as patterns for craftsmen in the same manner as engravings of ornament. Flötner’s models, though issued mainly for workers in gold and silver plate, were employed also by the jewellers, and exercised considerable influence on their productions. Few engraved designs for jewellery are prior in date to the year 1550, though nearly all the prominent painter engravers delighted in exercising their inventive faculty in this direction. One or two plates of pendants by Brosamer, and a buckle and whistle by Aldegrever, represent almost the sole engravings of the kind before Virgil Solis—the first to devise a more ambitious series of jewels. Amongst the earliest is the Kunstbüchlein124 or pattern book for goldsmith’s work, by Hans Brosamer (about 1480-1554). These woodcuts, which are singularly attractive, are of a transitional character, with traces of Gothic design. They include two pages of pendants composed of stones between leafwork grouped round a central ornament and hung with pear-shaped pearls. One pendant consists of a niche between pillars—a similar style of ornament to that adopted by Androuet Ducerceau, and the first assignable instance, says Herr Lichtwark,125 of the use of architecture in German jewellery of this time, though this same motive was frequently represented later on by Erasmus Hornick and Mignot. Three other pendants are in the form of whistles for wearing on the neck-chain. In an engraving for a whistle of a similar kind by Aldegrever (1502-1558), the lower part is formed of a case containing an earpick and a knife for the finger-nails. Except for this design (which finds a place in the background of his engraving of the pair of folding pocket-spoons of the year 1539), Aldegrever’s only example of jewellery is the remarkable Gothic girdle-buckle with its buckle-plate and tag (dated 1537). The characteristic fig-leaf ornament of the early German Renaissance is better represented here than on any other engraving of the period. More modern in style is Mathias Zundt (1498-1586), whose compositions (dated 1551-1554) are carried out with great fineness. Zundt lived at Nuremberg; his great contemporaries, Virgil Solis and Erasmus Hornick being natives of the same city. It was to Virgil Solis (1514-1562), one of the most skilful and prolific of the German Klein-Meister, that the jewellers and other craftsmen of the day owed their finest inspirations. Virgil Solis’s beautiful series of pendants are executed with great charm and delicacy. They bear the character of a transition from the graceful foliage of the early to the full Renaissance, with its fanciful architectural forms, its scroll ornament, arabesques, animals, and grotesque human masks and figures (Pl. XXVII, 1, 2). Erasmus Hornick likewise exercised a potent influence on the jewellery of the time. He engraved in 1562 a series of pendants, chains, and other jewels of the most delicate execution (Pl. XXVII, 4-6). The pendants in form of an architectural niche with the subject placed in the centre, are the prototype of all the jewels of this kind which we meet with subsequently in the prints of the Flemish engraver Collaert. While many important engravings were being issued for the benefit of the jewellers of Nuremberg, a great quantity of jewellery was produced at Munich under the patronage of the Dukes of Bavaria. Duke Albert V had as court painter a skilful miniaturist, Hans Mielich (1516-1573), whom he employed to paint in the form of an inventory exact copies in miniature of his jewels and those of his wife, Anne of Austria, preserved in his treasury. In addition to these drawings, now in the Royal Library at Munich, are a number of others, which came into the possession of Dr. von HefnerAlteneck, and on his death in 1904 were purchased for the sum of £2,500 for the Bavarian National Museum.126 Though the majority of these drawings for jewellery, in themselves works of extraordinary beauty, were copies of objects then already in existence, the presence of jewels similar to Mielich’s designs leads to the supposition that this artist exercised a strong influence on the jewellers of his day, and that a number of jewels were also executed at the command of the Duke from original sketches of his. None of the actual objects depicted by Mielich have survived, save a large gold chain set with pearls, rubies, and emeralds, which corresponds, particularly in its rich enamel-work, to one of the drawings lately added to the National Museum. This chain is known as the collar of the Order of St. George. The size and quality of its stones and the great beauty of the enamelled settings render it, without doubt, the finest article of its kind in existence. It is preserved in the Royal Treasury (Schatzkammer) at Munich, together with a number of other objects of the same type. The last decades of the sixteenth century saw the appearance of a new species of ornamental design, whose chief advocate, Theodor de Bry (1528-1598), of Liège, with his sons Johann Theodor and Johann Israel, settled in Frankfort-on-the-Main about 1560. It is a rich and varied surface decoration, often of white upon a black ground, composed of scroll ornament richly set with flowers, fruit, grotesques, and figures of animals, the whole being charmingly designed, and engraved with great brilliancy of touch. In addition to his more famous knife-handles, de Bry executed several engravings for clasps, buckles, and metal attachments to girdles. For the counterpart of the artistic style of de Bry one must look to the Low Countries and particularly to the work of the engraver Hans Collaert (1540-1622), of Antwerp, who developed remarkable fertility in the production of patterns for jewellery. Collaert’s designs require special attention, because of the tendency, elaborated largely by him and other engravers of the school of Antwerp, towards exuberant cartouche ornaments with a mixture of extravagant and loosely arranged strapwork, and stud- or boss-work. This style, full of grotesques and arabesques, pervaded the work of every craftsman of the day, and dealt a final blow to any further development of pure Renaissance ornament. Collaert’s chief series of pendants, eleven in number, published in 1581 under the title Monilium bullarum inauriumque artificiosissima icones, are probably the best known of all designs for jewellery of this epoch. One of these engravings, in particular, has been several times reproduced. It is a large pendant hung from a cartouche and surmounted by a figure of Orpheus with a lyre, with two seated female figures. The rest of the jewel is made up of scroll ornaments and bracket-shaped terminal figures, and is hung with three drop pearls. This pendant is of peculiar interest in connection with its bearing on what has already been said with regard to the attributions given to Cinquecento jewellery. Two striking instances of misapplied attributions of this kind may be quoted. In one127 work the engraving in question is described as: “ Pendant par Benvenuto Cellini (Musée de Florence)”; and in another128 as: “Gehänge in der Bibliothèque nationale zu Paris nach seinem [Cellini’s] Model gearbeitet!” It has been usual—while acknowledging the great influence of these engravings on the jewellery of the time—to doubt whether jewels exist which have been executed in exact imitation of them. To show that such designs were actually followed, we may point to a jewel figured by Herr Luthmer in his catalogue of Baron Karl von Rothschild’s collection at Frankforton-the-Main, which follows in every detail the particular engraving by Collaert just mentioned as having been ascribed to Cellini. Collaert’s influence was considerable in his day, and his compositions circulated not only in Flanders, but also in Germany and other prominent jewel-producing centres. Jewels are repeatedly met with, which, though they do not follow in every detail Collaert’s published designs, are obviously inspired by them. A very notable example of such is a jewel, to be referred to subsequently (p. 247), in form of a gondola containing figures of Antony and Cleopatra, which was sold by auction in London for a very large sum a year or two ago. With Collaert were several minor designers of jewellery, such as Abraham de Bruyn (1538-after 1600), among whose engravings are seventeen models for pendants and portions of jewels in the style of the admirable French jeweller-engraver Etienne Delaune. Other Dutch and Flemish engravers of ornament belong more to the seventeenth century, and will be dealt with later. At the furthest corner of Germany from Flanders was the ancient kingdom of Hungary, where jewellery was employed in almost Oriental profusion. The native costume is luxurious even at the present day, and in olden times the nobility made a practice of attaching to it a great part of their fortunes in the form of precious stones, which, in enamelled settings of button-shape, termed “boglars,” were sewn on, or were mounted in aigrettes, or set in girdles or dagger-sheaths. Independent jewels enriched with enamel-work in the Renaissance taste were produced, too, in considerable quantity. Fine examples of the latter are preserved in the museum at Buda-Pesth; while to the exhibition held there in 1884 Cinquecento jewellery of great beauty and wealth was lent by noble Hungarian families. All these display striking similarity to the jewels executed at Augsburg, Prague, and elsewhere in the latter part of the sixteenth and the early years of the seventeenth century. In addition to those which betray the influence of foreign styles, there are jewels of native work, whose surface is enriched with the so-called Draht-Email. This “filigree-enamel,” which was executed from the fifteenth to the seventeenth century in Hungary and throughout the valley of the Danube, is composed of bright opaque colours fired between cloisons or partitions composed of twisted wire.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY
FRANCE—SPAIN
The campaigns of Charles VIII and Louis XII in Italy, and the patronage of Italian artists by Cardinal d’Amboise, brought a knowledge of Renaissance art into France. France was the first nation to adopt the style of ornament to which Italy had given birth, and at the very outset of the sixteenth century Italian influence made itself felt. From the reign of Francis I to that of Charles IX French jewellery was closely modelled on the Italian, while many Italian jewellers took up their abode in France, and among them Cellini, who resided in Paris from 1540 to 1545 Not since the days of Charles V had France witnessed such profusion of jewellery as was indulged in by the splendour-loving Francis I, who exceeded even Henry VIII and Pope Paul III—two other great collectors of the day—in gathering together jewels and precious stones. We hear much of the jewellery of the day from Rabelais, who speaks of the rosaries, girdleornaments, rings, gold chains, jewelled necklaces, and of the various kinds of precious stones worn both in articles of jewellery and scattered in profusion over the dress. An incident of considerable interest is recorded to have taken place in the time of Francis I in connection with a supposed abuse of enamel on the part of the jewellers. The king’s attention was drawn to the fact that when jewellery enamelled with opaque enamels, which were considered to weigh heavier than the clear ones, came to be realised, the enamel was so much pure loss. So, in spite of a protest by some of the leading goldsmiths, who declared that the proper execution of the majority of articles of jewellery was impossible without opaque enamel, an ordinance was passed in 1540 forbidding its use. After three years, however, the king relented, and again permitted the jewellers the full exercise of the resources of their art, provided there was no superfluous excess in the use of enamel. Under the last Valois kings, Charles IX and Henry I11, the production of jewellery in France, as elsewhere, was greater than at almost any other period. Vivid descriptions of the rich jewellery of this time are furnished by the chronicler Brantôme. Actual articles of French Renaissance jewellery are, it must be confessed, of great rarity. Almost the only extant specimens are the wonderful mounted cameos in the Cabinet des Médailles of the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, the majority of which are presumably of French origin. From comparison of these with contemporary designs, the distinguishing features of the French jewellery of the time appear to be—a cartouche-shaped frame with comparatively unbroken outline, enriched with scroll ornament and occasionally with human figures and grotesques, a slight use of openwork, and the general employment of a central ornament. Like the Germans, the French had excellent masters, who engraved models for jewellery of great beauty of design. The following are the chief maîtres ornemanistes who flourished in the sixteenth century:Jean Duvet, known also as the Master of the Unicorn, born at Langres in 1485 and died about 1562, was goldsmith to Francis I and Henry II. His designs for small objects of personal use in the form of scrolls, flowers, and foliage, intended for execution in enamel, are among the earliest engravings in taille-douce produced for the purpose. Jacques Androuet Ducerceau (about 1510-about 1585) worked chiefly at Orleans. His numerous engravings in the form of cartouches with rolled and voluted frames show the type of design mainly employed for pendants. His actual models for jewellery, numbering upwards of fifty, comprise clasps and brooches, and many pendants, including earrings pp. 241 and 269). After Androuet Ducerceau, the most famous jeweller of this time was Etienne Delaune, called Stephanus (1518-1595). He is said to have worked under Cellini during the latter’s residence in Paris. In 1573 he moved to Strasburg, where the greater part of his work was produced. A “little master” par excellence, he engraved with extraordinary delicacy a number of exquisite designs for jewellery. Two of his engravings of slightly different design, both dated 1576, represent the interior of goldsmiths workshops, and are of particular interest in illustrating the practice of the goldsmith’s art and the equipment of the workshop at this period. Designs for jewellery are the most interesting of the engravings of René Boyvin (1530-1598), of Angers. He appears to have been influenced by the Italian artists of Fontainebleau, and his plates of jewel-ornament, engraved with great skill in the style of Il Rosso, show considerable ingenuity and fancy in the combination of faceted stones and large pearls with human and fantastic figures. More influential perhaps than any of the designs of the time are those of Pierre Woeiriot of Lorraine, who was born in 1532 and died after 1589. In 1555 Woeiriot settled at Lyons, where he produced a large number of engravings for jewellery. These, showing the greatest variety of design, include numerous patterns for rings, a dozen earrings, and ten pendent ornaments (Pl. XXVII, 3). These masterpieces of engraving and composition were published at Lyons in 1555 and 1561. Spain occupies a peculiar place with respect to its Renaissance jewellery. In the sixteenth century the Spanish Peninsula was perhaps the richest part of the civilised world. Even at a time when universal luxury in personal ornaments reigned, Spain made itself an object of note by its extraordinary display in this direction. The union under the same dominion of three of the most powerful countries of Europe coincident with the newly developed wealth of America resulted in a desire among all classes for a more luxurious style of living and for more sumptuous ornaments. The natural instinct of wealthy and cultured individuals to surround themselves with the choicest productions of the fine arts led to the importation of the best of such objects from other countries and of the first foreign craftsmen of the day. Juan de Arphe, “the Spanish Cellini,” himself of German extraction, devoted much attention to the naturalisation of Renaissance forms. Other jewellers also remained in so large a measure dependent on foreign influence, at first of Italian types, and then of the designs of French, German, and Flemish engravers of ornament, that it is often hard to arrive at a decision as to the precise provenance of their productions. But just as other works of art, the product of different countries, are stamped with certain indefinable characteristics, which in general circumstances may at once be detected, so jewels of Spanish origin betray the influence of national temperament in their composition and design. The series of drawings by Barcelona jewellers published by Davillier in his Recherches sur l’Orfèvrerie en Espagne, bear sufficient evidence of this native spirit. Nevertheless, the majority of the surviving examples of the Renaissance jewellery of Spain approach at times very near to those of Germany. And there can be little doubt that the Nuremberg and Augsburg jewels which, as has been shown, were in vogue not only all over Germany, but in France and England and the Low Countries, were imported and imitated, as Davillier says, by the goldsmiths of Spain. The most important Spanish jewels of the sixteenth century are in the form of enamelled pendants. Of these the Victoria and Albert Museum possesses a collection, excelled by that of no other public museum, which was acquired at the sale in 1870 of the treasures of the sanctuary of the Virgen del Pilar at Saragossa. A species of pendant which in Spain above all places has always been popular was the reliquary. It assumed numerous shapes; and among the many kinds of adornment it received were small panels of painted glass commonly known as verres églomisés. This so-called verre églomisé, which had been handed down from antiquity and was used in the Middle Ages, was brought to high perfection at the Renaissance. Adopted from Italy, where it was also employed for jewellery, it met with considerable favour in Spain in the sixteenth century (Pl. XLIII, 4). The process employed in its production consisted in covering the under side of a plate of glass or rock crystal with gold leaf. On this were traced the outlines of the design intended to be reserved in gold, and the remainder of the gold was then removed. In the painting which followed, the finest details, the high lights, the shadows and flesh tints were first executed. Then came in successive applications, transparent varnishes of different colours and thicknesses, in accordance with the value of the tones desired. Small pieces of silver leaf were applied to certain parts to reflect the light and heighten the effect; and the whole was finally backed with a sheet of metal.129 Verre églomisé appears to take its name from one Glomy, a French craftsman of the eighteenth century, who produced a special black and gold varnish which he applied to the back of glass. In a similar way his countrymen the Martins gave their name to the varnish of their invention. Verre églomisé, a somewhat unsatisfactory title, which came first into use in the latter part of the century, and was wrongly applied to paintings under glass of a similar order, has been retained ever since. A peculiar and characteristic species of pendent ornament, numbers of which were produced in the seventeenth century chiefly at Barcelona, are certain badges worn by members of religious corporations, They are of open-worked gilt brass enriched with white. black, and blue opaque enamels fused into recesses stamped in the surface of the metal. These badges, which are either triangular, oval, square, or oblong in shape, are formed of two parts—a frame surrounded with rayed patterns, and a central portion ornamented with various designs (Pl. LIII, 5). Among the latter designs are crowned monograms of Christ or the Virgin, with emblems such as palm leaves, and the device of a nail and the letter S interlaced—a rebus for “Esclavo.” Fitted in the back is usually a miniature under crystal. In point of technique these enamelled badges offer an interesting comparison with the well-known English enamels of the same date applied mainly to objects such as candlesticks and fire-dogs. Pendent badges of the same designs exist in gold. The collection of Senor de Osma at Madrid contains several examples. To the seventeenth century belong also the characteristic “lazos” or bow-shaped jewels worn as breastornaments, made of openwork gold set with emeralds. and occasionally with other stones (Pl. LIII, 1). Of the same style are rings, also set with emeralds, and particularly long earrings, which have always been popular in Spain. The backs of these jewels are engraved with floral designs. The greater part of the Spanish jewellery of the time is set with emeralds, which were acquired in quantities from Peru. Spain has always had a great reputation for these stones, which when of fine quality are still alluded to as old Spanish emeralds. Emeralds are always subject to flaws and rarely free from them. The emeralds set in Spanish jewellery, though usually full of feathers, are nevertheless of great decorative value. Further reference will be made to Spanish work of the seventeenth century when the jewels of that period are dealt with. The earlier Hispano-Moresque jewellery is of considerable rarity. It is often enriched with opaque enamel fired between cloisons formed of twisted wire. From the union of Moorish and Renaissance forms developed the Spanish peasant jewellery, usually fashioned of stout silver filigree parcel-gilt.
CHAPTER XXIV
ENGLAND, SIXTEENTH CENTURY
(HENRY VIII—ELIZABETH—MARY STUART)
With the accession of Henry VIII a new period opens in the history of the jeweller’s art. The spirit of the revival, which had previously affected only the Court, began to spread rapidly throughout the community, under the influence of the example set by the great jewellers of Italy. The King inherited an enormous treasury, and the display of jewellery on his own person and on that of his Court was prodigious. We are indebted to the Venetian ambassador, Giustinian, for the following graphic description of the King’s personal adornment a year or two after his accession: “He wore a cap of crimson velvet, in the French fashion, and the brim was looped up all round with lacets and gold enamelled tags. . . . Very close round his neck he had a gold collar, from which there hung a rough-cut diamond, the size of the largest walnut I ever saw, and to this was suspended a most beautiful and very large round pearl. His mantle was of purple velvet lined with white satin, the sleeves open, with a This train more than four Venetian yards long. mantle was girt in front like a gown, with a thick gold cord, from which there hung large golden acorns like those suspended from a cardinal’s hat; over this mantle was a very handsome gold collar, with a pendent St. George entirely of diamonds. Beneath the mantle he wore a pouch of cloth of gold, which covered a dagger; and his fingers were one mass of jewelled rings.”130 Many a lively and detailed picture has been left us by the chronicler and lawyer, Edward Hall, of the equipage and adornment of Henry VIII on his coronation and at the court entertainments, and particularly of the famous meeting of the Cloth of Gold, where, in their insane desire to outshine each other, the English and French nobles entered into boundless extravagance in dress, and so loaded themselves with jewellery, that, in the words of Du Bellay, “they carried the price of woodland, water-mill, and pasture on their backs.” Many are the elaborate descriptions of entertainments and pageants by the chroniclers Leland, Holinshed, and Stowe, in which rich jewellery figures; but Hall’s Chronicle, the most minute in its accounts of contemporary fashions, teems with references to “Gold Smithe’s woorke” and to the wealth of precious stones broidered on the garments. The passion for personal ornaments ran such riot that even foreign critics inveighed against Englishmen for their extravagance. This love of jewellery was largely due to foreign fashions, which, hitherto discountenanced, were growing popular at Court, in consequence of the increasing communication with the Continent. From the commencement of Henry’s reign merchants and craftsmen from abroad swarmed in numbers into London, and Hall, who shared the characteristic English antipathy to all things foreign, gives an instance of an invasion by these alien artificers. It was on the occasion of a magnificent embassy from France in 1518 in connection with the betrothal of the Princess Mary to the Dauphin that there came, he says, “a great number of rascals and pedlars and jewellers, and brought over divers merchantize uncustomed, all under the color of trussery [baggage] of the ambassadors.” In accordance with the system of his predecessors in pursuit of their own personal interests, Henry VIII extended his protection to the foreigner, while the example of the French Court, the rivalry with Francis I, and the foreign proclivities of Wolsey and Cromwell induced him to patronise extensively foreign jewellers and merchants in precious stones. Occasionally Henry was a sufferer in his transactions with sharp Italian dealers; and Cellini relates a story of how a Milanese jeweller counterfeited an emerald so cleverly that he managed to palm off the same for a genuine stone on the sovereign of “those beasts of Englishmen,” as he elsewhere terms them, for 9000 golden scudi. And all this happened, because the purchaser—who was no less a person than the King of England—put rather more faith in the jeweller than he ought to have done. The fraud was not found out till several years after. A considerable number of the foreign craftsmen patronised by the King were Italians; but in jewellery the French influence seems to have predominated—judging by the frequent mention of jewels of “Paris work,” and by the fact that the majority of the jewellers mentioned in the “King’s Book of Payments,”131 bear French names. Among those of foreign extraction the following were the most prominent: Robert Amadas, John Cryspyn, Allart Ploumyer, Jehan Lange, Cornelius Hays, Baptist Leman, John Cavalcant, John Baptista de Consolavera, Guillim Honyson, Alexander of Brussels, John of Utrecht, and John (Hans) of Antwerp. The mention, however, of such names as John Angell, Morgan Fenwolf (a Welshman), John Freeman, John Twiselton, Thomas Exmewe, Nicolas Worley, John Monday, and William Davy indicates the English nationality of several of the royal jewellers—though it is well to remember the common tendency of the time to Anglicise foreign names. Throughout the first half of his reign Henry placed huge orders in the hands of these craftsmen, but advancing years and an exhausted treasury appear to have somewhat diminished his expenditure on personal ornaments. Some interesting correspondence between the above-mentioned Jehan Lange, a jeweller of Paris, and certain of his native townsmen has been preserved.132 “The King,” he writes in 1537 , referring to certain jewelled garments he had submitted to His Majesty, “was very glad to see such riches. He said he was too old to wear such things, but he has offered 4000 cr.” To Allart Ploumyer he writes: “The King always makes good cheer, but he has grown cold, and we have not quite sold everything; for the gentlemen have spent their money in the war.” “I find the King,” he says in another place, “disinclined to buy, for he has told me he has no more money, and it has cost him a great deal to make war.” In spite of Lange’s complaints, it was only just before his death that Henry VIII acquired a famous and magnificent historical jewel, the great pendant of Charles the Bold, last Duke of Burgundy.133 In its centre was set the wonderful diamond—a deep pyramid five-eighths of an inch square at the base—believed to be the first on which Louis de Berghem tried his newly invented method of cutting. Around it were set three balas rubies, styled from their equality in size and weight the “Three Brothers,” which, owing to their fine quality, were set open, without the foil with which stones were then usually backed. Between these were four enormous pearls (Pl. XXV, 3). According to the universal custom of his day, the Duke, accompanied by all his treasure when campaigning, carried this jewel with him, partly to have it constantly under his personal supervision, and partly because of the magic properties then attributed to precious stones. Captured by a common soldier from his tent after his memorable defeat at the battle of Granson in 1475, the pendant came into the possession of the magistrates of Berne, and from them was purchased by Jacob Fugger, of the opulent merchant family of Augsburg, whose son, after keeping it for several years, disposed of it to Henry VIII. Fifty years later the jewel was still intact, and in James l’s inventory of the crown jewels in 1603, it is thus described:134 A fayre Flower,135 with three greate ballaces, in the myddest a gréate pointed dyamonde, and three greate perles fixed, with a fayre The greate perle pendaunte, called the Brethren. last we hear of this famous jewel is in 1623, when it is described in the same words in the list of jewels removed from the Tower by James I, and handed over to his jeweller Heriot to be refashioned for the use of Charles and Buckingham on their visit to Spain. That it was then remounted is evident from the King’s letter to his son, in which he says: “I send for your wearing the Three Brethren, that you knowe full well, but newlie sette.” About the year 1536 the great painter Hans Holbein, who had come to England several years previously, entered into the service of Henry VIII, and it was between that date and his death in 1543 that he executed those masterpieces of design for jewellery which will ever stand as a landmark in the history of the subject. There is no evidence to show that Holbein himself worked in the precious metals. But brought up under similar influences as had moulded the great Italian artists of the Renaissance, Ghiberti, Pollaiuolo, Verrocchio, Francia, and Ghirlandaio, who combined the arts of painting, architecture, and sculpture with the jeweller’s craft, he had been well grounded in the limitations of his materials, and knew how far the draughtsman could display his skill in this direction. The most important of Holbein’s designs for jewellery are preserved in the British Museum, to which they were bequeathed by Sir Hans Sloane in 1753. The collection, originally mounted in a quarto volume, termed Holbein’s London Sketch-book, is now remounted and systematically arranged. The designs, comprising 179 separate items, are for the most part drawn with a pen with black ink, and then some slight touches of brown put in for the shadows. Several of the designs have the ground blackened, the ornaments being left in white. Some of the jewels, entirely coloured and often touched up with gold, are designed for enamelling in high relief; some are perhaps designed for execution in niello, though it is not improbable that these were intended to be ornamented with black champlevé enamel. The most attractive are the patterns for jewels enriched with precious stones and enamels, the majority of which were for neck pendants intended to hang from a chain, ribbon, or silken cord, itself sometimes shown in the drawing (Pl. XXVI). The design of a few of these pendants is based upon the prevailing custom of wearing initials of the name either in embroidery or in pure gold attached to the garments. Some curious instances of this fashion are recorded by Hall, particularly in his graphic account of what took place at a masque given by Henry VIII at his palace at Westminster. Upon the King’s invitation to divide the rich garments of the maskers sewn with letters of “fine and massy gold in bullyon as thicke as they might be,” which generally went as largess to the ladies, a rabble of citizens, who were allowed to look on, broke in, and “ranne to the Kyng, and stripped hym into his hosen and dublet, and all his compaignions in like wise. Syr Thomas Knevet stode on a stage, and for all his defence he lost his apparell. The ladies likewyse were spoyled, wherfore the Kynges garde came sodenly, and put the people backe, or els it was supposed more inconvenience had ensued.” So pure was the gold of which these letters were composed that it is recorded subsequently that a “shipeman of London who caught certayn letters sould them to a goldsmyth for £3. 14. 8”—quite a considerable sum in those days. In the same way jewelled initials were also fre quently worn in the form of pendants, and a jewelled B can be seen hanging from the neck of Anne Boleyn in her portrait in the National Portrait Gallery. Holbein’s drawings contain several beautiful instances of this type of design, generally completed with three pendent pearis. One of them has a monogram of the initials R and E in chased and engraved gold set at the four corners with two rubies, an emerald, and a diamond. Another has the letters H and I (probably for Henry and Jane Seymour) with an emerald in the centre; and a somewhat similar jewel, formed of the sacred monogram, is worn by Jane Seymour in her portrait by Holbein at Vienna. The designs for the larger pendants, mostly circular or lozenge-shaped, are set with sapphires, diamonds, rubies, and pearls, and terminate with large pear-shaped pearls. The spaces between the stones are filled with chased or enamelled arrangements of scroll or leaf work. The smaller jewels, which might also have been worn as enseignes or badges on the hat, or as brooches, are of open goldwork with leaf or ribbon ornament set with stones and pearls. They include a very beautiful design of a half-length figure of a lady in the costume of the period holding between her hands a large stone, upon which is the inscription WELL LAYDI WELL (Pl. XXVI, 9). The fifteenth-century traditions seem to have influenced Holbein in the design of this jewel, which at once calls to mind the Flemish-Burgundian brooches (an example of which, in the British Museum, has already been mentioned) ornamented with similar figures, full-faced, and holding a large stone before them. The jewels actually executed from these designs were probably the work of Hans of Antwerp, known as John Anwarpe.136 He was a friend of Holbein, and one of the witnesses of his will; and his portrait, painted by Holbein, is now at Windsor. Hans of Antwerp appears to have settled in London about 1514, having perhaps been induced to do so by Thomas Cromwell, who in early life resided for a time in Antwerp as secretary to the English merchants there. It was presumably Cromwell who, as “Master of the King’s Jewel House,” was instrumental in procuring for him the post of the King’s goldsmith. His name occurs several times in Cromwell’s accounts, and it was in accordance with the latter’s ryght hartye commendations that he obtained the freedom of the Goldsmiths’ Company of London. The chief duty of the King’s goldsmith was to supply the New Year’s gifts (estrennes), so popular at that time. These usually took the form of personal ornaments, and it seems likely that Holbeins famous sketches were specially designed for this purpose.
ELIZABETH—MARY STUART
However remarkable the Court of Henry VIII was for its profusion of jewellery, that of Queen Elizabeth, who inherited the Tudor love for display, was still more extravagant. Throughout her reign—a period marked also upon the Continent for its prolific production of jewellery—the fashion set by the jewel-loving Queen for a superabundance of finery maintained its sway. The country suddenly becoming wealthy, was tempted, like one not born to riches, to use the whole in outward show, and this display was rendered comparatively easy by the influx of gold and precious stones after the Spanish conquests in America. Numerous portraits of courtiers and court ladies afford ample evidence of the prevailing fashions in jewellery, while the portraits of the Queen herself, all overburdened with ornaments, are too well known to need detailed description.137 “There is not a single portrait of her,” says Walpole, “that one can call beautiful. The profusion of ornaments with which they are loaded are marks of her continual fondness for dress, while they entirely exclude all grace, and leave no more room for a painter’s genius than if he had been employed to copy an Indian idol, totally composed of hands and necklaces. A pale Roman nose, a head of hair loaded with crowns and powdered with diamonds, a vast ruff, a vaster fardingale, a bushel of pearls, are features by which every body knows at once the pictures of Queen Elizabeth.” An excellent description of the jewellery of Elizabeth towards the close of her brilliant reign is given by Paul Hentzner, who visited England in 1598: “The Queen had in her ears two pearls with very rich drops; she wore false hair and that red; upon her head she had a small crown; her bosom was uncovered, and she had on a necklace of exceedingly fine jewels. She was dressed in white silk, bordered with pearls of the size of beans, and over it a mantle of black silk shot with silver threads; her train was very long. Instead of a chain, she had an oblong collar of gold and jewels.” To a courtier who knelt to her, “after pulling off her glove, she gave her right hand to kiss, sparkling with rings and jewels.” The best of all representations of that “bright occidental Star” is her faded waxwork effigy, still to be seen in Westminster Abbey—no other than the one which on the 28th of April, 1603, was carried on her coffin to the Abbey. It shows the veritable passion Elizabeth possessed for pearls. Her stomacher is encrusted with large Roman pearls, while strings of pearls hang round her throat and neck. Her earrings are circular pearl and ruby medallions, with huge pear-shaped pearl pendants. Full of detail are the records of costly, juelles that have come down to us, particularly in the list, preserved in the British Museum,138 of the New Year’s gifts presented to the Queen, from the fourteenth to the thirty-sixth year of her reign. The practice of exchanging presents on New Year’s Day attained extraordinary proportions at the Court of Elizabeth, and was supplemented by birthday presents, which, as Her Majesty’s weakness for jewellery was well known, took for the most part the form of personal ornaments of every kind. The very accurate accounts that were kept by the officers of the Queen’s wardrobe of every item in her enormous store of jewellery is witnessed by a number of curious entries in her wardrobe-book of losses of jewellery sustained by Her Majesty.139 In addition to numerous inventories and wills full of information concerning the jewellery of the period, we have at our service, as in Roman times, the works of social satirists, such as The Anatomie of Abuses, by Philip Stubbes (1583), and Bishop Hall’s poetical satires of 1597, to which we are indebted for many valuable details. In accepting these it is well to bear in mind the common tendency of every age to ridicule its own fashions; yet, in spite of Puritan narrowness, and the exaggerated indignation of the satirist, it is manifest that extraordinary luxury and extravagance in dress and jewellery were prevalent not only at Court, but among all classes of the community. Of greater importance, however, than the information to be gleaned from pictorial and literary sources is that derived from the actual jewels themselves, a considerable number of which, through all the changes and chances of more than three centuries, have been handed down still practically intact, and retaining the chief feature of their decoration—their exquisite enamel. Shakespeare, while appreciating the charm of its harmonious combination of colours, recognised, it appears, the delicacy of this beautiful medium, when in the Comedy of Errors he makes Adriana say: I see the jewel best enamelled Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still, That others touch, and often touching will Wear gold. The New Learning, which made itself felt in England during the reign of Henry VII, began at this time to exercise a direct influence on the choice of the designs of jewels and on the arrangement of their ornamentation. As witnesses of the intellectual revival, they often took emblematic forms, bearing in exquisite enamelwork fancy mottoes and devices, generally obscure in their interpretation, and intended to express the sentiments of their wearers, or those of donors, regarding the presumed state of mind of their recipients. The passion for these reached its height in the golden days of Good Queen Bess, when it became the fashion for the bejewelled gallants who fluttered like a swarm of glittering insects around her to display their wit and ingenuity in devising jewelled emblems as fit presents to the Virgin Queen. Thus in the list of costly articles of jewellery offered to Elizabeth, we meet with the present, made in Christmas week 1581, by some courtiers disguised as maskers, of a jewel in the form of a flower of golde, garnished with sparcks of diamonds, rubyes, and ophales, with an agathe of her Majestis phisnamy and a perle pendante, with devices painted in it. The love for strange devices and enigmatical mottoes was fostered by the spirit of an age that witnessed the production of Lyly’s Euphues and Spenser’s Faerie Queene; while Elizabeth’s colossal vanity prompted the dedication to her of highly laudatory mottoes, like the inscription on a jewel belonging to Mr. Pierpont Morgan: HEI MIHI QUOD TANTO VIRTUS PERFUSA DECORE NON HABET ETERNOS INVIOLATA DIES. Few of the jewels of this stirring period display a more charming symbolism than those produced after the defeat and destruction of the Spanish Armada, whereon England is figured as an ark floating securely and tranquilly on a troubled sea, surrounded by the motto, SAEVAS TRANQUILLA PER UNDAS. The most remarkable of these Armada jewels is Mr. Pierpont Morgan’s, just mentioned, and another of the same class in the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum, Milan. A jewel more characteristic of the period than any other, and an historical relic of singular interest, is that chef d’œuvre of inventive genius—the Lennox or Darnley jewel, the property of His Majesty the King It is covered inside and out with the most elaborate symbolism, and contains altogether no less than twentyeight emblems and six mottoes (Pl. XXVIII, 4). Internal evidence proves this remarkable jewel to have been made by order of Lady Margaret Douglas, mother of Henry Darnley, in memory of her husband, Matthew Stuart, Earl of Lennox, who was killed in 1571. Among many other examples of Elizabethan jewellery, there stand out above the rest a certain number to which, besides their high artistic excellence, is attached the additional interest of historical associations. To this class belong the following important jewels: the Berkeley heirlooms, belonging to Lord Fitzhardinge; the Drake jewels, the property of Sir Francis Fuller-Eliott-Drake; the Wild Jewel (Miss Wild); the Barbor Jewel (Victoria and Albert Museum); and the Phœnix Jewel (Sloane Collection, British Museum). Public and private collections likewise contain a considerable number of enamelled miniature cases furnished with loops for suspension, and cameos set with jewelled and enamelled mountings of the period. The Berkeley heirlooms, among which is the Anglo-Saxon ring already mentioned, include the Hunsdon Onyx, the Drake pendant in form of a ship, Edward VI’s Prayer Book, and a crystal armlet. These exquisite jewels, according to tradition, were presented by Queen Elizabeth to her cousin Henry Carey, Lord Hunsdon, who died in 1596. They then passed to his son George, the second Baron Hunsdon, who so highly valued them, that he bequeathed them on his death, in 1603, to his wife, and afterwards to his only daughter Elizabeth, with strict injunctions to transmit the same to her posterity, to be preserved (according to the actual terms of his will) “Soe longe as the conscience of my heires shall have grace and honestie to perform my will, for that 1 esteeme them right jeweles, and monumentes worthie to be kept for theire beautie, rareness, and that for monie they are not to be matched, nor the like yet knowen to be founde in this realme.” The jewels mentioned, which came into the Berkeley family through the marriage of the above-named Elizabeth Carey with Lord Berkeley, are still preserved at Berkeley Castle. Further reference to these and other remarkable Elizabethan jewels will be given when the special species of ornaments to which they belong is being dealt with. There is one jewel of this date, however, which, though it no longer exists, is of particular interest from the fact that it is specially mentioned in the famous inventory of Charles l’s collection drawn up by Abraham Van der Doort in 1639.140 This golden jewel, we learn, was round, and hung with a small pendent pearl; one side was enamelled with a representation of the battle of Bosworth Field, and the other with the red and white roses of Lancaster and York upon a green ground. Within were four miniatures, Henry VII, Henry VIII, Edward VI, and Queen Mary. The miniatures are still preserved at Windsor Castle, but shorn of their enamelled case, which has long since disappeared. The jewel was bought by the King, so Van der Doort tells us, from “young Hilliard,” son of the famous miniaturist Nicholas Hilliard, who, besides painting the miniatures, probably also executed the enamel-work upon the jewel itself. Hilliard, like the artists of the Renaissance already cited, had been brought up as a goldsmith and jeweller, and, as we see by the inscription which he placed round his own portrait, held an appointment as goldsmith at Elizabeth s Court; while his knowledge and love of jewellery are admirably displayed in his miniatures, in which every jewel is painted with faultless accuracy and care. The mention of Hilliard introduces to our notice the other creators of the beautiful jewellery of the period. English work continued to be influenced by the Continent; and engraved designs for jewellery by the Frenchmen Ducerceau and Woeiriot, and by the eminent goldsmith and engraver Theodor de Bry, who himself worked in London in 1587 and the two following years, must have been well known and imitated in England. In spite of this, however, it would appear that Englishmen were no longer actually dependent for their jewellery upon foreigners. The latter ceased to hold the virtual monopoly they had once enjoyed; and their place was taken by a number of native craftsmen. Among these, the following were the most prominent: Dericke Anthony, Affabel Partridge, Peter Trender, and Nicolas Herrick—elder brother of William Herrick, James l’s jeweller, and father of Robert Herrick the poet. During the latter years of her reign Hugh Kayle and his partner Sir Richard Martin supplied the Queen with jewels as New Year’s gifts and presents to ambassadors amounting to upwards of 12,000. Enough has been said to demonstrate that the reign of Elizabeth, fertile in great events, was productive of much important jewellery, whose charm, excellence, and historic interest have, up to the present, by no means received the attention they deserve. And it may be stated, without prejudice, that jewels of the period which bear a clear stamp of English origin compare favourably, nay even advantageously, with the productions of contemporary jewellers of the Continent. The jewels of the unhappy Mary Stuart form a subject of peculiar interest. Like her jealous rival Queen Elizabeth, Mary was most lavish in her display of jewellery. In addition to the crown jewels she had a profusion of personal ornaments, her own private property. Her inventories, published by the Bannatyne Club (1863), furnish many a vivid description of the splendid objects which, during the course of her turbulent life, she bestowed on her friends or lost under stress of circumstances. They have further acquired quite an historical celebrity “from the frequency with which they were claimed by their unfortunate mistress in her appeals for mercy and justice during her long captivity, and the rapacity with which her royal jailer and other enemies sought or retained possession of these glittering spoils.” It is impossible here to enter into details respecting the many beautiful things recorded in her inventories, the strange vicissitudes that they underwent. Their dispersal would seem to have begun with her infatuated passion for Bothwell. The number of jewels she lavished on him when they parted on Carberry Hill, those she distributed as personal gifts, and others that served in the various emergencies in which the unfortunate Queen found herself, afford some idea of the extraordinary quantity of precious articles in her possession. A few of Mary’s actual jewels, such as the Duke of Norfolk’s rosary and jewelled necklace, the Duke of Portland’s jewelled cameo, and the Penicuik jewel, haye been preserved to our own day. Along with the historical documents must rank the Leven and Melville portrait—the brilliant centre-piece of Mr. Andrew Lang’s Portraits and Jewels of Mary Stuart. As far as jewellery in general is concerned, this portrait may be said to merit greater consideration than any picture of its own or of other times, in that it displays a complete parure of contemporary jewellery, each item of which is entered and described in detail in the personal inventories of the individual it represents.
CHAPTER XXV
RENAISSANCE HEAD-ORNAMENTS (ENSEIGNES, AIGRETTES, HAIR-PINS, EARRINGS)
The origin of the ornaments for the hat or cap, known generally as enseignes, has been mentioned in dealing with the jewellery of the Middle Ages. At the period of the Renaissance, the enseigne—the “bijou par excellence” it has been termed -was above all the recipient of the very highest workmanship, and formed the subject of varied designs of the most ingenious character. By the beginning of the fifteenth century fashion had already turned hat-badges almost entirely into articles of adornment, and judging by that worn by King Dagobert in Petrus Christuss picture of 1449, and, amongst many other portraits, by that of Richard III in the National Portrait Gallery, these jewels were composed of goldsmith’s work, enamelled, and set with precious stones. In the sixteenth century the majority of enseignes seem always to have borne some figured design; and Cellini, referring to the year 1525, says : “It was the custom at that epoch to wear little golden medals, upon which every nobleman or man of quality had some device or fancy of his own engraved; and these were worn in the cap.” For a considerable time the earlier religious badges sold at places of pilgrimage continued to be worn. Though enseignes very frequently bore some religious representation, or the figure or emblem of some patron saint, they ended, like other articles primarily religious, by becoming purely secular, and took the forms of devices of a fanciful or even humorous character. Every one from the highest rank downwards had his personal devise or impresa, or more often a series of them. It was worn as an emblem—an ingenious expression of some conceit of the wearer, the outcome of nis peculiar frame of mind It usually contained some obscure meaning, the sense of which, half hidden and half revealed, was intended to afford some play for the ingenuity of the observer. The love of the time for expressing things by riddles led to the publication of sets of emblems, like those of Alciatus, which had imitators in all directions. Every one, in fact, tried his hand at these “toys of the imagination.” Numbers of enseignes are mentioned in the inventories, and male portraits very commonly exhibit this form of decoration. Women also wore them upon the hat or in the hair, but not until about the middle of the sixteenth century. The hat was turned up so as to show the lining, and the badge was usually placed under the rim, at the side, and somewhat to the front of the hat. Some of these medallions are furnished with a pin, like a brooch; but as the majority have loops at the edge, or are pierced with holes for the purpose of sewing them to the head-dress, they can as a rule be distinguished from ordinary brooches. Pendants of the same form as those hung from neck-chains also appear occasionally as enseignes upon the hat. In England, during the sixteenth century, brooches, owches, or nowches, as they were often called, were extensively worn in caps and hats141 as men’s jewels in particular; and besides these there were jewelled hat-bands richly decorated with precious stones. The chronicler Hall mentions that on one occasion, in 1513, Henry VIII wore a hat called a “chapeau montabyn” which was adorned with a rich band or coronal, and had in addition an enseigne, for “ye folde of the chapeau was lined with crimsyn saten; and on yt a riche brooch withe ye image of sainct George.” An enamelled brooch of this design modelled in full relief with the figure of St. George and the dragon, with the Princess Sabra in the background, is preserved amongst the exceedingly interesting series of jewels in His Majesty’s collection at Windsor Castle. It is of gold, finely chased, brilliantly modelled, and surrounded with an open wire balustrade enamelled green. This brooch, traditionally believed to havé been worn by Henry VIII, is known as the Holbein George; but internal evidences tend to prove the unlikelihood of Holbein having had any hand in its construction. It appears to be of Venetian origin—though not without some traces of German influence—and to date from the first few years of the sixteenth century (Pl. XXVIII, 2). There exist several other jewels, the majority of them hat-ornaments, executed in this so-called “gold wire” enamel,142 of the same exquisite and rare style of workmanship, and all possessing a singular likeness to that at Windsor, both in the patterns of the dresses worn by the figures represented on them, and in general treatment, particularly of the hair of the figures, which is formed of ringlets of spiral twisted gold wire. Among other examples are two in the Salting Collection, another which was lately in the collection of Sir T. Gibson Carmichael,143 and a fourth in the Cabinet des Antiques in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. The wide range of subjects chosen for hat-ornaments can best be judged from the lists of “bonnets” in Henry VIII’s possession in the years 1526 and 1530, enriched with a variety of brooches.144 Representations of enseignes in pictures are too frequent to permit of any attempt to enumerate them. It is impossible, however, to refrain from drawing attention to the fine male portraits of Bartolommeo Veneto, an artist of marked individuality of character, who worked at Venice from about 1505 to 1530. He appears to have delighted in painting with peculiar care the beautiful enseignes worn by his sitters -attractive jewels enamelled in ronde bosse, and contemporary with the Windsor “George” and its fellows. The examples of his work that display such ornaments in the most striking manner are in the following collections: Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge; Dorchester House, London; the Crespi Gallery, Milan; the collection of Baron Tucher at Vienna; and the National Gallery, Rome.145 One of the most exquisite jewels of the Renaissance is a medallion of enamelled gold numbered 5583 in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris. It is oval, and in a space of 2 by 23/16 inches contains a composition of no less than twelve men and eight horses in high relief, representing a battle. Horsemen and foot-soldiers in antique armour are engaged in furious combat, and many have fallen. One horseman carries a banneret which flies in the wind. The background is enamelled green, and the figures, delicately modelled, are white, save for their armour and weapons, which are reserved in the gold. The frame of the jewel is furnished with four loops, which clearly explain its use (Pl. XXIX, 2) Its design offers an interesting comparison with two cameos (Nos. 643 and 644), themselves fanciful renderings of the subject of another cameo (No. 645), and an intaglio, the work of Matteo del Nassaro, in the same collection, both undoubtedly inspired by the famous painting after Raphael, known as the Battle of Constantine at the Milvian Bridge (A.D. 312), in the socalled Gallery of Constantine in the Vatican. Among the jewels in the public collections in London, which on account of their design or form were presumably intended to be worn in the hat or cap, there are several noteworthy examples. The Wallace Collection contains a circular gold enseigne, repoussé, chased, and partly enamelled, with a representation of Judith carrying the head of Holofernes. It is probably Italian. In the Waddesdon Bequest at the British Museum is an oval badge enamelled in relief with the Judgment of Paris. It is of the same minute style of work as that of the “Battle-Piece,” and is of striking similarity to a drawing by Hans Mielich, in the Royal Library, Munich.146 An enseigne in the Victoria and Albert Museumperhaps the most beautiful of all, and probably the work of a Florentine goldsmith—represents the head of John the Baptist on a charger. The caput Johannis in disco, a favourite subject in mediæeval art both in painting and sculpture, was also popular for personal ornaments. This symbol of the Precursor was no doubt phylacteric, for the efficacy of his intercession was most highly esteemed against epilepsy and other disorders. The enseigne in question, contemporary with one described as a “St. John’s head in a dish” in Henry VIII’s possession in 1530, is of gold, one and five-eighths of an inch in diameter, and shaped like a circular dish. It has a corded edge, and round the rim, in pierced and raised letters, now only partially enamelled, are the following words: NON; SUREXSIT INTER; NATOS MULIERUM. The sunk centre is covered with translucent ruby enamel, and in the middle is the head of the saint in gold and white enamel. The head is delicately modelled, and such care has the artist displayed in its execution that he has shown above the eyebrow the gash which Herodias, according to the legend, on receiving the head from Salome, inflicted on it with a pin from her hair, or with a knife seized from the table where the feast had taken place (Pl. XXIX, 1). All the four enseignes last mentioned are examples of the method of executing these ornaments described in Cellini’s famous treatise147 on the goldsmith’s art, where he extols the goldsmith Caradosso as a craftsman skilled above all others in their production. The work is repoussé; the St. John’s head being also worked into full relief by this process, and then applied to the dish. Such repoussé figures were frequently attached to an independent background formed of lapislazuli, agate, or some other precious substance. The revival of the art of gem-engraving led to a large demand for cameos—themselves more suitable for decorative purposes than intaglios—as personal ornaments. “It was much the custom of that time,” says Vasari, writing of the gem-engraver Matteo del Nassaro, “ to wear cameos and other jewels of similar kind round the neck and in the cap.” Matteo produced many admirable cameos for use as enseignes for Francis I and the nobles of his Court, almost every one of whom carried on their persons some example of his work. On jewels of this kind parts of the figures were occasionally executed in cameo, and the remainder in gold, chased and enamelled; but more frequently figures were worked entirely in hard material, and then, in accordance with the artistic taste of the time, enclosed in borders, enriched with enamel and jewelwork of the most exquisite variety of design. Unhappy vicissitudes, like those which the gems at Florence have undergone,148 have in course of time despoiled many a cameo of its rich setting. Yet in the great public gem collections of London, Paris, Vienna, St. Petersburg, Berlin, Munich, and Dresden, as well as in the cabinets of private collectors, are to be found a number of beautiful examples of the jeweller’s art at its best period, which have been preserved on account of the cameos they served to adorn. The finest enseigne that displays cameo and enamelled gold worked together in combination is Cellini’s exquisite Leda and the Swan, in the Münz- und Antiken-Kabinet at Vienna. The head and the torso of the figure of Leda is in cameo—the latter being an antique fragment; the remainder of the jewel is of gold, enriched with enamels, diamonds, and rubies. This is considered to be the actual jewel executed by Cellini at Rome about 1524 for the Gonfalonier Gabriele Cesarini149 (Pl. XXIX, 5). By far the most extensive collection of mounted cameos is preserved in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris. The majority of these jewels which follow the cartouche form are presumably of French fabrique, though a decision as to their precise provenance is here, as ever, a matter of considerable difficulty. Among brooches or medallions for the hat, whose purpose is clearly indicated by the presence of a pin or holes for attachment, the most noticeable are four, numbered respectively 595, 465, 513, and 1002. The first, bearing the head of a negro in agate, encircled with a band of rubies, has an outer border of open scrollwork, of white, heightened with red enamel. On each side and below is a table diamond; and above, a crown set with triangular faceted diamonds (Pl. XXIX, 4). Lack of space precludes detailed reference to the other three enseignes de chaperon. They are equally attractive, both on account of their design and the high quality of their workmanship. Those unable to afford such costly ornaments wore hat-brooches or medallions in cheaper materials, either bronze or copper. These were cast or stamped, and not, like the more magnificent enseignes of gold, executed by the repoussé process. The work of the earlier medallists was produced by means of casting, the medallions being afterwards delicately chased. From the beginning of the sixteenth century, medallists, who, it may be remembered, were mostly jewellers and gem-engravers as well, executed engraved dies, from which their medallions were struck instead of cast. The majority of smaller medallions so generally worn as hat-badges were multiplied by the newer process of stamping, and pierced with holes for attachment to the head-dress. They were afterwards gilded and occasionally enriched with enamel. Further information about the cheaper class of enseignes is met with in Bernard Palissy’s Art de la terre, according to which the enamellers of Limoges, owing to competition, had to supply figured hat-badges at trois sols la douzaine. “Which badges were so well worked and their enamels so well melted over the copper that no picture could be prettier.” Brooches of even cheaper materials are alluded to by Shakespeare in Love’s Labour’s Lost, when Biron and Dumain, ridiculing Holofernes, who acts as Judas in the pageant of the Nine Worthies, exclaim: Biron. Saint George’s half-cheek in a brooch. Dumain. Ay, and in a brooch of lead. Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer. The fashion for enseignes lasted until about the second quarter of the seventeenth century. During this later period they were generally worn in the hats of persons of wealth and distinction, in the form of a cluster of precious stones150 (Pl. XXXIV, 3); while the enseignes with figured compositions appear to have fallen into disuse. The remarkable letter addressed by James I to Charles and Buckingham in Spain, in 1623, deals chiefly with jewelled hat-brooches of this kind (p. 300). Hatbands richly jewelled were likewise worn; and among the jewels sent to Spain for the use of the Prince was a magnificent hat-band “garnished with 20 diamonds set in buttons of gold in manner of Spanish work.” It was made up of the following stones, representing every mode of cutting employed at the time: 8 four-square table diamonds, 2 six-square table diamonds, 2 eight-square table diamonds, 2 four-square table diamonds cut with facets, 2 large pointed diamonds, I fair heart diamond, and 3 triangle diamonds.151
AIGRETTES At the end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century an aigrette was often worn in the hat, a jewelled brooch being employed to hold it. The latter was sometimes in the form of a pipe or socket into which the stems of the feathers were inserted. A fine example of this class of ornament, discovered at Lauingen in the coffin of Otto Henry, Count Palatine of Neuburg (d. 1604), is now preserved with the rest of the jewels of the same family in the Bavarian National Museum at Munich. It is in the shape of a heart openworked and enriched with enamel, and has in the centre the letters D. M.—initials of his wife Dorothea Maria -set with rubies. Behind is a tube for the reception of an aigrette of herons’ feathers (Pl. XXX, 3) Though never in general use, feathers with settings mounted with precious stones and attached by jewelled brooches were worn long before this date; and Charles the Bold’s hat—chapeau montauban—(Lambecius, Bib. Caes. Vindobon., II, p. 516) was enriched with feathers of this description magnificently jewelled. About the commencement of the seventeenth century the feather aigrette was often replaced by one of precious stones. A jewel of this form is in the Waddesdon Bequest. It is 3½ inches in height, and formed of five plumes—three jewelled with rubies and diamonds and the others enamelled white—rising from an open-worked ornament in the form of military trophies, enamelled and set with four diamonds. A design for an aigrette of almost exactly the same style may be seen among the engravings for jewellery by the Augsburg goldsmith Daniel Mignot. The engravings of Paul Birckenhultz (c. 1617) likewise contain designs for similar ornaments. These jewelled aigrettes were much in fashion in England at the time of James I, and a “feather jewel” or “jewel of gold in fashion of a feather, set with diamonds,” is mentioned several times in the royal accounts. The finely executed drawings for jewellery in the Victoria and Albert Museum by Arnold Lulls, jeweller to James I, include four coloured designs for jewelled aigrettes (Pl. XXX, 1). They are provided with short, stout pins, and set with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds, arranged in the most tasteful manner, and are evidently intended to be further enriched with enamel. Other jewelled aigrettes in favour in the seventeenth century were composed solely of precious stones. Reference will be made to these in a later chapter dealing with the ornaments of that period.
HAIR-PINS
Besides the enseigne worn occasionally by ladies, the jewelled aigrettes of more frequent use, and the gold circlets set with precious stones, more elaborate forms of head-decoration were employed. Though these were often entwined with ropes of pearls and sprinkled with precious stones, they belong rather to costume proper. There remain, however, hair-pins, of which we obtain a certain amount of information from the inventories, and from the few actual specimens that still remain. Hair-pins, like other articles of Renaissance jewellery, are remarkable for their variety of design, particularly as far as the heads of the pins are concerned. In the Germanic Museum at Nuremberg are several hair-pins with heads variously ornamented, one of them being in the form of a small enamelled hand. The shaft of the pin is often flat, openworked and enamelled; occasionally the head is attached to it by a ring and hangs loosely from it. A gold enamelled hair-pin is among the jewels of Princess Amalia Hedwig (d. 1607), the contents of whose coffin, opened in the eighteenth century with those of the Counts Palatine of Neuburg at Lauingen, are now in the Bavarian National Museum. This pin has a small open rosette hanging loosely from it set with five diamonds and five pendent pearls. Contemporary portraits show how these pins were worn, and in a portrait of a young woman by Peter Moreelse in the Rotterdam Gallery, just such a pin is seen thrust in under the close-fitting lace cap, so that the pendent head rests upon the forehead. In the inventories of the time hair-pins are termed bodkins; and among Queen Elizabeth’s New Year’s gifts are several of these richly decorated bodkins. Thus: “A bodkyn of golde, garnished at the ende with four smale diamondes and a smale rubye, with a crown of ophales, and a very smale perle pendant fashone.” “A bodkin of golde, with a flower thearat, garnished with smale rubyes and ophals on one side.” “A bodkinne of silver, with a little ostridg of gold, pendant, enamuled, and two waspes of golde lose enamuled.” In the inventory of jewels of Anne, Duchess of Somerset, second wife of the Protector Somerset (1587), is “a bodkynne of golde, with clawes in the ende, inamyled blacke.”
EARRINGS
The fashion of wearing the hair over the ears, which, as we have seen, completely banished earrings from among the ornaments of the Middle Ages, greatly checked their use during the sixteenth century. In Italian pictures one finds here and there some traces of them, but compared with the profusion of other ornaments, their almost complete absence is somewhat surprising. The most remarkable instance of their use is the beautiful portrait of a lady by Sodoma, or by Parmigianino, in the Städel Institute at Frankfort, where are seen elaborate earrings of openwork scroll pattern with three pendent pearls. They measure upwards of two and a half inches in length. The so-called Fornarina in the Tribuna of the Uffizi wears a small gold pendant in the form of an amphora attached to a simple ring; while in the portrait by Angelo Bronzino in the Pitti Gallery, supposed to be that of Bianca Cappello (1548-87), wife of Francesco de’ Medici, the lobe of the ear is pierced twice, and the two rings placed in it support a pendant formed of two pearls mounted in gold, with three hanging pearls below. In the second half of the sixteenth century, with the altered mode of wearing the hair, earrings, though still rare in pictures, appear to have come more into fashion, and the prints of Woeiriot, Collaert, Birckenhultz, and other engravers of the day, as well as a number of examples in the various museums, show the types then in use. English portraits of the first half of the sixteenth century do not exhibit these ornaments, but when they appear later on, as in the numerous portraits of Queen Elizabeth, they are usually in the form of pear-shaped pearl drops. Mary Queen of Scots appears to have generally worn earrings, judging by the inventory of her jewels in 1561,152 which contains a very large number, including the following: “Deux pendans doreille faictz en facon de croix de Hierusalem esmaillez de blanc—Deux petis pendans doreille garniz de deux petittes perles de facon de doubles ames—Deux petis pendans doreille dor emplis de senteure.” The use of earrings, curiously enough, was not confined to women, and we find men, even the sedatest, wearing them. “Women,” says Philip Stubbes in his Anatomie of Abuses (1583), are so far bewitched as they are not ashamed to make holes in their ears, whereat they hang rings, and other jewels of gold and precious stones; but this, he adds, “is not so much frequented among women as among men.” This custom appears to have originated in Spain, where the use of earrings was pretty general among both sexes, and as the result of Spanish influence was introduced into France at the luxurious Court of Henry III. The fashion subsequently came to England, where it was generally affected by the courtiers of Elizabeth and James I, as is clear from contemporary male portraits, where an earring is worn, as a rule, in one ear only. Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset, is seen in the National Portrait Gallery wearing a ruby earring; while the Duke of Buckingham was particularly noticeable for the splendour of his diamond earrings. Commenting on the degeneracy of his contemporaries, Holinshed in his Chronicle (1577) observes: “Some lusty courtiers also and gentlemen of courage do wear either rings of gold, stones, or pearl in their ears, whereby they imagine the workmanship of God to be not a little amended.” In a splendour-loving time one might expect to find such ornaments among courtiers, but that earrings were worn also by men of action and men of parts is evident from the portraits of Shakespeare, Sir Walter Raleigh, and the Earl of Southampton. The use of earrings among men continued to the time of Charles I, and in Lenton’s Voung Gallant’s Whirligigg (1629) a fop is described with – Haire’s curl’d, eares pearl’d, with Bristows153 brave and bright, Bought for true Diamonds in his false sight. King Charles himself followed the general fashion and hung a large pearl in his left ear. This he wore even on the scaffold, where he took it from his ear and gave it to a faithful follower. It is still preserved, and is now owned by the Duke of Portland. It is pear-shaped, about five-eighths of an inch long, and mounted with a gold top, and a hook to pass through the ear. Earrings, together with similar luxuries, vanished at the time of the Protectorate; men are not seen wearing them after the Restoration, though they are still in use among certain classes on account of their supposed value as preservatives against affections of the eyes.
CHAPTER XXVI
RENAISSANCE NECKLACES, NECK-CHAINS, AND COLLARS
Necklaces or neck-chains worn by both sexes are a prominent feature in Renaissance jewellery. Just as in primitive times the neck was encircled by a torque, so at this later period it was the custom to carry heavy chains of pure gold, which were worn in different ways, either round the throat, or else upon the shoulders and low down over the breast. Sometimes one long chain was wound several times round the neck so that the uppermost row closely encircled the throat. Not satisfied with one, women in particular occasionally wore as many as half a dozen chains of different design covering the body from neck to waist. From the fifteenth until the middle of the seventeenth century neck-chains were a frequent adjunct to male costume, and allusion is made to them in Barclay’s Ship of Fools (printed by Pynson in 1508): Some theyr neckes charged with colers, and chaynes As golden withtthes: theyr syngers sul of rynges: Theyr neckes naked : almoste vnto the raynes; Theyr sleues blasinge lyke to a Cranys wynges. Men’s necklaces, apart from the chains and collars of distinction belonging to particular orders or guilds, seem to have been mostly of pure gold, and in the reign of Henry VIII the fashion of wearing them was carried to a most unreasonable excess. Hall speaks of the “nombre of chaynes of golde and bauderickes both massy and grate” worn at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and of the “marveilous treasor of golde” thus displayed. References to the extraordinary dimensions of these chains show that they must have been extremely inconvenient to wear. Henry VIII’s Book of Payments records the payment in 1511 of £199 to the goldsmith Roy for a chain of gold weighing no less than 98 ounces. This is actually surpassed in Elizabeth’s time, when Her Majesty received as a New Year’s gift in 1588 “one cheine of golde, weing one hundred threescore and one ounce.” Queen Mary had a heavy chain of gold made by her jeweller, Robert Raynes, out of the angels received as New Year’s gifts;154 and the curious custom of converting bullion into chains is further exemplified in the case of Sir Thomas Gresham, the bulk of whose wealth on his death in 1579 was found to consist of gold chains. Pictures without number exhibit these ponderous neck-ornaments, while contemporary wills teem with references to them. That they were very much worn in Shakespeare’s time would be apparent had we no other authority than his frequent allusion to them, as for instance in the Comedy of Evrors, where there is a great ado about a chain. Indeed, no gentleman was considered properly equipped unless he had his chain of gold upon his shoulders. With regard to their form, it seems that chains which appear as though made of plaited wire, and were known in mediaeval times, remained still in use. But the majority of chains are composed of rounded links of various designs. They are usually of great length, so as to encircle the neck and shoulders several times. Extraordinarily common though such chains must have been, but few examples have survived, and the reason for this must be that, composed of pure metal, they went direct to the melting-pot as soon as they became unfashionable. Yet owing to peculiar circumstances some still exist. In the Germanic Museum at Nuremberg are preserved several examples dating from the first quarter of the seventeenth century. These formerly belonged to the Holtzendorff family, and were buried during the Thirty Years’ War, at Pinnow in North Germany, where they were unearthed a few years ago.155 Two gold chains dating from about the middle of the same century are preserved in the Ashmolean Museum. They were presented to Elias Ashmole: the one 29 inches long, formed of thirty-two openwork quatrefoil links, by Christian V, King of Denmark, and the other, of circular links, by the Elector of Brandenburg in 1680, on the publication of the History of the Order of the Garter. The custom of presenting chains of gold was as common then, it is to be observed, as in the most ancient times. John Williams, jeweller of James I, was paid sums amounting to upwards of £13,000 for chains of gold given by the King to divers ambassadors. These heavy linked or twisted chains were worn principally by men, but not exclusively, as is clear from numerous early portraits—those, for instance, by the German painters Bernard Strigel and Lucas Cranach, whose ladies (as in the portrait by Cranach in the National Gallery) almost invariably have massive gold chains. Though generally composed of metal rings, men’s chains, especially those worn by men of high rank, were occasionally composed of cylinders or plaques linked together and enriched with enamel and precious stones. Such jewelled collars were, however, chiefly reserved for women. Henry VIII’s numerous portraits generally show him adorned with magnificent collars set with pearls and precious stones; and it is recorded that on the occasion of his attending St. Paul’s at the proclamation of peace in 1515 he wore a collar thickly studded with the finest carbuncles, as large as walnuts. Amongst the numerous collars mentioned in his inventory of 1526 is a “carkayne of hearts, with a hand at each end, holding a device of a goodly balasse garnished with five pearls and three diamonds, and a hanging pearl.”156 The jewelled neck-chain worn by women, and composed of strings of precious stones, “ropes of pearls,” or of jewelled and enamelled sections, is often represented in pictures as being gathered in a festoon at the breast and hanging in loops at each side as low as the waist. A chain of gold of this character—one amongst many similar presented by the Earl of Leicester to Queen Elizabeth—was, “made like a pair of beads, containing eight long pieces, garnished with small diamonds, and four score and one smaller pieces, fully garnished with like diamonds.” Besides the chains or collars worn round the neck and upon the shoulders, there were the actual necklets worn round the throat, and often only distinguishable from the collar proper by their length (Pl. XXXI, 1) These necklaces, or carcanets, which almost invariably had as a central ornament an elaborate pendent jewel, are figured in such profusion in sixteenth-century portraits, particularly by the painters of the German school, that it is needless to mention particular examples. In Henry VIIl’s time they were worn in great abundance. The King loaded his wives with sumptuous jewels, and encircled their throats—on which the axe was eventually to fall—with jewelled and enamelled necklaces. The “carkyonetts” of Queen Elizabeth, of which she received an immense number, were equally magnificent. A New Year’s gift in 1587 was a “carkyonett of golde, like halfe moones, garnished with sparcks of rubyes and diamonds pendant, and one rowe of seede perles.”157 The forms of the necklaces and jewelled neck-chains differ so much that the reader must be referred to the various collections of this country and the Continent. Occasionally necklaces of chain formation or of plaited wire are set with stones, but of more frequent occurrence are those where every single link shows a special development of a bijou kind. In the Renaissance necklace every link is for the most part treated as a symmetrical composition, either cartouche-shaped or of pendent form. Hence it happens that in collections, as Herr Luthmer suggests,158 single links of this kind may occasionally be found incorrectly classified under the title of pendants. Those in existence display a variety of very remarkable formations, for seldom are the links exactly alike: generally a large and a small motive are arranged alternately—a larger and more richly decorated central link being inserted into the middle of the chain for the purpose of supporting or introducing the rich pendent jewel. To this type belongs one of the most noteworthy necklaces in existence, which now forms part of the Adolphe Rothschild Bequest in the Louvre. It is of gold set with pearls and precious stones, and is composed of twenty-two openwork links and a pendant, all enamelled in relief, the eleven larger links and the pendant containing each in separate compositions a story from the history of the Passion. The groups of figures are of wonderful execution, and in spite of their minute proportions are singularly expressive, being worked in a delicate and at the same time most resolute manner. When exhibited by the Countess of Mount Charles at the Jewellery Exhibition at South Kensington in 1872, the jewel was thus referred to: “This superb specimen of Italian Cinquecento work has been attributed to Benvenuto Cellini, and is at least as good as anything extant known to be by his hand.” This cautious observation need not disconcert one; for the jewel is too closely allied in style and workmanship to the jewellery of South Germany of the second half of the sixteenth century to permit of such attribution. Nevertheless it must certainly be reckoned among the most elaborate examples of Cinquecento jewellery that have come down to us. The great display of necklaces and long neck-chains ceased about the middle of the seventeenth century. In common with other similar objects they entirely disappeared in England during the Protectorate; nor were they ever worn again in any greater profusion than they are at the present day.
CHAPTER XXVII
RENAISSANCE NECK-PENDANTS
The necklaces, collars, or neck-chains which have just been spoken of as noticeable features in Renaissance decoration served the purpose of suspending a species of ornament even more peculiarly characteristic of the period—the pendant. This was hung either to the necklet, or to the neck-chain that fell upon the breast. Among all classes of Renaissance jewellery, and indeed of the jewellery of all time, this neck-pendant certainly deserves the first place, not only on account of the predominating part it played among the other ornaments of the period, but also on account of the great number of examples we possess of it, and the variety of forms which it exhibits. Throughout the Middle Ages almost every pendant worn at the neck (pent-à-col) bore a religious signification, but towards the close of the fifteenth or the beginning of the sixteenth century the pendant seems to have lost much of its religious character, and became mainly an object of decoration. That even in the sixteenth century it did not entirely serve a decorative purpose is shown by a number of portraits dating from the first half of the century, where the termination of the neck-chain is hidden beneath a square-cut bodice. What the object was which was thus concealed is uncertain. It was very possibly a reliquary, or perhaps a cross; for crosses form a very large proportion of Renaissance pendants existing at the present day. Apart from crosses, the majority of Renaissance pendants represent a figured subject of some description, while compositions entirely of precious stones appear to be less common—at least in the second half of the sixteenth century, to which the greater number of these jewels belong. Holbein’s designs for pendants, on the other hand, were composed, it may be remembered, mainly of precious stones. From this we may infer that jewels having as a central ornament a single precious stone, or a gem surrounded by stones, and a regular contour, generally antedate those with figured compositions within uneven or broken borders. This of course applies to jewels which exhibit distinctly a back and front, and not to those formed of a single figure in the round, which are often difficult to date, though extant examples belong mostly to the latter half of the century. It is to be noticed that the majority of pendants are suspended by two, or sometimes three, richly jewelled and enamelled chains, connected above by a cartouche similarly enriched. While sixteenth-century pendants display on their front the art of the goldsmith-enameller in its full perfection, the reverse likewise exhibits artistic work in engraving as well as enamelling. It is likewise worthy of remark that Renaissance pendants are almost invariably enriched with pendent pearls. Of the immense number of subjects represented on these jewels we have already spoken in the introduction to the jewellery of the period. For pendants formed of single figures executed in the round, the whole of ancient or mediæval imagery—with its figures of Pan or of wood-nymphs; centaurs, tritons, or mermen; nereids, mermaids or sirens; hippocamps, unicorns, dragons, and other creatures, real as well as fabulous. of the earth, air, or sea—was revived, or else transformed to suit the fancy of the Renaissance jeweller. The formation of many of these was frequently suggested by a monster pearl, unsuitable for ordinary jewellery on account of its baroque or misshapen form. introduced in a wonderfully skilful manner into the body or breast of a figure, which was completed in enamelled goldwork. In such adaptations the German jewellers, who seem to have revelled in technical difficulties, displayed extraordinary ingenuity. Among groups of several figures employed as subjects for representation, generally within a frame of ornamental design, scenes from ancient mythology predominate, the Judgment of Paris being a very favourite theme. But Christian allegories are not excluded: besides the frequent representation of Charity with her two children or her symbol the pelican, we find Faith, Hope, and Fortitude; St. George and the Dragon or St. Michael are also frequently met with; while amongst scriptural subjects of the Old and New Testaments or the Apocrypha, the Annunciation is perhaps the most popular. The majority of the pendants of this class show a rich and uneven outline broken by tendrils often enriched with small dots of enamel, by projecting wings of birds or amorini, by strapwork and other ornament. Occasionally a “Charity” or an “ Annunciation” is placed in an architectural niche, but the architectural device is not infrequently limited to a horizontal beam formed of a row of table-cut stones and two obelisks of the same construction forming the ends to the right and left (Pl. XXXIII, 1). It is only in the smaller examples of pendants that we find the design lying flat on a plane. Generally the jewel is fashioned in relief by means of two, three, or even four superimposed planes formed of openwork plates arranged in such a manner that the lower parts are seen through openings in the upper. These are fastened together by rivets sometimes threeeighths of an inch long, and the upper field of the jewel, on which are groups of enamelled figures, is set with stones in very large pyramidal collets, so that the whole composition is increased to a considerable height. Collections contain frequent examples of this class of pendant (Pl. XXXII). One of the most elaborate, of Augsburg work dating from the end of the sixteenth century, is in the Adolphe Rothschild Bequest in the Louvre. In the centre is an enamelled group representing the Annunciation, within an architectural framework set with diamonds, rubies, and pendent pearls. The jewel, which is suspended by triple chains from an enamelled cartouche, measures in its total length 54 inches. It was formerly in the Debruge-Duménil Collection. Similarly large openwork pendants, enriched with enamels, precious stones, and pendent pearls, are shown attached by a ribbon to the left breast in three portraits dated 1609, representing the Princesses Elizabeth, Hedwig, and Dorothea of Brunswick, Nos. 458, 460, and 461 in the Hampton Court Gallery. Of pendants containing groups of small enamelled figures there seems to have been an enormous production in Southern Germany towards the close of the sixteenth century, particularly in the workshops of Munich and Augsburg. These pieces, which are very charming, are greatly sought after by collectors, and are among the most highly prized of all objects of virtu at the present day. Their workmanship is extraordinarily elaborate; though not a few of them, it must be confessed, are overloaded with detail, and somewhat unsatisfactory in composition. With the revival of the glyptic art, cameos began to play a prominent part in jewellery. A considerable number of cameos in the great gem collections, set in exquisite jewelled and enamelled mounts, are provided with loops for use as pendants.159 Numerous gems, splendidly mounted as pendants, are to be found in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris (Pl. XXXI, 6); and in the British Museum are a few fine examples from the Carlisle Collection. Of extant pendants having as a centre-piece a figured subject, either cut in cameo or of repoussé work enamelled, the majority show uneven contours. generally of broken strapwork, after the manner of the German ornamentists, though not a few of those of oval shape have frames with smooth outlines. Many, on the other hand, follow the cartouche design in form of shields with upturned edges. These figure chiefly in the designs of the French maîtres ornemanistes, Androuet Ducerceau and Woeiriot. The doubling of the ame characteristic of the French cartouches, and the broken contours of the German pendants, which allow of a variety of intertwinings and traversings, offer a favourite field for the display of the jeweller’s art in the application of polychrome enamels. The “nef,” or model of a ship, was of frequent use as an article of table plate. Pendent jewels likewise take the form of a small ship completely equipped,160 suspended by chains, and hung with pearls. In this style of jewel, which is perhaps of Venetian origin, the crescent-shaped caravel or carvel, open and without a deck, but built up high at the prow and stern, with forecastle and cabin, and large ship’s lantern, is often adhered to; but the design is not infrequently somewhat conventional. Many of the best-known collections contain examples of these “nef” or “navette” pendants. Their probable Adriatic origin is evinced by the several specimens exhibited, together with jewels from the Greek Islands, in the Franks Bequest in the British Museum. The Victoria and Albert Museum contains a choice example from the Spitzer Collection. It carries three masts, five sails, a lantern, and a high poop and stern. The rigging is of twisted gold wire, and the hull covered with an imbricated pattern in translucent blue, red, and green, and opaque white enamels. A variety to this form is presented by a remarkable piece in the museum at Vienna. It represents a barque manned by two rowers; while at the prow and stern are mandoline players who entertain two passengers seated beneath the framework awning such as was in use on the gondolas of the time. The whole is enriched with polychrome enamels. The figures are in full relief, and the boat, hung by three chains, is further set with diamonds and rubies. We may estimate the extraordinary value attached to such objects at the present day by the fact that a jewel very similar to this last was sold at Messrs. Christie’s Rooms in the autumn of 1903 for no less a sum than £6,500. The hull of this jewel is identical with that at Vienna, but figures of Antony and Cleopatra, finely executed, though somewhat out of proportion to the rest, here take the place of the couple beneath the awning; while instead of being hung by chains (as is suitable to this form of pendant) the jewel is backed by a composition of scroll- and strap-work, characteristic of German and Flemish work of the second half of the sixteenth century. A comparison with contemporary designs clearly associates these two objects with the well-known set of engravings for pendent jewels published by Hans Collaert at Antwerp in 1581 (PI. XXXIII). Another version of this jewel is in the Bavarian National Museum, Munich. The figures are the same as on the Vienna jewel, but the vessel is in the form of a fish. Just as the great gem cabinets preserve pendants whose jewelwork is confined to richly decorated frames, so there exist a considerable number of mounted medals, which must be looked for in collections of coins and medals, among which they are classed on account of the presumed preponderating importance of their centre-pieces. These pendent gold medals (Gnadenmedaillen), with beautiful jewelled and enamelled mounts, occasionally hung with pearls and suspended by chains from ornate cartouches, were much in favour in Germany in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and were given by noble personages, whose portraits were figured on them, as presents and as marks of special distinction. Many examples, as is to be expected, are to be found in the coin cabinets of Munich and Berlin; while others are preserved in the more important public and private collections of jewellery. These medallions, as was natural, were frequently made in duplicate, and the Waddesdon Bequest, and the Salting and Pierpont Morgan collections each contain a jewel, dated 1612, of Maximilian, Archduke of Austria (1558-1620), in an openworked border of enamelled scrolls interrupted by four shields of arms, and suspended by three chains, united above by an oval escutcheon with the arms of Austria on one side and the cross of the Teutonic order on the other. The Victoria and Albert Museum has an enamel-mounted medal of Albert VI, Duke of Bavaria (1584-1666), a facsimile of which, hung with a single instead of trilobed pearl, is in the Munich cabinet. Many of the motives connected with pendants denote associations which appear inexplicable, until it is understood that no small number of them, like the pendent medals, were gifts from princes, the so-called “faveurs” granted in recognition of services rendered. Among the princely gifts we must class that large group of pendants which consist only of one letter or a monogram in an ornamental frame or in openwork, sometimes composed entirely of precious stones. Of these the Victoria and Albert Museum possesses a fine early example in form of a square tablet of gold set with pearls, bearing on one side two enamelled shields of arms, and on the other the initials DA, in a frame formed of bracket-shaped terminal figures and human masks. It is of German work of about the year 1530 (Pl. XXXI, 3). Distinct from these princely monograms are those employed for religious purposes, particularly the monograms of Christ and the Virgin. Probably the finest example of the numerous pendants in the form of a single figure, particularly of those whose formation is suggested by a large baroque pearl, is the triton or merman jewel in the possession of Lord Clanricarde. The figure, whose body is made of a single pearl, with head and arms of white enamel and tail of brilliant yellow, green, and blue, wields a jaw-bone in the right hand, and an enamelled satyr’s mask as a shield in the left. This magnificent Italian jewel was brought from India by Lord Canning. Pendants of somewhat similar character, often representing a mermaid holding a comb in one hand and a mirror in the other, are to be found in the Vienna, Windsor, Waddesdon, and other collections. They are almost invariably of German workmanship. Amongst many other jewels of similar formation the most important is a pendant in the form of a dragon in the Galerie d’Apollon of the Louvre. The modelling and general form of this jewel is very fine, and its enamel-work, chiefly of white and light blue, in the design of circles and chevrons, especially on the wings, is most admirable. It is Spanish work of the highest quality, and was bequeathed by Baron Davillier, who procured it in Spain (Frontispiece). Of other animal forms are those of a lion, a drome dary, a dog (termed a talbot) (Pl. XXXIV, 2), and a fish; birds include, besides a dove (the symbol of the Holy Ghost), eagles, cocks, parrots, and pelicans. Fine examples of the two latter are at South Kensington from the Treasury at Saragossa: one is mounted with a large hyacinth in front161 (Pl. XXXIV, 1), the other is represented plucking at a blood-red carbuncle set in her breast. Among miscellaneous pendants worn in Renaissance times attached to the neck-chain mention must be made of whistles. These (like the “bo’son’s pipe” of to-day) were formed, as has been shown (p. 190), of a pipe or tube, sometimes in the form of a pistol, through which the air is carried into a hole in a ball, thus producing the sound. Whistles of this kind were designed by Dürer and Brosamer, and they are shown suspended at the neck in the engraved portraits of William, Duke of Juliers, and of John of Leyden by Aldegrever, in the portrait of a man by Lucas Cranach the elder (1472-1553) in the Louvre, and in portraits of the Margrave Philibert of Baden (1549) by Hans Schöpfer the elder at Munich and Nuremberg. Silver whistles of somewhat similar construction, ornamented with a mermaid or siren, or with a lion or sea-horse, were frequently worn also as charms in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. They are usually hung with little bells, possibly for the purpose of averting the evil eye—the mal’occhio or “jettatura” it is termed in Italy. Examples are preserved in the Cluny, Nuremberg, and South Kensington museums. In Aldegrever’s design for a whistle, of the year 1539, the lower part is formed of a case containing small articles for toilet purposes. Such articles, in the shape of toothpicks and earpicks, often richly gemmed and enamelled, were very commonly worn hanging from a fine gold chain or thread about the neck. Elaborate toothpicks are occasionally seen in pictures, as in the Venetian portrait of a young man in the National Gallery of Ireland. Their owners are sometimes shown affectionately toying with them. Judging by the frequency with which they are met with in inventories, they must have been extremely popular. A few quotations may be given. Thus: Henry VIII “Two gold toothpicks with H and E—A gold (1530). toothpick and an earpick, with a chain; and two other toothpicks, one with a ruby and a pearl, and the other with a ruby and a diamond—Two gold whistles.”162 Queen Elizabeth amongst her New Year’’s gifts received the following:—1573-4: “Six smale tothe-picks of golde. Geven by Mrs. Snowe, one of them lost by her Majestie.” 1574-5: “An eare-picke of golde enamuled, garnished with sparcks of rubyes, blue saphirs, and seede perle.” 1576-7: “A tothe and eare-picke of golde, being a dolphin enamuled, with a perle pendaunte, 16 small rubyes being but sparcks, and 5 sparcks of dyamonds.”163 Most of the important collections of Cinquecento jewellery contain specimens of these magnificent toothpicks. The form is often that of a mermaid or merman. The body is constructed of a baroque pearl; the tail terminates in a point. Designs for a couple of jewels of this kind were published by Erasmus Hornick of Nuremberg in 1562. In the Cluny Museum (Wasset Bequest is a silver-gilt pendant, an ear- and toothpick combined, one end being an ear-, the other a toothpick. It is ornamented in the centre with clasped hands and hung with a pearl, and is German work of the sixteenth century. In addition to the museums already mentioned (namely, the Victoria and Albert Museum and the Vienna Museum, the Rothschild and Davillier Bequests in the Louvre, and the coin or gem collections of London, Paris, Berlin, and Munich), numbers of pendants, in immense variety of form, are to be found in all the well-known collections. The Waddesdon Bequest in the British Museum contains, perhaps, the largest series; while the Wallace Collection, the Prussian Crown Treasury at Berlin, the Bavarian Crown Treasury at Munich, and the Green Vaults at Dresden, all possess a great number of examples. Several English pendants of the Renaissance claim attention for their rare beauty and historical importance. Of the pendants of the time of Henry VIII we obtain a tolerably accurate idea from contemporary portraits, and from Holbein’s inimitable series of drawings. The earliest existing example, which, so far as can be ascertained, dates from the Holbein period, is known as the Penruddock Jewel. It is believed to have been presented in 1544 by Queen Catherine Parr to Sir George Penruddock of Compton Chamberlayne, and Anne his wife. It is triangular in shape, and set with a large cabochon sapphire surrounded by rubies and diamonds in open-work enamel setting. This remarkable jewel is shown on a portrait of Sir George Penruddock by Lucas de Heere in possession of its owner, Mr. Charles Penruddock, at Compton Chamberlayne, Wiltshire. The majority of English sixteenth-century pendants extant date from the Elizabethan period, and are almost all more or less associated with the Virgin Queen. The ingenuity displayed in devising curious forms for these ornaments can best be judged from the lists of the Queen’s own jewels. A few of these may be mentioned: A juell of golde, being a catt, and myce playing with her.—One greene frog, the back of emeraldes, smale and greate, and a pendaunte emeralde, and a smale cheyne of golde to hang by.—A juell of golde, being an anker. Another “being a dolfyn,” another “two snakes wounde together,” others take the form of a horse-shoe, a swan, and a rainbow. The “ nef” jewel, of which we have spoken, was also a favourite one. In the Queen’s inventory are a number of entries of this class of pendant, and among them: “A jeuel of golde, being a shippe, sett with a table dyamonde, of fyve sparcks of dyamondes, and a smale perle pendaunte.—Ajuell, being a ship of mother-of-perle, garneshed with small rubys, and 3 small diamonds.” One of the chief treasures among the Hunsdon heirlooms at Berkeley Castle is a pendant of this form, a present to Elizabeth from Sir Francis Drake, and given by her to Lord Hunsdon. It is supposed to represent the famous Golden Hind, the ship in which Drake sailed round the world. The hull, which is of ebony, is set with a table diamond; the masts and rigging of gold are enriched with blue, white, green, and black opaque enamels, and set with seed pearls. In the ship is a seated figure of Victory blowing a horn, and behind is a cherub crowning her with a wreath. The small boat suspended below is enamelled blue (Pl. XXXV, 2). A jewel also associated with Sir Francis Drake, and perhaps the most important of all Elizabethan pendants, is preserved, with other relics of the great navigator, at Nutwell Court, Devon. It is set in front with a fine Renaissance cameo in Oriental sardonyx, representing two heads—a negro in the upper and dark layer, and a classical head in the light layer of the stone. Behind is a miniature by Hilliard of Elizabeth, dated 1575. The border, of most admirable work, is richly enamelled in red, yellow, blue, and green, interspersed with diamonds and rubies. Beneath is a cluster pendant of pearls, to which is attached a very fine drop pearl (Pl. XXXIV, 4). This magnificent jewel was presented to Sir Francis Drake by Queen Elizabeth in 1579, and in his portrait by Zucchero (now belonging, together with the jewel, to his descendant Sir F. Fuller-Eliott-Drake) he is represented wearing it suspended from the neck by a red and gold cord, over a silk scarf, also a present from the Queen. The cluster of pearls, as on the Drake Jewel, was a favourite form of ornament for Renaissance pendants. In the National Portrait Gallery is a portrait of Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk (father of Lady Jane Grey), wearing a George of the Order of the Garter, below which is hung a pearl cluster and a large pear-shaped pearl attached. A similar pendant, like a bunch of grapes, serves to enrich another fine jewel of this time -the Barbor Jewel in the Victoria and Albert Museum. In the centre of this jewel is a beautifully cut cameo portrait in sardonyx of Queen Elizabeth in a frame of translucent blue and green on opaque white enamel, set alternately with rubies and table diamonds. According to a family tradition, Mr. William Barbor, who had been condemned to be burned at the stake in Smithfield for his religion, had this jewel made to commemorate his deliverance through the death of Queen Mary and the accession of Elizabeth (Pl. XXXV, 4). The Museum at South Kensington exhibits another pendant of the same period, the property of Miss Wild. It is of gold, of open scrollwork, enamelled, and set with rubies and diamonds, and with pearl drops. It has in the centre a turquoise cameo of Queen Elizabeth. The sheen of the pearls with the rich red of the foiled rubies and the dark lustre of the diamonds in their old irregular setting, combine with the lightness and delicacy of the goldwork touched with coloured enamel to render this little pendant one of the most attractive objects of its kind in existence. In addition to its artistic beauty, the jewel is of interest from the tradition that it was given as a christening present by Queen Elizabeth to its first owner, by whose descendants it has been preserved to the present day. Amongst other examples in that important group of jewels which were apparently intended either as special rewards to naval officers or simply as complimentary presents from the Queen to Court favourites, the finest are the Phœnix Jewel in the British Museum, a jewel belonging to Mr. Pierpont Morgan, and one in the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum, Milan. The Phœnix Jewel, bequeathed to the British Museum by Sir Hans Sloane in 1753, has as a central ornament a gold bust of Queen Elizabeth cut from a gold medal known as the Phœnix Badge of the year 1574, bearing on the reverse the device of a phœenix amid flames. It is enclosed in an enamelled wreath set on both sides with red, white, and variegated roses symbolising the union of the Houses of York and Lancaster. The roses, of translucent red and opaque white enamel, and the leaves, of translucent green on engraved ground, are attached to stalks covered with lighter green opaque enamel (Pl. XXXV, 1). The workmanship of this jewel is extremely fine, and on a level in point of excellence with the Eliott-Drake pendant and with Mr. Pierpont Morgan’s Armada Jewel. Of the last-named—a splendid production of an English goldsmith of the Elizabethan period—it is impossible to speak with adequate praise. Like the Phœnix Jewel, it is modelled upon a contemporary medal, though in an entirely different style. Upon the front is a profile bust of Queen Elizabeth from the Personal or Garter badge of 1582, upon an enamelled ground of aventurine blue, inscribed with the royal title. The opposite side forms a locket containing a miniature of Elizabeth by Hilliard dated 1580, and covered with a lid enamelled with translucent colourson the outside with the Ark and the motto SAEVAS TRANQUILLA PER UNDAS (as on the “Naval Award Medal” of 1588), and on the inside with the Tudor rose and a laudatory Latin motto—the same as appears round the reverse of the Phœenix Badge of 1574, which refers to Elizabeth with a regret “that virtue endued with so much beauty should not uninjured enjoy perpetual life.” The jewel is bordered by strapwork à jour of opaque blue and white enamel set with table diamonds and rubies. This exquisite object, which is in the highest possible state of preservation, and retains its fine enamel entirely uninjured, was sold at Messrs. Christie’s in July, 1902, for the large sum of £5,250 (Pl. XXXIV, 5, 6). The third jewel of this class, also undoubtedly English, is in the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum at Milan. It has in the centre a mother-of-pearl medallion with the Ark carved in low relief, of the same design as on the Morgan Jewel and the 1588 medal, surrounded by the like inscription—SAEVAS TRANQVILA PER VNDAS—in gold on white enamel, and encircled by a band of table-cut rubies. The edge is enamelled with translucent red and green, and opaque white enamel (Pl. XXXV, 3). The Ark floating tranquilly amid violent waves is emblematic of the fortunes of England, or possibly of Elizabeth, who, according to the legend PER TOT DISCRIMINA RERUM which appears on the back of the jewel, had sailed triumphantly through many dangers. No account of this important object has previously been published, nor has its nationality up to the present been noticed, or at any rate recorded. The front opens on a hinge, and shows that the pendant was intended as a miniature case—though the miniature is missing. In the times of Elizabeth and her successor miniature cases were among the most important of pendent jewels. Quite a number have survived, chiefly on account of the miniatures they enclose. Contemporary portraits show the manner in which they were worn. In the catalogue of Charles I’s collections a miniature of Queen Elizabeth is thus described : “Queen Elizabeth … very richly adorned with gold and pearls, and a picture-box hanging at her right breast.” Such “picture boxes,” with backs elaborately enamelled by the champlevé method, leaving only thin outlines of gold of scroll design, and hinged fronts of open-work, enamelled and set with precious stones, are among the presents which appear to have been frequently conferred as marks of recognition on favourite courtiers or subjects. It is impossible to enumerate all the various examples in public and private collections. The Victoria and Albert Museum possesses one of the best, and a beautiful specimen is preserved at Windsor Castle164 (Pl. XXVIII, 5). A description of a third jewel of the kind, the “Lyte Jewel,” will be given subsequently (p. 303). Besides the enamelled and jewelled pendants there are various medals (some of which have been alluded to) suspended by a ring or chain and worn as badges by those who were personally attached to the Queen; and to the time of James I belong numerous references to medals of gold with the “King’s Majestie’s phisnomy” on them, mostly the work of his goldsmith, John Williams, and presented to various foreigners in official positions. Space does not permit of detailed description of the wonderful Lennox or Darnley Jewel at Windsor Castle, purchased by Queen Victoria at the sale of Horace Walpole’s collection at Strawberry Hill in 1842 (Pl. XXVIII, 4). The jewel has been fully described by Mr. Tytler and Mr. Albert Way.165 It has been impossible here to convey an adequate idea of all the various specimens of sixteenth-century pendants that exist at the present day. Attention has been drawn to a few of the most striking examples which stand out above the rest, either by reason of the beauty of their design or the superlative excellence of their workmanship, or by reason of their unique historical interest. While indicating the great public collections where these things are preserved, it must be left to amateurs to discover and appreciate for themselves, as they are bound to do, what, owing to exigencies of space, we are precluded from referring to in detail.
CHAPTER XXVIII
RENAISSANCE RINGS, BRACELETS, AND BROOCHES
The splendour-loving sixteenth century far surpassed the Middle Ages in the use of the finger ring. No other ornament of the Renaissance attained such richness and profusion. In sixteenth and seventeenth century portraits rings are represented in such quantities that the hands appear overburdened with them; while the number entered in the old inventories is astounding. Yet it is well to remember that the word bague, which we translate a ring, was a general term for all pendent jewels—though not infrequently a distinction in the lists is drawn between bague à mettre aux oreilles (an earring), bague à pendre (a pendant), and bague à mettre au doigt. The extraordinary abundance of finger rings in use at the time may best be judged by a list in the inventory of Henry VIII of the year 1530, which contains no less than 234. Of the large number of Renaissance rings that have survived to the present day most are of a purely ornamental character; and though many others are of interest on account of their emblematic or historical associations, those which display artistic work require the chief consideration. Out of all the rings that simply served the purpose of decoration, there are very few whose nationality can be easily determined. If it is difficult in the case of pendants and similar ornaments to come to a decision with regard to the question of provenance, it is even more so where rings are concerned. Pictures of the period, as has been said, represent persons with their hands heavily loaded with rings. which are worn upon all the fingers, the thumb included. Every finger-joint up to the very nail is covered with them, and they are worn, as by the ancient Romans, even upon the knuckles. The great projection of the rings’ bezels would have rendered the use of gloves impossible, were it not, as we know from pictures, for the custom of placing the rings outside the gloves, and also for the somewhat ugly fashion of slitting the fingers of the gloves, in order that they might be worn with greater comfort, and allow the rings themselves to be displayed. In a portrait of a lady by Lucas Cranach in the National Gallery, rings are worn both over and beneath the gloves, every finger and the thumbs having two or three. The rings under the gloves appear on the top of the second knuckle of every finger, and are visible through the crevés made in the gloves at these points. In other pictures by this artist, such as that entitled “Judith” at Vienna, and in the works of his contemporaries in Germany, the same slashed gloves are to be seen. Men’s gloves, too, like their doublets, were slashed, as is clear from the engraved portrait of Duke William of Juliers, by Aldegrever. Bishop Hall (Satives, III, iv) refers thus to the current fashion: Nor can good Myson wear on his left hond. A signet ring of Bristol diamond,166 But he must cut his glove to show his pride, That his trim jewel might be better spy’d. The tendency of placing the stone in a very high bezel was a tradition from the Middle Ages, where a préference had always been shown for the stone being so set. The ornamental rings of the Renaissance followed a uniform outline as far as their bezels and settings were concerned. They contained, as a rule, one stone only, backed by a foil or paillon, and set in a boxlike collet, square and pyramidal, and closed behind. The gold was rubbed over the setting edge of the stone, and the four side surfaces then decorated in a variety of ways by the application of enamel, and sometimes overlaid with an additional ornamentation in imitation of claws. The stone itself, usually table-cut, was frequently a ruby. One peculiar variety of ring, known from the early part of the fifteenth century, is deserving of note. Its design was founded upon the natural octahedrite shape of the diamond, and was distinguished by a very high bezel, which received one half of the octahedron and allowed the other to project upwards. Rings set thus with pointed diamonds were in high favour until the middle of the seventeenth century, and were employed for writing upon glass—a practice which appears to have been much in vogue. The most characteristic examples of the diamante in punta were those adopted by the Medici as their device. Three diamond rings interlaced were employed by Cosimo (d. 1464); Piero took one diamond ring held in the claw of a falcon; Lorenzo continued the device of the ring, in which he placed three feathers. The best-known representations of these three devices are figured in Paolo Giovio’s Dialogo dell’ imprese. In addition to the case for the stone, the sides or “shoulders” of the ring which held it were the subject of special artistic development. They took the form of small figures, winged creatures, masks, and other ornaments in relief and richly enamelled; while for smooth surfaces champlevé enamel was employed in a variety of designs. So extraordinarily elaborate is the work on some of these rings that it would almost seem as if they were produced rather as examples of the skill of the craftsman than as objects for actual use. Several old portraits exhibit rings strung upon men’s necklaces, or hung from a thin cord round the neck. A portrait by Mabuse, in the Berlin Gallery, shows a ring worn thus, and in two portraits by Lucas Cranach—one at Weimar, representing Johann Friedrich of Saxony attired as a bridegroom, and the other at Dresden, of the Elector Johann the Constant of Saxony (1526)—rings are hung similarly round the neck. Rings were also worn in the hat. A particularly striking example of this fashion is seen in the portrait of Bernhard III, Margrave of Baden, 1515, by Hans Baldung Grien, in the Pinakothek, Munich. Around his cap is fixed a thick wire-shaped band of gold, with a strip of cloth wound spirally round it. The latter serves to fix at regular intervals four gold rings, three of them set with cabochon stones and the fourth with a pointed diamond. A similar kind of decoration is alluded to in Gabriel Harvey’s Letter Book, 1574 (Camden Society, 1884, p. 145), where a servant is mentioned carrying to a maiden an enamelled posy ring which his master had worn sewn upon his hat. The rings worn thus were in many cases betrothal or engagement rings; but those that served this purpose generally assumed special forms, and were among the most ingenious productions of the time. They were composed of twin or double hoops, and known as gimmel rings. The outer side of the two hoops was convex and elaborately ornamented, while the inner side was flat and often bore some inscription. The two hoops were wrought so exactly alike, that, together with the stones, they appeared to be one ring, yet could be separated, and the one hung from the other. Their bezels were occasionally formed of clasped hands. Ordinary one-hoop rings also bore the same design and were known as “fede” rings. Another kind of betrothal or engagement ring was the “posy” or “poesie” ring, generally of simple form, with a verse. à name, or a motto engraved inside it. The posy ring, suitably inscribed, was also used as a wedding-ring The simple posy ring belongs, however, chiefly to the seventeenth century. The elaborate betrothal ring seems to have been employed at this time as a wedding. ring as well. It was reserved for modern times to give the wedding-ring its smooth, convenient, but artistically unimportant form. Widely distributed among the North German peasantry are certain peculiar weddingrings, which, as a rule, contain a couple of the heartshaped milk-teeth of the young roe-buck, with a small lock from which hang two keys—a symbol which perhaps not inaptly indicates the union of two pure hearts. Dating from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but wholly different from the Renaissance form of ring, and very large and elaborate, are the Jewish wedding rings, which were used only at the ceremony and then preserved by the family. They are composed of a broad band adorned with filigree (probably in keeping with some ancient Oriental tradition) arranged in bosses and rosettes and enriched with light blue, light green, and other enamel. In place of a bezel there is often the model of a building with high gabled roofs and enamelled tiles, pierced by windows, and having movable weathercocks on the apex; an inscription in Hebrew characters on the shank contains the motto “Good star.” It was the custom to arrange finger rings upon a rod when not in use or when exposed for exhibition in the jeweller’s shop, and in paintings it is no uncommon thing to see a line of rings of various patterns run on what appears to be a roll of parchment; as in the annexed illustration—a cut from a Herbal published at Frankfort in 1536. Rings arranged thus may be seen in Ghirlandaio’s portrait of Costanza de Medici, belonging to Mr. Salting; in the “Legend of St. Godeberta” by Petrus Christus; in Gerard David’s portrait of a goldsmith at Vienna; in the “Banker and his Wife” by Quentin Matsys in the Louvre, and in similar pictures where a jeweller or a banker is represented. In Henry VIII’s inventory of 1527 we find: “Upon a finger-stall, seven rings, one a ruby, another an emerald, and a turquoise, another a table diamond, another a triangular diamond, another a rocky diamond”; also in 1530. “A roll with thirty-nine Paris rings, with small stones.” In the Duke of Newcastle’s comedy The Country Captain (1649) mention is made of an extravagant person “who makes his fingers like jewellers’ cards to set rings upon. In the Pinakothek, Munich, is a most interesting picture by Paris Bordone representing a jeweller with a quantity of his treasures lying on a table before him. Every item is painted with extreme care. Twelve massive finger rings, arranged in three rows of four, are displayed in an oblong ring-box, just in the same manner as one might expect to find them in a jeweller’s shop of the present day. A somewhat similar picture by Lorenzo Lotto, in the Kaufmann Collection in Berlin, represents a jeweller holding in his left hand a box full of rings and in his right a single specimen. By far the most attractive of the fine engravings of jewellery by Pierre Woeiriot of Lorraine is his beautiful set of rings published in 1561 under the title of Livre d’aneaux d’orfévrerie. M. Foulc, of Paris, is generally credited with the possession of the only complete set of these engravings. A perfect specimen of the work is, however, preserved in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, to which it was bequeathed by the well-known antiquary Francis Douce in 1834. It comprises forty plates, each containing one or more rings to the number of ninety-six, and furnishes striking examples of the taste and inventive genius then bestowed on these minute objects. Nevertheless, engravings can convey but small idea of the colour effect, and the wonderful charm that the actual rings possess. In order to fully appreciate them, one must visit the three great English collections of them now accessible to the public: the South Kensington Collection, containing the greater part of that formed by Edmund Waterton; the Drury Fortnum Collection in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford; and above all, the collection in the British Museum, which includes the splendid series bequeathed by Sir A. W. Franks, in which were absorbed the Braybrooke, Londesborough, and some minor cabinets, together with the best from the Soden Smith Collection, as well as the choicest from the Pichon and from many foreign sales.
BRACELETS
The bracelet during this period plays a scarcely more prominent part than it did in the Middle Ages, and probably owing to the same reason; for in Renaissance times the fashion of leaving the arms bare was not in favour, and the long sleeves that fell over the hand were retained. A few examples presented by pictures lead to the supposition that bracelets consisted of beads of amber or jet separated by balls of gold, or of rows of cameos. Catarina Cornaro in her portrait by Titian in the Uffizi wears a bracelet upon her wrist over the sleeve, while the portrait of a lady by Cranach in the National Gallery shows that the sleeves were occasionally slashed at the wrists to exhibit the bracelets beneath them, just as were the fingers of gloves for the purpose of displaying rings. Inventories supply a certain amount of information concerning bracelets. Henry VIII in 1530 possessed seventeen, including one of “Paris work, with jacynths; and one with eight diamonds, eight rubies, fourteen pearls, and a diamond rose.” Elizabeth received a large number of bracelets amongst her New Year’s gifts. In the inventory of Mary Stuart’s jewels are “Une paire de brasseletz garniz de cornaline lappines et agate et entredeux de doubles—Une aultre paire de brasseletz damatiste—Ung bracelet fait a facon de serpent. Others are formed, as were necklaces, of beads of filigree enclosing perfumes: “ Deux braceletz dor percez a jour pleins de parfum—Une aultre paire dor a jour empliz de parfum.” References to bracelets by writers of the period show that they were not infrequently worn as love tokens. Thus in Beaumont and Fletcher’s Cupid’s Revenge: Given ear-rings we will wear Bracelets of our lovers’ hair, Which they on our arms shall twist With our names carv’d on our wrist. Also in Barnfield’s Affectionate Shepherd (1594) : 1 would put amber bracelets on thy wrist, Crownlets of pearls about thy naked arms, Contemporary designs prove that bracelets followed the same elaborate forms as other articles of jewellery, as may be seen from the engraved designs of Ducerceau, and the Livre de Bijouterie of René Boyvin of Angers (1530-1598). One of the most interesting bracelets—as far as actual specimens are concerned—is preserved at Berkeley Castle amongst the heirlooms bequeathed by George Carey, Lord Hunsdon, who died in 1603. It is of crystal and gold, 33/4 inches in diameter. The crystal, a complete circlet overlaid with open-work gold, is encrusted all round with rubies, and has at intervals four clusters of rubies around a sapphire (Pl. XXXV, 5). It is somewhat difficult to arrive at a decision as to the origin of this remarkable object. It seems to bear traces of Oriental influence in the setting of the stones, though the goldwork is of different quality from what one would expect to find in Indian work. If, like the “nef” jewel at Berkeley, this armlet is to be associated with Sir Francis Drake, it may well have been obtained by him as part of some Spanish spoil, in like manner to the “crystal bracelet set in gold” procured by Sir Matthew Morgan at the capture of Cadiz in 1596—Cadiz being then the staple town for all the trades of the Levant and of the Indies.167 Bracelets formed of cameos are met with sometimes on portraits. The Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris preserves a pair of bracelets (Nos. 624 and 625) formed each of seven oval shell cameos representing figures of animals, enclosed in gold mounting enriched with blue enamel, and hinged together by a double chain ornamented with rosettes enamelled green. On the under side of the larger cameos which form the clasps are two interlacing C’s within a wreath of palm and olive. enamelled green, and a barred S in blue enamel at each angle. These bracelets, of which the cameos as well as the mountings are of fine sixteenth-century work, have been traditionally associated with Diana of Poitiers. But the interlaced C’s, according to M. Babelon, are in all probability the initials of some lady of the family of Harlay, from whom the bracelets were acquired by Louis XIV (Pl. XXXVII, 3, 4). Bracelets, like necklaces, were not infrequently composed entirely of gold, with interwoven links, like mail chains. A chain bracelet of this style, formed of circular fluted links, is in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Its clasp is enriched with a floral pattern in translucent champlevé enamel (Pl. XXXVII, 1). Three similar bracelets forming part of the Holtzendorff treasure from Pinnow (Ucker-Mark, N. Germany) are in the Germanic Museum, Nuremberg. They are composed of circular links, and have flat clasps like the bracelet just mentioned, ornamented with coats of arms in enamel. One of them bears the date 1612.
BROOCHES
One of the most important of ornaments throughout the Middle Ages was the brooch; but towards the end of the fifteenth century the mode of wearing garments changed, and the cotehardi having replaced the mantle, brooches disappeared little by little, till in Renaissance times they were rarely employed, except as ornaments for the hat. It is true that sixteenthcentury inventories contain an immense number of owches and brooches—Henry VIII had no less than 324—but nearly all these, the larger ones especially, were worn as enseignes upon the hat; while the smaller were employed not as dress fasteners, but simply as ornaments sewn or pinned at regular intervals upon the front of the dress or the borders of the sleeves. A single elaborate jewelled brooch is sometimes seen in pictures attached to the upper part of the sleeve. We see it thus on the figure of Arithmetic in Pinturicchio’s famous fresco in the Appartamento Borgia of the Vatican, and later in English pictures, notably the well-known painting in Sherborne Castle, Dorset, representing Queen Elizabeth’s procession in litter to Blackfriars in 1600, where the ladies of her retinue have jewels fastened to the sleeves of their right arms. The garments of this period were not fastened by means of brooches, but were closed with buttons or points, or with hooks and eyes. Sleeves were often held on by buttons to which the sleeve-loops or points were tied, while other portions of the clothing, especially if of leather and cumbersome to button, were secured with loops or hooks and eyes. The slashings of the dress were sometimes closed by buttons or pompoms formed of stones surrounded by pearls. Similar button-like ornaments, jewelled and richly enamelled, of which examples exist, were worn in rows all over the dress, but their delicate form and often irregular shape exclude the supposition that they were used as actual buttons. Of ornaments of this kind Mary Queen of Scots possessed a large number: thus— “Quatre vingtz bouttons dor esmaillez de blanc et noir garniz de chacune une perle.” Others mentioned in her inventory are “à rose garniz de chacun trois perles”; others again are “percez à jour esmaillez de noir.” These individual jewelled ornaments, which it was the practice to sew on the dress at regular intervals by way of trimming, may be treated as distinct from ornamentation which formed part of the actual costume, such as masses of pearls and precious stones, with which dresses were literally loaded. Individual jewels often took the form of the monogram, crest, or device of the owner, in pure gold richly decorated. A curious instance of this custom has already been alluded to in connection with what occurred during the masque given by Henry VIII at Westminster. The fashion for wearing ornaments in the form of jewelled initials was still in vogue on the quilted dresses of the time of James I. Anne of Denmark is represented in her portraits wearing them both on her ruff and in her hair, and a “jewel, in form of an A and two CC, sett with diamonds” and others of similar kind are to be found in the lists of jewels supplied to the Queen by George Heriot. Except occasionally for buttons, the chief means employed for fastening the garments was by aigulets or aglets. These ornamental loops or eyelets, formed of cords terminating with goldsmith’s work, were moyable and were changed from one dress to another according to pleasure. They are seen in pictures hanging not only from slashes and various parts of the garments, but also from the cap; and Henry VIII is described as wearing a cap ornamented with gold enamelled tags. His daughter, the Princess Mary, was supplied in 1542 by her jeweller, Mabell, with two dozen pairs of agletts. Mary Stuart had a number, such as: “Soixante cinq esguillettes dor facon de cheuilles sans esmail,”  “Soixante une esguilletes dor et de perle esmaillez de rouge,” and “Quatre vingtz dixhuict esguillette dor esmaillez de blanc et noir.” Queen Elizabeth possessed several sets, of different colours and patterns—some gold enamelled white, some blue, others purple, and some enriched with pearls and precious stones. These jewelled aglets are now extremely rare, and are not represented in any public collection.
CHAPTER XXIX
RENAISSANCE GIRDLES AND GIRDLE PENDANTS
(MIRRORS, BOOKS, WATCHES, SCENT-CASES, AND POMANDERS)
The girdle is an important ornament in the dress of the Renaissance. From the beginning of the sixteenth century it differs considerably from the mediæval pattern already discussed. In place of the stiff hoop about the hips, it was worn loosely across the body from above the right hip down towards the left thigh, where the upper garment was passed over it in a light fold. At this point was the clasp, from which hung numerous small articles necessary to the active housewife. Another style of wearing it, which appears to have been adopted for more sumptuous dress, was one where it more firmly encircled the body, and from a clasp in front, hung down in a long end, terminating in a special ornamental appendage—a scent-case or pomander. The common material was leather or stuff, such as was employed for men’s girdles. The long and narrow thong of leather, termed courroye, was worn by all classes. Rows of such girdles are figured in the background of Jost Ammans well-known woodcut of the ceinturier in his workshop, of the year 1594. The majority of Renaissance girdles, confined solely to female attire, were made entirely of silver or silver gilt, and even of silvered or gilded bronze. They took the form of flat chains composed of links, generally with solid pieces in the shape of oblong plaques, of cast or chased work, introduced at regular intervals. The solid parts, particularly those that formed the clasps, were occasionally enriched with enamels, precious stones, or engraved gems. The majority of collections contain specimens of such girdles; but simpler kinds, composed entirely of ring-shaped links, which, judging from numerous Flemish, Dutch, and German portraits, must have been in very general use in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, are much less frequently met with. A good example of such, a chain in silver-gilt, of German work of the second half of the sixteenth century, is preserved in the Musée du Cinquantenaire at Brussels. It is formed of rounded grooved links. At one end is a rosette-shaped girdle plate set with a white crystal, and having a hook behind to catch into any link of the chain. The other end terminates in a pear-shaped pomander 3½ inches long, and divided for the reception of different cosmetics into two parts, united by a screw from below. A considerable number of girdles of leather or strips of material are found mounted after the mediæval style with buttons or studs, and instead of clasps, have buckles at one end, and at the other the pendants or chapes common in earlier times. It is not unusual to meet with girdles of Flemish or German work which, though dating from the latter part of the seventeenth century, are ornamented with Gothic patterns. The buckle and pendant (mordant), deeply pierced with open-work tracery of flamboyant design, are generally united by only a short thong, and are so overcharged with ornament that it is doubtful if they could have been of any practical use. Such objects appear in reality to be but specimens of their work submitted by girdlers who were desirous of obtaining admission to the Girdlers’ Company. They serve to show how long-lived were Gothic traditions among the guilds. Examples in silver or bronze gilt are to be found in the Germanic Museum, Nuremberg, the Victoria and Albert Museum (No. 2304-55), the Waddesdon Bequest (No. 226), dated 1680, the Wallace Collection (No. 783), dated 1709, and in many other public collections (Pl. XXXVIII, 3). A number of articles, both useful and ornamental, were suspended from the girdle. For practical purposes the housewife carried at her side, besides a knife, such objects as small scissors in a case, a purse, and also her keys. Cases or étuis for knives were attached either by silken cords or by chains. When cords were employed the cover of the étui was furnished with loops on each side through which the cords slid. Open quiver-like sheaths for knives hung by chains were often worn, in order to display the rich decoration of the knife-heads. The Italianate costume, such as is found in the type of “Vanity” in emblem books of the age, and which made its way everywhere, favoured the addition of many other accessories to the girdles, such as fans, gloves, looking-glasses, books, watches, scent-cases, and pomanders. Mirrors, besides being worn from the neck, formed, as did miniature-cases, a frequent pendant from the girdle. These were either in a frame of ivory or goldsmith’s work, or inserted in the fan. Stubbes, the censor of the follies of his day, speaks of the looking-glasses which ladies carried with them “wheresoever they go.” Etienne (Stephanus) Delaune has left eight engraved designs for hand mirrors of great beauty. Their handles terminate with small rings for attachment by a chain to the girdle. In the Louvre is an interesting pendent mirror-case, or rather back of a mirror, formed of an oval plaque of glass encrusted with designs in enamel on gold (émail en vésille sur verre),168 bearing the inscription “Grace dedans, le lis-ha.” Small books, mainly devotional, were also worn at the girdle. It appears to have been a common practice for ladies to carry such books, and in Lyly’s Euphues mention is made of “the English damoselles who have theyr bookes tyed to their gyrdles.” Queen Elizabeth had several. Amongst the “juelles given to her Majestie at Newyere’s-tyde,” 1582, was “a litle boke of golde enamuled, garnished and furnished with smale diamondes and rubyes, with claspes, and all hanging at a chayne of golde.” The inventory of the jewels of the Duchess of Somerset, widow of the Protector, in 1587, likewise contains “a booke of golde inamyled blacke.” Two drawings for small pendent books intended to be executed in niello or black enamel appear amongst Holbein’s designs for jewellery in the British Museum; and the Earl of Romney possesses a small manuscript Prayer Book in binding of enamelled gold of the same style. The most magnificent book-cover in existence, provided with loops for hanging by a chain to the girdle, is It one preserved in the Victoria and Albert Museum. is of enamelled, repoussé gold, and has been ascribed to Cellini. Of less beauty, though of great interest as an example of English work, is the gold binding of a pendent Prayer Book in the British Museum. The subjects on the sides, raised and enamelled, are the Brazen Serpent, and the Judgment of Solomon, with English inscriptions around. It is said to be the work of George Heriot of Edinburgh;169 and there is a tradition that it was worn by Queen Elizabeth. Whatever associations this object may have had with Elizabeth, there is better authority for such with regard to the small book of prayers, the property of Lord Fitzhardinge, and one of the Hunsdon heirlooms. This very interesting English jewel, measuring 24 by 2 inches, is of gold, inlaid with black enamel, with a rosette of white enamel at each corner. The centre of one cover is decorated with translucent red and green enamel, that of the other with a shell cameo. It contains the last prayer of King Edward VI in MS. written on vellum. The title runs: “The Prayer of Kynge Edward the VI which he made the vj of Julij, 1553, and the vij yere of his raigne, iij howres before his dethe, to him selfe, his eyes being closed, and thinkinge none had herd him, the xvj yere of his age.” The book was worn by Queen Elizabeth at her girdle, and came into the Berkeley family through her cousin, Lord Hunsdon (Pl. XXXV, 7). The Earl of Leicester, it is recorded, presented Queen Elizabeth on New Year’s Day, 1581, with a long gold chain set with diamonds and “hanging thereat a rounde clocke fullie garnished with dyamondes, and an appendante of diamondes hanging thearat.” Though occasionally worn thus suspended from the neck-chain, watches appear to have been more frequently carried at the girdle—a position somewhat similar to that which they subsequently occupied upon the chatelaine. The honour of the invention of portable timepieces is probably due to Peter Henlein, of Nuremberg, in the last quarter of the fifteenth century, but it was not till a century later that they came into anything like general use. The cases, which received the same beautiful enrichment in the way of enamel-work and precious stones as was bestowed on other personal ornaments of the time, were made à jour to emit the sound of the ticking and striking, and the lid was pierced with an aperture over each hour, through which the position of the hand might be seen. The makers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries endeavoured to vary as much as possible both the figure of the machine and the material in which it was placed. Not only square, oval, octagonal, and cruciform watches occur, but some in such fanciful shapes as death’s-heads, books, shells, acorns, tulips, pears, etc.; while rock crystal (to render the works visible) and other stones were often converted into cases. Oval watches, known as “Nuremberg eggs,” are usually reckoned among the earliest, but this title was not given to watches till some time after their invention, and as a matter of fact, according to Dr. Rée (Vüvnberg, p. 172), all egg-watches that have been preserved belong to the seventeenth century. In Hollar’s set of plates of the Four Seasons, dated 1641, the lady representing Summer has on her left side depending from her girdle an object of this shape, apparently a watch. The most important pendent ornament to the girdle, from the present point of view, is the pomander, the early history of which has already been alluded to. Throughout the sixteenth, and until about the middle of the century following, the pomander formed an almost invariable adjunct to the girdle, and was occasionally, in the case of men, hung to the long and heavy chains worn at that period round the neck.170 Most of the pendants still termed pomanders were, as has been already noted, in reality cases for scents or different cosmetics; but from their fruit-like shape, though often innocent of the original pomander ball, they have retained the title, but solely, it would seem, in our own language171 (Pl. XXXI, 7).
LATER AND MODERN JEWELLERY
CHAPTER XXX
SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY JEWELLERY (GENERAL)
Through the whole jewellery of the late Renaissance there runs a gradual and profound change of taste. Slowly and by imperceptible stages the earlier style, with its minute enamelled figures in high relief, gives place to a desire for sparkling diamonds, and a pleasure in the glitter of faceted stones. In the sixteenth century, diamonds, rubies, and other stones played a comparatively insignificant part in jewellery, and were prized mainly for their decorative value, but during the course of the seventeenth century à more prominent rôle was gradually conceded to precious stones. Used singly at first, in table-cut form, to give a centre of interest or a note of colour, they came finally to be arranged in juxtaposition and long rows. A complete change was brought about in the whole character of jewellery by the prominence thus given to the precious stone—a position it has retained ever since. From the commencement of the seventeenth century Germany began to lose the position which, during the greater part of the century previous, she had occupied as a jewel-producing centre; while the Thirty Years’ War, by handicapping her industries, caused the jewellers to seek employment elsewhere. It was mainly from France that the new ideas in the form of ornaments emanated. The French are fortunate in possessing separate words to distinguish different kinds of jewellery: bijouterie, a general term applied to all jewellery formed of gold, enamels, and precious stones; and joaillerie, used for jewellery composed of stones along with a minimum of metalwork. By the revolution of taste in the later days of the Renaissance the joaillier gradually superseded the bijoutier; while the two crafts of the silversmith and the jeweller replaced the ancient craft of the goldsmith. Changes in the mode of wearing clothes, and in the materials employed for them, had an enormous influence on jewellery. In place of the velvet and brocade that prevailed during the Renaissance, damask came to be worn, together with an extravagant taste for lace and ribbons. The wearing of the silken stuffs that began to be issued from the factories of Lyons, and of the lace that formed their accompaniment, necessitated the use of ornaments more in keeping with these materials; with the result that the jewellery of the period assumed an open and lace-like character, suitable also for the display of precious stones. At first coloured stones were used—the ruby, sap phire, and the emerald; but soon the diamond held sole possession of the field. In Renaissance ornaments this latter gem played only a secondary part, and was employed solely for the sake of contrast, but it now appeared as the chief object in view, and formed the ornament by itself, all other parts of the jewel, the setting, and possible addition of other stones, being wholly subordinate to it. For the first general employment of the diamond in jewellery one must look back to the fifteenth century, to the invention of the art of cutting that stone, which is generally credited, in spite of Laborde’s opinion to the contrary, to Louis de Berghem of Bruges in the year 1475. From that date until the beginning of the seventeenth century, every diamond, as is seen both by jewels and their designs, was one of two forms: either the “point,” a four-sided pyramid produced by polishing the faces of the native octahedral crystal of diamond and making them exactly true and regular; or the “table,” in which the point of the crystal is reduced to a square or oblong plane, the opposite extremity being also in plane form, but of smaller extent, with sloping faceted edges. This simple cutting did so little to augment the brilliance of the diamond that the jewellers of the sixteenth century had to depend on the tinctura or foiling of the stone, in which art Cellini in his treatise, with his characteristic appreciation of his own merits, tells us that he particularly excelled. The change of taste in the seventeenth century may be attributed to the opening up of the diamond fields of Golconda on the southern borders of the State of Hyderabad, at the beginning of that century, and to the enterprise of the French travellers, Tavernier, Chardin, and others, who, during their frequent voyages to Persia and India, dealt largely in precious stones. These travellers succeeded in establishing new commercial relations, which led to the introduction into Europe of abundance of precious stones and particularly diamonds; while the narratives of their journeys, furnishing more exact knowledge of the quality and value of the products of the East, attracted towards precious stones a new interest. Owing to the abundance of material imported from the East, the market for precious stones assumed an entirely different aspect; while the quantity and beauty of the material thus at their disposal spurred on the stone-cutters towards the improvement of their technique, until at the end of the century they arrived at the true cutting of the diamond. Besides the “point,” which was but rarely used, the table-cut diamond alone was employed until the commencement of the seventeenth century. About that time there came into use the “rose,” a half-crystal, flat at the base and with a convex top covered with a number of small facets. Stones faceted in this manner were at first mostly small and unimportant and cut very irregularly into four or six facets. Between the years 1641 and 1643, Cardinal Mazarin, a great lover of the diamond, is said to have encouraged the promotion of experiments by the Dutch lapidaries which led to the true rose cutting. Anyhow, a more systematic method of faceting in sixteen facets—the taille en seize—began to be employed about that time. This process, though it left much to be desired, was an immense improvement, and set forth the qualities of the stone in a way that had not been possible by the forms previously in use. “Roses,” together with “tables,” as the designs of Gilles Légaré and his contemporaries show, lasted until the invention of the “brilliant” at the commencement of the eighteenth century by the Venetian, Vincenzo Peruzzi, though rose cutting was popular for some time after, and is still used for certain stones. The “rose” leaped into fashion at its first appearance, and the taste for diamonds and other precious stones seems to have dominated under Louis XIII and Louis XIV, when they became the principal objects in jewellery. Gold was worked into the form of garlands, flowers, and all sorts of designs for the purpose of mounting precious stones and setting off their beauty. The enormous increase of luxury in this direction was entirely in keeping with the whole conception of an absolute monarchy as developed by Louis XIV, who made it the duty of the grandees of France and Spain to wear their whole property, in the form of glittering gems, and to carry the value of lands and forests upon their own and their wives’ apparel when they appeared before the eyes of their sovereign. Though actual examples of the seventeenth-century jewellery are rare, at any rate in public collections, we can become acquainted with its characteristics by the numerous prints bequeathed by the goldsmiths and draughtsmen of the time. These prints, like those of the sixteenth century, were not invariably the work of their designers, since it was no uncommon practice for the master-goldsmith to have his designs multiplied for use in his own workshop, and for general circulation, by placing them in the hands of an engraver. As a rule the nationalities of existing jewels may be in some measure determined by means of the designs from which they were executed. But it is often difficult to make clear distinctions in this manner, owing to the continual artistic interchange which brought the fashions of one place to another, and caused the methods and ideas of the craftsmen to become common property. The bi-lingual inscriptions which one finds on the frontispieces of many of the pattern-books or sets of designs then published, prove that they were intended for international use. The first attempts to base the composition of the ornament exclusively upon the effect of stones arranged in definite forms, without granting the setting of the plastic metal any independent part, are found in some of the prints of Daniel Mignot, of the year 1590. Mignot, probably of French extraction, was a goldsmith of Augsburg, where between the years 1590 and 1616 he produced a number of highly important designs for jewellery, which form a link between the old and the newer styles. While following the artists of the late sixteenth century in the representation of figure designs in cartouche-shaped ornaments formed of flat strapwork curves characteristic of the older school, he presents engravings of pendants, earrings, and aigrettes, in which the stones are set in juxtaposition. That the transition to the newer forms was slow, is shown in the works of the goldsmith-engraver of Amsterdam, whose models for pendants, signed with the initials P.R.K., and dated 1609 and 1617, are formed of elaborate open scrollwork of tendril design, almost destitute of stones. Exhibiting features more in keeping with those of Mignot are the designs of Paul They Birckenhultz of Frankfort-on-the-Main (1617). are of fine quality, and take the form of aigrettes and earrings set with precious stones, and elaborate oval pendants terminating with pearls and ornamented with scroll ornaments intended for execution in enamel (Pl. XL, 4). Birckenhultz is the last of the German school of designers to model his work on the productions of the sixteenth-century masters. Henceforth one must look for designs chiefly to France, where an entirely new type of ornament for jewellery, such as is found in no other art production of the time, was brought into existence by endeavours to associate leaf patterns with a number of stones. Its characteristic is the use of a sort of pea-pod or husk ornament, termed Schotenornamentik in German, and known generally by the French name of genre cosse de pois (pea-pod style). In the designs of the time this formal ornament is largely employed for elaborate aigrettes; but owing to the jewels executed from such designs having been set with stones, the result has been that change of fashion has suffered scarcely a jewelled example to survive. As a consequence, the objects existing at the present day chiefly represent enamelled miniature-cases and pendants. The number and variety of engraved designs for this kind of ornament in the form of jewelled bouquets or palmettes, chiefly for aigrettes, dating from the first half of the seventeenth century is surprising, considering that it remained a comparatively short time in use. One of the chief advocates of this style is Pierre Marchant, who worked in Paris about 1623. His rare designs for aigrettes, and wreaths for the borders of pendants, are most graceful, and show a form of leaf ornament which is extremely happily adapted for materials in which the precious stone had to play a prominent part (p. 306). Another Frenchman who employed it is Pierre Labarre (1630), goldsmith to Louis XIV, who, together with a well-known jeweller, Julien Defontaine, had apartments in the Louvre. Amongst other French designers were Jacques Caillard (1627), Baltasar Lemersier (1626-1630), Claude Rivard (1592-1650), François Lefebure (1635. 1661), and Gédéon Légaré (1615-1676), to whom as “orfévre – esmailleur,” together with Pierre Bain Louis XIV in 1671, on the suggestion of Colbert, granted quarters in the Louvre. Designs of the same nature were executed in Strasburg by P. Symony (1621) and Hans Mosbach (1626), and in Holland by Jacques Honervogt (1625). The foregrounds or bases of nearly all these engravings are remarkable for the landscapes and for the quaint and vigorous genre figures in the style of the painter-engraver, Jacques Callot, that enliven them. Of all the goldsmiths of the time the best known is Gilles Légaré of Chaumont-en-Bassigny, who was jeweller to Louis XIV, and worked in Paris about 1663. His series of designs, entitled Livre des Ouvrages d’Orfévrerie, is perhaps the most interesting of the kind produced during the seventeenth century. These fine compositions, when formed of precious stones, show knots and interlacings for clasps, pendants, and earrings, in which diamonds are fully displayed in rose-cut forms. As models for objects not composed entirely of stones, we find seals, rings, bracelets, and chains decorated with ribbons and bows mingled with monograms, and emblems, such as death’s-heads. Together with these appear tasteful arrangements for enamel-work in the form of natural flowers of great charm and delicacy. To these last reference will be made later. Contemporary with Légaré was the painter and engraver Balthazar Moncornet, who worked at Rouen and Paris. His book of designs, of which he was probably the inventor as well as engraver, entitled Livre nouveau de toutes sortes d’ouvrages d’orfévries, was published about 1670.172 The jewels, in the form of pendants, earrings, and brooches, are composed of stones set in various ways; the last plate is a miniature portrait of Louis XIV set as a brooch. All his designs are accompanied by garlands of natural flowers. Complete as was the change which was brought about owing to the prominence given to the precious stone, it must not be supposed that the enameller’s art was by any means neglected. Though it cannot be compared with that in the best productions of the Renaissance, the enamel-work applied to seventeenth-century jewellery is, nevertheless, worthy of close attention. Enamel executed by the champlevé method was much employed. The technical process known as champlevé was performed in two ways. By one method the surface of the gold was simply incised with designs, and the grooves thus made filled with enamel. By another method only thin lines of the metal were reserved to form the design, and the remainder of the field cut out to receive the enamel. This latter system sembles in appearance the well-known cloisonné; but the metal strips that form the partitions between the enamel, instead of being inserted, are a solid part of the metal base. Commonly employed on jewellery from the middle of the sixteenth century, it remained in general favour, together with the simpler form of champlevé, till about the third decade of the seventeenth century, when it gave place to enamel-work of an entirely different kind. For jewellery intended to be carried out by this champlevé method, or on rare occasions to be covered with translucent enamels, we have at our service again a number of dated designs. These engravings, known as Schwarzornamente or niello ornaments, are in the nature of silhouettes. The patterns, reserved in white upon a black ground, are composed of curves of flat and broken strapwork. The designs are occasionally for complete jewels, but most of them take the form of very small motives intended as patterns for the shoulders of finger rings, or for the borders, frames, or other details of jewels. Some engraved plates are made up entirely of such motives; on other plates they appear as details, either within a complete design or upon the field outside it. Germany and the Netherlands furnish the earliest examples of these. Several dating from the latter part of the sixteenth century are by “monogrammists,” who signed their engravings with their initials, and whose names are mostly unknown—such as the German master A. C. of the year 1598. Among recognised engravers in this style are the following:—Of the German school: Arnold Jörg (1586-1596), Corvinianus Saur (1590-1597), the rare Hans Hensel of Sagan (1599), Daniel Hailler (1604), Jonas Bentzen (1615), and Daniel Mignot (1590) and P. Symony (1621), both of whom placed these motives on the field of their plates. Of the Netherlandish school is the well-known Michel Le Blon, called Blondus, goldsmith at the Court of Queen Christina of Sweden, who was born at Frankfort-on-the-Main in 1587 and died at Amsterdam in 1656. His designs in silhouette, the earliest of which, in the British Museum, is dated 1605,173 were in great demand, and appear not only on knife-handles, but on oval and octagonal box-shaped pendants — presumably watchcases. Also of the same school are: the rare master, Hans van Ghemert (1585), Hans de Bull (1590), the monogrammist P. R. K. (1609), and Guillaume de la Quewellerie of Amsterdam (1611-1635). In addition there is Giovanni Battista Costantini of Rome, who published his Ornementi per lavorare Giorje in 1622 and 1625. The French goldsmith-engravers, who produced designs in the “silhouette” manner intended for jewels that were to be enamelled by the champlevé method, include Jehan Vovert (1602), an anonymous engraver A. D. (1608), Jacques Hurtu (1614-1619), Stephanus Carteron of Châtillon (1615), Pierre Nolin (1620), and Jean Toutin (1619) and his son Henri (1628). The most important of these is the goldsmith and enameller Jean Toutin of Châteaudun, whose platessix in number, dated 1618 and 1619—are filled with charming motives for watch-cases or lockets, to be carried out in enamel. They are ornamented with patterns reserved in white on black ground in the form of trailing leaves and tendrils, partly in the “pea-pod” style, and accompanied by lively genre figures in various attitudes. Perhaps the most attractive of these plates is that which represents a jeweller—probably Toutin himself—firing a jewel which he holds in the furnace by a pair of long tongs, while above is figured a model of the actual jewel—an octagonal box-like pendant (p. 289). Toutin, who appears to have been an experimenter in enamels, is entitled to distinction as the discoverer of a new process of using them. The process consisted in covering a plate of gold or copper with an opaque monochromatic enamel, on which designs were painted with colours, opaque and fusible, and of greater variety than had previously been employed. This method of enamel painting, extensively used for jewellery, proved to be peculiarly suitable to the representation of natural flowers which came into high favour about the same time. The employment of naturalistic flower designs, as displayed on the margins of manuscripts, was one of the features of late Gothic art. The same tendency with regard to flowers was manifested on the enamelled jewellery of the fifteenth century, the most striking example of which is the wonderful necklace seen on the Flemish portrait of Maria Baroncelli in the Uffizi Gallery. Renaissance ornaments on the whole did not favour naturalistic floral patterns, though flowers enamelled in full relief are occasionally found, as on the border of the Phœnix Jewel in the British Museum. The general return in the early part of the seventeenth century to flower designs for the decoration of jewellery is associated with a curious phase in the social history of the time that accompanied the deep interest then taken in flowers and horticulture. Among flowers, of which the Dutch have ever been enthusiastically fond, and never tired of growing and of painting, the most prominent position was occupied by the tulip. From about the year 1634 the cultivation of the tulip became a perfect craze in Holland, and “Tulipomania” like a violent epidemic seized upon all classes of the community. Gambling of an almost unparalleled nature was carried on in the bulbs, and the flower became fashionable everywhere. In the bouquets which the enamellers arranged with great taste, and painted with extraordinary skill, the tulip is always prominent. This and many other flowers, and occasionally fruits, were painted in the same manner as a picture, on an enamel ground of uniform colour—generally white, and sometimes pale blue, yellow, or black. Small plaques enamelled and painted thus are popularly known by the name of “Louis Treize” enamels, though the majority of them were produced after Louis XIII’s death in 1643. About 1640 it became the custom occasionally to model the design in relief with a paste of white enamel, which was afterwards painted with vitreous colours according to nature. Towards the middle of the century the background of the flowers was pierced and cut away, so that every single flower, exquisitely modelled and coloured, stood out by itself. In addition to tulips of every variety, and hyacinths, sunflowers, and roses, all kinds of lilies were in favour, especially the tigerlily, the “crown imperial,” and different species of fritillaries, whose beautifully spotted or chequered blossoms were rendered in their natural colours with striking fidelity. Flowers executed in this realistic style for jewellery were arranged chiefly in garlands and festoons, in the manner of the wreaths painted by Jan Brueghel round several of Rubens’ pictures, the flower pieces of such Dutch and Flemish painters as Jan de Heem, Van den Hecke, Daniel Seghers, and Van Thielen, and the wood carvings of Grinling Gibbons (himself Dutch by birth), which display the same remarkable realism. Among the goldsmiths and draughtsmen of the time who have left designs for jewels in painted enamel are the Germans Heinrich Raab and Johann Paulus Hauer, both goldsmiths of Nuremberg Their engravings, with natural flower ornamentation very finely designed and executed, were published about 1650. They comprise crosses, étuis, scissor, watch, and scent cases, and pendants—star- and bow-shaped, and set each with a pendent pearl. Work in the same direction by the artists of the French school is of great importance. Gédéon Légaré, though he practised the peapod style, is the first to show a decided preference for natural flowers in his engravings, which date from about 1640. He is followed by three famous masters of flower ornament—Balthazar Moncornet, Gilles Légaré, and Jean Vauquer. Vauquer worked at Blois between 1670 and 1700, and like many other engravers of jewellers designs, was a jeweller and enamel painter by profession. He was a pupil of Morlière of Orleans, who also worked at Blois. His fine plates of flowers and ornamental foliage, engraved after his own designs and entitled Livre de fleurs propres pour orfèvres et graveurs, were published in 1680.174 Vauquer was an enamel painter of pre-eminent ability, and one of the greatest exponents of the day of the art of representing natural flowers. Of the designs of Moncornet (c. 1670) and Gilles Légaré (c. 1663) for jewelled ornaments we have already spoken. Moncornet, a great lover of flowers, accompanied his jewels by charming garlands. With him and Vauquer and Légaré must be associated the renowned enamel painter Jean Petitot (1607-1691), who was first an enameller of jewellery. So highly skilled was he as a painter of flower designs and foliage on rings and other ornaments, that on going over to Eng land in 1635 he entered at once into the service of Charles I, where he brought to perfection his famous enamelled portraits. Several actual examples have survived of the enamel-work of Gilles Légaré, whose designs—the best-known of this time—reveal a charming feeling for natural flower ornaments. His chef d’œuvre is generally considered to be the garland of flowers painted in enamel in open-work relief that surrounds a miniature by Petitot of the Countess d’Olonne in the collection of Major Holford at Dorchester House. This splendid piece, on which the tints of the flowers are rendered with striking fidelity, was formerly in the collection of a great French connoisseur of the eighteenth century, P. J. Mariette. At his death it passed into the possession of Horace Walpole, who counted it as one of his special treasures. It joined the Dorchester House collection after the Strawberry Hill sale in 1842. If this magnificent enamel-work be by the hand of Légaré, and we may take Mariette’s word for it that it is,175 this clever craftsman must have worked for Petitot; for another very fine example of the same kind of work, a wreath of enamelled flowers finely modelled and painted, surrounds a miniature by Petitot in the possession of the Earl of Dartrey. To sum up the characteristic styles of seventeenth-century ornament which we have endeavoured to describe, the first feature is the general preference for précious stones, and especially diamonds, and the use of the “pea-pod” ornament for displaying them. From this style, practised by Marchant and many others, we pass, secondly, to the “Schwarzornamente” or “silhouette” designs of Le Blon and Toutin employed for champlevé enamel. Thirdly comes the development of naturalistic flower designs, and the application of these to the painted “Louis Treize,” enamel evolved by Toutin, and perfected by Petitot, Vauquer, and Légaré.
CHAPTER XXXI
SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY JEWELLERY (continued)
ENGLAND, SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
The jewels of the seventeenth century, as has been observed, are comparatively rare in public collections. Unlike those of the Cinquecento, which find a more appropriate place in the museum or collector’s cabinet, they are admirably adapted for personal use at the present day; but until the change of taste of the last few years in favour of old work, these attractive objects, owing to their being set with precious stones of intrinsic value, suffered cruelly at the hands of modern jewellers in the destructive process of resetting. Partly for this reason it is less easy than it was with the jewellery of the century previous to notify extant examples of all species of ornaments. Their main features, already described, lie in a preference for precious stones, and for a style of ornament which, at first formal, evolves into naturalistic flower designs in painted enamel. Widespread luxury accompanied the large importation of precious stones. Ladies made each new fête a pretext for greater extravagance and greater efforts to outshine their neighbours; and the ornament in which they seem above all to have delighted for the best display of their wealth of jewellery was the aigrette. This ornament, of which some mention has been made (p. 281), generally took the form of a bouquet of flowers on movable stalks, composed of clusters of precious stones in enamelled gold, accompanied sometimes by a jewelled knot, and was fixed in the hair on all occasions of ceremony. A large number of these bouquets are mentioned in the inventory of the French crown jewels of 1618. In default of actual examples we must rely on the designs which the jewellers of the day published for them, and also on contemporary portraits, which further illustrate a passing mode for plaiting strings of pearls through the hair. Of earrings, on the other hand, a considerable number of examples have survived. French and English portraits show at first only a large pear-shaped pearl in each ear. In the second half of the century more elaborate earrings came into use. Spain, where these ornaments have always been popular, produced at the time a number of portraits exhibiting earrings of open-work set with coloured stones. They are in the form of a rosette or bow-shaped ornament hung with movable pendants. The engravings of Rivard (1646), Lefebure (1647), and Gilles Légaré (1663) include designs for earrings; those of the last-named being such voluminous jewels, hung with triple briolettes, pendeloques, or pearls, that they might easily be mistaken for neck pendants. The majority of earrings of this period, now existing, are of Spanish, Portuguese, or Italian origin. The general type of earring then in use is well shown in Rembrandt’s portrait of Hendrickje Stoffels (about 1652), in the Louvre, where it takes the form of an elaborate pendant terminating with a big pearl drop. Necklaces of light open-work design are set with diamonds or coloured stones. These seldom have a special pendant; they were, in fact, fast disappearing to make room for rows of pearls. Jewelled pendants, often consisting of two or more mobile parts, were frequently attached to a velvet band that closely encircled the throat. More important pendants of this period are those which take the forms of mounted engraved gems or enamelled portraits, or else of miniature cases or lockets beautifully enamelled. The finest series of mounted gems is that in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris. Some of the mounts are executed in the “pea-pod” style in open-work; others are ornamented with champlevé enamel, after the niello designs in the silhouette manner; others again are of natural flower designs in painted enamel. There is a noteworthy example at Paris of the pea-pod style—a cameo (No. 791) of Louis XIII as an infant. It is in an open-work frame of opaque enamel—black, dark green, and white—of about 1605, which bears a very close resemblance to one of the published designs of Pierre Marchant. In the Gem Room of the British Museum is a still finer example, and one of the most Marlborough Collec splendid jewels from the famous tion. It is of open-work, enamelled white and green : the husks or pods, set each with a small diamond, are in green, and the little pea ornaments issuing therefrom are in white enamel (Pl. XLIV, 17). The work dates from the first years of the seventeenth century. The gem it serves to enrich, a fine onyx cameo of Lucius Verus, is slightly earlier. The choicest example of painted enamel of flower design in open relief is certainly the mounting or frame of a magnificent pendant (No. 961) in the Bibliothèque Nationale, set with a cameo of Lucrezia de Medici, wife of Alfonso II, Duke of Ferrara. This frame, quite unmatched for its taste and skill, is formed of a garland of flowers, open-worked, and enamelled in the utmost delicacy with white, pale yellow, and light green enamel, heightened with reddish touches (Pl. XLIII, 6). Among other jewels of the same style, of which there are quite a number, one may mention the setting of an antique Roman cameo (Pl. XLIV, 15), and the reverse of the onyx “George,” of Charles II (Pl. XXVIII, 1), both English work, at Windsor Castle.176 Besides the two beautiful examples of his work already noticed (p. 288), it is usual to associate with Gilles Légaré the frame of birds and flowers, enamelled black and white, that surrounds Petitot’s portrait of Louis XIV in the Jones Collection at South Kensington. The designs of Vauquer, also, seem to have been followed in many similar kinds of enamelled jewels. The pendent miniature-cases or lockets of the seventeenth century are of great interest. The best example of those enriched with champlevé enamel is the Lyte Jewel (p. 303). The “pea-pod” style is well shown on the back of a miniature-case containing a female portrait by Peter Oliver (1601-1647) in the Dyce Collection at South Kensington (Pl. XLIII, 2). It is enamelled en plein with translucent green on a ground of matted gold, with the pea-pod pattern in white, after an engraved design by the French ornamentist Pierre Firens (1605-1625). This same style of ornament is seen on a miniature-case émaillé en vésille sur verre177 belonging to Mr. Pierpont Morgan. Enamel-work after the silhouette engravings of the same period is represented by one of its principal exponents, Jean Toutin of Châteaudun (1618), on the front and back of a miniature-case (Plate XLIII, 1) in the possession of Mr. Pierpont Morgan, ornamented with designs en genre cosse de pois reserved in gold on a ground of black enamel. Small plaques of “Louis Treize” enamel painted in natural colours on a monochrome ground were frequently employed for miniature-cases. A considerable number of these, of both French and German (Augsburg) work, exist. English work is rarer: an example, upon the cover of a miniature of Oliver Cromwell, painted with roses and leaves in natural colours on a white ground, is preserved in the University Galleries, Oxford. Enamelled flower designs modelled in relief, sometimes on open-work ground, in the manner of Vauquer and Légaré, are also found on lockets. An exquisite little example, inscribed “O.C. 1653,” belongs to Mr. Max Rosenheim. It contains an enamelled miniature of Oliver Cromwell. Like the aigrette, an important jewel worn at this time was a breast ornament, termed a Sévigné, after the celebrated lady of that name. This ornament took the form of a bow or rosette of open-work, of foliated design, generally of silver, set with small diamond splinters. As the century advanced the work set with small stones and diamond sparks in substantial mounts was replaced by open-work jewels, known as “lazos” jewels, set with large flat stones, and ornaments formed of several pieces—an upper part of tied bow or knot shape and hung with pendants—all set with rose-cut stones. Much of this work, intended for the display of diamonds and various coloured stones in imitation of flowers, hails from Spain. It is admirably shown in Spanish portraits—those, for example, by Velasquez, Coello, etc., in the large series of Habsburg portraits preserved in the castle of Schönbrunn, in Austria; and in portraits of the Medici family by the painter Sustermans (15971681) in the Uffizi and Pitti galleries. It is here worthy of note that still in the seventeenth century we find elaborate ornamentation applied to the back of jewelsa notable feature in almost all jewellery of the finest craftsmanship. A plain surface on this part of the jewel was generally avoided by a charming use of the graver, or by means of small panels of painted enamel. Bracelets set with precious stones are generally of open-work of the same style as the necklaces. Of those executed in enamel there is a good French example at South Kensington (Plate XXXVII, 2). It is formed of six medallions, each containing a crowned cypher alternating with true-lover’s knots. It may usefully be compared with Gilles Légaré’s designs for bracelets and chains on Plate 8 of his Livre des Ouvrages d’Orfévrerie. The finger rings of the early seventeenth century, as far as one can judge from pictures, did not differ essentially from the late sixteenth-century types; in fact many of the ornamental rings usually ascribed to the sixteenth century really date from the first half of the seventeenth. The majority of small niello designs engraved at this period were patterns for the shoulders of rings, intended to be executed in enamel by the champlevé process (Pl. XLI). Henri, son of Jean Toutin, furnishes a couple of engravings for rings, of the year 1628, of which the whole outer surface of the hoop is covered with designs reserved in white on a black ground. De la Quewellerie of Amsterdam, 1635, has also left the designs for a finger ring in the same style. The love for “bouquets d’orfévrerie” —flower designs in coloured stones—finds expression, towards the end of the century, in the giardinetti ring, the bezel of which is formed like a nosegay, a basket of flowers, or a bunch of flowers springing from a vase. These floral designs are of charming execution, and their coloured stones produce an extremely pleasing effect. Many of these rings are Italian, but there are several English examples at South Kensington (Pl. XXXVI, 9, 10). Painted enamels in flower patterns are found not only on the shoulders of rings, but covering the entire outer surface. Occasionally flowers enamelled à jour occur, the hoop of the ring being hollow. Lord Falkland possesses a good example of one of these rings encircled with coloured flowers (Pl. XLIV, 8). The hollow space is filled with hair. Within the hoop is the posy Difficulty sweetens enjoyment. Mottoes or posies of this kind were occasionally engraved on mediaeval rings and on those of the sixteenth century, but the majority of the large number of rings on which such mottoes occur belong to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Unlike the example just mentioned, these rings, with the motto engraved inside them, usually have plain hoops, and were used as engagement, and sometimes as wedding rings. The mottoes generally rhyme, but are not remarkable for poetic skill, and they are found constantly repeated. Numbers of the verses employed for the purpose are given in Jones’s Finger Ring Lore, and in an article published by Sir John Evans in Longman’s Magazine (1892). A few examples will suffice: As God decreed so we agreed; God avove increase our love; This take for my sake; The love is true I owe you; In thee my choice I do rejoice. Posy rings, like mourning rings, to be referred to later, are almost exclusively English. As regards the ordinary ornamental ring of the period, it is to be observed that the diamond, which came so much to the front at this time, found a prominent place on it. Towards the close of the century, though enamel-work is still visible, the purpose of the ring, as at the present day, seems to have been nothing more than for displaying the diamond on the finger, so far as one may judge from some of Légaré’s designs (Pl. XL, 2). The girdle in the seventeenth century was still an important ornament for ladies. The great portrait painters of the Low Countries present ladies wearing massive linked chains terminating in elaborate pomanders. Not infrequently the lady is shown, as in a picture by Gerard Douffet at Munich, holding the pomander in her hand. A fine pomander is seen in a portrait of a Flemish lady by Cornelis de Vos in the Wallace Collection, and one of extraordinary beauty is worn by a Dutch lady in a splendid picture by Frans Hals in the Cassel Gallery. Amongst the various seventeenth-century girdles to be found in public collections, without doubt the most remarkable are two examples, one in the Victoria and Albert Museum and the other in the Wallace Collection. They represent the species of enamel-work known as émail en résille sur verre, which was employed during the latter part of the sixteenth and the early seventeenth century for miniature and mirror cases—of which specimens in the Morgan Collection and the Louvre have already been noticed—and for the dials of watches. The girdle at South Kensington, of French work of the early seventeenth century, is formed of twenty-one oblong and slightly convex plates linked together by rosettes. These plates, of silver, are filled with glass paste, which is backed with coloured foils and inlaid with minute designs in translucent enamel on gold, representing hunting and other country scenes. The chain in the Wallace Collection, which might possibly have been worn as a neck-chain, is almost identical in subject and design, save that the oblong links number eighteen, while the rosettes uniting them are enamelled and set with garnets. The jewel which best répresents the various kinds of decoration in the way of engraving and enamel-work applied to seventeenth-century ornaments is the watch. From the early part of the century the round form, more or less flat, which has been preserved from that time to the present day, began to be generally adopted for watches. All the different species of work employed on miniature-cases are found on watch dial-plates and cases. The interesting cosse de pois ornament is represented in the British Museum on the dial-plate of a watch by D. Bouquet of London, of about 1630-1640. It is executed by the rare process just described—the pattern being inlaid on gold upon a ground of green glass or enamel. Another watch, by Vautier of Blois, has the centre of the dial enriched with translucent enamel in gold cloisons on opaque white. Among watches with richly decorated cases there is in the same collection another by Bouquet, beautifully enamelled with flowers in relief, of various colours and kinds, on a black ground encrusted with small diamonds. Besides the names already mentioned, the best-known enamellers of watch-cases from about 1680 to 1700 were the brothers Huault, or Huaud, of Geneva, who worked also at Berlin. No more examples need be given of the different species of enamel applied to seventeenth-century jewellery. Enough has been said to demonstrate the importance and attractiveness of the comparatively littleknown enamel-work of this time. During the greater part of the seventeenth century the watch was simply hung by a chain to the girdle, as we see it on the two portraits (about 1645) of the wife of John Tradescant the younger in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. The elaborate chatelaines which at tached the watch to women’s girdles, and the chains which hung from the fob-pocket of men, belong rather to the eighteenth century; but they were already in use, and from them were suspended that most attractive article of jewellery, the seal, which was then beginning to take the place of the signet ring. Evelyn, in his Mundus Muliebris, or Voyage to Marryland (1690). gives a rhyming catalogue of a lady’s toilet, and alludes to the chatelaine: To which a bunch of onyxes, And many a golden seal there dangles, Mysterious cyphers, and new fangles. The designs of Légaré contain several charming pendent seals having their shanks or handles finely worked with monograms and other patterns (Pl. XL). Seals, however, together with the chatelaine and the rest of its accompaniments, will be spoken of later. There remain various pieces of jewellery, such as buckles, clasps, or brooches, which were sprinkled on different parts of the dress. Like the sévigné or breast ornament, they often take the form of a tied bow, and find a place on the arms and shoulders, and in rows down the front of the bodice and the skirt. In the latter part of the century jewelled buckles replaced the rosette of ribbons on the shoe. Thus again Evelyn speaks of: Diamond buckles too, For garters, and as rich for shoo A manteau girdle, ruby buckle, And brillant diamond rings for knuckle. A saphire bodkin for the hair, Or sparkling facet diamonds there Then turquois, ruby, emrauld rings For fingers, and such petty things; As diamond pendants for the ears, Must needs be had, or two pearl pears, Pearl neck-lace, large and oriental, And diamond, and of amber pale.
ENGLAND, SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
In England in the time of James I, the love of personal ornament, among men as well as women, was even more widespread than before. King James, and also his Queen, who herself possessed a highly extravagant taste for jewellery, set a public example by their patronage of the jewellers; while the nobility outbid one another in lavish expenditure. John Chamberlain, an entertaining correspondent of the day, writes thus in 1608 to a friend unable to attend a masque: “Whatsoever the devise may be, and what success they may have in their dancing, yet you should be sure to have seen great riches in jewels, when one lady, and that under a baroness, is said to be furnished for better than a hundred thousand pounds; and the lady Arabella goes beyond her, and the Queen must not come behind.” Contemporary chroniclers have left no descriptions that show precisely how the King’s own person reflected the fashions in jewellery of his day, yet we know that he possessed an almost childish admiration for “bravery,” as it then was termed, particularly such as was intended for the decoration of those about his person. A very curious instance of the King’s interest in these matters is to be found in the elaborate instructions he issued concerning the despatch of a large consignment of jewels for the use of the Prince of Wales, and his favourite, Buckingham, on their memorable journey to Spain in 1623. In the spring of that year orders were given to several officers of State, and with them the jeweller Heriot, to repair to the Tower and make a selection of the finest jewels there—some fit for a woman, and others for the Prince to wear. Among them a “jewel called the Three Brothers, five or six faire jewels to be worn in men’s hats, same to be of £6,000 or £7,000 value, and none under; the five pendent diamonds that were the Queen’s, whether they If remain upon a string or be made up upon a feather. none of the Targett fashion for hats, the jewels to be broke up to make them.”178 To his son and favourite the King then addresses a letter, in which he tells them that he had been choosing “the jewells I am to send you, whereof my Babie is to present some to his Mistresse, and some of the best hee is to wear himselfe, and the next best hee will lend to my bastard brat [Buckingham] to wear.” On their removal from the Tower the jewels are carefully inventoried, and Heriot is set to work to refashion them. After a fortnight’s work he promises that they will be finished in a few days. So, on the 18th of March, “the jewels,” we learn, “have been delivered.” “Mr. Herriot is gone to assist in packing them, and has sat up day and night to get them completed.”179 The King then writes that he is sending for his “Babie’s owin wearing … the Three Brethren,180 that you knowe full well, but newlie sette, and the Mirroure of Frawnce, the fellowe of the Portugall Dyamont, quhiche I wolde wishe you to weare alone in your hatte with a litle blakke feather.” To his “sweete Gosseppe” he sends “a fair table dyamonde.” “I have hung,” he says, “a faire peare pearle to it for wearing in thy hatte or quhair thow pleasis.”181 As the result of extensive transactions both with the Crown and the nobility the jewellers of the day seem to have reaped a rich harvest; and they attained to positions of eminence by adding banking to their more ancient art of working in the precious metals. Of the royal jewellers, George Heriot of Edinburgh—rendered immortal by Sir Walter Scott as “Jingling Geordie”— the founder of Heriot’s Hospital, comes first to mind. Heriot received in 1597 a life appointment as jeweller to Queen Anne of Denmark, and in 1601 James made him his own jeweller. He followed the King to London, and in 1603, together with William Herrick and John Spilman, was appointed jeweller to the King, Queen, and Prince, at a yearly salary of £50. Immense sums of money were paid him both as interest on loans and for the jewels supplied to their Majesties, of which long lists have been preserved. Sir John Spilman, a German by birth and one of the chief jewellers of Queen Elizabeth, executed great quantities of jewellery at the royal commands; but Sir William Herrick seems to have obtained an even larger share of the royal patronage. Queen Anne of Denmark, who spent an enormous amount on personal ornaments, received £36,000 worth from him alone. “Queen Anne,” writes a contemporary shortly after her death, “hath left a world of brave jewels behind; and although one Piers, an outlandish man, hath run away with many, she hath left all to the Prince [Charles] and none to the Queen of Bohemia [her daughter Elizabeth]” In fact, so many of her jewels were embezzled that scarcely a vestige remained, though Herrick produced the models of them and swore to their delivery.182 The poet Robert Herrick, Sir William Herrick s nephew, was a jeweller-apprentice to his uncle for several years, and his early training seems to have left a strong impression on him, for his poems throughout betray a love and appreciation for jewels. Among other jewellers whose names occur in the State Papers, the following may be mentioned: Philip Jacobson, Arnold Lulls, John Acton, and John Williamsa maker of gold neck-chains and pendent medals. As far as the actual productions of the Jacobean jewellers are concerned we meet with comparatively few examples; this want, however, is supplied, to a certain extent, by means of a beautiful set of contemporary drawings for jewellery preserved in the Victoria and Albert Museum—the work of Arnold Lulls, a jeweller whose name occurs several times in the royal accounts. In conjunction with Sir William Herrick, Lulls supplied the King in 1605, as New Year’s gifts for the Royal Family, with jewels to the amount of £3,000. For a certain jewel of diamonds, with pearls pendent, and two dozen buttons supplied by him and Jacobson, and bestowed by His Majesty on the Queen at the Princess Mary’s christening the same year, Lulls was paid £1,550.183 Lulls designs, drawn in water-colours in a parchment book, number altogether forty-one. The majority, set with large table-cut stones and hung with huge pearshaped drops, are for pendent ornaments, for wearing either on the neck-chain, or as earrings, or else upon the hat. Among the drawings are two designs for a “rope of round pearls, great and orient”—forty-seven in number—given to the Queen, and several designs for the above-mentioned diamond and pearl ornament given her in 1605; two drawings for Georges of the Order of the Garter given to Prince Henry; and designs for a large balas ruby with pearl pendant mentioned in an inventory of the Prince’s jewels.184 The remaining drawings include four of jewelled aigrettes set with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires (Plate XXX, 1). These remarkable contemporary illustrations of English jewellery reveal the change then beginning to take place in the character of personal ornaments. Yet, though precious stones are much in evidence, in almost every case their settings are coloured, while the design of each jewel is completed with charming scrollwork enriched with polychrome enamels. The finest Jacobean jewel in existence is the famous miniature-case, known as the Lyte Jewel, now in the Waddesdon Bequest in the British Museum. Miniature-cases of gold elaborately enamelled, with hinged fronts often set with jewels, were as much in vogue as in Elizabeth’s time; and records show that many precious “picture cases” of the kind were made for James I as presents to personal friends or to ambassadors. The cover of the Lyte Jewel is of open-work, filled with the letter R, with diamonds on the outside and brilliant enamel within. The back is a white enamelled plate with a design in fine gold lines and ruby enamel, the edge being enamelled alternately ruby colour and sapphire-blue. Within is a portrait of James I ascribed to Isaac Oliver. The first owner of the jewel was Mr. Thomas Lyte. This gentleman drew up a long pedigree of King James l’s ancestry and presented it to the King, who was so much pleased with it that he rewarded Mr. Lyte with his “picture in gold, set with diamonds, with gracious thanks.” The jewel passed from the Lyte family some generations ago into the hands of the Duke of Hamilton. At the dispersal of the Hamilton Palace collection it was bought for the sum of £2,835 by Baron Ferdinand Rothschild, who bequeathed it with his other art treasures to the British Museum. A contemporary portrait of Thomas Lyte, dated 1611, in the possession of Sir Henry Maxwell Lyte shows him wearing it suspended from a brown ribbon round his neck. The jewel is the same, save that the drop at the bottom, now a single pearl, was originally trilobed. This exquisite jewel was probably the work of one of the court jewellers mentioned above. The design on the back, which corresponds in style with engravings of Daniel Mignot and the other earlier designers in the “silhouette” manner, exemplifies the influence exercised by the ornamentists on all the jewellery of the period (Pl. XLI). Throughout the reign of Charles I ornaments in the same style as those portrayed in Lulls’ drawings appear to have remained in use. All jewellery was largely influenced by the pattern-books issued from the goldsmith-engravers’ shops of Germany, France, and Flanders. Several jewellers themselves came over, as did the well-known Michel Le Blon, in the early part of the reign. In 1635 the famous goldsmith-enamellers Petitot and Bordier likewise visited England, and doubtless made their influence felt on the enamelled jewellery of the time. The period, on the whole, though it terminated disastrously for all the sumptuary arts, seems to have been a prolific one in the production of jewellery. The chief business was shared by the court jewellers—James Heriot (half-brother of George Heriot), Philip Jacobson, Thomas Simpson, John Acton, and William Terrey. Though he showered commissions on these jewellers, the King had commenced early in his reign the dispersal of the immense hoards of jewellery brought together by his predecessors; and by selling and pawning raised large sums of money, to make good the deficiencies caused by the rupture with Parliament. Subsequently, during the Civil War, to relieve his personal necessities, numbers of jewels were sold at home, and many more pawned and sent over to the dealers at Amsterdam, who broke them up for the intrinsic value of their gold and precious stones; while the remainder were put under the hammer by a commission appointed after the King’s death to dispose of the works of art in the royal collection. The fact that all classes during the struggle parted with their valuables to assist their respective champions has rendered jewellery extremely rare. Women, and even little children, voluntarily sent their necklaces and brooches “for the King”; while Cromwell was assisted in the same manner. Great luxury in jewellery appears to have been associated with the Court of Charles II. The King himself bestowed magnificent presents on his mistresses. Amongst his jewellers was “that prince of goldsmiths” Sir Robert Vyner, who made the crown jewels. Later on King Charles had as court jeweller the celebrated French traveller and gem merchant Sir John Chardin, who settled in London with an immense collection of precious stones acquired in the East. Another eminent jeweller of the time was the banker Alderman Edward Backwell, whose old books, still preserved, are full of interesting accounts for jewels supplied during the Commonwealth and the reign of Charles II. The religious troubles which had led Chardin to quit France induced a number of other French jewellers, after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, to establish themselves in England. These foreign jewellers, like the army of craftsmen in every field that at all times swarmed into England, soon accustomed themselves to their environment and became as English as the English themselves. English work has ever had its own distinctive mark, for whatever the native craftsmen themselves borrowed they speedily made their own. The chief jeweller of the latter part of the century was Sir Francis Child—one of the founders of the great banking house that still bears his name. He was appointed court jeweller to William III in 1689, and supplied the King with a great quantity of jewellery. Much of this was intended as presents to ambassadors; for jewellery, it appears, played a very prominent part in the diplomatic affairs of the day. Even the most trifling negotiation cost the Exchequer an enormous amount in presents of this kind, while foreign envoys were likewise obliged to disburse large sums tor the same purpose. Lists of these gifts and of other jewels are preserved in the ledgers of this ancient firm of goldsmith-bankers, and have been published by Mr. F. G. Hilton Price in The Marygold by Temple Bar. A set of drawings for jewels of about the year 1674 from Sir Francis Child’s ledger, with particulars concerning them in the great goldsmith’s own handwriting, is here reproduced (Pl. XLV).
CHAPTER XXXII
EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY JEWELLERY
The jewellery that came into fashion towards the close of the seventeenth century and flourished during the greater part of the eighteenth follows the style known as rococo. Rococo ornament with its assemblage of rich fantastic scrolls and crimped conventional shellwork wrought into irregular and indescribable forms, though overcharged and inorganic, yet possesses certain beauty and artistic quality. Like most objects in this style, rococo jewellery has a real decorative charm. But the title of baroque or rococo is really less adapted to jewellery than to other art productions of the time, for jewellery itself never indulged in the same extravagant use of this form of ornament. Except for slight changes in design, eighteenthcentury jewellery, as far as its general form is concerned, does not at first display any marked variation from that of the previous century. A charming but somewhat superficial sentimentality expressed by means of pastoral subjects results in ornaments on which tokens of friendship are represented in all manner of forms. The naturalistic tendency in ornament is still strong, but is less striking than it was before, since feather, ribbon, and other conventional designs make their appearance, mingled with flowers and leaves. These rococo jewels, on account of the setting and arrangement of the precious stones which entirely govern their composition, are in their way masterpieces both technically and artistically. Unlike the earlier jewels, one cannot help regarding them rather more as accessories to costume than as independent works of art. The general character of the jewellery of the period with which we are now dealing may best be judged by a notable series of original designs in colour for such objects executed by the Santini family of Florence, and now preserved in the Library of the Victoria and Albert Museum. This remarkable collection comprises upwards of 382 separate designs, which are mostly constructed in a manner best calculated to show off the brilliant character and size of the stones and pearls, on which their effect mainly depends. A large’proportion of the drawings take the form of what at this period constituted a parure, or set of jewels, composed of three items of similar design—a bow-shaped breast ornament hung with a cross, and a pair of earrings en suite. In place of the breast ornament is sometimes a V-shaped corsage in imitation of hooks and eyes of The braidwork, set with various precious stones. whole work shows that in the eighteenth century the stone cutter and stone setter had practically supplanted the artist in precious metals. In the metal-work of the settings—in most cases a matter of minor consideration—gold is employed for coloured stones and silver for diamonds. The general tendency is towards the rococo, but this type of ornament is here by no means strongly marked. In other directions, however, it is more apparent, and already in the seventeenth century we meet with traces of it in engraved designs for jewellery The best work of this kind is that of Friedrich Jacob Morisson, a draughtsman and jeweller who worked at Vienna from about 1693 to 1697. He was one of the most popular jewellers of the day, and his plates, which are rich in motives for ornaments in precious stones and fine metal-work, found a wide circulation. They comprise aigrettes, earrings, brooches, pendants, bracelets, rings, étuis, and seals. Other Germans who have left designs in the same style are F. H. Bemmel (1700) of Nuremberg, D. Baumann (1695), Johann Heel (1637-1709), and J. F. Leopold (1700)—all of Augsburg French designers led European taste in jewellery as in furniture, and published a number of important designs. The most remarkable are those of the mastergoldsmith Jean Bourguet of Paris, whose models for earrings, pendants, and clasps, dated 1712 and 1723. are set with large faceted stones, and have their backs chased or enamelled with flower designs. His Livre de Taille d’Epargne with designs for enamel-work published as models for jewellers apprentices, contains amongst other patterns a series of twelve rings set with large faceted stones; beside each ring is a design for the enamel decoration of its shoulder: “Petits morceaux” he calls them, “ de taille d’épargne facile à coppier.” Contemporary with Bourguet was Pierre Bourdon, of Coulommiers en Brie, who worked at Paris. His designs, dated 1703, are for seals, scent cases, and watch covers of rococo work, and pendent medallions and miniature frames set with precious stones. Among other Parisian designers are the master-goldsmiths Briceau (1709), and Mondon (c. 1730-1760) whose Livre de Pierveries, Pour la Parure des Dames contains patterns for earrings, brooches, and aigrettes set with brilliants, and for enamelled and jewelled watches. Of Italian designs for jewellery set with precious stones in the rococo style we may note those of G. B. Grondoni of Genoa, who worked at Brussels about 1715, Carlo Ciampoli (1710), and D. M. Albini, whose Disegni moderni di gioiglieri were published in 1744. The publication in London of several series of designs proves that England was not far behind the Continent in the production of high-class personal ornaments. Among the most important pattern-books for jewellery, are those of Simon Gribelin, who was born in Paris in 1662, and worked chiefly in London, where he died in 1733. His work includes A book of seuerall Ornaments inuented and ingraued by S. Gribelin, 1682, and A Book of Ornaments usefull to Jewellers, etc., 1697. These were republished in 1704. Gribelin’s productions were followed by those of J. B. Herbst, who issued in 1708 A book of severall ornaments fit for Juweler, made by J. B. Herbst, and in 1710 A Book of Severall Juwelers work, … Sold by Mr. Eymaker, Juweler in Earls Court drury lane London. The patterns are chiefly for seals, and for breast ornaments and clasps set with rose-cut stones in rococo settings. About the same time similar pattern-books were published by J. Smith and Thomas Bowles. In 1736 appeared A book of jeweller’s work design’d by Thomas Flach in London, engraved by J. Fessey. It contains designs for buckles, seals, watch-keys, a chatelaine with a watch and another with an étui, pendants and bow-shaped breast ornaments hung with drop pearls. In 1762 J. Guien published in London a Livre de jouailleries—A book of Ornaments for sewellers, containing various designs in precious stones in the manner of Morisson and Grondoni. An isolated phenomenon in the midst of the universal love for precious stones that then dominated the productions of the jewellers, there stands out Johann Melchior Dinglinger, who carried the traditions of the sixteenth century far into the eighteenth. Born at Biberach, near Ulm, in 1665, Dinglinger worked first at Augsburg, and, having visited Italy, was summoned to Dresden in 1702 by Augustus II, Elector of Saxony, where he lived until his death in 1731. During these thirty years, aided by his brother Georg Friedrich (d. 1720) and his son Johann Melchior (1702-1762), he was employed as court jeweller to the Elector, whom he assisted in planning and arranging the Grüne Gewölbe at Dresden, which marvellous assemblage of precious objects contains the best examples of his work. All the processes of the Cinquecento craftsmen, of whose technique he possessed a fine knowledge, were employed by Dinglinger with wonderful care and exactitude—though his productions naturally betray in design the period of their execution. He exercised considerable influence on his contemporaries, more especially with regard to the revival of the art of enamelling in the second half of the century, when jewellery made a notable advance in the time, of Louis XVI. A change in style was first experienced on the arrival in power of Madame de Pompadour, who led the way in that coquettish return to simple conditions of life which showed itself in the pastorals of the Louis Quinze epoch. It resulted in a preference for simple gold; this metal, coloured by alloys such as platinum and silver, and popular under the name of à quatre couleurs, being at most only set off by enamel painting. This later rococo period, as far as its technique is concerned, is one which has never been equalled either before or since. An event of importance in the history of jewellery as of art generally, was the discovery in 1755 of the city of Pompeii, succeeding that in 1713 of Herculaneum, buried for centuries beneath the ashes of Vesuvius. The journeys of artists to Italy and to Naples, and the interest aroused thereby in ancient art, a weariness with the mannerism of rococo ornament, and the whim of fashion, gradually transformed jewellery like other decorative arts, and resulted in the classicism of the style of Louis XVI. Antique forms as they then were known showed themselves in a very charming manner in well-balanced jewels, where different coloured gold took the form of classical motives in the midst of ribbons, garlands, and the pastoral subjects dear to the previous epoch. Enamel returned into fashion, and accomplished its chief triumph with painting en plein in fine transparent tones over guilloché gold. In conjunction with the art of gem setting and cutting, and metal chasing, this species of enamel produced effects which were all the more surprising, seeing that it was often confined to the smallest of spaces. Among the first craftsmen who created, or followed the fashion, was the jeweller Lempereur. Some of his designs were published by his pupil Pouget the younger in 1762 and 1764, in a treatise entitled Traité des pierres précieuses et de la manière de les employer en Parure, the plates of which, mostly coloured, and representing models of jewellery of all kinds set with precious stones, were engraved by Mlle. Raimbau. Another pupil of Lempereur, August Duflos, published in 1760 a similar work entitled Recueil de Dessins de Joaillerie. Other French designers of jewellery at this time were; Maria, a jeweller of Paris, who issued about 1765 an important series of plates, thirty-five in number, of pendants, brooches, clasps, chatelaines, aigrettes, seals, rings, and buckles; P. Moreau (1740-1780) and J. B. Fay (1780-1790), both of Paris; and L. Van den Cruycen (1770) of Brussels. In 1770 was published in London by T. D. Saint A new book of designs for jewellers’ work containing eleven plates of ornaments of various kinds in the style of Pouget and Duflos. One of the last English jewellers of the old school was George Michael Moser (1707-1783), one of the founders of the Academy—like Fuseli, a Swiss by birth, and a native of Schaffhausen. He was originally a gold chaser— the first in the kingdom, so Sir Joshua Reynolds described him; but when that mode of decorating jewellery was put aside in favour of enamels, he turned his attention to enamel compositions of emblematical figures, much in vogue for the costly watch-cases of the day, for chatelaines, necklaces, bracelets, and other personal ornaments. He succeeded so well in this class of work that the Queen patronised him, and he executed a considerable number of commissions for the King. Another eminent jeweller, who was likewise a painter and enameller, was Augustus Toussaint. He worked principally with his father, a noted jeweller of Denmark Street, Soho, and exhibited at the Royal Academy from 1775 to 1778, sending in both miniatures and enamels. He died between 1790 and 1800. Several of the fine open-work jewelled frames which held the choice miniatures of the day, were made in the workshop of Toussaint the elder, and on his death his son Augustus is said not only to have retained for his own use all the examples of these frames which were in stock, but to have continued to supply a few fellow-artists, with whom he was on terms of intimacy, with the celebrated Toussaint frames.185 The excess of ornamentation and the desire for jewellery formed of precious stones had, since the seventeenth century, favoured the use of imitations. Rock crystal or quartz had long been employed to imitate diamonds. Forgeries and imitations which were intended to pass as precious stones will be spoken of in another place. But at this time even people of great wealth wore imitation jewels, such as certainly would not be worn by persons in a corresponding position nowadays. These made no profession of being real stones. They were recognised as imitations. The credit of the production of the first satisfactory substitute for the diamond is due to a German—Stras or Strass by name—who about 1758 established himself at Paris on the Quai des Orfévres, where he met with great success as a vendor of paste imitations of diamonds, which still bear his name. Competitors were not slow in making their appearance, and one Chéron also gave his name for a considerable time to the false diamonds that issued from his workshop. So large and flourishing did the industry in imitations become that in 1767 a corporation of joailliers-faussetiers was established in Paris. Imitation pearls were likewise very largely worn; even ladies of high position did not disdain to wear them— “Un collier de perles fausses” occurs in the inventory of the jewels of Madame de Chamillart made on her death in 1731. False pearls first appeared in Paris about the time of Henry IV, the production of one named Jaquin, whose descendants carried on a large business in them in Paris till the middle of the eighteenth century. “So well have pearls been imitated,” writes Pouget the younger, in 1762, “that most of those of fine Orient have found their way back from Europe to Asia, and are so rare in France that nowadays one scarcely sees any good specimens.” Productions such as these were rendered necessary to satisfy the luxury which from the nobility had extended over the whole middle classes, and also on account of the strained condition of French finance. Etienne de Silhouette, Controller of Finance, endeavoured to cut down expenses, and issued in 1759 an invitation to the wealthy to bring in their jewels to be converted into cash for the benefit of the Treasury. Such attempts at economy, though rewarded only by ridicule, so that portraits henceforth executed in the commonest manner were à la Silhouette, yet met with this result, as Pouget observes, that since the time of M. de Silhouette marcasite had become very much the fashion in France. In Switzerland, too, since it was forbidden to wear diamonds, ladies, he tells us, wore no other ornaments than marcasite, and spent a good deal of care and money in the setting of it. The mineral known as marcasite, a word which was spelled in many ways, is a crystallised form of iron pyrites cut in facets like rose diamonds, and highly polished. It was used for a number of ornaments. Steel, likewise cut in facets, was similarly employed. Steel jewellery appears to have been invented in England, and from Birmingham, the centre of its manufacture, found its way all over Europe, reaching France by way of Holland. It was carried out largely by Boulton and Watt and other firms of Birmingham, Sheffield, and Wolverhampton. This steel jewellery, which was in high favour in the latter half of the eighteenth, continued to be worn until the second quarter of the nineteenth century, when it finally went out of fashion. Even after that, cut steel was still made at Birmingham, and the firm of Hipkins, one of the most prominent, continued for many years to supply the Court of Spain with buttons and buckles ornamented with it (Pl. LI, 1, 2). Steel was largely employed as mounts for the fictile cameos of Wedgwood, Tassie, Adams, and Turner, which were in considerable demand for rings, brooches and buttons. Mountings for these were also made in silver or Sheffield plate, principally the work of Thomas Law & Co., of Sheffield. In the latter part of the century England occupied a unique position with regard to the production of objects of this kind, which were eagerly sought for throughout the whole of the Continent. Another characteristic of the changed condition of the times was the use in jewellery, together with strass, false pearls, and marcasite, of various substitutes for gold. The best-known of these substitutes was “pinch-beck,” so called after its inventor, Christopher Pinchbeck (d. 1732), a clock and watch maker, of Fleet Street. This pinchbeck gold was an alloy of copper and zinc. When fused together the metals assumed the colour of fine gold, and preserved for a time a bright and unoxidised surface, though in some cases objects thus fashioned received a washing of gold. Pinchbeck was much used for cheaper jewellery of all kinds. The larger articles made of this metal were chatelaines, snuff-boxes, and étuis, while watch-cases, miniatureframes, buckles, clasps, and so forth, are to be found for the most part ornamented in relief and carefully chased. These several articles to which pinchbeck was suited, went in those days by the name of “toys.” The term “Toyman” was employed by Pinchbeck himself, but the title had, of course, no reference to what are now known as toys. In France and Germany a metal composition like gold, in imitation of pinchbeck, called Similor or “goldshine,” was produced, first by Renty, of Lille, about 1729, and subsequently improved by Leblanc, of Paris. But the name of the English inventor of the metal was well known in France, where it was retained in such forms as pinsebeck or pinsbeck. The head-ornament—the aigrette—was still an important jewel in the eighteenth century. Generally a kind of delicately formed bouquet of precious stones in very light setting, it continued long in fashion, together with strings of pearls among the hair. For a while the aigrette was set aside for bows, small birds, etc., made of precious stones mounted upon vibrating spiral wires which were then attached to the hair-pin. These went under the name of “wasps” or “butterflies.” In the days of Marie Antoinette they were supplemented by hair-pins and aigrettes set entirely with diamonds, which about 1770 had almost entirely superseded coloured stones. Many designs for these head-ornaments were published by Pouget the younger and Duflos, the latter of whom complains in the preface to his work of the tendency shown in his day to do away with the admixture of coloured stones with diamonds; a proof that up to this date, in spite of the general preference for the diamond, taste had not yet learned to do without colour effect in jewellery. Earrings, as has been noticed in reference to the Santini designs, were in particular favour at this period. The majority were composed of large faceted stones or of pearls, formed givandole fashion—that is to say, of a large circular stone above, with three briolettes or pearshaped pendants below. A pair of earrings of this form, said to have belonged to Madame du Barry, are in possession of Lady Monckton. They are set each with four sapphire pastes of very fine quality; the three droppendants being separated from the upper stone by open spray-work of silver set with white pastes (Pl. XLVI, 5,6). Similarly elaborate pendent earrings in seven sections composed of brilliants are seen in an original mezzotint portrait of Queen Charlotte by Thomas Frye (c. 1760). Drop-shaped pendants, mostly diamonds, were then very highly esteemed. Marie Antoinette had a pair of diamond earrings with stones of this form hanging from a perpendicular line of large brilliants. The designs of Ciampoli, Mondon, Guien, Pouget, Van den Cruycen, and Fay, all contain varieties of earrings, mostly girandole fashion. For necklaces the engravings of these same designers supply many patterns. Like the carcan of the fifteenth century, they are often in the form of a band about an inch in width, composed of precious stonesrubies, emeralds, pearls, and diamonds—in open-work. or attached to velvet. They are generally constructed so as to reach only half-way round the neck, the back part being a band of black velvet. Portraits of the time frequently exhibit ropes of pearls, and finally rows of large diamonds, like the renowned collier of Marie Antoinette composed by the Court jewellers Boehmer and Bossange. Numerous circumstances connected with it, too lengthy to relate here, gave to the affaire of the diamond necklace a world-wide celebrity, making it one of the chief events of the century. Though historically one of the world’s most famous pieces of jewellery, the necklace itself, described in quaint but vivid language by Carlyle in his Miscellanies, calls for no special comment, being on the whole of comparatively small artistic importance. Its value—£90,000, a great sum for those days—lay in the size and quality of the brilliants and pendelogues of which it was composed. A favourite point of adornment in female attire was still the breast, where, in the first part of the century, jewelled ornaments, or sévignés, in the form of bows and rosettes, hung with pendants and set with table-cut stones or rose diamonds, continued to be worn. Generally they assumed the girandole shape hung with pearshaped pendants. About 1770 a large bunch of flowers, or a bouquet-shaped ornament formed of precious stones, was worn in the breast. For the latter the jeweller Lempereur enjoyed a great reputation. Upon the stiff bodice, which came into fashion at the end of the seventeenth century, scope was afforded for a goodly use of ornament, and soon we find the corsage literally covered with jewels, in a manner similar to that in which the ladies of the Renaissance almost completely covered the upper part of their dresses with pendent chainornaments. At the time, however, of which we now speak the ornaments are single pieces mounted upon the dress and arranged symmetrically in the form of a jewelled “stomacher” or devant de corsage. The Santini drawings contain many examples of this kind of open framework composed of precious stones; and several interesting designs for the same are figured on Plates 16, 17, and 18 of Maria’s Livre de Dessins de Jouaillerie et de Bijouterie. At this period also, when luxury reached its climax, even the panier or tucked-up upper skirt had the whole of its exaggerated dimensions sprinkled with pieces of jewellery, so that of this time again it may be said that the ladies of the Court displayed the whole of their wealth, and often enough of their credit too, upon a single dress. Fashion endeavoured to fill a corresponding part in gentlemen’s attire by adorning coat and waistcoat with buttons of artistic workmanship. To match the beautiful embroidered garments of the time, buttons were sewn with bugles, steel beads, or spangles; and many have survived which may be reckoned as real articles of jewellery. Every material and mode of decoration was applied to them. Occasionally we find buttons set with diamonds and other precious stones, but more often paste, or with odd natural stones such as agates, carnelians, marcasite, blood-stones, lapis-lazuli, or buttons of tortoise-shell, or of compositions such as Wedgwood ware, in frames of cut steel. Translucent blue glass or enamel, mounted or set with pearls, diamonds or pastes, and chased and coloured gold, were all fashionable. On the whole, cut steel was the most popular. A Birmingham craftsman by name of Heeley, who worked for Wedgwood about 1780, is recorded as being especially skilful at this class of work; while in France a certain Dauffe had almost a monopoly in the production of steel objects. Certainly some of the open-work steel buttons of the timeEnglish as well as French—are jewels of a very high order. Bracelets were mostly formed of bands of velvet with oval clasps. The clasp was decorated in a variety of ways, and was very frequently fitted with a painted or enamelled miniature. The practice of wearing miniatures in this way seems to have been a common one, judging by the numerous advertisements inserted in the London Public Advertiser about the middle of the century by “ingenious artists,” willing on “reasonable terms to paint elegant portraits in miniature for bracelets, rings, etc.” Madame de Chamillart had amongst other jewels “Un petit portrait en mignature en forme de bracelet garny de quatre diamants, monté en or.”  In fact, according to Fontenay, the terms bracelet and boîte à portrait had for a time practically the same meaning.186 Cameos were sometimes employed as bracelet clasps, but not to the same extent as they were subsequently under the Empire. In the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris are two portrait cameos in sardonyx (Nos. 788 and 927) which served as the clasps of the bracelets of Madame de Pompadour, and were bequeathed by her to Louis XV in 1764. The work of the celebrated gem-engraver Jacques Guay, the one represents Henri IV, and the other, which is signed, Louis XV. The mounting of each, an admirable example of French jewelwork of the time, is formed of a circlet of emeralds arranged in the manner of a laurel wreath, and tied at intervals by cords of rose diamonds terminating above and below in knots. Among other decorations for bracelets, mention may be made of the celebrated enamels produced at Battersea between 1750 and 1775, very many of which, oval in shape, were set in gold frames so as to be easily mounted in bracelets. The productions of the rival establishment at Bilston, in Staffordshire, were similarly employed, and, like the former, were frequently worn as buttons. The finger ring in the eighteenth century was a particularly favourite jewel. That considerable attention was paid at the time to the design and decoration of the ring, may be judged from Bourguet’s designs, which contain patterns for enamel-work intended for its enrichment. The beauty of the sentiments displayed on the rings of the time is nowhere more charmingly expressed than on an English wedding-ring at South Kensington, which is formed of two hands in white enamel, holding between the thumbs and first fingers a rose diamond in the shape of a heart set in silver and surmounted with a jewelled coronet. It bears the date 1706 (Pl. XXXVI, 3). Other rings of similar style have the bezel formed of two precious stones in the form of hearts united by a knot. Rings which served simply as souvenirs of affection were very popular. In addition to the plain gold ring engraved with a posy or motto, were rings containing a like sentiment read by means of the first letters of the stones with which they are set. The most typical ring of the period is perhaps the marquise ring, which dates from the second half of the century. The bezel, which is oblong, and either oval or octagonal, is often of such size that it covers the whole joint of the finger. It is formed of a plaque of transparent blue glass on matted gold, surrounded with diamonds, and set either with a single diamond, or with several arranged at regular intervals, sometimes in the form of a bouquet. Often instead of diamonds are pastes and even marcasite. Of other varieties of rings of the time it is necessary only to mention those set with Wedgwood cameos, or with stones such as moss-agates, and a form of agate somewhat similar, but of lighter colour, called the mocha stone. Mourning and memorial rings, of which this period was so prolific, will be spoken of subsequently. An ornament that showed a peculiarly wide development throughout the eighteenth century was the shoebuckle. Various kinds of buckles are recorded in the Caution to the Public, issued in 1733, in connection with his famous ware, by Edward, the son of Christopher Pinchbeck. They include the following: buckles for ladies’ breasts, stock-buckles, shoe-buckles. knee-buckles, girdle-buckles. Of these the most important was the buckle worn on the shoes of every one -man, woman, and child—attached to the latchet or strap passing over the instep. It assumed all sorts of forms and was made and enriched with every conceivable material. It is interesting to observe that in spite of the immense number produced, hardly any two pairs of buckles are precisely alike—this is shown in the case of the collection of Sir S. Ponsonby Fane, which contains upwards of four hundred specimens. Towards the last years of the century buckles began to be supplanted by shoe-strings. During this period of transition many attempts were made to foster their use.187 On tickets to public entertainments at the time one occasionally finds a notice that “Gentlemen cannot be admitted with shoe-strings.” The latter, however, won the day, and about the year 1800 shoe-buckles disappeared from use. The chatelaine was perhaps the most characteristic of all eighteenth-century ornaments. It was exceedingly popular, and formed, it may be observed, a very favourite object of the time for a wedding present. It usually consisted of a shield with a stout hook, sus pended from which were several chains united by another plate or shield which carried the watch. Besides this were two or more chains for holding the watch-key or seals. Extraordinary skill was exercised in the elaboration of chatelaines. The plaques, hinged or united by chains, withstood the incursion of the precious stone that dominated all other forms of jewellery, and afforded peculiar opportunities for the display of the art of the goldsmith in chased and repoussé metal-work enriched with exquisite enamels. The jeweller’s whole artistic skill was thus exhibited, not only upon the shields, but upon the solid links of the chains and upon the various breloques hung therefrom. The chief of the latter was of course the watch. Its dial-plate was enriched with enamel, and chased and coloured gold: even the hands when made of gold showed a high degree of skilled workmanship within a very small space. The principal ornamental part was, however, the outer case; and it may be maintained that there was not any species of work connected with the goldsmith’s art that was not displayed in its finest form upon watch-cases, more especially in the time of Louis XVI. Beside the watch was hung the watch-key and seals, and all sorts of ornamental knick-knacks, as étuis and such-like. The elaborate chatelaine upon which nearly every conceivable kind of trinket could be attached, is the “equipage” thus described by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu in her fourth Town Eclogue: Behold this equipage by Mathers wrought With fifty guineas (a great pen’orth!) bought! See on the tooth-pick Mars and Cupid strive, And both the struggling figures seem to live. Upon the bottom see the Queen’s bright face; A myrtle foliage round the thimble case; ove, Jove himself does on the scissars shine, The metal and the workmanship divine. While women carried elaborate chatelaines, men hung from the watch in the fob-pocket bunches of seals which dangled beneath their embroidered waistcoats. Thus in Monsieur à la Mode, published about 1753, we read ofA repeater by Graham, which the hours reveals; Almost overbalanced with nick-nacks and seals. It was the seal above all which experienced particular artistic development. Ever since the sixteenth century the seal had been worn in addition to the signet ring. Though hung perhaps like a pomander from a chain at the neck or from the girdle, the seal seems to have been but rarely displayed on the person until the general introduction in the early seventeenth century of the watch, to which for more than a couple of centuries it was a regular accompaniment. The majority of seventeenth-century seals are of silver with the arms engraved in the metal; others of steel are on swivels and have three faces; others, again, of gold set with stones engraved with heraldic devices, have finely worked shanks, occasionally enriched with delicate enamel-work. The gold seals of the eighteenth century, which are among the best examples extant of rococo jewellery, are of open-work in the form of scroll and shell patterns, of admirable design and workmanship. It is out of the question to attempt a description of the numerous attractive forms these pendent seals assumed, or the peculiar interest they possess from an heraldic point of view. About the year 1772 fashionable men carried a watch in each fob-pocket, from which hung bunches of seals and chains. From the custom set in England of introducing masculine fashions into dress, ladies likewise wore two watches, one on each side, together with rattling breloques, seals, and other appendages. In addition to the real watch with beautifully enamelled back which adorned the left side, they wore on the right what was called a fausse montre or false watch. These false watches were, however, often little less costly than the genuine article, being made of gold and silver, with jewelled and enamelled backs. The front had either an imitation dial-plate, some fanciful device, or a pin-cushion. For those of less ample means the fausse montre was made of gilt metal or even of coloured foils.
CHAPTER XXXIII
NINETEENTH-CENTURY JEWELLERY
THE MODERN REVIVAL
Jewellery of the nineteenth century presents a very variegated picture both as regards material and technique, as well as in the display of every conceivable style. It is not so much a particular character of its own that has marked the jewellery of each epoch of the century, as a peculiar form of reproduction or rather reconstruction of older styles of art, based for the most part on false traditions. The whole period was an eclectic one, and the majority of its productions—the result of nothing less than aimless hesitation and fruitless endeavour to revive the forms of the past—display at least doubtful taste. Throughout the greater part of the time France led the fashion, and every one of the political changes she underwent left its mark on her artistic productions. After the desolate epoch of the Revolution, under which the whole standard of jewellery was measurably lowered, a revival of something approaching luxury was experienced under the Directory. This was succeeded about the year 1800, owing to the stimulating dominance of the First Consul, by circumstances of real luxury. The period dating from Napoleon’s accession to the Imperial Dignity four years later, till about 1814, was one of considerable importance in the history of jewellery. The severe and academic influence of the leading and most popular artist of the day, the painter David. and of his pupils, with their extravagant taste for the antique, was universally felt. Yet while the antique celebrated its triumph in all directions, the Empire failed to shake itself entirely free from eighteenth-century styles. As far indeed as jewellery was concerned, the classical revival cannot be said to have been altogether unhappy; for its ornaments are not without a certain charm. Like all else, they breathed the spirit of the past, and are not less formal and rigid than the other art productions of the period. It was under the short-lived reign of the associated kings, termed the Directory, that the taste for the antique first became thoroughly dominant. Jewellery of all kinds assumed classical forms. The few individuals who were fortunate enough to procure them wore ancient Greek and Roman jewels; the rest had to be content with facsimiles of objects discovered at Pompeii, or simple copies adapted from representations on early vase paintings, sculptures, or engraved gems. So exaggerated became the enthusiasm for the antique that, following the lead of Madame Tallien and Madame Récamier, the fashionables of the period adopted in its entirety, without regard for differences of climate, what they deemed to be classical costume, and appeared on public promenades in Paris with unstockinged feet in sandals that allowed them to exhibit jewels upon their toes. The affected classicism of the Republic and First Empire stimulated the use of engraved gems. Far from cameos and the less decorative intaglios being considered out of place with fine precious stones, they often occupied positions of honour, surrounded and mounted occasionally with important diamonds. In the majority of cases, however, they were used alone and were made up into special ornaments by themselves. Antiques were worn when procurable, but the greater number of gems were of modern manufacture, carefully studied both as regards technique and style from ancient examples. Somewhat later, small mosaics, on which were figured classical subjects or buildings of ancient Rome, were also employed. These, together with cameos, generally on shell, were produced in quantities, particularly in Italy, where cameo cutters and mosaic workers still carry on a somewhat languishing trade in ornaments of this nature, Venice, Florence, and Rome sharing in the industry of mosaic jewellery Rome, Naples, and the whole of Southern Italy in that of cameos. The production of both kinds of objects is now in a sterilised condition. They have entirely lost their earlier qualities, for the reason that they find but little favour and have ceased to be worn by the upper classes. Except during the height of the First Empire the fashion for engraved gems never took a very thorough hold. Ladies have seldom a taste for archæology. If a few, in accordance with the current idea, affected a sober and refined style of ornament, the majority soon wearied of the burden of cameos in the necklace and bracelet, and preferred sparkling stones to the delicate cutting of the gem. The general and instinctive preference for brilliant jewels did more than anything to kill the attempted employment of antique forms and designs. As regards technique, the metal-work of the early nineteenth century generally displayed considerable poverty of material. The gold, if not pinchbeck imitation, was usually thin, light, and of low quality, with simple designs in the form of clusters of grapes. Borders of leaves and flowers in the antique style were stamped and chased sometimes in open-work, with small rose-shaped ornaments applied. Granulated, beaded, and purled work was much employed, and the surface of the metal was often matted. Artistic effect in chased work was produced by the use of ornamental inlays, or rather overlays, of coloured gold. Actual jewel-work and settings, as a rule, displayed good quality of workmanship. The general tendency lay in the direction of the coloured stones popular in ancient times—the topaz, peridot, aquamarine, and amethyst; together with precious stones, such as emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds, and with pearls. The latter were generally reserved only for the most sumptuous ornaments, but were occasionally used in conjunction with jewels of less value. The stones most commonly used were carnelians, moss-agates, turquoises, garnets, pink and yellow topazes, as well as coral, mingled together. Wedgwood ware and its imitations, popular in the latter years of the eighteenth century, continued for some time to meet with favour, while paste jewellery was also worn to some extent. On every species of jewellery the taste for the antique was clearly visible. Ornaments for the head took the form of frontlets and diadems, hair-combs, hair-pins, triple chains, and strings of pearls. Earrings were in general use, together with necklaces, brooches, bracelets, rings, and girdles. The chief head-ornaments were wide metal combs, fixed in the hair in such a manner as to be visible from the front. The general form of the Empire comb, with its upright rows of pearls or coral, is well known, since a number of examples exist. At the same time frontlets or tours de tête were worn on the upper part of the forehead and over the hair. These, enriched with pearls, cameos, or precious stones, took the form of broad bands or coronets. Another ornament, which did not, however, come into fashion till about 1820, was the ferronnièrea band round the head, with a jewel in the middle of the forehead. It was generally a fine gold chain, but might be made of velvet ribbon or silken cord, or strings of beads. The origin of its title has been given in connection with Italian jewellery of the fifteenth century. Cameos and moss-agates entered largely into the composition of necklaces as well as the various coloured stones mentioned above. Cameos often assumed considerable proportions. They were occasionally set with precious stones, and were linked together with fine chains. Bracelets were much worn, three on each arm: one on the upper part of the arm, a second just above the elbow, and a third upon the wrist. They were usually composed of a number of small chains, or even a band of velvet; while the clasp was formed by a cameo, or else an amethyst, peridot, or topaz set in stamped and pierced gold. Girdles for the most part were fashioned in the same manner as bracelets, with a large cameo on the clasp. The pictures in the gallery at Versailles afford perhaps the best idea of ornaments in the Empire style; since jewellery is more clearly represented on French portraits than on any others of the time. Among the most striking of such portraits are those of Marie Pauline, Princess Borghese, by Lefèvre, of Caroline Buonaparte, Queen of Naples, by Madame VigéeLebrun, and of Madame Mère, by Gérard. The first has a high comb and bandeau, earrings, and girdle, all decorated with cameos, the second a parure of pearls and cameos, and the third a head-ornament mounted with a single large cameo. The coronation of Napoleon in 1804 furnished the painter David with the subject of a picture unrivalled in its kind— “Le Sacre de Napoleon Ier à Notre-Dame,” which is exhibited in the Louvre. This grandiose production, besides being a truly epic rendering of a great historical event, serves as a valuable document in the history of jewellery, in that it represents jewellery of the most magnificent kind carried by Josephine, the princesses, and the ladies of honour. The Empress is shown wearing comb and diadem of precious stones, brilliant earrings, and a bracelet on the wrist formed of two rows of jewels united with a cameo. Her suite have, besides, necklaces and girdles mounted in several cases with cameos, Josephine herself possessed a perfect passion for engraved gems, and she actually induced Napoleon to have a number of antique cameos and intaglios removed from the gem collection in the Royal Library and made up into a complete parure of jewellery for her own use. A German speciality of the expiring Empire was the cast-iron jewellery, brought into favour largely on account of the prevailing scarcity of gold and silver. A foundry for its production was first set up in 1804 at Berlin, where articles of great fineness were cast in sand moulds. In the year 1813, the time of the rising against the Napoleonic usurpation, more than eleven thousand pieces of iron jewellery were turned out, and among them five thousand crosses of the new order of the Iron Cross. In that year appeared the well-known iron rings. During the War of Liberation, when every man joined the Prussian regiments to fight against the French, the patriotic ladies who remained behind laid at the Altar of the Fatherland their valuable jewels, which were melted down for the benefit of the national war-chest. For the articles thus surrendered they received in exchange from the Government iron finger rings bearing the words “Eingetauscht zum Wohle des Vaterlandes,” or the famous inscription “Gold gab ich für Eisen.” In addition to crosses and rings, other jewels, such as diadems, necklaces, brooches, and bracelets, were executed in cast iron, open-worked and in relief (Pl. LI, 8). Complete parures comprising a comb. necklace, earrings, and bracelets are not infrequently met with, and the name of the manufacturer, such as “Geiss, Berlin,” etc., is sometimes found stamped on them. Most of the work is in the antique taste, and is occasionally adorned with classical heads in the manner of Wedgwood and Tassie. Considering the material and method of production, the fineness and lace-like delicacy of this iron jewellery is little less than marvellous. Another kind of nineteenth-century ornament, particularly popular in the first half of the century, was hair jewellery. It was favoured possibly in some cases less by inclination than by that necessity which had originally led the way for the use of iron and other less valuable materials. Finger rings, bracelets, necklaces, and watch-chains were plaited of the hair of the departed, brooches and medallions mounted with it, and even ornamental landscapes constructed of strands of human hair. Hair was worn as a gift of affection from the living; but it was chiefly employed for mourning or memorial jewellery. It will be referred to again when mourning jewellery is dealt with. We enter about the year 1830 into the Romantic period—the days of the heroines of Balzac, the days when Byron and Ossian were à la mode, the days of a fancy chivalry and mediaeval sentimentality, of Sir Walter Scott, and above all of the Gothic revival. Gothic motives, rampant in architecture, make their appearance also on bookbindings, furniture, and other things, and influence jewellery to a certain degree. Among the leaders of the movement so far as it affected jewellery were the goldsmiths Froment Meurice, and Robin whose productions, executed in accordance with the Romantic taste, assumed the form of armoured knights, on foot, or fully equipped on horseback, lords and ladies in mediaval costume, and jewels which took the shape of compositions of a similar “elegant” nature. At this period cameos were still worn, but seldom of strictly classical character. Sentimental hair jewellery likewise continued, as did the iron jewellery. The latter, however, no longer displayed classical forms, but debased Gothic designs. Chains of various kinds were in considerable favour. They were usually looped up at intervals with circular or oblong plaques of thin and coloured gold set with small turquoises and garnets. With the development of machinery appeared thin goldwork, ornamented with stamped and pressed designs. Work of this kind, characteristic of its first decades, extended far into the nineteenth century. As far as men’s jewellery is concerned there is little or nothing to chronicle. Strangely enough, the masculine delight in splendid jewels that had existed up to the end of the eighteenth century, came all at once to an end, along with that older world on the ruins of which Napoleon rose. Almost all that remained to them was the bunch of seals, often of considerable size, that hung by a silken cord from the fob. It is true that occasionally beaux and macaronis actually wore earrings. But these were not employed solely as ornaments, but largely as the result of a fanciful idea, still prevalent in certain quarters, of the value of such objects against diseases of the eye. Fashion next, about the middle of the century, harked back to rococo, and imitated the style of Louis XV. It was rococo of a kind, but lay as far from the eighteenth century as did Romantic Gothic from the Gothic of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Design for the most part was deplorably bad, defects in this direction being passed off under a glitter of stones. Instead of the close setting which had so long satisfied the jeweller, open setting for precious stones became universal. Countless old and valuable ornaments perished. The diamonds and other precious stones were picked out of them and transferred to newer settings, and the beautiful old metal-work was ruthlessly melted down. Many fine jewels during the course of the nineteenth century have likewise been spoiled and reduced in value by their owners attempting to adapt them to a prevailing fashion. Vast is the number of family treasures that have undergone the fate of remounting. It is to be hoped that the new-born interest in the beautiful work of earlier craftsmen may help to save what is left from the same sort of destruction that the ancient churches of our land have undergone as the result of ill-judged “restoration.”
THE MODERN REVIVAL
Long prior to the developments that have taken place in recent years, attention had been attracted to the artistic qualities of gold and an impetus given to the manipulation of the simple material. It was early in the “sixties” that notice was first drawn to the gold jewellery then being executed in Rome, and the discoveries that had been effected in the working of the wrought metal by the firm of Castellani. The head of this famous family was the goldsmith Fortunato Pio Castellani, one of the best-known jewellers and dealers of his day. In 1814, at an early age, he started a business in Rome, which he developed about 1826 on the lines of the antique work. The process of production of the old granulated gold jewellery of the ancient Etruscans—that in which the surface is covered with minute grains of gold set with absolute regularity—had long been a puzzle and problem to jewellers. Castellani was deeply interested in the lost art, and searched Italy through to find some survival of it. At last in St. Angelo in Vado, a village of the Apennines, in the corner of the Umbrian Marches, he found a caste of local goldsmiths who had preserved it in what seemed to be an unbroken tradition. He transported some of them to Rome, and together with his sons Alessandro and Augusto succeeded in imitating the tiny golden grains of the Etruscans and soldering them on to the surface of jewels. The work he accomplished in this direction has become famous all the world over. In 1851 Fortunato retired, and on his death in 1865 his property was divided—Augusto retaining the business, Alessandro setting himself up as a collector and dealer. Augusto, born 1829, carried on the traditions of his father’s atelier, and was afterwards promoted to the Directorship of the Capitoline Museum. Alessandro, the elder brother, was perhaps one of the most striking personalities of his age. Born in 1824, he first assisted his father; but his political opinions, which led him to take an active part in the revolutionary movement in Rome in 1848, and implicated him in the conspiracy of 1852, resulted in his imprisonment in the Castle of St. Angelo; but successfully feigning madness, he was liberated and sent out of the Pontifical States. He then proceeded to travel about exploiting the productions of the Casa Castellani. Gradually he devoted himself to archæological pursuits. His knowledge of these matters was profound, and he became the finest expert of his day. He was continually collecting and dealt largely, his chief customers being the museums of Europe and America. The finest of the antique jewellery in the British Museum was purchased from him in 1872-1873. A few years before, in 1867, his unrivalled series of peasant ornaments, gathered together from all parts of Italy, was acquired by the Victoria and Albert Museum, which also made large purchases at the sale that took place after his death in 1883. The art of filigree and granulation practised by Castellani was carried to still greater perfection by another Italian, Carlo Giuliano, who was largely indebted to the discoveries of his compatriot. Examples of his work, with that of Castellani, are in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Since his death, his business house in London has been continued by his sons. Another Italian who has surpassed both Castellani and Giuliano in the reproduction of the antique is Melillo of Naples. His jewellery, though “copied closely from ancient models, has a certain modern cachet” and is in fact “a translation of the most refined ancient art into modern language.” An eminent English jeweller, whose name is worthy of record, was Robert Phillips of London, who died in 1881. He also came under the influence of Castellani. At the same time he was responsible for the production of some of the most original work executed in England during the Victorian era. A forerunner in France of the modern movement in artistic jewellery, and one entitled to a high place in the history of the art, was the goldsmith Lucien Falize (b. 1838), who was a partner with M. Bapst, crown jeweller of the Second Empire. He succeeded Bapst as official goldsmith to the French Government, and died in 1897. Another great French jeweller was Eugène Fontenay, author of the important history of jewellery, who died in 1885. Side by side with the improvement in taste which during the last few years has prompted people to preserve old jewellery, and a genuine love for its peculiar and indefinable attractions which has induced them to collect it, the present age has witnessed a truly remarkable revival in the artistic production of articles of personal ornament. The general awakening that has taken place in the industrial arts has nowhere made its influence more strongly felt than in respect to jewellery. Owing to the example set by the highest artistic spirits, which has affected even the ordinary productions of commerce, there has arisen a new school of jewellery, the residue of which, when the chaff of eccentricity on the one hand and coarse workmanship on the other is winnowed from it, consists in works which combine the charm and sense of appropriateness requisite to objects of personal adornment with qualities that mark them as individual works of art. The ornaments of the past reveal an elemental truth of art which it may be to the ultimate advantage of the decorative artificer of modern times to study and to imitate. They show, particularly in their most refined periods, that the simplest materials and the simplest modes of decoration can be associated with beauty of form and purity of design, and that the value of a personal ornament does not consist solely in the commercial cost of the materials, but rather in the artistic quality of its treatment. In the revival of the arts in the latter part of the nineteenth century the artistic styles of the past began to be carefully studied, and for the first time were brought together and exhibited as models. They have undoubtedly exercised a profound influence both on design and technique. It is well at the same time to remember that personal ornaments, as indeed all productions of former times, which are thus shown in museums, must not be reckoned with from one standpoint only. The intention of their public display is to afford material for instruction, investigation, and inspiration, for the craftsman, the student, and the “man in the street.” Their function in this respect is not only to produce artists and craftsmen, or even connoisseurs, but to inspire the lay public with a love of beauty, and to induce a divine discontent with the ugliness with which it is surrounded. Though it is very well to use and reproduce the forms and motives of the past, an indefinite persistence in that attitude is liable to be construed as a confession of æsthetic sterility. But while empty revivals and false adaptations are to be rejected, the reckless race after originality, resulting in the eccentricity which is so rife in modern art, should especially be avoided. It is the desire for originality instead of a modest devotion to fine workmanship, “a love for the outrageous and the bizarre, and a lack of proportion, both in form and in choice of material,” that has ruined much of the jewellery produced under the Nouveau Avt movement. If colour and form produced by a study of harmony and a limited appeal to nature could be united to elaboration and minuteness of finish, with symmetrical arrangements freed from purely mechanical detail of ornament; if more insight could be obtained into the spirit which produced those splendid fragments that have survived from the past, there would be a gradual return to a style of work wherein the inherent preciousness of material might be accompanied by a fuller appreciation of its artistic possibilities, and a way opened to the restoration of the art of the goldsmith to the honourable place it once held. Apart from matters of design the new movement has resulted in great changes in the artistic aspect of jewellery. In distinction to the tendency hitherto prevalent which bids the metal mounting of jewellery to be rendered almost invisible, the working of gold and silver has once again become a matter of some moment. A second change, due to the study of old models, has been the revival of enamelling—an art which offers many an opportunity for the exercise of the craftsman’s taste and skill, and has once again resumed its proper position as handmaid to the goldsmith. A third change has been the wider choice and employment of stones. Till recent years only those stones that are reckoned as fine—the diamond, ruby, emerald, and sapphire—have been allowed a place in jewellery. Though their commercial value can never be set aside, precious stones are now valued, as they were in Renaissance times, for the sake of their decorative properties. The taste for colour effects in jewellery has resulted in the adoption of certain gems not very precious, yet sufficiently rare, while the artistic value of broken colour in gems is beginning to be appreciated in purely commercial productions. There is now a welcome tendency to use such stones as the aquamarine, peridot, zircon, topaz, tourmaline, chrysoprase, and others of beautiful colour and high decorative value. For a precious stone, as has been truly said. “is not beautiful because it is large, or costly, or extraordinary, but because of its colour, or its position in some decorative scheme.” The present master of the jeweller’s art is René Lalique of Paris, universally recognised as the greatest of modern artists in this class of the fine handicrafts. He possesses a perfect mastery over materials of all sorts, even of such as ivory, horn, and mother-of-pearl, and above all enamel, especially that in open settings. To his wonderful dexterity of technique he unites a fertile imagination and infinite resource of design in the direction of naturalistic forms, as flowers, winged insects, and human figures. The style of Lalique, freed entirely as it is from the forms of tradition, is carried out by several artists of individual talent, such as Lucien Gaillard, Gaston Laffitte, Georges Fouquet, Comte du Suau de la Croix, Vever, René Foy, and Louis Bonny. It has, in addition, hosts of imitators, whose productions are wrought with rare skill, but display, nevertheless, singular disregard of appropriateness and utility, and are further marred in many cases by eccentricities of design. Much original, if not always very attractive, work has been produced also in Germany and Austria since the full expansion of the Nouveau Art movement about the year 1897. Among the first in Germany to display activity in the design and production of jewellery in the new style have been the artists Hirzel and Möhring, and Piloty of Munich. Van der Velde, Olbrich, and Schaper and J. H. Werner of Berlin have all obtained The a reputation for their work in this direction. movement has been fostered with success in the leading art schools, under the superintendence of Gnauth at Nuremberg, Hammer and Göss at Karlsruhe, Graff at Stuttgart and Dresden, and Luthmer at Frankfort. The chief centres in Germany for the production of jewellery are Pforzheim, Hanau, and Gmünd. The leading craftsmen of Pforzheim are Zerrenden, Fahrner, Friessler, and Stoffler; while Gmünd possesses the wellknown jeweller Hermann Bauer. Among the leaders of the new art movement in Austria are the sculptor Gurschner, Dietrich, Prutscher, and Franz Hauptmann; while Elsa Unger, Anna Wagner, and Eugenie Munk have carried out distinctive work on the same lines. Belgium has produced some able craftsmen in the persons of Paul Dubois the sculptor, Ph. Wolfers, and Van Strydonck. The modern school of Denmark possesses the artists Slott-Möller, Bindesböll, Magnussen, and Bollin. England, the pioneer of the latter-day renaissance of the decorative arts, can boast of a number of craftsmen of distinction in artistic jewellery. Among the leaders of the movement whose style and individuality have secured them recognition are Mr. H. Wilson, Mr. Henry H. Cunynghame, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Dawson, Mr. C. R. Ashbee, Mr. Harold Stabler, Mr. Edgar Simpson, Mr. Alexander Fisher, Mrs. Bethune, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Gaskin, Mrs. Newman, Mrs. Traquair, Mrs. Hadaway, Mr. and Mrs. Partridge, and Mr. F. S. Robinson. One may also name H.H. Princess Louise Augusta of Schleswig-Holstein, and H.H. the Ranee of Sarawak, in addition to a number of others whose work has figured in exhibitions such as those held by the Arts and Crafts Society. The name of Mr. A. Lazenby Liberty, who has done much to foster new design in England, likewise deserves mention. Messrs. Tiffany of New York have shown how artistic design may be combined with fine and rare gems—the natural instinct for which will have to be gratified so long as jewellery is worn. A number of other firms both in England and France have in recent years displayed remarkable advance in this direction, also, as in the case of Messrs. Boucheron, in a skilful combination of coloured stones, as well as in a reserved use of enamel. A hopeful sign for the future of this refined art is the thoroughness with which it is taught in schools of art throughout the country, and the eagerness and success with which it is practised also by a number of gifted amateurs. The work produced, though far behind that of continental craftsmen in point of execution, avoids many of the extravagances of the “new art,” and exhibits, for the most part, taste and reserve in design, and adaptability to ultimate uses.
CHAPTER XXXIV
PEASANT JEWELLERY
Until the middle of the nineteenth century the peasants and natives of every country district of Europe wore modest gold and silver jewellery, of small pecuniary value, but of great artistic interest. A few years ago peasant jewellery was seldom sought for, and comparatively unknown; and collectors, better informed in other respects, did not think of saving it from the melting-pot. It is now, however, beginning to attract some of the attention it deserves. This old peasant jewellery has at the present day nearly all passed out of the hands of its original owners. The chief cause of its disappearance has been increased facilities for travelling, which resulted in jewellery fashioned wholesale in industrial centres being distributed to the remotest rural districts. The demands of the modern collector, and improvements in present-day taste among certain of the cultured classes, which have led to the adoption of old articles of jewellery for personal use, have also contributed to the disappearance of peasant jewellery in recent years. The wiles of the dealer have induced peasants to yield up heirlooms, which, handed down for generations, have escaped the fate of the jewels of the wealthy and more fashionable. The great museums of art and industry springing up everywhere, especially in Germany, have all obtained a generous share of the spoil, and have preserved it from what, until lately, would have been inevitable destruction. So completely in most parts has this old jewellery gone out of use among the peasantry, that hardly a trace remains of a once flourishing industry carried on by local craftsmen working on traditional lines, and untrammelled by the artistic fashion of the moment. Machines driven by steam power have crushed out of existence skill to make things by hand, and the cold and monotonous production of the artisan has taken the place of the old work, whose peculiarly attractive character is due to its expressing the fresh ideas and inspiration of the artist. The French peasant jewel par excellence is the cross. It is suspended from the neck by a velvet ribbon, and varies in form according to localities. Its size is often in proportion to the social condition of the wearer. Sometimes it attains considerable dimensions. Fixed upon the velvet ribbon, and drawing it together just above the cross is a slide or coulant, in the form of a bow, rosette, or heart, and of the same style as the cross itself. In many provinces of France, such as Savoy, gold is reserved exclusively for married women -custom having it that all their jewels should be of that metal. Silver, on the other hand, is often employed solely for girls’ jewellery, possibly because it is considered the natural symbol of virginal purity, just as in ancient times it was consecrated to the virgin goddess, Diana. The most interesting and perhaps the best-known French peasant jewellery is that of Normandy and the Auvergne. The chief Norman jewel is the cross. The most usual form is that which occurs in the districts round St. Lò and Caen. It is of silver, formed of five high bosses, four round and one pear-shaped, each set with a large foiled rock crystal (commonly known as Diamant, Caillou, or Pierre d’Alençon) cut and faceted in the brilliant shape, and further ornamented with sprays set with small crystals in rose form. The lower limb of the cross, briolette or pear-shaped, is hinged, so as to render it less liable to get bent or broken in wear (Pl. LIII, 4). The spaces between the limbs are sometimes completely filled up with branched open-work set with small crystals. In the more northerly parts of France the cross is formed simply of large bosses set with crystals; but round about Rouen we meet with an abundance of spray-work. Other crosses of considerable size are formed of thin plates of pierced gold. The shape of the cross is indicated simply by crystal bosses, but its form is almost lost in the outline of the jewel. A favourite subject for representation on Rouennais jewellery is the Saint Esprit or Holy Dove. Employed as a breast-ornament or pendant, the Dove is either in gold or silver, mounted with crystals, or coloured pastes set close together. It is suspended from an ornament of open knot design, with a rosetteshaped slide above. In its beak is a branch, spray, or bunch of grapes, generally of coloured pastes. Peasant jewellery ceased to be worn in Normandy about 1840, when native costume was given up. While Normandy relies chiefly on crystal quartz for its jewellery, the Auvergne can boast of a variety of gems, such as garnets, opals, spinels, and zircons, which are of frequent occurrence in the volcanic rock of Central France. The jewellery of Puy is mounted with cabochon stones in large high settings. Open-work circular pendants have a central boss with eight similar settings around. The Saint Esprit is also a popular jewel, but in these parts the form of the Dove is not completely carried out, the jewel being composed merely of five pear-shaped bosses to indicate the wings, body, head, and tail of the bird. It is to be observed that the patterns of the jewels here alluded to are not entirely original inventions of the peasantry. As a matter of fact, they are often from precisely the same models as the jewellery in use in the seventeenth and early part of the eighteenth century, and are very similar in style to the large series of original designs in the National Art Library, South Kensington, executed about that time by the Santini family of Florence. Their technique is also traditional. This is shown by the presence on many of the peasant jewels of Southern France, as well as of other districts, of the painted enamel which came in about 1640, and continued in use for upwards of a century. While fashion has shifted scores of times since those days, types and styles of jewellery then set remained unchanged in these quarters until the great industrial revolution of the nineteenth century and the strange and universal decline of taste that accompanied it. Holland is one of the few countries that have retained their peasant jewellery. Not only is it displayed in abundance on festal occasions, such as weddings, but it is worn in everyday life by the well-to-do natives of the country districts. Much jewellery is employed in Zeeland. The country belles wear jutting out on either side of the lace cap curious corkscrew-like ornaments of gold, silver, or gilt metal, on which they hang pendants sometimes tipped with pearls. In the land of Goes a square gold ornament is pinned close to the face inside the lace halo that surrounds the head. Coral necklaces are worn, and jet ones for mourning. Boys have earrings and gold and silver buttons near the throat. The head-ornaments of North Holland and Utrecht consist of a broad thin band of gold or silver which encircles the skull and terminates at each end with the above-mentioned spiral ornaments. These bands are covered by a white muslin cap or by a cap decorated with coloured designs. The women of Gelderland display costly caps of gold beaten out to fit each individual head. In Overyssel the lace cap terminates with gold ornaments, and the coral necklace has clasps of gold filigree. Men and boys wear flat silver buttons on the coat and gold at the collar. At the waist is a pair of large hammered discs of silver. The natives of the fertile country of Friesland possess vast stores of jewellery, generally of gold set with diamonds. Very attractive peasant ornaments are still in use in Belgium. Long pendent crosses are worn, with earrings to match. They are of open-work floral and scroll designs, and are mounted with small rosettes set with rose diamonds—silver rosettes being applied to gold ornaments, gold to silver ones. The slide or coulant above the cross here forms part of the pendant, and is not, as in France, attached by the ribbon worn with it. The heart (Sacré Cœur) is not worn above the cross, as in France, but is used as a distinct ornament, as a rule in silver only. These open-work heart pendants, commonly found between Antwerp and Malines, and rarely elsewhere, have an opening in the centre hung with a movable setting, and a hinged crown-shaped ornament above. Instead of a crown is sometimes a flèche, two quivers and a bow—a love token. Flemish jewels. unlike the French, are set entirely with rose diamonds. The peasant jewellery of Norway and Sweden is mainly of silver filigree. Precious stones do not take an important place in it. When used they are more often than not false, and are only sparingly applied for the sake of their colour. Particularly characteristic of almost all the ornaments of these parts are numerous small concave or saucer-like pieces of metal, highly polished, or small flat rings. They are suspended by links, particularly from the large circular buckle which is the chief article of jewellery. Most ornaments are circular in plan. Besides being executed in filigree, many of them are embossed or else cast—a style of work admirably displayed on the huge silver-gilt crowns worn by Scandinavian brides. The peasant ornaments of Germany present many varieties of design. Silver filigree of various kinds is employed for almost all of them. In the northern districts amber beads are naturally the commonest form of necklace, while hollow balls of silver are also worn strung together. Large flat hair-pins are used, the expanded heads of which are ornamented with raised filigree. Swiss and Tyrolese peasant jewellery is largely composed of garnets or garnet-coloured glass set in silver filigree. So numerous are the different types of Italian peasant jewels that it is impossible to mention them all. Every small district, nay, every township, seems to have possessed ornaments that differed in some detail from those of its neighbours. Many of them display reminiscences of the antique. Their manufacture follows—or did till quite recent years—the old methods; the natives of certain out-of-the-way districts in Umbria still working in very much the same manner as the ancient Etruscans. All ornaments are somewhat voluminous. The head is uncovered, and presents an extensive field for hair-ornaments. The Lombards have all sorts of hair-pins, often a couple of dozen, stuck in nimbus fashion, and through them crosswise is passed another pin with an oval head at each end. rrings are likewise of considerable dimensions, but light in spite of their size. Their surfaces are very frequently set with seed pearls. The finest existing collection of Italian peasant jewellery is that in the Victoria and Albert Museum, purchased from Signor Castellani in 1867. Of great beauty is the jewellery of the shores of the Adriatic, and that of the Greek Islands, probably made by descendants of the Venetian goldsmiths, and commonly known by the title of “Adriatic” jewellery (Pl. LIV). It is of thin gold, on which are shallow cells filled with opaque enamels. Crescent-shaped earrings are formed of pendent parts hung with double pearls. Dating from the seventeenth century are elaborate and delicate pendants in the shape of fully rigged ships enriched with painted enamel and hung with clusters of pearls. Beautiful work of a similar nature was also produced in Sicily. Hungarian and Spanish peasant ornaments have already been alluded to. In both these countries we find the native filigree enamel in sixteenth-century work, and painted enamel in that of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Spanish jewellery frequently takes the form of pendent reliquaries. It is usually of stout silver filigree, bearing traces of Moorish design. The Moorish style is also felt on Portuguese jewellery, which displays in addition a certain amount of what appears to be Indian influence. It is composed of gold filigree of very fine workmanship. Earrings and neck-chains are of such proportions that they reach respectively to the shoulders and the waist. In addition to the cross, star, heart, and crescent-shaped pendants are worn. A favourite form is one resembling an inverted artichoke. Openings are left in its surface, and within these spaces and on the edges of the jewel are hung little trembling pendants (Pl. LIII, 2). Portuguese jewellery of the eighteenth century, largely set with crystal, is admirably represented in the Museum of Fine Arts at Lisbon.
CHAPTER XXXV
JEWELLERY IN PICTURES
One aspect of the present subject, more attractive perhaps than any other, is that which concerns the representation of personal ornaments in pictures. Scarcely as yet have pictures been fully appreciated from the point of view of their utility to antiquaries or the light they throw upon matters of historical inquiry. The important part which from the fifteenth century onwards they have played in connection with the subject of jewellery is sufficiently attested by the number of times they have already been referred to during the course of the present inquiry. The truth, reality, and accuracy of the artists’ work has eminently contributed to the value of these pictures. A sympathetic way of seeing things and reproducing them and a fine feeling for naturalistic detail is characteristic of all the work of the painters of early times, when a strength of realism made its wholesome influence universally felt. Such works, while they display the grandeur and magnificence of former ages and point out the fashions and customs of our ancestors, show in detail not only the bright splendour of patterned draperies in many materials, but also the shimmer of goldsmith’s work in the form of a variety of actual ornaments, now for the most part entirely lost. In this way they set before us details unnoticed by chroniclers, and convey clearer ideas than can be attained by reading the most elaborate descriptive inventories. The special capability of the early painters for representing articles of jewellery need merely be alluded to again, seeing the close connection, already shown, that always existed between them and the goldsmiths, in whose workshops most of them passed their apprenticeEvery jewelled ornament figured in their works ship. is, in fact, designed with the full knowledge of a goldsmith versed in his craft. The artists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries are notorious for the extreme and elaborate minuteness of their painting of jewels. In the portraits of the time careful accuracy in depicting ornaments was the duty, and evidently the delight, of the painter. In every early picture the various details of costume and jewellery are rendered with scrupulous care and refinement. Though placed in the most prominent and decorative positions jewellery was never, in the best works, allowed to intrude or to occupy an exaggerated place in the composition. For however minutely defined these accessories may be, they are so fused into the general design that they are only apparent if one takes the trouble to look for them. In addition to recognised masterpieces, there exists a vast number of pictures obviously not by the first masters, which, though of only moderate quality, do not actually offend by their inferiority. These equally well serve to illustrate details of jewellery and dress. In a picture of the first order such details, of importance in themselves, sink into insignificance beside the splendid qualities of a work of art: in less important pictures the ornamental accessories are all in all. It would be of great value to students if all public collections that possess costumes and ornaments could bring together—as has been done with marked success in the Germanic Museum at Nurembergseries of portraits specially chosen to illustrate these details, such portraits, like the actual articles of dress and jewellery, being, of course, old ones, not modern copies. We may state, in general, that jewels figured in portraits are to be relied upon as being the actual objects possessed by the persons represented. All the early painters displayed, as has been said, a special love for jewel forms. They not only took their beautiful models as they found them, but being themselves mostly masters of the jeweller’s craft, they devoted much attention to the adornment and the arrangement of the jewels of their models. It may be urged that painters are apt to indulge their fancy by decorating their sitters with jewels they do not possess, introduced to improve the colour or arrangement of the picture, or introduced in accordance with orders, like those of the good Mrs. Primrose, who expressly desired the painter of her portrait to put in as many jewels as he could for the money, and “not to be too frugal of his diamonds in her stomacher and hair.” It is unlikely, on the contrary, that any of the early painters departed from their usual methods of truth, reality, and accuracy; or, considering the elaborate detail with which they depicted jewellery, that they ever specially invented it for the portrait in which it occurs. It is much more probable that they worked from what they saw : for masters of painting have in all ages worked from models in preference to carrying out their own designs. An instance may be cited of the care which painters paid to the ornaments of their sitters. Preserved in the Archivio di Casa Gerini at Florence are certain unpublished documents188 of the years 1579 to 1584 relating to the artist Alessandro Allori, in which is a list of the clothes and jewels that had been lent him from the wardrobe of the Grand Duchess, Bianca Cappello, when he was painting her portrait. One or two of the peculiarities of artists in representing jewellery are worthy of being mentioned. It is to be observed that the presence or absence of gilding on jewellery often serves to distinguish between German and Flemish paintings. Holbein almost always employed gold upon golden objects; but in the works of Mabuse, so rich in elaborate detail, paint alone suffices to produce the effect. The artists of those days possessed a marvellous facility for imitating the brilliance of gold by colour alone, In examining the jewellery of sixteenth and seventeenth century portraits numbers of what appear to be black stones are frequently to be seen. These were evidently intended to represent diamonds. From early times, when the custom existed of improving, as it was considered, the colour of all stones by the use of foils, diamonds—the old stones of Golconda and Brazil, different in colour and quality from the diamonds of to-day—were usually backed with a black varnish composed of lamp-black and oil of mastic. This tinctura, or colouring of the diamond, which is alluded to by Cellini, would account for the intense and clear blacks and whites used by the artists of the time in depicting that precious stone. In the work of some of the finest painters of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, so masterly is the handling, that in the contemplation of broad effects one may fail to notice how much detail the artists were able to combine with such breadth. In fact the detail they displayed is hardly less precise than that of the earlier painters. Mr. Davies189 has some interesting remarks to make on the different modes of depicting jewellery adopted by first-class painters—by the one who paints it in detail and the other who treats it with freedom. The first paints you, touch by touch, his chains, his bracelets, his tiara, link by link, and gem by gem, with precision so great that if you called in a fairly capable goldsmith, of little or no intelligence, he would use them as a pattern and produce you an exact facsimile. The second obtains his result by summarized knowledge, letting his line lose itself and find itself again, a flash on a link, a sparkle on a gem suggesting all to the eye with a completeness which is fully as complete as the literal word for word translation of the other man. Call in a really intelligent goldsmith to this work and he would find it quite as easy as, or even easier than, the other to understand and reproduce from, but it would not do to make a tracing from, nor give as a pattern to one of his unintelligent apprentices. Very attractive and valuable guides to the jewellery of the early period are the early Flemish-Burgundian paintings (p. 90), and those of the Italian masters of the fifteenth century (p. 167). The most fertile of sixteenth-century pictures for the present purpose are the German (p. 189), as may be judged from Herr Luthmer’s Goldschmuck der Renaissance, in which are reproduced in colours a number of specimens of jewellery figured in contemporary pictures. In the second half of the sixteenth century and the early part of the seventeenth, the painters of the Low Countries especially excelled in the delineation of jewel forms. Among these artists are Sir Antonio More, Peter Pourbus, Lucas de Heere, Zucchero, Marc Gheeraerts, D. Mytens, Van Somer, and Janssens. By these and by numerous followers of Holbein, many pictures were painted, and exist in England at the present day. The technique of the great Dutch and Flemish painters of the seventeenth century, even of such as Frans Hals, was not incompatible, as Mr. Davies has shown, with the clear representation of personal ornaments. The majority of pictures of the early part of the eighteenth century offer but slight indication of the jewellery of the time. The conventional style of portraiture which then found favour did not allow such individual characteristics as personal ornaments to obtain a place in the portrait. In the canons for painters laid down by C. A. Du Fresnoy of Paris, entitled De arte graphica, which ruled artists of the first half of the eighteenth century, it was particularly enjoined that “portraits should not be overladen with gold and jewels.” “The portrait painters,” as Reynolds expressed it in speaking of his predecessors as far back as Lely and Kneller, “had a set of postures (and ornaments too) which they applied to all persons indiscriminately.” Seeing the reliance that may be placed on the jewellery figured in the portraits of earlier times, it is not unnatural to expect such detail to be of considerable service in art criticism. In the identification of a portrait much may rest on the identification of its jewels: for “a portrait,” as Mr. Andrew Lang says, “with the jewels actually owned by the subject, if not ‘the rose’ (for it may be a copy of a lost original) has certainly been ‘near the rose.’” But critics seldom think of examining the numerous extant royal and noble inventories and other documents such as wills containing lists of jewels, and of comparing the jewels described in them with those displayed in portraits. This method, neglected as a rule in criticism, has been employed by Mr. Lang with conspicuous success in his Portraits and jewels of Mary Stuart, and has served to identify the remarkable portrait of the Scottish Queen in the possession of Lord Leven and Melville. Interesting as it is when the jewels depicted in the portraits are identical with those described in their owners’ inventories, it is even more so when the actual jewels thus represented have survived to the present day, such as is the case with the Penruddock Jewel shown in Lucas de Heere’s portrait of Sir George Penruddock; the Drake Jewel in Zucchero’s portrait of Sir Francis Drake; the Lyte Jewel in the portrait of Mr. Thomas Lyte; the earring of Charles I belonging to the Duke of Portland, shown in Van Dyck’s portraits and the earrings of Henrietta Maria in Lord Clifford’s possession, shown in portraits of her painted by the same artist.
CHAPTER XXXVI
FRAUDS AND FORGERIES
Owing to the important position that jewellery occupies in the domain of virtu, it is natural that it should receive particular attention at the hands of the fraudulent. On the question of frauds of jewellery we have to distinguish between forgeriesarticles professing to be genuine ancient works of art -and counterfeits—imitations of real objects. Long before the forger, as we define him, set to work on the field of jewellery, there existed the business of the imitator of precious stones and precious metals—one of counterfeit rather than of forgery. The production of false gems dates from the time that precious stones first came to be generally worn as personal ornaments. The manufacture of imitations, intended in many cases to pass as real stones, was an limportant branch of the art of the famous glassworkers of antiquity. These glass gems, or pastes as they are termed, were largely set in rings to meet the tastes of the poorer classes; and are referred to by Pliny as the glass gems from the rings of the multitude. Wouldbe smart individuals, also, are frequently satirised by Martial for wearing in their rings glass pastes which they attempted to pass off as real stones. At the same time coloured foils were placed as the backing to transparent stones, and were employed to give a full hue to inferior-coloured stones. precious Besides being employed for jewellery, stones were made use of by the mediæval embroiderers to increase the effect of the coloured materials and gold thread in the decoration of their robes. But when we bear in mind the accurate descriptions given by Theophilus in his Diversarum Artium Schedula of the process of making false gems, it is only reasonable to assume that many of the so-called jewels were not in fact real gems, but imitations. Certain it is that in mediaeval times the counterfeiting of precious stones was very largely carried on, while many accounts are preserved in early records of fines and other punishments inflicted on dishonest traders in gems who attempted to dispose of spurious stones, usually set in finger rings. In England and France during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries it was customary for the jewellers’ guild of each town to have a rule prohibiting its members from setting paste gems in real gold or reagems in plated metal; from mounting Scottish pearls with those of the East; or mingling coloured glass, or false, with precious stones. As in earlier periods, a crystal or a colourless paste was made to imitate a coloured stone by backing it with a foil. At South Kensington an example exists, set in a gold ring of sixteenth-century German work (No. 1206-03), of a white crystal, which is cut en cabochon and backed with a red foil, and bears a striking resemblance to a carbuncle (Pl. XXIII, 17). Many books on precious stones, both old and new, give receipts for the manufacture of imitation gems, made of flint glass and coloured with oxides according to the originals they are intended to counterfeit. Apart from these are false gems produced with really fraudulent intent. Since imitation stones cannot resist the file, it is the practice, besides backing a crystal with coloured foil, to back a thin layer of genuine stoneintended to resist the test when examined for hardness -with a layer of glass coloured as required. Another process of fabrication consists of placing a layer of glass between two layers of true stone. The place of the join in the “triplet” is hidden by the collet of the setting, and the deceit can only be detected by unsetting the stone and soaking it in chloroform. Another means employed for changing and improving the colours of stones is by heat, for the colour of nearly all gems is affected by heating. Not pastes only but clear crystals have long been palmed off on the unwary for diamonds. Perhaps the best-known of these were crystals of quartz found in the Clifton limestone near Bristol, which went by the name of Bristol diamonds. They are alluded to as worn in the ears by the fop described in Lenton’s Young Gallant’s Whirligigg (1629). Quartz crystals found in the tin mines of Cornwall, and similar stones from the neighbourhood of Harrogate, still known respectively as Cornish and Harrogate diamonds, were also much employed for jewellery from the sixteenth century. Transparent stones from various parts of the Continent are given the names of the localities in which they are found. In France, rock crystal, cut in rose or brilliant form, went generally by the name of Pierre d’Alençon or Caillou du Rhin. Of the transparent glass paste termed Stras or Strass we have already spoken. Though an imitation, the paste of eighteenth-century jewellery does not necessarily belong to the category of frauds and counterfeits, since it possesses a certain originality of its own, and does not appear to have been generally worn with intent to deceive. False or mock pearls on the other hand seem in some way to be rather more associated with deception, though they also can be made to serve for decorative purposes entirely apart from any such intent. To reproduce the lustre or “orient” characteristic of oriental pearls, use is made in the fabrication of imitations of a pearly essence known as essence d’orient, obtained from the silvery scales on the underside of a fish called the bleak. Beads of blown glass slightly opalescent and treated with acid to produce an iridescent surface are coated internally with a film of the essence, and wax is then introduced to give the bead the desired weight. Other mock pearls are made up of a vitreous composition formed largely of the pearl essence. Their surface when burnished presents a fine lustre. These are generally termed Venetian pearls. Roman pearls are formed of external coatings produced by frequent dippings into a solution made of the pearliest parts of the oyster. From earliest times frauds have been committed in connection with the precious metals. The goldsmiths and jewellers of the Middle Ages were forbidden to work in base metal, to use false stones of glass, or to put coloured foil beneath real stones. They were further expressly forbidden to manufac ture personal ornaments for secular use of gilt or silvered copper or brass. Documents in the archives of the City of London contain many references to the perpetration of fraud in passing off as real, objects of brass or latten that had been silvered or gilded. In 1369 a conviction and punishment by the pillory took place for selling to divers persons rings and fermails of latten, of coloured gold and silver, as being made of real gold and silver, in deceit, and to the grievous loss, of the common people; and in 1376 a workman was imprisoned for having silvered 240 buttons of latten, and thirty-four latten rims for gipcieres, and having maliciously purposed and imagined to sell the same for pure silver, in deceit of the people. From actual objects that have survived it would seem that the more heinous offence was not infrequently committed of plating with silver the baser metals of tin, lead, and pewter. The statutes of the goldsmiths ordained that no jeweller should sell any article of silver unless it was as fine as sterling, “nor sett it to sell before it be touched” with the leopard’s head and maker’s mark. But exceptions were always made in favour of small articles of jewellery which could not reasonably bear the same touch. Such materials as pinchbeck and Similor and the plated objects of modern times hardly fall within the present category. Actual forgeries of personal ornaments can scarcely be said to have been committed until comparatively recent years—not, in fact, until the demand for specimens of old jewellery on the part of the antiquary and connoisseur rendered their reproduction profitable.190 Owing to the high prices they command from collectors, or to various facilities afforded for their production and disposal, three classes of objects—Greek and Etruscan jewellery, mediaval rings, and enamelled pendants of the Renaissance—offer the strongest temptation to the forger; and he on his part displays such an amount of skill and ingenuity, that the fabrication of spurious antiquities of this kind may be said to have amounted almost to a fine art. The much sought after gold jewellery of Greece and Etruria has received more attention than any other, partly on account of the fact that gold is subject to but slight oxidisation; for the patina of age is lacking even on ancient examples. Setting aside the beautiful imitations by such artists as Castellani, father and sons, and later by Melillo and Giuliano—which clever reproductions are known to have been sometimes foisted upon collectors by unscrupulous dealers—a great deal of really false work made with the intent of passing for old has been produced in Italy-chiefly at Rome, Naples, and Florence. On the subject of such pseudo-antiques Count Tyszkiewicz has several good stories to tell in his Memories of an Old Collector. Of all objects of this kind, that which has claimed the largest share of public attention is the notorious “Tiara of Saitapharnes,” which deceived several well-known authorities, and reposed for several years as a genuine antique in the Louvre, until the revelation in 1903 of the person of its ingenious author—a Russian Jew of Odessa. The disclosure of this remarkable fraud was the climax of a long series of forgeries of ancient Greek jewellery from Southern Russia, which, purporting to be recovered from the Greek tombs of Olbia and Kertch, long renowned for their wealth in such objects, were purchased by more than one well-known collector. So keenly has the forger pursued his evil course in this particular domain, that, apart from that preserved in museums and in the cabinets of collectors whose personal judgment is sound on such matters, M. Eudel goes so far as to say that the greater portion of the antique jewellery extant is of recent fabrication. Mediæval ornaments of all sorts are forged at the present day upon the Continent to a considerable extent, though less than are those of later times. One important centre of their production is Paris. Another, in earlier years in particular, was Frankfort, where visitors to watering-places on the Rhine have long been the victims of fraudulent vendors. Such mediæval objects, however well supported by a dealer’s warranty of place and time of discovery, require, says Mr. King, to be examined by the amateur with a very suspicious and critical eye. Among other personal ornaments of this period that have received attention at the hands of the forger are the leaden badges known as pilgrims’ signs. Many ingenious forgeries of the kind were produced about forty-five years ago, and purported to be brought to light by workmen engaged in excavations near the Thames in the City of London. These were in large part the work of two illiterate mud-rakers on the banks of the river; while articles of like kind were shortly afterwards made by two men known as “Billy and Charley,” who manufactured a number of curious pendent medals of lead and “cock-metal.”191 The discovery in the Seine, about the same time, of many genuine pilgrims’ signs led to the circulation also in France of a quantity of spurious objects of a similar nature. Renaissance pendants, the prizes of the connoisseur, are favourite subjects for reproduction at the present day, for, unlike the earlier objects, they are not illadapted for personal use. Jewellery in the Cinquecento style has for several years past been made in large quantities at Vienna. These jewels are generally not in gold, like the works they profess to imitate, but in silver-gilt, and as a result their enamel is never of fine quality, their general appearance is not up to the standard of the old, and their workmanship is mostly very mechanical. Apart from these and similar works, made also in France and generally sold in jewellers shops as modern productions, there are others which pretend to age. Though one seldom meets with examples that approach the best productions of the Renaissance, objects of the kind are occasionally imitated with such proficiency, that in collecting specimens of early jewellery in no instances is it necessary to exercise greater caution than in those of the Cinquecento. Fine jewellery of the eighteenth century, now almost equally sought after—watches, chatelaines, rings, and brooches—has been multiplied in quantities during recent years. As the brooches of this date are very often mounted with rose-cut diamonds, care has been taken to employ stones cut in this manner. Their settings generally distinguish the copies. Again, as M. Eudel points out, when fine old diamond-work has been sent to be reset, the jeweller preserves the old mounts, sets them with modern stones or pastes, and sells them as genuine old work. For the purpose of furthering the deception complete parures purporting to be seventeenth or eighteenth century work are offered for sale in genuine old leather or shagreen cases. A set of jewels may even be made for the special purpose of fitting such a case, or an entirely new case constructed, and treated in such a manner as to give it an appearance of age.

CHAPTER XXXVII
MEMENTO MORI
“I will keep it, As they keep deaths’ heads in rings, To cry memento to me.”
The study of the various forms of personal ornament by means of which the memory of the dead or of death itself has been preserved by the living is one which offers a wide field for investigation. The Egyptians enforced the precept “Memento Mori” by introducing at their banquets a small coffin containing the image of a corpse which, according to Herodotus, was shown to each guest. In classical times skeletons were rarely represented, though one is sculptured on a tomb at Pompeii. The warning “Memento Mori” manifested itself in divers fashions in the Middle Ages, the most conspicuous being the famous “Dance of Death,” which made its début in the fourteenth century, and was figured by Holbein in the sixteenth. Testimony of the desire of all to keep the warning constantly before the mind is borne by personal ornaments of various kinds displaying emblems of mortality. In order to arrive at the meaning of these crude emblems so often applied to objects of jewellery, regard should be paid to the feelings of the times that gave them birth. During the latter period of the Middle Ages the grim and ascetic contemplation of death caused the artists of that period to represent it as the devil, the father of sin, horned and cloven-hoofed, carrying off the sinful souls and forcing them into the mouth of hell. But when during the fifteenth century, “printing excited men’s imaginations, when the first discovery of the ancient classics roused their emulation and stimulated their unrest, when the Renaissance in art increased their eagerness to express their thoughts and multiplied their methods of expression,”192 and their conscience was turned to the latter end and the unseen world, then at length did death appear, no longer as the father of sin, but altered into a familiar and human personification. Side by side with the strange vigour and extraordinary joy in life that marked the period, there existed a great contempt for the value of life and a gross familiarity with death. It was Death himself, according to the imagination of the sixteenth century, who, always at hand, clutched men of every age and condition by the sleeve and hurried them all unwillingly away. The emblems of death were always presented in close touch with the living. The forms they took—the skeleton, or simply the skull, or Death’s head, with crossbones—were rendered in the sixteenth century by both painter and sculptor; but it was reserved for the goldsmith—the sculptor and painter in one—to represent them on jewellery through the medium of the precious metals enriched with gems and coloured enamels. They figured on every kind of ornament. Brooches with enamelled skulls were fastened as enseignes upon the hat; golden jewels like funereal objects in shape of coffins holding enamelled skeletons hung from the neck; rosary beads, pomanders and watches in the form of human skulls were attached to the waist; and rings bearing Death’s heads and other emblems were worn upon the fingers. A great impetus was given to the use of such articles of adornment by Diana of Poitiers when she became mistress of Henry II of France. She was then a widow in mourning; and the complaisant Court not only adopted her black and white as the fashionable colour, but covered their personal ornaments with emblems of death. Jewels of this description, it is clear, were not necessarily carried in remembrance of any special individual. With their legend “Memento mori” they were simply reminders of Death in the abstract. As such they characterised exactly the temper of the time, and were quite commonly worn by the upper and middle classes, especially by those who affected a respectable gravity. At the time of which we now speak the personal badge or devise, an obscure expression of some particular conceit of its wearer, was at the height of fashion. In its elaboration the various emblems of death were largely put under contribution, their choice for the purpose being the outcome of the special disposition of those who adopted them. Perhaps the most notable instance of the representation of a badge of this kind is in Holbein’s famous “Ambassadors,” in the National Gallery. Here Jean de Dinteville, who stands on the left of the picture, wears a circular jewel formed of a white enamelled skull in a gold mount, pinned as an enseigne to the lower rim of his small black bonnet. Amongst sundry ornaments bearing mortuary devices, there is a good example at South Kensington—a Memento Mori charm of enamelled gold in the form of a coffin containing a minutely articulated skeleton. It is English work of the Elizabethan period, and was found at Tor Abbey, Devonshire (Pl. XLIV, 16). No article of decoration has been more extensively used as a “Memento Mori” or for memorial purposes than the finger ring. The association of the ring is largely with affairs of the heart, and lovers are united with it. And since the form itself is emblematic of eternity, so by this same token of affection has the memory of departed friends been kept green. The sepulchral emblems referred to were not made use of for mediæval ornaments. But in the sixteenth century they were very frequent, especially on rings. One of the most remarkable specimens of the wondersul mastery over technical difficulties which stamps the goldsmith’s work of this time is a “Memento Mori” ring of German work in the Waddesdon Bequest. Its bezel or top is in the form of a book, decorated at each corner with a diamond, emerald, sapphire, and ruby, with snakes and toads between them. In the centre is a death’s head. The lid on opening discloses a recumbent figure with skull and hour-glass. On the shoulders of the ring, supporting the bezel, are figures of Adam and Eve representing The Fall and Expulsion from Eden. All the figures are enamelled in high relief, and though merely a fraction of an inch in size are executed with extraordinary fidelity. A ring described as having belonged to Mary Stuart is in the possession of the Earl of Ilchester. Its bezel, composed of a large ruby cut in the form of a death’s head and set with diamond eyes, is supported underneath by cross-bones in enamel. Woeiriot s beautiful collection of designs for rings, of the vear 1561, contains a ring of this kind surmounted with a skull and cross-bones; and Gilles Légaré’s Recueil of a century later has an engraving of similar pattern (Pl. XL). English rings of the sixteenth century have a death’s head carved in intaglio on carnelian, or sunk in the metal of the ring and sometimes filled with enamel. Around is the motto “Memento Mori,” and similar expressions in Latin or in English (Pl. XXXVI, 12). A certain Agnes Hals whose will is dated 1554 bequeathed to her niece “my rynge of gold with the wepinge eie,” and to her son “my rynge with the dead manes head.” From the commencement of the seventeenth century Memento Mori rings begin to be worn also as memorials of the departed, and bequests of money were frequently made for their purchase. The decoration of many of the rings of this period is very curious. On some the death’s head in its natural shape is beautifully formed in enamel, has small diamond eyes, and is supported on each side by skeletons bent along the hoop of the ring The bezel of others is of crystal in the shape of a coffin, the lid of which on being removed discloses a skeleton. Widows on the death of their husbands sometimes converted their wedding rings into memorial rings. This was done by engraving outside an elongated skeleton, the bones of which were brought into prominence by a background of black enamel. Inside the memorial rings of the time was often a motto or posy, appropriate for the purpose, sometimes rhyming: Prepared be To follow me; or I restless live, yet hope to see That day of Christ, and then see thee. Rings of this kind, commonly known as mourning rings, were frequently given, together with gloves and hat-bands, to those who attended at funerals. They were inscribed, in addition to a posy, with the initials of the deceased and the date. Evelyn at his son’s funeral in 1658 distributed a number of rings with the motto “Dominus abstulit.” At Pepys’ funeral upwards of a hundred and thirty rings were given to friends and relatives. Mention must be made, amongst other memorial jewellery, of the various objects worn in memory of Charles I. Most of these are finger rings containing a portrait of the ill-fated monarch, which were made and worn by Royalists after his execution. Some are so contrived that the portrait can only be discovered by opening a lid formed of a table diamond. They were doubtless used by those for whom devotion of the kind was dangerous. Other jewels worn in memory of the Royal Martyr were heart-shaped lockets, inscribed and decorated in a suitably funereal manner with skulls. cross-bones, and like emblems. An important group of ornaments, dating from the time of Charles II to that of Queen Anne, are those in the form of small memorial brooches, lockets, bracelet clasps, buttons, and slides with loops at the back for attachment to a velvet band. They are of considerable interest in that they represent almost the only surviving examples of English jewellery of the time. The Franks Bequest in the British Museum contains several specimens. They usually have letters in a fine filigree of gold entwined in a monogram, laid on a ground of crimson silk, and covered with a thick crystal set in gold. The gold filigree, which is of extraordinary delicacy, is often laid on braids of hair arranged in various designs, and accompanied by the skull and cross-bones. The crystal covering is sometimes cut in table form, but is more often rose-cut. The locket surrounded with pearls shown on Plate XLIV has on its surface no less than a hundred facets. Memorial rings of the same period have bezels with similar designs beneath a rose diamond or faceted crystal. Their hoops are mostly enamelled black on the shoulders. In the second quarter of the eighteenth century the mortuary emblems of skull and cross-bones in general disappear. The hoop of the ring is shaped in the form of a scroll or ribbon, and set with a small diamond, a coloured stone, or usually a white crystal. Around the hoop is inscribed in enamel the name and age of the deceased, and date of death. Black enamel was used for those who had been married; while white was employed for the unmarried—just as it was the practice at the funeral of an unmarried man or woman for the mourners and attendants to be clothed in white. Mourning jewellery was extremely popular in England towards the end of the eighteenth and in the early part of the nineteenth century. The variety of design in objects of the kind then in use, and the ingenuity displayed in their production, may well be judged from a collection numbering upwards of one hundred and fifty specimens in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Some mementoes of the deceased are simply miniature portraits, as well as cameos and silhouettes, the miniature sometimes taking the form of a single eye set round with pearls or diamonds. But in most cases it appears to have been the custom to wear in lockets, brooches, and rings microscopic devices—works of infinite patience and skill—wrought in hair, with initials and other designs cunningly worked in seed pearls. There were also, sometimes, paintings in grisaille (Pl.XLVII, 2, 3). These often represented a lady in mourning garb weeping over a funeral urn, in the style of the ornament worn by Mr. Wemmick, the attorney’s clerk in Great Expectations, of whom Dickens gives the following inimitable description: “I judged him to be a bachelor from the frayed condition of his linen, and he appeared to have sustained a good many bereavements; for he wore at least four mourning rings, besides a brooch representing a lady and a weeping willow at a tomb with an urn on it. I noticed, too, that several rings and seals hung at his watch chain, as if he were quite laden with remembrances of departed friends.” Further on Mr. Wemmick himself describes his personal jewellery, and concludes by remarking: “I always take ‘em. They’re curiosities. And they’re property. They may not be worth much, but, after all, they’re property and portable. … My guiding-star always is, Get hold of portable property” The painted brooches backed with hair and set round with pearls form, as a matter of fact, very pretty jewels, in spite of the sombreness of their subject and the trivial sentimentality of their mottoes, which run in this vein: “Whose hair I wear—I loved most dear.” Mourning jewellery was usually set with pearls, garnets, or more often jet. The last, until a short while ago, was in universal favour, and was fashioned into all sorts of ornaments. It fortunately now meets with but little demand. The same applies to hair jewellery, of human hair woven in many intricate plaitings into brooches, rings, bracelets, and chains. The brooches of about the “forties,” have a broad border inscribed with the word “Memory,” etc., in Gothic letters on black enamel, and in the centre a panel of plaited hair. The custom of wearing ornaments composed of such sombre and unpleasing material has now to all intents and purposes ceased. though it is carried on to a certain extent in France, where ouvrages en cheveux in the form of bracelets and lockets are still worn as précieux souvenirs de famille. After the middle of the nineteenth century the use of mourning rings and other memorial jewellery began to die out. The goddess Fashion, who throughout all ages has waged war on the productions of the goldsmith, has laid a heavier hand on these than on any other forms of personal ornament—a circumstance which accounts for the survival at the present day of a comparatively small proportion of the enormous quantity of objects of this description that must formerly have been produced. Most families from time to time have consigned to the melting-pot accumulations of these memorials of their predecessors; and those who have been long in the jeweller’s business confess to the hundreds of such relics they have broken up. It is to be hoped that the present-day revival may lead to the preservation of what remain of these quaint mementoes of our frail mortality.
1 Ridgeway (W.), Early Age of Greece, p. 437.
2 Fontenay (E.), Les bijoux anciens et modernes, p. 98.
3 Babelon (E. C. F.), Catalogue des camées antiques de la Bib. Nat. (No. 367), p. 199.
4 Dalton (O. M.), Catalogue of early Christian antiquities in the British Museum. 1901.
5 Cunynghame (H. H.), European enamels, p. 40.
6 Niello: a composition of lead, silver, sulphur, and borax.
7 Wilde (W. R.), Cat. of antiquities of gold, p. 12.
8 Bulliot (J. G.), Fouilles de Mont Beuvray (ancienne Bibracte) de 1867 à 1895. 1899.
9 Archæologia, LVIII, p. 240, 1902.
10 Dalton (O. M.), The treasure of the Oxus, 1905.
11 A remarkable book descriptive of this treasure has been published by Professor Odobesco, of the University of Bucharest, in which the whole process of inlaying is discussed at considerable length. The same subject has been treated with the most minute care by the well-known art historian, M. Charles de Linas.
12 Abbé Cochet, Le tombeau de Childéric Ter, 1859.
13 Lasteyrie (F. de), Description du trésor de Guarrazar, 1860.
14 De Baye (J.), The industrial arts of the Anglo-Saxons, p. 45.
15 Faussett (B.), Inventorium sepulchrale, p. 78, Pl. i.
16 Arch. Journal, IV, p. 253. Another very similar brooch from Abingdon is in the British Museum. See Akerman (J. Y.), Remains of pagan Saxondom, Pl. iii.
17 Archæologia Cantiana, II, Pl. iii.
18 Catalogue of Anglo-Saxon antiquities, p. xv.
19 Green (J. R.), Short history of the English People (1875 ed.), p. 21.
20 The Alfred sewel, p. 45. 1901. Others consider that the jewel was the head of a book-marker or pointer.
21 M. Molinier (Histoire générale des arts appliqués à l’industrie, IV, p. 93) is of the opinion that the enamel is English, and not, as some hold, of Byzantine origin. See also Victoria County History of Somerset, I, p. 376. 1906.
22 Archæologia, XXIX, p. 70, Pl. x.
23 Catalogue of the Alfred the Great millenary exhibition in the British Museum. 1901.
24 Proc. Soc. Antig., and Series, XIX, p. 304. Such long stout pins could only have served to fasten coarse, loosely woven fabrics.
25 J. R. Allen (Celtic Art, p. 219) describes the exact function of this brooch, and illustrates its use in ancient and modern times. (See also Reliquary, and Series, I, p. 162. 1894.)
26 Anderson (J.), Scotland in early Christian times, and Series. 1881.
27 Luthmer (F.), Gold und Silber, p. 50.
28 Luthmer, op. cit., p. 72.
29 Ibid., p. 50.
30 Ilg (A.), Theophilus Presbyter, p. xliii.
31 Cunynghame (H. H.), European enamels, p. 69.
32 Kunstdenkmale des Königreiches Bayern, I, iii, p. 2364. 1903.
33 Some estimate of their magnificence and extent may be obtained by means of contemporary inventories. The most remarkable inventory is perhaps that of John’s eldest son, Charles V—” the Wise”—drawn up in 1379 and published by J. Labarte. Scarcely less remarkable are the jewel inventories of his three other sons, Louis Duke of Anjou, John Duke of Berry, and Philip (le Hardi) Duke of Burgundy, which have been published respectively by L. de Laborde, J. Guiffrey, and B. Prost.
34 Several inventories of the contents of the Burgundian treasury have been preserved. Lists of the magnificent jewels of two of the most powerful and wealthy, those of Philip the Good (1396-1467) and his son Charles the Bold (1433-1477) have been published by Laborde in his Ducs de Bourgogne, Pt. 2, Vol. II.
35 Bateson (M.), Mediæval England, p. 13.
36 Ibid., p. 148.
37 Published by the Society of Antiquaries in 1789. pp. 332-353.
38 Rymer, Fædera, II, I, pp. 203-205.
39 Kalendars and Inventories of the Exchequer, III, p. 137.
40 See list of his jewels in Inventories of the Exchequer, III, p. 166, and his Great Wardrobe Accounts (Archæologia, XXXI, p. 55).
41 Paton (J.), Scottish national memorials, p. 337.
42 The foremost interpreter of their mysteries in the Middle Ages was Marbode, Bishop of Rennes (1095-1123), in his De Lapidibus Pretiosis Enchiridion.
43 King, Precious stones, p. 12. Treatises on precious stones frequently find a place in sixteenth-century Herbals, and are often accompanied by very spirited woodcuts representing the working of precious stones and the process of adapting them to personal ornaments, together with designs of actual articles of jewellery in which they are set. Two of the finest books of the kind are—an Ortus Sanitatis (Strasburg, circa 1497), and a Kreuterbuch printed at Frankfort in 1536.
44 Bock (F.), Das heilige Köln. Schatzkammer des Kölner Domes, p. 27.
45 The Abbey of Conques, near Rodez, in the Department of Aveyron. See Darcel (A.), Trésor de Conques, p. 66.
46 Rock (D.), Church of our fathers, III, I, p. 393.
47 Babelon (E. C. F.), Catalogue des camées de la Bib. Nat., p. 107
48 St. Luke, Iv. 30; and St. John, VIII. 2.
49 Babelon, op. cit., p. 1.
50 For a full description of this jewel, see a monograph by J. J. Oeri, entitled Der Onyx von Schaffhausen.
51 Riley (H. T.), Memorials of London, p. 313.
52 No attempt will here be made to enumerate the various forms of crowns and coronets. A general outline of the subject is set forth in chapter XXVI of Mr. Fox-Davies’ Art of Heraldry.
53 Lambecius, Bib. Caes. Vindobon., II, p. 516; Laborde, Ducs de Bourgogne, Pt. 2, II, p. 113, no. 3100.
54 Several writers on Pilgrims’ Signs state that a furnace destined for the same purpose may still be seen in an upper chamber in Canterbury Cathedral. Inquiry on the spot has failed to confirm the truth of this statement. The furnace in question has been used solely for the purpose of casting leadwork for repairing the roof. The badges were probably made somewhere in the Cathedral precincts.
55 Compare, An “ Esmail d’Arragon,” by A. Van de Put (Burlington Magazine, VIII, p. 421, 1906; X, p. 261, 1907).
56 Figured in Exposition de Budapest, 1884, Chefs-d’œuvre d’orfevrerie, I, Pl. I. There is a reproduction of this remarkable specimen of Dinanderie in the Victoria and Albert Museum.
57 Shaw (H.), Dresses and decorations, Pl. 60.
58 Hist. MSS. Comm., IX, p. 56.
59 Kalendars and Inventories, II, p. 165, etc.
60 Archæologia, XXXIX, p. 264.
61 Mr. Hartshorne (Arch. Journ., XXXIX, p. 366) considers the origin of the letters SS—par excellence the “crux antiquariorum,” he terms it—to lie between the words Seneschallus, Souverayne, and Sanctus, and of these he appears to be in favour of the first.
62 See Jahrbücher des Vereins von Alterthumsfreunden in Rheinlande, XXXIX, p. 272. Bonn, 1866.
63 Wall (J. C.), Tombs of the Kings of England, p. 197. Evelyn’s Diary, Sept. 16, 1685.
64 Kalendars, etc., III, pp. 185, 188.
65 Podlaha (A.), and Sittler (E.), Der Domschatz in Prag, pp. 113-132. 1903.
66 A relic of this superstition still exists in the coral baubles hung with bells, with which infants are aided in cutting their teeth.
67 Quoted from Bussy d’Amboise (1607) by Malone, commenting on the passage, “ Unicorns may be betray’d with trees (Julius Cæsar, II, i).
68 Riley (H. T.), Memorials of London and London life, p. 455.
69 Read (C. H.), Catalogue of the Waddesdon Bequest, No. 231.
70 Probably abbreviated from ambregis (ambergris), the well-known odoriferous substance, so called from its resemblance to grey amber. It was the most highly prized of all perfumes in mediaval times; and though its use is now almost entirely confined to perfumery, it formerly also occupied no inconsiderable place in pharmacy.
71 Arch. Journ., III, p. 76.
72 St. Luke, Iv. 30.
73 A Veronica, or Face of our Lord, frequently figured on hat-ornaments. Thus: A vernicle hadde he sewed upon his cappe” (Chaucer, Canterbury Tales, L. 688). This jewel may perhaps have been a hat-brooch.
74 Sometimes called (by metathesis) fremailleurs.
75 Luthmer, op. cit., p. 74.
76 Kunstgewerbe-Blatt, III, p. 21, 1887.
77 Barbet de Jouy, Gemmes et joyaux de la couronne, Pl. XI.
78 Rock, op. cit., III, iii, p. 101.
79 Dugdale, History of St. Paul’s Cathedral (1818 ed.), p. 310.
80 Fabric Rolls of York Minster (Surtees Society), p. 222.
81 Compare p. 121.
82 Shaw, Decorative arts of the Middle Ages, Pl. 7.
83 It is intended, however, to be looked at from the reverse side through the crystal-when the device appears like a cameo.
84 Archæologia, LIX, p. 25.
85 Figured by Shaw, Dresses and decorations, Pl. 88, where it is erroneously described as the clasp of the Emperor Charles V.
86 Pollen, Gold and silversmith’s work in the S. Kensington Museum, p. 98.
87 Beissel, Kunstschätze des Aachener Kaiserdomes, Pl. XIII.
88 Barbet de Jouy, op cit., Pl. X.
89 Molinier, Donation de Adolphe de Rothschild, Pl. XIX.
90 Giraud, Les arts du métal, Pl. VII.
91 Probably a corruption of the Latin words nusca, nuxa, a brooch or fibula (Prompt. Parv., p. 359).
92 Testamenta Eboracensia (Surtees Society), I, p. 267.
93 This effigy, and that of Anne of Bohemia, and of Henry IV and his Queen, may be studied from reproductions in the National Portrait Gallery.
94 Kalendars and Inventories of the Exchequer, III, p. 344, etc.
95 Revue de l’art chrétien, 1887, p. 276; and Humann (G.), Die Kunstwerke der Münster-Kirche zu Essen, Pl. 62.
96 Compare this jewel with “un damoisell seant en un solaill” in Henry IV’s inventory.
97 Compare Henry IV’s “i. damoisell et i. unicorn.”
98 The same motive is figured on a morse shown on the left wing of a picture in the Cologne Museum known as the “ Sippenaltar” (by the Meister der heiligen Sippe), dating from the end of the fifteenth century The jewel is worn by S. Nicasius. It is trefoil in shape, and decorated with the figure of an angel, full face, holding a large stone in front.
99 This jewel once formed part of the treasure of the House of Burgundy, and came into the Imperial Collections through the marriage of Mary of Burgundy with the Emperor Maximilian I.
100 Amongst others there are three in each of the cathedrals of Chichester, York, Winchester, and Durham, and two at Hereford (Archæologia, XLV, p. 404).
101 Waterton (E.), “ Episcopal rings” (Arch. Journ., XX, p. 224), 1863
102 Archæologia, XVIII, p. 306.
103 Arch. Journ., XX, p. 195.
104 Archæologia, XXXVI, p. 200.
105 Cartwright (J.), Isabella d’Este, I, p. 73.
106 Many admirable representations of girdles are figured in Stothard’s Monumental effigies of Great Britain.
107 Riley (H. T.), Memorials of London and London life, p 154.
108 Riley, op. cit., p. 399.
109 Inventories of the Exchequer, III, p. 142.
110 Archaeologia, XXXI, p. 55.
111 Inventories, etc., III, pp. 174, 184.
112 These bars of metal were attached vertically at intervals to the belt or girdle to maintain the rigidity of the material. The word bar (corresponding to the French clou) was subsequently applied to all such attachments, which were sometimes perforated to allow the tongue of the buckle to pass through them (Way, Prompt. parv., p. 24).
113 Hartshorne (A.), “Swordbelts of the Middle Ages” (Arch. Journ., XLVIII, p. 320).
114 Way, Prompt. parv., p. 27, n. 2.
115 There is the possibility that bells were worn as amulets, though not necessarily intended as such by their wearers. “ Le son de l’airain,” like the tinkling ornaments of the daughters of Zion (Isa. III. 18), was thought to have a prophylactic virtue. The double-tail mermaids of silver still worn in Naples as charms against the evil eye are always hung with little bells (Elworthy, The evil eye, p. 368).
116 Inventories of the Exchequer, III, p. 337.
117 Symonds (J. A.), Renaissance in Italy—The Fine Arts, p. 91.
118 Williamson (G. C.), Francia, pp. 2, 3, 21, 38.
119 For a photograph of this jewel, and for the information respecting it and the other works of this artist, I am indebted to the kindness of Dr. Williamson.
120 Wölfflin (H.), The art of the Italian Renaissance, p. 234.
121 The whole of this magnificent work has been reproduced by Sijthoff, of Leyden, under the direction of Scato de Vries and Dr. S. Morpurgo.
122 This tendency is as common as ever in the East, particularly among highclass natives of India, on account of the prevailing belief that the only safe way to invest money is to purchase precious stones and similar articles of intrinsic or sterling value. (See Nineteenth Century, LVIII, p. 290, 1905,” The origin of money from ornament.”)
123 Proc. Soc. Antig., XIV, p. 180.
124 Reproduced by Quaritch in 1897 from a copy now in the possession of Mr. Max Rosenheim.
125 Lichtwark (A.), Der Ornamentstich der deutschen Frührenaissance, p. 111.
126 Most of Mielich’s works have been reproduced by Hefner-Alteneck in his Deutsche Goldschmiede-Werke des 16”“ Jahrhunderts.
127 Jannettaz, Diamant et pierres précieuses, p. 423.
128 Bucher, Geschichte der technischen Künste, II, p. 307.
129 La collection Spitzer, III, p. 53.
130 Brewer (J. S.), Henry VIII, I, p. 10.
131 Letters and Papers of Henry VIII, II, p. 1441, etc.; III, p. 1533, etc.
132 Letters and Papers, XII, No. 47.
133 Lambecius, Bibliotheca Cæsarea Vindobonensi, II, p. 512.
134 Kalendars and Inventories of the Exchequer, II, p. 304.
135 That pendants were termed “ flowers” is clear from W. Thomas’s Italian Grammar (1548), where a fermaglio is defined as “the hangeing owche, or flowre that women use to tye at the chayne or lace that they weare about their neckes” (Way, Prompt. parv., p. 359, n. 3).
136 His family name was Van der Gow or Van der Goes. See L. Cust, Burlington Magazine, VIII, p. 356.
137 An enormous number of these exist. A catalogue of them has been drawn up by Mr. F. M. O’Donoghue, of the British Museum.
138 British Museum. MSS. No. 4827.
139 Strickland, Queens of England, IV, pp. 262, 416.
140 Vertue (G.), Catalogue of the collection of Charles I, p. 47.
141 “He gave me a jewel the other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat” (Timon of Athens, Act iii). “Honour’s a good brooch to wear in a man’s hat at all times” (Ben Jonson. Poetaster). “And his hat turned up, with a silver clasp on his leer side” (Ben Jonson, Tale of a Tub).
142 Bonnaffé (E.), La collection Spitzer, III, p. 134.
143 Burlington Fine Arts Club, Catalogue of enamels, 1897.
144 Letters and Papers of Henry VIII, IV, Nos. 1907 and 6789.
145 L’Arte, II, p. 432, 1899.
146 Hefner-Alteneck (J. H. von), Deutsche Goldschmiede-Werke des 16ten Jahrhunderts, Pl. 12.
147 I trattati dell’oreficeria. Ed. Milanesi, 1857. Chapter on Minuteria.
148 In the night of December 17th, 1860, the Galleria delle Gemme of the Uffizi was entered by thieves, who carried off a large number of gems and jewels. Most of the gems were recovered, but nearly all robbed of their settings. All the jewels were lost (Gotti, A., Le Gallerie di Firenze, pp. 229 and 388).
149 Kenner (F.), Cameen und Modelle des XVI. Jahrhunderts, p. 21 (Jahrbuch der Kunsthistor. Sammlungen des Kaiserhauses, IV), 1886.
150 A jewelled enseigne known as the “ Star Jewel,” once the property of Sir Francis Drake, belongs to Sir F. Fuller-Eliott-Drake. It is enriched with translucent red enamel, and has rubies set in the rays, with opals and diamonds interspersed in the border, round an engraved ruby in the centre. It has four loops behind for attaching to the hat.
151 Archæologia, XXI, p. 152.
152 Inuentaires de la Royne Descosse Douairiere de France (published by the Bannatyne Club), p. 87.
153 Crystal quartz found in the Clifton limestone, and known as Bristol diamonds.
154 Nichols (J.), Illustrations of the manners and expenses of ancient times in England, Pt. III, p. 26.
155 Nuremberg: Germanisches Museum. Mitteilungen, 1894, p. 73.
156 Letters and Papers, IV, No. 1907.
157 Nichols, Progresses of Queen Elizabeth, II, p. 498.
158 Luthmer, Gold und Silber, p. 100.
159 Davenport, Cameos, 1900.
160 Cf. “ Une petite nef d’or, estoffée de tout son appareil” (Invent, of Mary, dau. of Charles the Bold of Burgundy, and wife of Maximilian I. Lille: Archives du Nord, VIII, p. 171).
161 Cf. “ A juell of golde, wherein is a parret hanging” (New Year’s gifts to Queen Elizabeth, 1578-9).
162 Henry VIII, Letters and Papers, IV, No. 6789.
163 Nichols, Progresses of Q. Elizabeth, I, pp. 380, 412; II, p. 52.
164 See Connoisseur, V, p. 80. The gems and jewels at Windsor Castle, by H. Clifford Smith.
165 Way (A.), Cat. of antiquities and historical Scottish relics, Edinburgh, 1859. p. 163. See also Connoisseur, loc. cit.
166 See note, p. 235.
167 Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, Aug., 1596.
168 Compare pp. 293 and 297. See Darcel (A.), Notice sur émaux et de lorjévrerie (Louvre), p. 81. See also Labarte (J.), Les arts industriels (znd ed., I1, p. 136, 1873), L’émaillerie cloisonnée sur cristal.
169 See p. 301.
170 I will have my pomander of most sweet smell, Also my chains of gold to hang about my necke. Book of Robin Conscience (circa 1600).
171 The only modern French word for the pomander is cassolette. In German and Italian there is a tendency to revive the old titles Bisamapfel and Oldano.
172 Reproduced by Quaritch in 1888.
173 Burlington Magazine, VIII, p. 130, 1905.
174 Reproduced by Quaritch in 1888.
175 Mariette, Abecedario, IV, p. 133.
176 These are described in the Connoisseur, V, p. 243.
177 See pp. 273 and 297.
178 Historical MSS. Commission, IV, p. 286.
179 Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, March 18, 1623.
180 See p. 209.
181 Nichols, Progresses of James I, IV, p. 830. A complete list of the jewels removed from the Tower is given in Archæologia, XXI, p. 148.
182 Nichols, op. cit., III, p. 548
183 Devon (F.), Issues of the Exchequer, James I (Pell records), p. 49.
184 Archæeologia, XV, p. 19.
185 Examples of these jewelled frames are preserved in Mr. Pierpont Morgan’s collection of miniatures. For the information respecting them I am indebted to the kindness of Dr. Williamson, author of the catalogue of that collection.
186 Les bijoux anciens et modernes, p. 294.
187 See Connoisseur, XII, p. 81.
188 Kindly communicated by the late Sir Dominic Colnaghi.
189 Davies (G. S.), Frans Hals, p. 88.
190 Munro (R.), Archæology and false antiquities. Eudel (P.), Le Truquage, 1887. Trucs et Truqueurs, 1907.
191 Archæological Journal, XXI, p. 167. A collection of pseudo-antiques of the kind made at the ateliers of Messrs. Billy and Charley, Rosemary Lane, Tower Hill, is shown in the Cuming Museum, Walworth Road, London.
192 Cook (T. A.), The history of Rouen, p. 293.

THE PEARL. ITS STORY, ITS CHARM, AND ITS VALUE

THE PEARL. ITS STORY, ITS CHARM, AND ITS VALUE BY W. R. CATTELLE AUTHOR OF “PRECIOUS STONES”, WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS, PHILADELPHIA & LONDON, J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
MDCCCCVII
NOTE
In these pages the story of the pearl is told from its birth and growth under tropic seas, through the search for it by dark skinned divers of the Orient and its journeyings by the hands of men who traffic in precious things, until it becomes finally the cherished familiar of the great. Historical and traditional allusions, the sentiment and superstitions, the romance of ancient and noble associations, drawn to it through the ages, are garnered here and to them added the more prosaic facts which a merchant’s experience suggests, to enable lovers of the dainty sea-gem to discriminate. The qualities which make some pearls of great value and the imperfections which render others less valuable are described in detail, that owners and buyers may appreciate at their true value the gems they have or would purchase and the market price of all kinds is given. Means for the detection of imitations are included. Long time has been given to microscopic research and though much remains to be learned of the genesis of the pearl, it is hoped that something of value has been added to the knowledge of Nature’s wonderful and curious processes whereby through the humblest she makes a jewel fit to adorn the most beautiful of her creatures—woman. y thanks are due Messrs. Combes & Van Roden of Philadelphia for the loan of the original photographs from which were made the reproductions of the portraits of Queen Alexandra, The Marchioness of Londonderry, Countess Torby and Princess Lazareff, which will, I trust, be of great interest to lovers of pearls: also to Mr. Ludwig Stross for much valuable information about Oriental pearl fisheries. W. R. C.
AT THE BOTTOM OF THE DEEP BLUE SEA
The sea in all her moods has a strange fascination for the children of the dry land. The rumble and thunder of her never ending procession of rolling breakers, rising and falling, tumbling over the sands, to race hissing back to shelter under the curling crest of an eternal successor; the mad recurring dash which cannot be discouraged, of great waters upon unyielding rocks whose grim faces smile at the spume fountains falling back upon them, the wash and mutter of rocky shoals; the suck and bellow of her caverns and the monotone she chants, heedless of hearers to the ages; all these charm the hearts of men and bring them into the fellowship of spirits they feel, but cannot understand. For the moods of the sea and the ways of the wind are akin to the heart of a man. His eyes dance with the flicker of light in the path of the sun over watery wastes; his breast heaves in unison with the multitudinous swellings of the sea; he finds peace in the slumber of her calms and exults in her mad race before the drive of the tempest, but he seldom thinks below the surface and knows little of the things she hides in her deeps. Yet a world lives there, very strange and full of enchantments. Sheltered under the breasts of the sea and undisturbed by the furies of the upper world, myriads of living creatures, graceful, beautiful, wonderful, traverse the peaceful depths. In the vast and fathomless solitudes, things grow and take on form, meet for the eyes of the gods. In everlasting touch with soft currents, trees of coral grow from rocky beds and finny tribes of every shape and hue glide in and out among their fantastic branches. Water covering all, on hills, plateaus, shelving stretches, sandy bars and rocky shoals; in valleys, chasms and even in the dread abysses, are things as strange to man as Jupiter or Saturn holds; weird as the creatures of our dreams; uncanny as the pictures a riotous imagination paints and some as beautiful. Near the shore and a few miles out, where the bottom of the sea is but a few fathoms deep and where man can go and come and live, there are among other marvellous creations, shells of wonderful structure and beautiful to look upon. One by one these have been discovered during past ages by the adventurous and for their usefulness or beauty have awakened the desire of those who dwell upon the earth. The chank, the sacred shell of the Hindus, has been used by the priests of Buddha for centuries as a horn to call the faithful. Shankar the Destroyer, of Hindu mythology, and Vishnu, each hold a chank shell in one of their hands. The shell whorl usually runs from left to right, sometimes it is found with the whorl reversed and these were so highly regarded by Hindus, Cingalese and Chinese that in old times they were sold for their weight in gold. Even now they bring a good price in the eastern markets. They are kept in the pagodas of China to hold the sacred oil: the priests of Ceylon administer medicine by them. In Dacca the chank is cut into armlets and anklets for Hindu women upon whose persons they are left after death. The delicate pink cameos carved from the Queen Conch have delighted feminine eyes of almost every race. The Pearly Nautilus decks many a dainty lady’s table and is wrought into a thousand quaint conceits. The silky byssus of the Pinna has been woven into fabrics of such fineness as to be thought worthy of acceptance by Popes and princes. Before Europe knew of their existence, the people of China and Japan, the Maoris of New Zealand, the Indians of our Pacific coast and the brown skinned natives of far-off islands of the Southern Seas, were delighting themselves with the magnificent coloring and iridescence of the Haliotis even as ancient Greece and Rome made ornaments from the “Venus Ear-shell,” as they called it, brought from the ruder coasts and islands further west. In these later days the costly outer garments of proud dames are ornamented with buttons cut from the same resplendent shell. But of all the beautiful things old ocean pays as tribute to the adventurous spirit of man, the pearl-oyster and the gem found sometimes in it are most precious. From unknown times when man discovered them until now, mother-of-pearl shells and their pearly treasures have held desire constant and the eyes of modern queens brighten when the opening of the gift casket reveals a string of these spheres of beauty just as eyes did in the far-off Indies thousands of years ago. When Europe was a land of barbarians and America an unknown country of savages, dusky fingers that held the life and destiny of millions, toyed lovingly with pearls, even as now the favored few who enter the sanctum sanctorum of fortune, pride themselves in the possession of them and find pleasure for cloyed desire, in every addition to their store. In all ages, pearls have been the social insignia of rank among the highly civilized. No other gem was so abundantly used for adornment by the princes of the east. Above great diamonds from the mines of India or glowing rubies from Burmah, the ocean gem became peerless among the ancient nations of Asia and as their power began to wane and the tide of empire swept westward, there went with it the love of pearls. The rulers of Rome when she was Empress of the world sought pearls, so also have the rich and powerful of every nation as it rose to affluence, and now in this new western star of Empire the men who hold the vast wealth of these United States in their hands, when they place their consorts on the last plane of social eminence, buy pearls. Before the machine-like system of modern industry had combined ownership and seized the vast natural reservoirs which hold the diamonds of Africa, and brought the output to a known average yield of so many carats to so many loads, and established the cost of mining, washing, shipping and marketing, separately or together, to the fraction of a penny, there was a fascination in the hunt for diamonds there, the charm of which drew thousands to the fields. From the discovery of them as baubles in the hands of children and the Hottentots, or plastered in the mud walls of Boer farmhouses, through the search for them along the Vaal River, to the time where findings led men to the kopjes, which capped the great chimneys of diamond bearing clay, where they staked and worked their individual claims, the ever present hope of finding a royal gem among the small stones which formed the every-day yield, gave edge to appetite and the spur to toil, and the stories of fortunes diverted from one man to another by the lapse of a few minutes at the beginning or expiration of a lease, or by the line separating the mining rights of one from another, read like fairy tales. More exciting yet is the search for them when, as in Brazil, they lie scattered over the river beds where one man hunts in vain and another by chance stumbles upon a pocket full, or as in India, where one must dig for them blindly into detrital matter ten or twelve feet under a later covering of earth. Who has not felt the stir of it while reading of miners in Brazil using diamonds worth a king’s ransom as counters in their games of chance, or of a naked Hindu, emaciated and diseased carrying about his person, wrapped in a bit of soiled cloth, a gem found by chance which the richest prince of India would covet. So also do the tales of rubies brought from Death’s Valley of Burmah renew within us the glow which fired the heart of youth when we read of Aladdin and his lamp. But none of these are so redolent of romance as the story of the pearl. Beneath the rolling of the sea, where the waves pace softly and restlessly like caged lions, or lift themselves roaring to answer the voice of the storm; where at times the water lies green and placid under burning skies; at times, lashed by tornado and monsoon, becoming a seething caldron of black perdition; where spice-laden vessels sail, and where in the old days, privateers and pirates lay in wait for prey, there, at the bottom of the sea, unruffled by storm or pirate, unmindful of sun and calm, myriads of delicate creatures toil ceaselessly to strew old ocean’s bed with gems. The chaste spheres with which you toy, while counting up the cost of hanging them round some fair neck, at one time lay fathoms deep, the ocean rolling over them. Dusky fishermen. at risk of life, brought them up and turbanned merchants gave great sums of money to own them; ships carried them, and dealers in precious things handled, sorted, examined and matched them, ere they came to rest in festooned rows within the velvet covers your jeweller opens to you. On almost every tropical sea that washes a shore near the equator, when the time of storm is over, boats ride over the shallows, and men dive from them for the pearl oyster as they have done for ages. Black slaves for Arab masters in the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf: Tamil and Singhalese in the Indian waters: Polynesians about the islands of the South Seas: Indians and other natives along the Atlantic and Pacific coasts of tropical America, and not a few white men in “dress” off the coasts of Australia. Your pearls have seen the dusky man-fish come silently and swiftly from the world of air to wrench the gaping shells that held them, from their anchorage. It may be your pearl lay twenty fathoms deep in the clear water of some lonely atoll in the great Pacific, among branching coral, and found its way from water’s solitudes to the light of the Sun and admiring eyes by the hand of a bright-eyed Polynesian. It may have come from Egypt or the Indies, from Australia or Mexico; but from whatever quarter of the globe it came and by whom, it was born and grew somewhere at the bottom of the sea.
A PEARL OF LEGEND
Long ago, ere the great Nations of Europe came into existence; before Rome was, or Greece had made history : when the power of the Earth dwelt in the lands of the Sun and was for good or evil in the hands of princes, there lived in Travancore a ruler of renown. Of those who came from the north, he with his followers had subjugated the fierce native tribes inhabiting the country for many miles along the seacoast and back to the mountainous interior. Over all, to the utmost bounds of his territory, the land was fertile and very beautiful. Along the shores, but a short distance from the ocean, were numerous shallow stretches of water, formed by the meeting of the inland streams with the swift current of the sea which there: weeps the coast. In them fish abounded, yet were they free from the dangers of the outer waters, so that young and old could there disport themselves without fear. Though the tropic heat was often great there were no parched and barren wastes in the land, for the rains were many and the streams which ran to the sea from the mountains were numerous. Everywhere luxuriant verdure swayed to breezes that played to and fro over the rolling lowlands and about the hillsides, now coming from the water and now from the mountains. Coffee, rice, the palm, cocoa-nut, the areca-nut, the pepper, tamarind, and other tropical fruits and trees grew in rank abundance, and huge forest timbers sheltered many noble creatures of the wild. At the first coming of this prince, fighting was constant and bloody. The hill tribes, more war-like than those of many lands, made frequent descents from their fastnesses, seeking by every ruse of barbarous warfare to exterminate the intruder. But this man was wary and alert. Possessing the confidence of his followers, they obeyed him with unquestioning obedience. Quick to move, merciless in his reprisals, he was soon feared by all the surrounding country and as it became known that he was also just and generous, peace presently followed. Then did he seek to establish his kingdom wisely and well. He encouraged his subjects to cultivate the land, to fish the waters, and to trade with those who came by ship and overland bringing all manner of things for barter. Though he and his people were devout believers in the Veda, yet did he tolerate the faith of others, and considered the low-born, for Brahmanism had not yet established the extremes of caste which came later. He himself was a Kshattriya but he ruled the Brahmans and would not permit injustice to the Sudras, therefore was he as a god among his people. And this prince was good to look upon. Tall and straight as a tree of the forest, the fine lines of his grave impassive face were made alive by the light of eyes keen as an eagle’s, inscrutable as those of a lion when he looks beyond. One son only had he, for the others had all fallen in battle. The son was like the sire, and the father’s heart was knit to him as steel when it is welded. Now the time came when it was good that the young prince should marry, for he was man-grown and had been invested with the sacrificial cord. So the prince his father said to him, “My son, thou standest alone to guard the manes of thy fathers. It is meet that the sons of my son be alive upon the earth, that when the time is come I die in peace and return to the place from whence I came, in confidence. I will find for thee a wife.” And the young prince answered, “Let it be as my lord wills.” Now there was in the country beyond the hills, on the eastern coast of India, a prince whose daughter was famed for her beauty and he also was Kshattriya. To him the ruler of Travancore sent certain of those who were near him, and a wise priest in whom he had great confidence, to treat with the father of the maid. And these when they had arrived, made haste to do their lord’s bidding, nor was it difficult to obtain his desire, for the prince of Travancore was in great repute. So as soon as could be, the maid became the wife of the heir of Travancore. Report had not lied concerning the beauty of the girl, and such other qualities had she that the heart of her husband melted to her and became as the gold of a jewel when it holds a ruby most precious. In due time a son was born to them, and the father and his sire and all the people with them were exceeding glad, for said they, “Now is wisdom and power established on the throne of Travancore and a son’s son will guard the name of our lord.” Now when the princess was a maid in the land of her father, a Rover from the coast of Kandy had greatly desired her, and when she was carried away to Travancore he was very wroth. It was told that he would seek vengeance, but another year passed and another son came and both the children and the mother thrived. But one day, when many sea-boats lay within the harbor of a city of Travancore where much trading was done with men who came from far-off countries and when multitudes were gathered there, it chanced that the princess passed by the market-place. Suddenly, a great number of them that were there from foreign shores, gathered together, and drawing swords, rushed upon the guards which accompanied her. These, with the bearers they overpowered, and ere the bewildered populace knew the meaning of the tumult, the princess was dragged from her attendants and hurried to a boat waiting and ready to sail. Immediately this glided swiftly toward the sea followed by many others manned by ruffians who had lately mingled with the men on shore as peaceful traders. They were followers of the Kandy Rover. In a very little while, the King, with the trusted priest of his household, the prince and many picked men of the King’s body-guard rode furiously to the water-side. The face of the King was very stern, but only in the flashings of his eyes could be seen the unrelenting vengeance which moved him. Quietly he gave orders to man his ships of war. Then it was found that every one of them had been damaged. Not until the sailors made ready to sail were the hindrances observable, and in no case was the evil great, or so that it could not be presently repaired, for fearing discovery the doers of it sought only to delay the sailing of the King’s ships, as the ships of the Rover were swift, and after they were out of the harbor, Travancore had none which could overtake them. Then was the wrath of the King terrible to look upon. Now while the prince and his followers chafed, and the dismayed populace watched the work of the men who sought to make the boats ready to sail, the King filled them with the fiercest of his soldiers, being resolved that if the pirate escaped him on the sea he would follow him to his lair with swift and overwhelming vengeance. While these things were being done, the Rover passed out to the open sea and in sight of all the people turned his prows to the south. Then the Brahman, standing where the lapping waters encircled his feet, stretched forth his hands toward the white sails as they spread to the west wind and called upon Shankar to destroy the despoiler. Immediately the wind died out and the ships were becalmed. Then the heart of the King swelled with fierce joy. At his orders all the lighter boats were filled with men and oars were provided that they might row to the attack, and the young prince stood in the front of the fastest one. But while the people whetted themselves for battle, the Brahman still stood and prayed. And presently the air became thick. Though no clouds appeared the sky faded rapidly from sight, and the sun could no more be seen and the light of it was as the color of fire in thick smoke only. Darkness of chaos and a silence like that of a dead world encompassed the people, and gripped them. Suddenly there a great dread came from the sea a breath of sighing broken by sobs very heartrending, and this was followed by the sound of churning and lashing water. Soon a furious wind swept the coast in gusts which rested only that they might gather strength to rage, as the rush of rioters is momentarily stayed between whiles. And the black air, writhing like smoke, was driven hither and thither, and shaken by the din of thunder. Fierce lightnings pierced the darkness and in passing gave lurid glimpses of the sea’s frenzy and the wind-swept earth. But though the storm raged so that the roaring sickened the hearts of the people, the Brahman remained unmoved, his hands stretched toward the sea where the Rover and his fleet were when it began. Presently the wind passed, and the people looking seaward saw that there were no ships there, but the foam of the surf was black with wreckage, and tossing in it were the forms of dead men. The Rover and his followers had all perished. But the joy of the King and his people was savage, and their thoughts were black, for the princess was with them that were destroyed. Then the people made haste to spread themselves along the coast to watch if perchance the gods might cast her ashore alive, but no living thing appeared, neither was her body seen. Now while these things were being done, great clouds, very thick and black, gathered, and rolling together, poured themselves in torrents into the sea. So thickly did the rain fall that the waves were beaten down and the sea became as a threshing-floor on which the rain fell white and hissing.. The Brahman watching, said “Behold! the Heavens weep,” and turning, he went straightway to the temple. For many hours thereafter did the torrents fall and all Travancore mourned, the lamentations of the people being very loud, for the King and his son were much beloved and it was known that the prince was sorely distressed, and the more so that his sword must needs be idle for there were none left upon whom he could take vengeance. Now when the elements were at peace again, the King gave orders that certain fishermen of his people who were expert divers, should explore the bottom of the sea where the ships of the Rover were destroyed. One of these discovered the body of the princess and brought it to shore. And when they prepared it for burial, the women found fastened upon one of the hands a shell-fish, the two shells of which had closed upon a finger when it fell between them as they gaped. And when the shells were pried apart, there rolled from between them a round bone, white and shining, yet of a luster so soft and beautiful that no man had seen the like. And the Brahman when he saw it said, “Herein are the tears of Heaven which fell into the sea congealed and have become a gem which is beyond price.” And he named it “Pearl,” and carried it to the King. Then the King after he had heard the story of it, sent for the chief man of them that worked in gold and commanded him that he make for the pearl a setting most precious, and when it was done he gave it to the prince his son saying, “Above all things let this be first among the jewels of Travancore for-ever.” And the prince when he looked upon it said, “The beauty of it is like the brightness of her eyes when they veiled themselves before my passion,” and he prized it more than all the diamonds and rubies in his treasure-house. From that day, when the fishermen dived for the chank, they sought also for shells like unto that in which the King’s pearl was found, and after great rains many more pearls were brought from the depths of the sea, and fishermen following the coast, found them on the shoals between India and Kandy in great plenty. These were carried to the King, for no man dared to sell them, yet did the King reward the finders very liberally. So the store of them in the King’s treasury grew, and for that there were no gems like them in all the earth, the fame of them spread, and travellers came from many and far-off lands to look upon the pearls of Travancore.
ANTIQUITY OF THE PEARL
How long the pearl has been used as a jewel is unknown. It is seen all through the pages of history, from the long ago days when records were inscribed on the leaves of plants, to the rapid-fire prints of to-day, which unceasingly atter to myriads the knowledge of things as they occur. Back of history, pearls loom everywhere in the mists of tradition like delicate but imperishable orbs of beauty set in the smoulder of burned out days and passions. And wherever their tranquil light attracts the eye of imagination, the ghosts of the great are seen, for pearls lie in the hair of royalty and clasp the fair necks of Queens. Upon them shine the eyes of turbanned princes who valued them above the blood and life of thousands of subjects. Shades of imperious fingers, long since fallen to the elements, toy with them, they deck the spectral gatherings of the mighty in all lands and ages, and there is no dream of song or story which does not hold them among the chief enchantments. As the fair moon hangs from the brow of night when she broods over lonely waters, so does the pearl shine in the shades of the age In this country abundant evidence exists that before the advent of the white man, or of the red-skins as we know them, the aborigines, from the cold rise of the Mississippi to the glades of Florida, used them for their adornment. In savage wilds, and on coasts that knew not the sight of ships or other shores, copper-skinned natives treasured the glistening things they found in the mollusks of the sea-shoals and inland streams. Quantities of pearls have been found in the Indian mounds, many of them loose, others strung for necklaces and wristlets. some mounted in quaint and primitive fashion, all showing that in the days of unbroken forests and swarming game and roving tribes of untrammeled savages, in the tepees of the braves, their queens wore pearls even as they are worn now by fairer successors in the palaces reared where once were forests and camping grounds. In those days the savage lords of the undivided earth knew nothing of whirring lathes and drills; of hardened points of steel turning with lightning rapidity and unerring precision. Slowly they burned a way through the gem with hot copper wire, destroying thereby with ruthless ignorance the delicate beauty of jewels fit for royalty. To them the slender prongs of gold with which the modern jeweller holds the lustrous balls, uncovered and in safety, were unknown. Instead, the savage set them in holes bored in the teeth of animals, possibly to enhance the relics of a great fight with some fierce beast that succumbed finally to his prowess: possibly to add beauty to the grim reminders of her lord’s valor when he hung them round the neck of a favored mate. The Indian of this continent was much more primitive in the art of the jeweller than in the manufacture of implements for war and the chase. Gaudy colors extracted from plants and minerals appealed more to his unthinking eye than a chaste form of beauty. With these he could stain his blankets, record on skins of slaughtered animals his deeds, or paint in hideous signs upon his face the malignancy of war. His time and thought and ingenuity were given to things which would contribute to his master passion and glorify its deeds. The scalps of his enemies, the skins of animals he slaughtered, the feathers of birds that fell to his unerring arrow, the teeth of bears and mountain lions slain in desperate encounters, these were his jewels. Nor was his sexual instinct sufficiently refined to enthrone his mate. She was his slave, and her reward for toil was pride in his deeds and glory. He knew little of the tender homage which brings gifts and lays them at the feet of woman. Instinctively he made a setting for his pearls of bears teeth, that they might carry the scent of blood and tell the story of his conquest. Nevertheless, among these rude tribes of wolfish savages, sequestered from the touch of other people more refined, the modest pearl found favor, and in it they unconsciously paid tribute to one of the purest forms of beauty. But even this recognition must have been the growth of years, possibly of ages, for not until the understanding of worth has become general among a people is value established, and only things valuable are stored. As desire for a thing for its inherent qualities spreads, there is added a larger number of those who seek to possess it for the profit they can make in supplying that desire. Not many years ago, fishermen along the streams of remote parts of Kentucky had no eye for the beauty of a pearl, and no knowledge that men and women lived who prized them. If while fishing, the fisherman’s hook fell between the gaping valves of a mollusk it was immediately seized. The disgusted angler thereupon angrily pulled the nuisance out, and if upon disengaging the hook from the bivalve, he found within the shells a pearl, it was immediately tossed back into the stream for luck; for the beginning of a day’s sport with a catch of that kind was illluck and the fates could only be appeased by the finding of a pearl, or a “mussel egg” as he would call it, in the mollusk, and its return to the water. There lives yet on the banks of the Clinch River, an old pearler, the distress of many a speculator for his knowledge of pearls and their value, who sometimes sorrowfully relates how he thus in bygone years angrily threw away many good pearls, one of them the finest “ball” pearl he has ever seen. If these gems were so regarded by the ignorant white settlers of the west until the advent of men who had learned to appreciate them either for their beauty or the price they would bring from the outside world, it may be surmised that the awakening of the ancient Indian to their beauty, must have been a much slower process, unassisted as it was by men from beyond their limits who had long regarded them as precious. At first, probably, pearls were thrown to the children as playthings, as diamonds were in the Cape: then the young squaws gradually opened their eyes to the fact that the white shining things enhanced the charms of their smooth copper skins by contrast: the brave sought them to please the maid he would bring to his tepee: perhaps rovers brought news that in the far south, in lands of houses and teocalli and much magnificence, or farther off among the Incas, these baubles were prized by the chiefs. So gradually it dawned upon some that the eggs of the mollusk were beautiful, and upon others that they could be bartered for skins. blankets, or arrows, possibly for a pony, and so they came to be gathered and stored and displayed as things which enriched the owner. How far back in the ages the use of pearls on this continent extends cannot be estimated. The discovery of them in the mounds east of the Mississippi, which are credited to an ancient race that finally succumbed to the similar but more warlike red men found here when the country was discovered by Europeans, suggests many centuries. And the use of pearls to the extent manifest by the discoveries, favors the theory that the mound-builders had reached a degree of refinement never attained by the North American Indians of record. When white men invaded the North American continent, they found tribes of red men as rugged as the coasts of New England. Inured to hardships, despising pain, contemptuous of death, they lived by hunting and found their chief pleasure in the slaughter of their enemies. Camping at will, their lodges were here to-day and there to-morrow, and brutal if heroic, they roamed over fields once inhabited by a race which had passed, but left evidence that they were sufficiently civilized to appreciate the pearl. In Florida and South America, the conditions, when the country was discovered by the Spaniards, were different. The ancient races, corresponding with the mound-builders of the north, undisturbed by the incursions of stronger tribes, had continued to progress and had reached a high degree of barbarous luxury. In Mexico, when Montezuma gave audience to Cortez, he was ablaze with gold and silver and precious stones. His cloak and sandals were adorned with pearls. Pearls were used to decorate temples, canoes and even the paddles. Indian women had great strings of them coiled around their necks and arms, and the chiefs used them freely on all occasions of state. It was the same on the Colombian coasts. At the island of Cubagua and on the main coast, Columbus found great quantities of pearls, as did De Soto and his followers when they landed at Tampa Bay, known by the Spaniards as “Spiritu Santo,” in Florida in 1539. The Incas of Peru also owned many fine pearls. Though the natives of all these countries ignorantly injured the gems by cooking the oyster to extract them, or by their crude methods of boring, and reckoned them of little value as compared with the European idea, they nevertheless esteemed them as jewels and must have done so for ages, for the invaders found them in the sepulchres of the dead, so altered by the processes of time that they retained nothing of their original beauty. From these premises therefore it can be said of the antiquity of the pearl in this hemisphere, that it had been used as a jewel for some centuries before the early part of the sixteenth century. The European regard for the pearl at this time may be estimated by the eagerness with which pearls were sought on the American continent by the adventurers of Spain, and by the pains they took on the arrival here of a new expedition, to convey assurances to the King of Spain that pearls were to be had in the new conquest. In the commission appointing De Soto to the governorship of Cuba, and as adelantado of Florida, Charles V. stipulated that of the gold, silver, stones and pearls, obtained by barter or in battle or otherwise, a certain portion should be reserved for the Crown. In all the courts of Europe during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the pearl was, if not the chief, one of the most prominent jewels. Mary, Queen of Scots, possessed a rosary of pearls which excited the envy of Catherine de Médicis and Elizabeth of England, both of whom sought diligently to acquire them when the Scotch Queen became mired by misfortune. The virgin queen of England when she went in state to chapel, wore pendent pearls in her ears after the fashion of Rome, and borders of large pearls fastened on her dress. When in her time Sir Thomas Gresham of London, a wealthy subject, wished to show the Spanish Ambassador, who had boasted of the magnificence of his Sovereign’s court, how prodigal her liege subjects could be in her honor, nothing occurred to him more striking than to grind to powder a large pearl and mix it with the wine he drank to her health. This act of the English merchant shows that the pearl was then regarded by the great as the acme of costliness and beauty. From the reign of Francis I. of France to that of Louis XIII. the pearl was prominent in all jewels of note, and from that time to the death of Maria Theresa of Austria toward the close of the eighteenth century, it was worn in preference to all other gems. It was during the reign of Louis XIII. that Tavernier, the celebrated French Jeweller and traveller, assisted by that monarch, made his journeys into Asia. The account of his travels, published later, are highly esteemed for their truthfulness, and are regarded as exact, if prosaic statements of fact. The desire for the gem in Europe at this time was so great that Tavernier purchased over half a million dollars’ worth from the Arabian Sea. Probably the immense quantities of pearls sent to Spain from the Indies by her rovers in the early part of the sixteenth century, caused the vogue of that gem during the three centuries following, for not much mention is made of them in western Europe prior to that time. Nevertheless pearls were esteemed in the British Isles as early as the eleventh century, for it is recorded that Gilbert, Bishop of Limerick, sent a present of Irish pearls from the fishery at Omagh, to Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, about 1094, and Scotch pearls were not only in demand in Britain but on the continent also as early as the twelfth century. In 1355, the Parisian goldsmiths forbade by statute, workers in gold and silver to set Scotch pearls with the Oriental. The Oriental pearl probably came into Europe first from Egypt through the incursions of the Macedonians into that country. Later, when Alexander overran Persia his followers doubtless became yet more familiar with the gem, for they spread through Arabia and the Persian Gulf where ancient fisheries also existed. Pearls were not well known west and north of Asia and Africa at this time, for a writer of Mytilene in the island of Lesbos, about 350 B. C., which was but a few years before Alexander’s conquest of Persia, says: “In the Indian Sea, off the coasts of Armenia, Persia, Susiana and Babylonia, a fish like an oyster is caught, from the flesh of which men pick out white bones called by them ‘pearls’.” This would indicate that knowledge of them was being carried at that time by returning soldiers, camp-followers and travellers, and these men probably brought home also many of the “white bones,” obtained by trade or looting. Whatever the method by which they were introduced, pearls came into favor, and the favor increased as they were brought with other jewels from the looted treasuries of eastern potentates. The Macedonians established fisheries in the Red Sea, where the Egyptians obtained their chief supply, and the Romans later brought them also from the Arabian Sea. Three centuries B. C., the power of the Macedonians commenced to wane; Rome began to rise and overrun the countries which had been subject to the Macedonians; and pearls were thereby carried further west. The Romans adopted the pearl as a jewel of the first importance if not the chief of all, probably because they had found them so regarded by the older royalties they plundered. As the riches of surrounding and far-off countries which she raided, poured into the coffers of Rome, and the city grew to be the centre of power and wealth, the excesses of the rich became ludicrous to the verge of insanity. In their wild extravagances the pearl was prominent. Affected doubtless by the splendor of Asiatic courts, the rude soldiers of Rome learned to regard the pearl as a royal luxury, and therefore adopted it as a sign of great wealth and power. Enormous sums were paid for pearls of rare size and beauty. Great leaders of men vied with each other in the effort to add to their collections. It is said that Julius Cæsar’s chief incentive for pushing his conquests into the west so far, was his desire to obtain the pearls to be found in the streams of the British Isles. The Emperor Caligula decked his favorite horse with a necklace of pearls. Pliny says of Lollia Paulina, Caligula’s wife, that he had seen her so bedecked with pearls and precious stones that “she glittered and shone like the sun as she went.” Clodius, the glutton, claiming for them a very delicate flavor, placed one by the plate of each guest at a great banquet to be mixed with the wine. This same profligate, either setting the example or emulating Cleopatra, swallowed in a cup of wine one worth eight thousand pounds that he might have the pleasure of consuming so much value at once. If in the intrigues so common then, a woman’s influence was required, pearls were given her. To convey an indirect bribe to a man of high station a pearl of great price was presented to a member of his family. Women wore them while they slept that they might possess them in their dreams; they hung them in loose clusters suspended from the ears, that the tinkling might remind them of the beauty they could not see, and to attract the admiration and envy of others. These were called “crotalin,” meaning “rattles.” Young men of fortune in Athens and Rome followed the Persian fashion of wearing one in the right ear, hung as a clapper in a small bell of metal. So strong and general did the desire to own them become that Cæsar forbade unmarried women, and women under a certain rank, to wear them. Perhaps never in the history of jewels has the vogue of one so nearly approached a frenzy as that of the pearl in Rome during her days of extreme power and grandeur. The high esteem in which it was held there is reflected in the Seriptures. The Saviour used it in His parables as a symbol. The gates of the Holy City, as the prophet John saw it in his vision, were pearls. From that time until now, writers have used pearls to symbolize purity, innocence and the highest type of feminine beauty. To say that a woman’s teeth were like pearls has been the poets favorite adulation, and the discovery and sale of great pearls has been deemed of sufficient importance by travellers and historians to record them. Much of the literature of pearls is founded on the statements of Pliny regarding them: many, if not most, of the absurd beliefs as to their origin and superstitions concerning them, may be traced to the same source; and though these ancient errors have been repeatedly exposed by later scientists and naturalists the poetic absurdities of the industrious Roman compiler, gathered from contemporaneous writers and tradition are current to-day, for they appeal more to the child-like human love of the indefinite wonderful than the exact statements of research, though the latter are really more marvellous. Though jewels are regarded by many as baubles and of little account among the great commercial interests of the world, they have been an important factor in shaping the destiny of nations, changing the borders of great countries and thereby aiding the progress of civilization. As pearls helped materially to bring Rome to the British Isles and the colonists of Spain to South America, so it is quite probable that the pearls of Egypt had their influence in drawing the Macedonians to that country, to be followed by the Romans when the latter sought to overturn the Macedonian empire. Beyond this, their influence among those who held the reins in the government of empires, or those having power with them that did, cannot be estimated. Passing beyond the days of Greece and Rome to more remote times and countries, we come to the realms of conjecture. We know that pearls were known and used as jewels in Egypt under the Ptolemies. Chares of Mytilene mentioned that they were worn by women of the East about the neck and arms and even upon the feet. It is said there is a word for them in a Chinese dictionary four thousand years old. There is evidence that they had been used in India and the far East long before the West had knowledge of those countries, but we have nothing recorded which penetrates the past beyond three to four hundred years B. C., for there is not as much mention made of them in ancient writings familiar to the West as of other precious stones. Nevertheless the pearl is among the most ancient in the nomenclature of ewels because when it did come to be written of only the one thing could be meant. Nature produces nothing similar with which it could be confounded, whereas it is not certain that the diamond, ruby, and other stones as we know them, were intended when the names by which we designate them were used. Such indiscriminate use of names has been made by translators that it is difficult to determine what the stones really were about which ancient authors wrote. The names of those in the Jewish High Priest’s breastplate, given in our English version of the Old Testament, undoubtedly misrepresent the stones actually used, and the only thing authorities agree upon regarding the names is that they are incorrect. As there was no definite knowledge of the crystallography and chemistry of stones in the old days, writers referred to them often in general terms rather than by specific names, and these were translated into the names of later times according to the understanding of the translator, who had neither expert knowledge of his own nor reliable literature from which to gather information or guidance. An illustration of this general confusion occurs in the book of Job XXVIII. 18. It is written there, “No mention shall be made of coral, or of pearls; for the price of wisdom is above rubies.” Scholars tell us that the words translated here “coral” and “pearls,” signify “found in high places,” and are thought to be precious stones though the variety is unknown. The Targum renders the first “Sandalchin,” probably our sardonyx. Junius and Tremellius translated it “Sandaztros” in their Latin version of the Old Testament, whereas Pliny described it as a sort of carbuncle having shining golden drops in the body of it. After the same manner the last sentence,” For the price of wisdom is above rubies, is rendered by the great oriental scholar Bochart, “The extraction of wisdom is greater than the extraction of pearls,” and other authorities agree with him. Although there is evidence that many if not all the precious stones of to-day were known and used by the ancients, it is equally evident that they were much confounded and very roughly classified by general appearance only, and as various peoples gave them different names, all records of them are as misleading as the recorders were ignorant of their differential qualities. Even with the rapid increase of knowledge in the last few centuries, not until quite lately has science drawn the lines clearly between stones similar in appearance though essentially different and furnished means for the detection of those inherent differences. It is impossible therefore to learn by ancient writings how long any of the precious stones have been known and used as jewels, for we do not know positively what the stone was by the name given in old writings or by the translator of them. The pearl only has not been thus generally confounded with other gems. Once only are pearls mentioned in the Old Testament—the instance quoted from the book of Job. It would seem therefore, that although used as jewels, they were not regarded as of great value in the East prior to about 400 years B. C., at which time the last of the sacred Jewish books is supposed to have been written. True, royalty wore them in Egypt and the people of Persia and Arabia used them very generally for personal adornment; but they were abundant in those countries and there had been no demand for them beyond their borders, therefore, though beautiful, they were common and not appreciated fully. Upon the influx of foreign invaders from shores that yielded no such gems their status changed rapidly. The greedy avidity with which Greeks and Romans seized them, and the demand for them from the West which came later, gave these natives of pearl-producing shores a new idea of the value of their pearls and the trinkets became gems. It was a condition similar to that which arose nineteen hundred years later when the Spaniards invaded America. At their first coming the natives gave them freely large quantities of pearls and gleefully traded magnificent gems for broken pieces of gaudily painted and varnished porcelain. As one to-day might take a new acquaintance for a day’s fishing to a well-stocked stream, so the Indians took the Spaniards to the pearl banks to show them how they obtained their pearls. With pleasure and probably some amusement, they watched the age ness with which the strangers sought the pearls, and doubtless wondered at the gratification displayed when they found any. The Egyptians and Asiatics being more highly civilized undoubtedly valued their pearls more than the South American Indians did, but naturally they would not appreciate them so highly as they did after foreign desire had depleted their hoards and established a constant demand for them, greater than the yield of their fisheries. That this condition prevailed in Egypt and Asia prior to the advent of Europeans, is indicated by the apparent ignorance of the writer of the book of Job concerning pearls. The word used in Chapter XXVIII. 18 is simply the translator’s sign for an unknown quantity, and as the pearl is an apt symbol and illustration of many ideas connected with or embodied in the cult of the Jewish Church, the fact that the Jewish writers did not so use it, though the precious metals and other precious stones were so used, and though their books were written in various countries, suggests that the pearl in those days was not reckoned of equal importance with gold and silver and stones like those set in the Jewish High Priest’s breastplate for instance. That a very considerable change in the world’s estimate of the pearl took place during the four centuries B. C. is illustrated by the references made to pearls in the New Testament. Rome had made of the “white bones from a shellfish” of the fourth century B. C., a gem for the rich and powerful and so generally established it in the public estimation that the sacred writers used it to illustrate their greatest conceptions of beauty and spiritual worth. The Saviour likened the Kingdom of Heaven to “a pearl of great price.” under the similitude of pearls He counseled the reservation of holy things from men incapable of appreciating them. Paul and John numbered them among the costly adornments in the pride of life and with the most precious articles of merchandise. From that day, with the extension of commerce, and the growth of Western nations in affluence and refinement, the demand for pearls grew and spread until even the rude island of Britain learned to appreciate them. The quantities of large and beautiful pearls stored in the treasure-houses of Hindu princes suggest that they have existed as jewels in India for a very long period, but for how many centuries cannot be definitely stated. The probability is that in very remote ages, rude fishermen of tropic seas all over the world, while fishing for food were attracted by the lustrous objects found occasionally in the oysters which they gathered and that they saved them as things likely to please some maid or matron of their affections. A favor for them once established, they would be sought, and with the growth of intelligence and refinement would come increased appreciation. There is a close analogy in all things between the development of the individual and nations, and even of the world. Each progresses on the same lines, the difference consists in the magnitude and duration of the processes only. To the child, pearls are playthings; to youth, pretty baubles; to mature years, important gems; to age, most beautiful and wonderful creations, and the more intelligent and refined the individual, the more quickly are these stages of regard reached. So probably, in countries where they were found, pearls have risen with the evolution of a great nation out of a primitive race, from the rude favor of toilers of the sea, to a high place in the esteem of the princes of a cultivated people. It is quite probable that when the Aryans from the north spread over India, they found pearls among the possessions of the natives of the Madras and Malabar coasts, if not of the interior and north, as Spain sound them among the natives of South America. Having a higher order of intelligence, they would naturally estimate the gem as of greater value than the aborigines would. As the invaders in the course of centuries gradually divided themselves into castes, the gem would come largely into the hands of the highest and its value would increase with the affluence of the ruling class, according to the ratio existing between their wealth and that of the average community; for the centralization of wealth establishes a price for its imperishable forms which debars the masses from ownership. So, probably, the Aryans from the north acquired the pearls they found in the possession of the Dasyus. When the shepherd invaders were settled in the territory they had conquered and became divided into castes of Vaisyas, Kshattriya and Brahman, pearls gravitated to the upper classes, to be garnered later by their princes as the government assumed a tyrannical form; and so it is that the great pearls of India found in ancient times are among the jewels of the princes of India, or of the Shah of Persia and the Afghan Ameers, who in turn looted some of the richest treasuries of India. In countries east of India one can only imagine the history of pearls for there are no records of them. Year after year, for centuries and cycles, in undiscovered deeps, the beds of the sea were strewn with noble gems that through all their years of beauty lay neglected: the soft luster of succeeding charms appealed in vain for eyes which never came, and when the slow processes of time had brought decay they passed unseen to the catacombs of Nature. So it was in many a tropic sea, on unknown shores and about islands holding strange creatures and stranger men. In the still, clear waters of far-away lagoons, treasures of pearls, released by the death of their creators, have rolled to a resting-place on coral reefs, to lie there until the sea, atom by atom, devoured them. Could all the pearls hoarded by every nation on earth be gathered together, the mighty sum would be small compared with the number of those which lie buried beneath the ocean. But, one by one, slant-eyed Celestials, Maoris, Malays, Papuans, Polynesians and others, discovering, learned to prize and hoard the pearl. Then came men from far-off wonderlands, whose great ships spread their sails to the winds of the deep waters and who could endure for many days the solitudes of the great seas. These in the early days made war to plunder, but were replaced as the centuries passed, by others who gave gaudy beads and cloths of many colors and water that fired the soul and other wonderful things, in exchange for the white beads of the sea, and so the pearls of the unenlightened children of the South Seas passed to the princes of the West, even as the same restless spirits, spreading their sails to the winds of the great seas in the opposite direction, brought them east from more barbarous shores far away to the westward. Our knowledge of pearls reaches back about twenty-three hundred years, through the writings of Pliny, who nearly nineteen hundred years ago gathered the facts of his day and the rumors of traditions concerning them. Beyond that we can only surmise that in prehistoric ages, with the dawn of intelligence in the infantile period of the race, men dwelling near tropic seas were attracted by them as children are by bright and pretty baubles; and that as humanity by families, tribes and nations, grew out of savagery to the mental stature of a man, so pearls grew to be jewels very precious.
THE FASHION OF PEARLS
Although the pearl like all other jewels, has had its periods of extreme and general public favor, unlike other gems if it is once appreciated by an individual or a nation it is never utterly discarded by either. If not the fashion, pearls are always in fashion. Far as we can look back among the dim, uncertain figures of the mystic past whose shades stand where the unknown multitudes have fallen, we find pearls. The princes of India through all their generations, the dynasties of Egypt, the royalties of Persia, the wild chiefs of Arab tribes, the potentates of Greece, Rome and Venice, the houris of Turkey, the Queens of every European court, from the time they found a place in history until now, all wear pearls. At first thought this seems strange, for of all gems the origin of the pearl is most humble. No titanic forces, groaning in the travail of subterranean convulsions, crushed and ground and fired its particles to shape and beauty. It grew, a few fathoms deep, where the waters are at peace, in the embrace of a mollusk and out of its exudations. From this lowly parentage it rises at once to a place among the noblest, for it is the aristocrat of gems and finds its warmest admirers among the aristocrats of all nations. The favorites of fortune the world over in all ages have succumbed to the modest beauty of the pearl. Its ascendancy marks not alone the refinement of the individuals with whom it finds favor, but the high status of the nation where it is widely appreciated. The pearl is the favorite of those who are surfeited with jewels. One may become tired of the diamond’s splendor, but those who learn to appreciate the unobtrusive loveliness of the pearl, seldom lose that fondness for them which it develops. It is the one gem which does not satiate. The love of pearls usually marks a connoisseur of gems and one accustomed to the possession of jewels. Diamonds emblazon the gates of luxury but pearls are the familiars of the luxurious. Glittering gems are admired by all classes but usually the pearl is fully appreciated only by old countries and persons” to the manor born. It is in the treasure-houses of the princes of the Orient and among the jewels of great and noble families that one must look for the pearls gathered during the centuries. Except in Italy and Arabia, where all classes prize them, the pearl is not a jewel of the people, but of the gentry and the very rich who come in contact with them. It is essentially a jewel for the wealthy. Unostentatious, exquisite, it is insufficient for those who have no other jewels and unfit for common wear. Of a nature too delicate for rough usage, it must be well cared for and properly housed. Even then the hand of time bears heavily upon it for it is susceptible to many influences which do not affect other gems. Comparatively soft, the lustrous skin is injured by rough and careless contact with other jewels. The gold of the setting, in time, cuts into the surface where it binds, or if it is pierced and strung, the rings of nacre about the orifices gradually peel away. Hot water injures it; gases discolor it. As the cheek of beauty grows dim with age, so gradually the brilliancy of youth fades from the pearl and the complexion of it is changed. And yet it retains a certain loveliness which may well be compared to the exquisite serenity with which the maturer years of some women are adorned. The pearl, therefore, being essentially a jewel of the rich, is not affected as others by the whims of fashion. In Oriental countries, where the lives of the masses and what little proper hey hold are practically at the mercy of their rulers, the centuries make little change in conditions and less in fashions. The nobles have always possessed the jewels of the various eastern countries and the fashion continues through generations and dynasties, to accumulate and hold them until some stronger power takes them away by force. As the people hammered heavy bracelets and anklets out of the precious metals, not alone for display, but also to hoard them, so their princes hoarded jewels. In the old times these hoards of the precious metals were periodically gathered by the requisitions of the princes on the people, and of jewels by the demands of a successful invader upon the princes; but while the possessors changed, the fashion remained always the same, and whether the Shah of Persia, the Ameer of Afghanistan, or the Mogul, there has been no variation in the constant desire to obtain more jewels, pearls among them, and to display them after the same fashion through all the generations. To some extent this is true of pearls in the Occident also. Since Rome set the fashion there has not been a time in the history of any European nation, once it had risen to the pearl-wearing eminence, when the upper classes did not wear pearls. There is this difference between the East and the West however; whereas the men of the East wear them, in the West, pearls are worn almost entirely by women alone. The more rugged life of European men, the coarser fabrics of their garments to suit climatic needs, and their virile distaste for effeminate display, all combine to bar them from a jewel suited only to soft silks and linens or the touch of softer flesh. In ancient times, among Asiatics, fashion probably did not culminate in any direction, as to-day, in a vogue. The inability of the masses to follow a fashion of the upper classes, both for lack of means and permission to do so; the absence of all rapid methods of communication between sections of country within and without national borders, with the consequent limitations of a knowledge of men and things to community affairs, and the paucity of manufacturing possibilities, all combined to make fashions permanent. With the awakening of the vigorous barbarian tribes of Europe to a knowledge of their power, and their rapid civilization, came the frenzied desire of men new to the situation, to crowd as much as possible into the span of life. Rome rioted in the accumulations of ages. With an appetite whetted by an heredity of unsatisfied desire, she drank the finest vintages and gourmandized the choicest morsels of the world, immune from present punishment for excess by a long ancestry of hard and simple lite. Every land that she could reach, sent to her the best of all their products, and from the incoming tide of things new to her experience, she adopted many fashions, among them that of wearing pearls. For several centuries they were in vogue, so much so that edicts were issued restricting them to certain classes. Since that time, the very general use of them by persons of high station in Europe, beyond all other gems, seems to have been confined to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and is now being revived at the opening of the twentieth. There is one fashion of wearing pearls which is common to all ages and races, viz. strung as beads in chains to hang about the neck. The mound-builders of North America, the Indians of the Mississippi Valley, of Virginia, of the coasts of Florida, of the lands around the Gulf of Mexico and everywhere in New Spain, all wore them so. Egyptians, Persians, Arabians Hindus, Singhalese and South Sea islanders, many of them without knowledge of countries or peoples beyond their own or very near territory, alike adopted this fashion. And it has been followed by every newer people, as they acquired by trade or the sword, the pearls with which to so adorn themselves. In lands of tropic heat the women wound these strings of pearls about their arms, wrists and ankles also. Nor was the fashion confined to women. When the Spaniards first reached these shores, the caciques of Florida and the incas of Peru, on occasions of State, wore ropes of pearls around their necks, and so to this day do the rajahs and princes of India and the eastern islands. The more civilized peoples used round pearls, and became more critical about the quality and perfection of the gems as they grew in wealth and refinement. The necklaces found in the Indian mounds are made principally of baroques, some of them rounded, but many of them long, slender pieces, bored a short distance from the thinner end, so that they hung in pendant festoons. As with all primitive races, the magnificence of size appealed to the Indians of this hemisphere as it did also to the Spanish adventurers who first landed on the coasts of America. A chronicler of events during the time when De Soto was governor of the province which now forms several of the Southern States, mentions that à cacique brought as a present to the governor at the town of Ichiaha, a string of pearls as large as filberts, five feet long. It is noticeable, that in all the accounts given of the wealth of pearls discovered in the pos session of the natives, the Spaniards rarely say anything about the shape or quality of the pearls seen or taken, but always mention the size when large. They do, however, constantly deplore the discoloration caused by the use of fire in the process of boring them. One may imagine the chagrin of these freebooters on finding heaps of royal gems wrecked by the ignorance of the plundered; the value burned out of them, like bank notes for millions mutilated beyond redemption. The pearls composing this five-foot string were all discolored, good enough for Indians, but of little value in Spain and Europe. Round baroques are strung for necklaces to this day, especially in Italy, where the peasantry save from their small earnings the equivalent of two to three hundred dollars, to them an enormous sum, to buy the coveted necklace of pearls. These necklaces are composed usually of several strands of small rounded baroques weighing about one to two grains each and connected by bars. Usually there arc three to five strands, but some are made with as many as eleven or twelve. Necklaces are made also in the same way, of small round pearls, and the bars, of which there are generally four, including that containing the clasp, are studded with diamonds. The Asiatics prefer strings of large pearls, graduating in size on either side from a large central one. A number of these of increasing length and fastened together at the clasp are worn by Oriental royalties, so that each string festoons below the preceding one, the lowest and longest string sometimes hanging to the waist. There are few however even among the Hindu princes whose store of large pearls is equal to such prodigality. When pearl necklaces were adopted by the Romans after their conquests in Egypt, Persia and India, they vied with the monarchs they had conquered, some of their rulers acquiring pearls of enormous value. The wife of Caligula owned pearls worth two million dollars, but Oriental treasure-houses held greater accumulations. The pearls of the late Rana of Dholpur in Upper India, were valued at seven and a half million dollars. From Rome the fashion spread with the advance of civilization through all the nations of Europe and followed their colonizations westward. Only in the last decade has the use of pearls in the United States become sufficiently general to place them in the list of things that are a fashion. Many large pearls of pear, egg, or drop shape, and some round, are used as pendants, to be hung on slender gold neck chains, or suspended from brooches of diamonds. They are bored at the smaller end to a depth of about one-eighth of an inch, the hole is filled with a composition which hardens rapidly, and in this a gold wire, looped at one end for connecting, is inserted. Formerly the pearl was drilled quite through and the suspending wire riveted, but this is rarely done now as it lessens the value of the pearl and destroys the perfect pendant effect. This is a European fashion. The Chinese mount pearls by boring into the body of the pearl at two, three or four points and inserting the bent ends of spreading wires so that the gem is clasped as by spreading fingertips. Pear-shaped pearls were used in Rome for pendant purposes as now and were known as “elenchi.” After the Roman fashion of “crotalia” or “castanet” eardrops had passed, drop pearls continued in more or less favor throughout succeeding centuries as eardrops, the matching of one nearly doubling the value of both. Of late, egg and pear-shaped pearls have been used largely as heads for scarf pins. They are drilled and set on a gold wire or “pegged” as it is called, in the manner described for pendants but with the smaller end resting upon a light gold ring soldered to the scarf pin, or in a small cup, so that the pressure, while inserting the pin, is distributed over the body of the pearl and upon the end, instead of upon the inner wall in contact with the end of the pin. The Persians used pearls largely in the jewelling of royal headgear, for Pompey is said to have brought home twenty crowns of pearls with the loot from his eastern raid. Hindu princes strung them on straight wires of equal length and bound a number of them together, to be fastened as pompons or aigrettes, to their turbans. They encrusted and edged their robes with them as also did the royalties and nobles of Europe during the middle ages. Seed pearls were strung in lengths of four to six feet and the strands twisted together like a rope. This fashion continues to this day, such ropes of pearls sometimes measuring five feet in length. The semi-barbarous Indian tribes of America did not confine the use of pearls altogether to personal adornment. They decorated their idols, state canoes, the handles of the paddles, and the figures in their temples with them, and they buried enormous quantities in the sepulchres with their dead. There is no evidence that this latter form of extravagance was at any time general in Asia or Europe, but Julius Cæsar made a buckler of British pearls which he hung up in the temple of Venus Genetrix after dedicating it to her. Among the ancients it does not appear that pearls were used in connection with the precious metals to a great extent. Collars of gold and silver with large pearls as pendants were sometimes seen upon the necks of Indians by the Spaniards when they landed on this continent, but in Asia, Africa, and upon their first introduction into Europe, pearls were not used with the metals as freely as other gems. As the art of the jeweller developed however, they came into more general use and are now utilized with gold in every form of jewelry. Round and button pearls with diamonds or other stones, or alone, are set in gold as brooches, ear-rings, finger-rings, bracelets, hair-ornaments, scarfpins, dress-pins, studs, cuff and dress buttons, etc., and baroques are also used for the same purposes. Brooches, lockets and pendants are paved with solid masses of half pearls. Some ancient swords of Hindu warriors betray a curious custom. A groove with overlapping edges was sunk in the blade and into this pearls were introduced from the hilt end to represent the tears of enemies. There are blades so constructed in the collection of Indian swords presented to King Edward of England when, as the Prince of Wales, he visited India, Jewellers frequently avail themselves of the odd shapes in which baroques occur to construct unique jewels. Nature frequently gives them a resemblance to animals, and sometimes to the human figure and face, which may be accentuated by the jeweller’s art so as to make the resemblance striking. In one notable instance lately, a baroque was so mounted that it might easily pass as a modelled portrait of Queen Victoria. Baroques resembling bird’s wings are common and are often made effective by mounting them on a bird of gold. Others remind one of fish, birds, insects, and beasts of various kinds. Clustered pearls enveloped together sometimes look like dog’s heads, in which two of the enveloped pearls near the surface pass for eyes. Long, slender baroques are set to resemble the petals of a chrysanthemum, and others, mounted singly in sepals of gold, are suggestive of the buds of various flowers, roses, lilies, etc. Round and button pearls are used extensively now, and have been at various periods formerly, as centres for circles, or “clusters” of diamonds mounted as scarf-pins, finger-rings and formerly, when they were worn, as car-rings. The pearls are sometimes drilled and set on a peg; sometimes they are held by claws or prongs as the diamonds surrounding them are. Pearls are very generally used now as studs by men for evening dress, usually mounted on pegs so as to avoid the display of any gold. But all fashions of wearing pearls except as necklaces, are ephemeral. The fashion of pearl necklaces has been constant for thousands of years, though it is only brought to general public notice when some new country with its great and rapid accretions of wealth, adopts it. The markets of the world are then affected, the price of the gem rises, and this in turn tempts ancient and impoverished families to unlock their jewel cases to the bidding of the nouveau riche. That this condition has existed from the beginning of this century is shown by the sales which are being made constantly in Europe at the great public auctions of jewels. In 19o1 the Comtesse de Castiglione necklace was sold for $84,000. At the sale of the Princess Mathilde jewels in Paris, a three strand necklace of 133 pearls weighing 3320 grains, once the property of Queen Sophie of Holland, brought 885,000 francs, which with the taxes to the purchaser made the cost $188,000. At the same sale, a seven strand collar given by Napoleon I. to the Queen of Westphalia, weighing 4,200 grs., brought $89,000, and another collar once owned by the same Queen containing thirty-three black pearls, weighing 1040 grs. was sold for §20,240. Several fine strings were sold in London in 1903. Among them a three-row necklace from the Aquila Jewels for $22,400. A ring of 198 finely matched gem pearls, round and graduated, was sold at Christie’s for 6,500 pounds. A triple row of 153 of the same kind brought 6,500 pounds. Many important sales have been made in the States, during the last ten years especially, but as they were made privately, and as buyers here are averse to any publicity they are not chronicled. It is a fact well known to jewellers, that Americans in their home market are extremely difficult. They demand a degree of perfection, not only in the gems themselves, but also in the matching of them, rarely exacted in other countries. There are strings of pearls in this country which if less magnificent, for extreme perfection and beauty are seldom equalled by the more notorious jewels of Europe, and princely sums have been paid for single pieces of great size and purity. Greater quantities of the coveted treasures of the earth are pouring into the lap of the United States of America through the channels of peaceful industry, than were ever gathered to a nation in the olden times by the marauders of the sword, and the jewel cases of our princes of commerce will soon eclipse those held by the scions of ancient freebooters.
VARIETIES
True pearls are divided primarily into two classes, “oriental,” and “freshwater.” By true pearls those creations are meant which consist of concentric layers of nacre or mother-of-pearl, as distinguished from similar formations by mollusks out of material that is not pearly. In the early days pearls brought from the Orient were therefore called “Oriental” pearls. For the same reason the fine mellow luster which characterized and made them superior to others came to be known as the “orient” of the pearl. These pearls were taken from oysters found on the coasts of Ceylon, Arabia, and the Red Sea. Later, when the same kind of oysters containing similar pearls were found in other seas, they were also classified with them, until the term “oriental” is now applied usually to all true pearls taken from salt water mollusks, to distinguish them from those found in the fresh water mussels and other products of ocean shellfish which, though similar in construction and composition, are not nacreous. Occasionally, however, the term is still applied specifically to pearls from the Indian Seas, though their “orient” or luster is not always finer than that of like pearls found in many other localities. Pearl oysters are varieties of the Avicula Margaritifera, of which the Meleagrina Margaritifera is the most prolific of mother-of-pearl and pearls combined, and, the Indian excepted, yields the finest pearls. All pearl oysters do not produce sufficient mother-of-pearl to make their shells valuable, nor do they all contain pearls. The name therefore applies to all oysters whose secretions are productive, in some degree, of mother-of-pearl and therefore under favorable conditions of pearls also. “Fresh-water” or “sweet-water” pearls are, as the name signifies, those found in the mollusks of inland waters. This mollusk is a mussel. The name “mussel” in Anglo-Saxon signifies something which retires on being touched. It is known as “Unio,” of which there are many pearl-bearing varieties. In both the sea oyster and the fresh-water mussel, other nacreous formations occur of irregular shape called “baroque” pearls. The orientals approach more nearly to the globular and hemispherical form of true pearls, having frequently the lumpy rotundity of a snowball and sometimes sections which are smooth and round. The fresh-water baroques are usually very irregular, often fantastically so. Many resemble the incisor teeth of man or distorted grains of corn. Slender pieces similar to the wing of a bird and therefore called, “wing” pearls, or “hinge” pearls because they are found near the hinge of the shell, are common. Some are shaped like a flat spike nail. Unlike oriental baroques, the surface of a large proportion of the fresh-waters is grooved or indented and some show a beautiful iridescence. Large button baroques of fine luster and iridescent, especially when they have a decided tinge of pink, have come to be known of late as “rose” pearls. Another variety of pink baroques having a fairly regular shape with a lustrous and finely irregular pimply surface are known as “strawberry” pearls. These terms are applied indiscriminately to the two varieties however. Another nacreous formation found in the mother-of-pearl oyster shells is the “blister.” It is produced by the raising of the nacreous deposits above the level of the shell to cover some intruder of considerable size. This results in a growth similar in shape to a blister on the flesh, hence the name. It is cut out of the shell and used in various ways as a set for jewelry, or to imitate the bodies of insects or small animals. Others with a slightly higher dome and rounded oval shape, regular in form, are called “turtlebacks.” Some of these hollow shells of pearl have been found to cover small fish, lizards, etc. The writer saw one which appeared to be a large button-pearl. On lifting, it proved to be a shell of several thicknesses of nacre covering a small shell-fish about a half-inch in diameter. The imprisoned mollusk was shrunken and crumbling so that the nacreous covering could be lifted from over it, a hollow dome of pearl. Mud blisters are common in some waters and depreciate the quality of the shell and are otherwise useless. A typical mud blister appears in the shell illustrated herewith. The Abalone pearl occurs usually as a baroque or blister but occasionally it is found solid and spherical. Although it is not classed among true pearls, a few globular pieces found are entitled to a place among them because they are sometimes identical in construction and have a similar pearly luster, it is however very liable to crack and break and can seldom be pierced with safety. The shell-fish from which it takes the name is the Haliotis, called here the Abalone. It is known under many names—earshell, Venus’s ear, etc. In the English Channel Islands it is the ormer, and on the adjacent coast of France where it is very abundant the name for it is similar— “ormier.” The Aelonians called it the “Ear of Venus.” The shell is ear-shaped, flattened, slightly spiral and has a series of round holes near the edge curving with the last whorl toward the boss. As it grows, the oldest of these are successively filled up and the last remaining open, serves as the anal channel. The exterior is very rough and unsightly, but the mother-of-pearl interior is one of the most exquisite pieces of color work painted by the hand of nature and to this is added an enlivening iridescence most fascinating. Like it, the pearl formations are deeply tinted. Brownish reds, peacock greens, and dark grays are the prevailing colors. They are seldom of even color or luster, many of them having but one lustrous point where a pearly glaze seems to have been incorporated with the earthenware like surface. Usually the pearls when round and lustrous are not constructed as compactly as those of the bivalves. The texture of the skins vary in quality and the frequent presence of intermediary strata of black conchiolin which shrink, makes them liable to crack and break. The blisters run very even in these two qualities of color and luster and though seldom quite as brilliant as the nacre of the shell, are very beautiful and often curiously formed. These blister-baroques are like two blisters joined at the edges, and are liable to separate there. The interior consists chiefly of black conchiolin, rough and somewhat shiny. The “Conch” pearl, found in the Conch (Strombus gas) of the West Indies, also is not a true pearl. The shell is used largely for ornamental purposes, especially for the cutting of cameos, and also in porcelain works. It is a large shell, sometimes weighing four or five pounds. Formerly great quantities were exported to England from the Bahamas; in one year as many as three hundred thousand. Conch pearls are devoid of nacreous luster, the surface having an appearance like china. They are slightly transparent and show under the surface a series of delicate wavy markings. The silky sheen of these lines causes them to appear lighter than the body color of the pearl, and they seem to branch toward the surface, changing kaleidoscopically as the pearl is turned. Almost without exception the shape is ovoid, or a flattened ovoid, though some are distorted. In color they range from very pale to deep pink and coral red, the ends being usually much lighter than the body and often white. In the deeper tints they are more uniform in color, and as they are apt to be less lustrous and transparent as the shade deepens to red they show less plainly the distinguishing wavy lines, and may be easily mistaken for pieces of coral cut to the shape and polished. They are very delicate and therefore easily fractured or cracked. As the natives usually obtain the pearls by cooking the fish, for which they have a great liking, a large proportion of the few which come into the market are cracked. It is claimed also that the color fades with time. They are sometimes called “Nassau” pearls. Pearls similar in appearance to the Conch, except that the wavy lines are absent and the skin rarely as brilliant, are taken with true pearls from the small varieties of the Avicula, especially about the coast of Venezuela. Some are white as chalk, many are tinted in various shades of gray, yellow and brownish reds. They have the shining appearance of china in different degrees, but no nacreous luster. The skins of many of these are peculiarly constructed, they show modified characteristics of various parts of the shell. The surface wave lines are present to some extent, together with curious malformations of prisms and conchiolin. The hexagonal faces look as though they had been doubled up upon themselves together with a layer of conchiolin, the latter appearing as thick black V or U shaped marks in the faces of the distorted hexagons. Heretofore these have been considered valueless, but it is possible that with the increasing vogue of pearls and the growing desire for oddities, they will be utilized in the cheaper forms of jewelry. Creations similar in construction to pearls are found occasionally in the common oyster and clam. Though entirely devoid of the pearly texture and luster, some of them are very perfect in shape and smoothness of skin. Whether taken from the oyster or clam they are usually called “clam pearls.” The color of the oyster pearl is generally a light drab. The clam pearls are mostly purplish red or blue, often dark enough to appear black. Those taken from the oyster are generally round; those from the clam are more frequently ovoid. Occasionally one or both ends of the oval are lighter in color, as the Conch pearl is, changing there to a dark red or purple. When the color is very dark and the skin uncommonly good, they have been sold for black pearls by unscrupulous dealers. They are accounted of little value, though exceptionally large pieces will sometimes sell for as much as one hundred to a hundred and fifty dollars. Similar to these, pearly formations characterized by a glazed, or glassy, or shiny surface, are found in many molluscan varieties, bivalves and univalves, but none of these are true pearls. Pearls similar to the pink Conch are found in the shank or chank of Ceylon (Turbinella scolymus). This is the sacred shell of the Hindus and the national emblem of Travancore in the Madras presidency, India. Vishnu carries a chank called “Devadatta” in his hand. It is said his first incarnation was for the purpose of destroying Shankhásura (the giant chank shell), and thereby regaining the Vedas, which had been stolen and taken to ocean deeps.
COLOR
The ideal color for a pearl is white. Although all fine white pearls show by comparison a tint of some color, a fine white must be free from an appearance which can only be described as “dark.” It is not color always but a certain density which makes the gem appear dead by comparison with the soft, warm, life-like white of the perfect pearl. The layers or skins of some pearls are more transparent than others and this imparts a liveliness which is absent in the more dense. Upon looking at a string of pearls held between the eye and the light, some will appear much lighter than others and show a translucent band about one-fifth the diameter of the pearl, extending from the edge of the circumference inward. Such pearls upon examination will be found much finer in color and texture than those which have the appearance beside them of dark opaque spots when held against the light. There is also a white which is not dark and is yet dead. To some extent it is characteristic of all fresh-water pearls. It is a chalky, milky white that even when lustrous, carries a reminder of chalk in the texture and lacks the essential life of the ideal pearl. Color in the highest perfection is found in the pearls of the Ceylon and Australian waters, the former being also very lustrous, and such are sometimes termed by the trade “Madras,” after the city where the Indian pearls have been marketed for ages. It must not be inferred however that pearls equally good are not found in other localities, but that the color averages better, and the number of gems of ideal color and luster is greater from the Ceylon fisheries than elsewhere. The color and texture, and therefore luster, of fine Indian pearls is seldom equalled, never surpassed. To those who are without experience, and see for the first time a large quantity of pearls apparently alike in color, it would seem an easy matter to match any required number; but in attempting to gather sufficient for a single strand necklace, one would learn that a parcel or series of pearls, seemingly all white, contains a surprisingly great variety of shades or tones of color; that which appears at first sight quite easy becomes in the attempt extremely difficult. Probably nothing requires a sharper eye, a more delicate sense of color and greater patience, than the assembling of a finely matched string of pearls. Bearing in mind that size, shape, color, and perfection, must all correspond, it is not surprising that few strings exist which are above criticism. Those who buy them seldom realize what enormous quantities of pearls, and skilful and painstaking effort is necessary, to match perfectly, thirty or more, especially of large size. Pearls which, separated by a few inches seem alike, when brought close together reveal differences of texture and tone of color sufficiently pronounced to arrest the eye and destroy that ideal perfection of purity which permits no spot to mar the symmetry of an assemblage of these emblematic gems. It was said in old times that to match a pearl perfectly was to double the value of both; one may imagine therefore the difficulty which confronts the modern jeweller when he undertakes in this critical age to match thirty or forty The color most common in pearls of all seas is yellow, but it is not so with fresh-water ones. Other colors are seldom found except as tints in white pearls, but distinctly yellow oriental pearls are abundant. The tones of color in the white are, yellow, blue, pink and green. They are so slight that it is difficult to recognize them except by comparison. The blue and pink are considered best, the champions of each being about equal. The green come next in favor and the yellow last. This order applies fully however to the Occident only. Some Oriental peoples do not draw such fine distinctions, and the Chinese prefer the creamy yellow to any other. The “blue” pearls, or “Panama” pearls as they are sometimes called in the trade, must not be confounded with the blue white pearls just mentioned. “Blue” pearls are of a dingy, slaty blue tint. They have a dark appearance and the luster is seldom good. As many of this character are found in the Panama waters such pearls are often sold as “Panama” pearls. They are even less desirable than those which are decidedly yellow, though persons of a little knowledge will often buy them in preference to others which are better, because they are not yellow and are cheap. “Fancies” include all decided colors, or those having a rare and beautiful tint. Yellow pearls as generally found are not classed among them because the color is not fine, but dark, “brackish” one might term it. A clean buttercup yellow, or an orange yellow, would be “fancy” however. On the other hand a deep pink is seldom fine as the color is then almost invariably muddy, whereas the clean delicate light pink pearls are rare and highly esteemed. A clear grass green is never seen but the color occurs in very beautiful bronze and peacock shadings. Various shades of blue, rose, copper and red with bronze effects, and black are included in this classification. Black pearls are much prized, and the term covers a wide range of dark shades of gray, slate, brown and red. The ideal color however is sufficiently deep to be, as the name indicates, black, though it has not the metallic appearance of hematite, nor the polished shine of the black clam pearl. Black pearls having a bronze effect are open to suspicion, especially if they are pierced, as many of them are artificially colored and are liable to fade. Such pearls have a somewhat metallic appearance, are seldom very lustrous, and if there is a rough chalky place in the skin it will be blacker there than elsewhere. It is difficult to give rules by which to judge color, but there is a quality which can only be described as “clean.” It is free from muddiness and is desirable in pearls as in all other gems. The proportion of fancy colors is greater in fresh-water pearls than in the orientals. In the United States the fisheries which have vielded the finest “fancies are those of Wisconsin, Kentucky and Tennessee. Of sea pearls, most of the fine black ones come from the coasts of Mexico. Beautiful colored pearls are found in fisheries of the Oceanic Islands, for instance at the Isles of New Caledonia and Gambier, and in China and Japan. To make close comparisons of color in pearls, place them on white cotton under or opposite a strong natural light. To judge shape and luster, roll them on black cloth. These are the most trying conditions and it should be remembered by those who test them thus, that no position as jewels when worn can be so unfavorable or trying.
IMPERFECTIONS
Few pearls are perfect. The great majority of small pearls even, fail in one or more of the ideal qualities, and as the size increases perfection becomes more rare. A perfect pearl is not necessarily of the finest luster, but it must be lustrous and of even luster all over. If round, it must be spherically round; if pear or ovoid, symmetrically so, and the skin must be free from blemishes. Baroque and button pearls are naturally imperfect pearls, the former being fantastically irregular in shape and the latter partially deformed. Imperfections of shape in what are termed round pearls are more numerous than those unaccustomed to handling them would suppose. A lot of pearls which to the casual glance seem to be all quite round, will be found often on close examination to contain many, if not a majority, that are not. Upon rolling them separately, irregularities will appear which the luster and contiguity of others concealed. It will be discovered that the domes of some are slightly flattened at one part of the sphere; in others at two opposite points so as to form a Very many have slight double domed disk. protuberances above the contour of the sphere, or places in the spherical line, which though not flat, are depressed. While these minor imperfections of shape do not materially hurt the beauty of the pearl, they do decrease the value somewhat, and as they are quite common even among fine selected pearls they accentuate the rarity of the perfectly spherical. The adventures of a pearl from the moment when the mollusk begins to cover its nucleus with nacre, until the fisher squeezes it from the folds of the creature’s mantle, are many and varied. A few only escape untoward happenings. The fortunate, born where the mollusk gathers and spreads its choice secretions of mother-of-pearl, with room to grow on every side, are nursed in the lap of good fortune and uncheckered, round out layer by layer to perfection. But some are not so fortunate. In some way cramped, they are held against the unyielding shell and grow flat on one side. These are the button pearls. Others either from an irregular rolling, or unequal action of the mollusk’s mantle, become imperfectly round. Sometimes foreign particles attach themselves to a growing pearl and becoming enveloped with it in future layers, make an uneven surface. Not infrequently two round pearls grow side by side until they touch, and together are enveloped by succeeding deposits; a twinned pearl is the result. For some reason, drop and pear shape pearls are seldom imperfect in shape. They may not be ideal but the form is usually good and the contour even and regular. This would imply that the simple rolling motion by the fish is more regular than the more complicated movements necessary to form a sphere. Imperfections in the texture and luster of the skin are said to be due to the movement of the growing pearl among the zones of the mollusk’s mantle supplying the varied material for the epidermis, middle shell, and lining. The difficulties confronting this theory are explained in the chapter on the “Genesis of Pearls.” These imperfections consist generally of dead white chalky spots and streaks, distributed over the surface of the pearl, oftentimes so small as to escape notice except under the loup. Sometimes these imperfections take the form of rings or bands which encircle the pearl. Pearls so marked are rarely if ever round, but ovoid, capsule, or cartridge shaped, and these chalky lines always encircle the cylinder; they never cross the dome. Rings around the dome occur, but the surface over them is of equal luster. Frequently the entire outer skin is without luster. Whether this arises from lack of some element in the exudations of the mollusk from which the pearl is created, or from an imperfect crystallization of the calcium carbonate, is not known. Such skins have the usual nacreous surface wave lines and are often lustrous immediately under the outer plates of the skin. It is possible that these chalky skins may result from the extraction of the pearl from the mollusk during a transitional stage, and that the presence of spots and streaks of that character. scattered over an otherwise lustrous surface. indicates that the secretions of the creature’s mantle did not hold some essential ingredient in sufficient quantity to secure perfect crystallization and thereby cover the entire surface with transparent plates of calcium carbonate. It may be also that a lack of essential elements in the creature’s exudations, causes a cessation of the mantle’s action which by all signs appears necessary for the production of transparent plates of nacre. “Peelers” are pearls of imperfect skins having indications of a better one underneath. Speculators buy these pearls at a low price and skin them. Sometimes they are rewarded by a smaller, but much more valuable pearl. Many times the under skins are no better or worse, or if better, the loss in size and weight, together with the cost of the work, make it unprofitable. Peeling should not be attempted with cylindrical shaped pearls having chalky bands or rings around them, as such imperfections usually penetrate to the interior in pearls of that character. Cylindrical pearls are almost invariably fresh-waters. The imperfections disclosed in the under skins by peeling, are commonly irregularities of shape which have been rounded over to the improvement of the sphericity of the pearl. It is currently reported among the pearl hunters who fish the western and southern streams, that the finding of soft pearls is not infrequent. Upon opening the mussel, they sometimes see through the mantle of the creature, an apparently fine pearl which upon being taken out proves to be a soft jelly-like substance, the form of which is usually destroyed in squeezing it out. These men do not believe that a pearl is formed in layers, but think that all pearls are originally globules of a similar soft substance, hardening later to a compact solid ball and they call them mussel eggs. Many pearls taken from the small thin shelled varieties of the ocean mollusk, as for instance those of Venezuela, are devoid in part, or wholly, of the nacreous luster and instead have a china like or waxy luster, or a dead chalky skin. A large proportion of the Abalone pearls and baroques are lustrous only in part, one section having an earthenware appearance. Many appear to be formed of interstratified layers of nacre and conchiolin. This construction is very distinct in a formation peculiar to the Abalone, consisting of two nacreous shells joined perfectly at the edges, the inside walls of both being covered with rough black conchiolin. Peculiarities in the quality of the nacre sometimes give an appearance of uneven shape which does not exist in reality. The light falling upon such pearls produces a knobby effect, as though there were protuberances on the surface. The texture of others is such that when looked at squarely from the front they appear pyramidal in form, the rounded apex pointing toward the observer. Such pearls have a soft, waxy appearance generally. Another common imperfection consists of pits in the surface. These may result from various causes: in many cases from the dislodgement and rolling of a pearl which has been flattened during earlier stages by pressure in one position against the shell. Freed from this hindrance to spherical growth, the later concentric layers would round over the edge of the flat spot and thereby leave a pit, or cavity, in the centre. In other cases pressure against the pearl, or the partial inclusion of foreign substances, especially of an organic nature which decay before being entirely covered, are possible causes. The reverse of this also occurs; grains of sand or other minute particles adhering to the surface are covered by succeeding layers, thereby producing knobs, more or less observable according to the lapse of time between their inclusion and the taking of the pearl from the oyster. If undisturbed, the fish will by the deposit of sufficient layers of nacre, fill the intervals and round the surface again. That this is done in time is shown by the occurrence of pearls having an even dome over a nucleus formed by a cluster of small round and irregular pearls enveloped together. In the process of skinning, or the removal of one or more of the layers of nacre, it is sometimes found that a depression has been filled by a thickening of the deposits in the hollow; at other times extra layers fill the space, and these flaking out with the outer skin reveal the hidden irregularity which lay beneath the round surface, thus necessitating the removal of several entire skins before a sphere is reached again. The under skins of some pearls appear to have failed to completely envelop the nucleus. The cavity resulting is then filled to an even surface and is succeeded by fully developed skins. It is, therefore, not certain that a pearl, perfect in form and skin when found, has been so at all stages of its growth. Broken pearls sometimes show not only differences of color but of thickness in the successive layers. The skins of fresh-water pearls especially are often very irregular in thickness. Many pearls have cracks in them. These generally escape the observation of inexpert sons, as they are usually under the outer layer. The fact that they rarely extend to the surface suggests that the solidification, or drying out of the confined interior layers, may be the cause. These are considered detrimental and dangerous by dealers, so that pearls with cracks in them will not bring as high a price as they would if free from them. As cracked pearls are liable to break, especially when pierced for stringing, it is well to avoid them, though the percentage of those which do break is small. In reality these cracks are more of an imperfection than a danger. Occasionally they are quite noticeable and are then a bad imperfection, but frequently a sharp eye or the loup only will detect them. Surface cracks however are quite perceptible. They are dangerous and are considered a serious imperfection. There is a peculiarity of rare occurrence which, as it is a departure from the ideal, may be termed an imperfection, though some regard it of value as unique. It is a similarity under the surface of some pearls to a metal which has been hammered into small flat spots identical in appearance with the jewelry in vogue during the latter part of the 19th century made of “hammered gold.” It is scarcely noticeable except under a loup, when the fine lines dividing the confused planes appear. These pearls are usually slightly pink or pinkish yellow. Sometimes these planes resemble the facets on a cut diamond, generally lozenge shape, and often grouped similar to those on the under side of a diamond. Small holes and blisters on the surface are quite common, but ordinarily they are scarcely perceptible to the naked eye. Many faults can be concealed by the jeweller when the pearl is mounted. Slightly buttoned pearls are set on a peg in the centre of a small shallow cup; they then appear quite round. A spot, blister, or cavity, in a round pearl can be obliterated by pegging, or hidden in the setting. Great irregularities in the sphericity are lost to the eye when the gem is set in the prongs of a ring or other piece of jewelry. Pearls shaped like a double convex lens may be made to look round, or very nearly so, by piercing them so that the flattened domes are brought in contact on the cord holding them together as a necklace. Piercing and stringing obliterates or hides many flaws. By careful selection, the jeweller can utilize pearls having a blemish by drilling through the spot where the flaw is, and if there is another on the opposite side that also will disappear. Other imperfections near the hole are often hidden in necklaces, as they cannot be seen when the pearls are held close together on the string. It is for this reason that a string of pearls can often be bought for less than a like number of loose pearls apparently no better but which in reality are much more perfect in shape and free from flaws. Imperfections unseen in the strung pearls would be quite noticeable in the loose and undrilled. The irregularities of baroques cannot properly be called imperfections; nevertheless a baroque is more valuable as it is free from indentations and approaches the round in appearance, or has sides which will give it a round face when mounted. The curious forms into which nature moulds many of them are very attractive, and as they lend themselves to the imaginative skill of the jeweller, are valuable. The faults common to them are rough places uncovered by nacre and colored streaks or spots, usually yellow tending to brown. These discolorations are confined generally to the point where the baroque was attached to the shell, but not infrequently they extend far enough to leave no front which would be quite clean to the eye, when mounted. Oriental baroques as a rule are more lustrous, more even in shape and seldom discolored. Many of them are sufficiently regular to string for necklaces, and some can be used in jewelry so that on the face they appear like round, drop, or pear-shaped pearls.
GENESIS OF PEARLS
Pearls are found in certain marine and freshwater mollusks. The former are usually termed oysters, though zoologists regard it in some instances as a misnomer. The sea-fish is the avicula margaritifera, a bivalve of which there are many varieties, all of similar shape and nature but differing widely in the size, weight, coloring, and quality of the shell. Of them, the genus “meleagrina” is the largest, has the heaviest shell, and furnishes the greatest quantity of the beautiful substance known as mother-of-pearl. The other extreme is the small, frail-shelled variety taken off the coast of Venezuela, called sometimes avicula squamulosa. Similar to this is the margaritifera vulgaris, or avicula fucata, of Ceylon. The pearl oyster of the Persian Gulf though similar is somewhat larger. Exact and uniform classification of the pearl-bearing mollusks of the sea does not exist, nor is it necessary in this connection, as the one distinctive feature which places them in the class under consideration is the possession of a nacreous lining to the shell, for no shell fish can produce a true pearl without it. The fresh water pearl-bearing mollusk is a mussel, unio margaritifera, also found in many varieties, but all characterized alike by the nacreous lining of the shell. These creatures, living upon the earth where water always covers it, create in the building of their habitations a material of great beauty, and sometimes produce gems which princes covet. Of the most delicate nature, they build for themselves out of the water by which they are surrounded, houses strong and enduring, fitted for their protection from the rough chances of life, yet so furnished within that they suffer no inconvenience from the rugged strength which encloses them. Few things are coarser than the exterior of these domiciles, but nothing in nature is finer or more exquisitely beautiful than the substance with which they are lined. The avicula margaritifera is a habitant of the coral reefs and shoals about the islands and shores of the tropics; there are none living now in northern latitudes, though fossils of many species are found north of the present boundary of their habitations. An idea can be formed of the general shape and appearance of pearl-oyster shells by the neighboring illustrations of three varieties. These show the two extremes of the marine mollusk, the meleagrina of the South Sea and Australia, and the squamulosa of Venezuela. In some of the small species, that of the Venezuelan Coast for instance, the outer shell is yellowish, with fan-like markings of dark reddish brown radiating from the boss or beak and growing darker as they near the lip. This shell is thin and frail. The nacreous lining is also thin but brilliantly iridescent and shows a series of fine lines and irregular fissure-like markings extending outward from the hinge and crossed by bands of color which curve with the outline of the lip edge of the shell. These colors, as brilliant but more evasive than the hues of the rainbow, are not due to the presence of a pigment; they arise from a phenomenon of light and form one of the most wonderful illustrations of the case with which our senses play tricks upon judgment and understanding. It is the striated surface and the very thin transparent plates of nacre, which cause a double interference and produce the beautiful iridescence peculiar to the lining of these shells. “Interference,” as it is called, is an optical phenomenon arising from two causes. When light falls upon a sufficiently thin transparent surface covering a denser substratum not exactly parallel with it, part of the light is at once reflected. Of that which passes through to the under surface a part also is in turn reflected through the first surface, and the confusion of rays or interference resulting, produces to the eye the sensation of color. A familiar illustration is seen when a thin film of oil is spread over water. The other way in which iridescence by interference is produced in shells, may be demonstrated by drawing fine lines close together on glass with a diamond. Light falling upon them will make the surface iridescent. Melted wax dropped upon this striated surface would, upon removal, show a like iridescence, reproduced with the impression of the fine lines. The outer markings of the large Australian shell are similar to the small Venezuelan. The mother-of-pearl interior is not so iridescent. Pearls and the shells in which they grow are composed almost entirely of calcium carbonate or lime. A small percentage of organic matter and water are the other ingredients. As pearls are accidental and the result of a misdirection of normal processes, a general knowledge of those processes is necessary to an insight into the nature and genesis of the pearl, and as pearl shells and the pearls in them are constructed on the same general plan, a knowledge of the former will assist to a better understanding of the gem and its eccentricities. The mother-of-pearl shell is built up of a series of calcium carbonate plates or prisms set in organic matter. In the material of the inner shell, the calcium carbonate greatly preponderates; on the outside of the shell, the organic matter is largely in excess. In the building of its shell, the animal deposits the finest material and does the best and most compact work where the house is in touch with itself, the walls becoming coarser in construction and quality as they approach the outer surface. In the inside of the shell, the calcium carbonate plates are very fine and transparent, and the animal membrane in which they are set is of extreme tenuity. In the middle shell these plates become more chalky and less compact; in the exterior shell they are set in a thicker binding of organic matter and terminate outside in rough, horny fringes, completely covering the shell. In a general way therefore, the animal deposits the best of its secretions about itself and pushes out to the outer extremities, the coarser elements which are fitted to preserve the finer parts of the shell, as the finer parts of the shell are fitted to protect the delicate organism which they enclose. The building of the shell is done by a membraneous covering of the fish which entirely envelops the body and is attached to the shell a short distance from the inner edge, leaving a rim of membrane free around the fish and the edges of the two valves. This membrane is called the mantle. It extracts lime from the water, and at different parts exudes modified solutions of it mixed with animal tissue, suitable for the construction of the various parts of the shell. The exterior of the shell or epidermis consists of conchiolin, an organic compound. It is a horny-looking substance, and in the large saltwater shells and in most of the fresh-water mussels, the nigger-head of the Mississipi Valley especially, it appears to the eye as a series of extensions, sometimes terminating in ridges, which curve about the umbo and spread to the edge of the shell, each extension coming from under the one preceding. In some varieties it is attached as an excrescence to the prismatic formation immediately under it, and may be easily detached in thin flakes: a rusty black in some, brownish-yellow in all on the inner surface and in some on the outside. The substance is generally opaque, but contains spots of which some are translucent, resembling horn or amber, while others are more transparent, similar in formation to the inner parts of the shell. In most of the marine and fresh-water varieties, unlike the nigger-head, the conchiolin exterior does not easily flake off. In these the outer shell is composed of wave-like plate extensions, superimposed one upon the other recedingly from the lip to the umbo as in the others, but without the ridges, the plates being flat and the edges more irregular. These extensions are formed of a number of horizontal composite plates, which penetrate the shell to the mother-of-pearl. Not only may they be separated into thinner horizontal plates, but they divide vertically into prisms. Under the microscope the edge of a composite plate appears as a number of prisms placed side by side lengthwise across the plate edge, but showing dark, intersecting lines through the series where they divide as plates. These prisms appear on the face of the plates as translucent hexagons, separated by dark lines like a tessellated floor, and under a powerful microscope are seen to be composed of similar smaller particles, also joined together by a binder of tissue. The exposed parts of the epidermis plates, forming the outer skin of the shell, are more dense than the unexposed portions; the hexagonal dividing lines are thick and blurred, and the faces are almost opaque, whereas in the unexposed parts, the faces are translucent and the hexagonal markings are clear and fine. Though constructed in the same way throughout, these plates appear to follow the general plan of shell construction, the preponderance of calcium carbonate in the interior parts gradually changing to an excess of organic matter as they become exposed to form the outer part of the shell. The outer shell is in some varieties of a brownish-yellow with radiating fan-like markings of a deeper tint or red; in others, dark gray and brown to almost black. Immediately under the surface, the plates become lighter in color, and finally almost white as they approach the nacreous interior. In all varieties the outer plates lie almost parallel with the extension of the shell, so that, lapping each other as they do, the outer contour of the shell is raised by a series of low steps from the edge to the umbo. These plates appear to have been superimposed one upon the other. On the contrary, they are added on the under side. Starting from the umbo, which is the oldest part, the shell is enlarged by the addition of a succession of plates from beneath, each series extending a little beyond its predecessor, the rough conchiolin fringe at their extremities forming the outer covering of the shell. Following the growth of the epidermis, the shell and the lining are also extended and built up, so that the entire shell is constantly pushed to dimensions necessary for the proper and commodious housing of its growing tenant. Under the thin coat of epidermis on the Unio nigger-head, is a stratum of prism plates similar to the outer plates of the Venezuelan oyster. The prism faces are however smaller and the organic intersections are thicker and darker. Immediately under and abutting, is another series of plates which penetrate the shell almost horizontally at the lip end, to the lining; diagonally at the thick part of the shell near the umbo to another series of the same kind. Here, owing to their diagonal set, upon peeling off the epidermis and the epidermis plates, the edges appear as a series of fine lines curving about and spreading out from the umbo. The plates set outward, away from the umbo, from the lower or inner edge. The effect is similar to that made by a pack of cards set diagonally so as to spread the edges sufficiently to show the merest trifle of the faces of the cards between the edges. The arrangement of these plates, not only produces a series of fine lines curving about the umbo, but, as the edges are slightly irregular, another series of fine lines cross the others at right angles, radiating from the umbo. This doubly striated surface, by interference, produces an iridescence more full of color than the mother-of-pearl of any but the thin shelled varieties. Though similar in construction, these plates differ from those of the epidermis. In some respects they suggest a transitional stage between the outer and inner shell. A plate, as it separates from the series and which appears as one line in the striated surface of plate edges, is in reality a number of very thin plates, or waves, so welded together that they cannot easily be separated. In this and the presence of fine surface lines marking the wave edges, they resemble the nacreous plates. The composite plate is opaque, but when split so that light can penetrate there appears on the face, markings similar to the unexposed portions of the Venezuelan epidermis plates only the hexagonal faces are very much smaller and less distinct. So also the edge of the composite plate appears as series of prisms crossing it from face to face on the plate, in sets which show plainly, lines marking the juncture of the individual plates or waves. Although the individual plates or waves, can only be separated with great difficulty, together, as composite plates, they can be flaked off from the shell very easily, and they crumble and break into fragments under slight pressure. The component plates or waves are very thin, and appear under the microscope as white and translucent planes marked by outlines of the prism faces. The inner series of these plates as they near the nacreous lining become harder and more compact, and incline more and more to a horizontal position, so that at the point where they abut upon the nacre it is not easy to distinguish them from the nacreous plates. At the thinner end of the shell, about the edges, the plates are all of this nature. They grow more friable and chalky as they incline to the perpendicular, where the series are more numerous and are situated at the thicker part of the shell about the umbo. Adjoining the inner edges of the middle shell plates is the nacreous lining. In this the calcium carbonate takes the same form as the mineral aragonite and is identical with it. As a mass however, the specific gravity is somewhat less, owing to the inclusion of organic matter with the mineral in the shell. This material is harder, finer, more compact, and contains less organic matter than that of which the middle and outer shell is composed. The lining is constructed of thin waves of transparent calcium carbonate set in animal tissue of great tenuity. This is the mother-of-pearl, and the gem differs from it only in its more or less rounded and independent formation. The plates of which the lining is composed lie almost parallel to the plates of the epidermis. They are bent a little toward the interior at the inner surface of the shell, but the general sectional structure of a shell, cutting from the umbo to the lip, is fairly represented by that stem of the letter X which extends from the right upper to the left lower, the diagonal line representing the middle shell; the horizontal lines at the extremities show the general trend of the epidermis and the nacreous lining. The diagonal trend downward is from the epidermis toward the boss-end of the shell. The nacreous plates, or mother-of-pearl, unlike those of the middle shell of the nigger-head, cannot be easily separated. On cutting them across the grain they appear as distinct and separate strata and show dividing lines, yet the mass is compact to a great degree. Upon being broken, these strata separate only at the edges, so that the entire set usually breaks diagonally, showing a small strip of the surface of each plate along the broken edge and forming a series of ragged edge steps. These plates or strata are composed of a great many very thin waves following one upon the other, and thereby producing series of fine, irregular lines upon the surface which, though trending generally in straight lines, curve and twist about as do the edges of water waves, when they run up on the sands of the sea-shore. It is the lapping of these thin transparent waves, and the minute undulations of the layer edges reflecting through the transparent plates, which produce the soft luster peculiar to the linings of the shells and the surface of pearls, and which is known as “pearly.” The wave edges do not usually produce iridescence, but if the waves are very thin and transparent the undulating lines of many under waves following close upon each other appear on the surface, under the microscope, as dark lines when the light is passed through the skin, or silvery lines if the light be thrown upon it trom above; to the naked eye this becomes the tempered brilliancy of the pearl’s orient. Under the microscope these waves appear to be constructed of minute hexagonal plates or prisms set in animal membrane. A set of waves forming a plate, when broken at right angles to the trend of the wave, shows under the microscope a rough irregular edge, and the small plates of which they are composed sometimes appear separated individually from the mass though more often they are dislodged in clusters or strips. Broken with the trend of the wave edges, the plate breaks diagonally in steps with undulating edges, which correspond in appearance with the successive underlying waves as they are seen through the surface under the microscope. Although distinct dividing lines between the plates appear when a sectional cut is made across the grain, there is no indication of a division between the waves which make up the plates, and there is no apparent difference in the structure or compactness at the junction of the plates though a clean division can only be made there. It would appear, therefore, that the plates mark intervals in the process of construction and that the animal tissue is somewhat thicker between the plates than between the waves of which they are composed, where the formative process has been continuous. In all parts of the shell, the calcium carbonate takes the hexagonal form: in the nacre, as thin waves composed of hexagonal faces, and in the middle shell and epidermis, as plates of hexagonal particles grouped as hexagonal prisms whose terminations form the front and back of a plate. All the parts show a similar plan of construction, i.e., separable plates composed of thinner plates more compacted together, and these in turn of infinitesimal hexagons of calcium carbonate; full plates, component plates, and particles, all alike surrounded by animal tissue. The shell is built up of secretions from the water in which the oyster lives, made by the mantle, a membraneous covering of the fish. The function of this mantle, in part, is to obtain from the water the elements required and exude it at different parts of its folds in the various forms required for the several parts of the shell. The necessary lime exists in the surrounding water and is supplied sometimes by the calcareous beds upon which the oysters grow, and in other cases by surrounding vegetation. In all mother-of-pearl oysters and the freshwater mussel unio, the lining is usually quite thick, but in some pearl-bearing species having small, frail shells, it is, though beautiful, too thin to be of use. In the meleagrina, this nacreous lining lies in the interior of the shell like a congealed pearl wave, the smooth even rim following the curve of the shell about an inch to an inch and a half within the jagged edge of the epidermis, as shown in the Manilla shell illustrated herewith, in which the lip, usually trimmed off for commercial purposes, is preserved. The lining of the meleagrina is not as iridescent as that of the thin shell varieties. Thus the shell is being constantly enlarged at the edge, by a deposit of the exudations of the mantle; conchiolin for the epidermis outside, lime for the prisms and inner layers of transparent plates, until the shell has attained its full growth in size, after which some varieties continue to lay on nacre only. The linings of some have a black rim, extending from the hinge on one side, around the edge to the hinge on the other side. Viewed from the edge this dark band appears to be a sixteenth to half an inch wide (widest at the lip), fading out as it becomes lost under the thicker white nacre of the interior, but turn the shell up and look at it squarely from the front and it is black only around the extreme edge where it joins the epidermis. This kind of shell is found in the Pacific about the islands of Polynesia and is called the black shell. In others the nacre is white to the edge. The iridescence of the white shell generally shows more play of color than that of the black. The white shell is usually somewhat flatter and broader than the black, and the epidermis is light yellowish-brown. This variety is found in great abundance on the northern and western coasts of Australia. The yellow, greenish and grayish shells (these colors refer to the edge of the lining), are similar in every way, but inferior, the yellow being the best of the three. The shell lining of a common form of the unio, or fresh water mussel pictured at page 146, like that of the meleagrina, shows little iridescence except at the edges outside the pallial lines, where the nacre is comparatively thin, and at the striated surface of the scar or bed of the adductor muscle. In quality of color and luster it is inferior to the nacre of the sea fish, the white being more chalky in appearance and the luster less pearly. The material of which the shell is composed and its construction are however almost identical with that of the saltwater mollusk. In fact all shells are made of the same ingredients and are constructed on the same general principles by the animals inhabiting them. This description of pearl shells has been given here because a knowledge of the shell enables one to understand the formation and characteristics of a true pearl, and the differences which exist between the gem and other similar formations formed in pearl and other oysters, mussels, and univalves. Many such formations are found, having the elements and constructed like one or both of the outer parts of the shell, and some, in part like the lining, but these are not true pearls; the gem has neither the material nor construction of the middle and outer shell. Except that the pearl, because of its form, is rarely iridescent even to a slight degree, whereas the nacreous lining of some pearl-bearing shells is brilliantly so, the pearl and the nacre of the shell in which it grows, are essentially the same. Pearls are more or less spherical and independent formations, made by the fish on the same plan and from the same secretions with which it lines the shell, misdirected by abnormal conditions. Those constructed like any other part of the shell are not true pearls. The normal instinctive action of the mollusk is self-protective and adaptive. By the secretive action of its mantle it gathers from the water in which it lives, material to build a shell with a rough and rugged exterior for its enemies, and adapted to resist the chemical activities by which it is surrounded, and a perfectly smooth lining suitable as an interposition for its own delicate organism. Barring accidents, the building functions of the animal are employed only in the extension of the shell to meet the needs of its own growth and protection. But should a particle of secretion intended for the shell, harden within the folds of the oyster’s mantle, or some parasite or other intruder present itself within the nacre-forming sphere, the instinctive action which lines the rougher part of the shell is also directed toward the foreigner, and it is at once covered with a like deposit. This is the birth of a pearl, and it grows layer by layer as long as it remains within the scope of the nacre building instinct. These layers, or skins as they are called, are seldom iridescent. Occasionally a pearl of that character is found, but it is generally from a fresh water mussel, and the nacreous plates are of unusual tenuity. Although the pearl like the lining of the mollusk’s shell is composed of carbonate of lime in series of thin waves lapping each other, each series constituting a plate or separable layer, there is a distinct difference in construction. Whereas the lining is a series of horizontal layers, the pearl is made up of concentric layers, each addition enveloping those preceding it. These skins however are not always absolutely distinct and separate. Instead of being like a succession of globular skins, each completely covered by its successor, the growth is often spiral and the construction is as if the nucleus had been rolled one, two, or three complete revolutions in a continuous plate of nacre, and the spiral envelope then finally merged into another plate and the process repeated. That which to a casual glance, therefore, appears to be six rings of nacre in a sectional cut, is in reality, several spirals of two or three turns each. It is also noticeable that whereas the wave edges, with all their eccentricities, trend generally in one direction in the shell nacre, in the pearl, the lines twist and curl with a concentric tendency, as though the waves had been laid on by turning or rolling the pearl in the material of which it is composed. A white pearl on being cut in half shows a number of faint dark rings one within the other, from the surface to the nucleus in the centre; usually these rings occur at almost regular intervals. Upon close examination under the microscope, it will be seen that the inner part of these intervals is white, and that the color gradually changes to a yellowish tint which deepens until it culminates in that which appears as a dark line against the succeeding outer formation, the material of which is also white in the beginning. Although this change of color is very slight, a section between two rings will often show three distinct bands; the inner white, the centre one faintly yellow and the outer one of a deeper tint. In some cases the dark concentric rings succeed each other very closely, in which case no abrupt changes of color between them are noticeable. The material occupying the space between the rings is the sectional appearance of the skin of pearl. Upon applying a weak acid to the surface of an entire section of a pearl, it effervesces, and the inner colorless parts of the bands are at once attacked. After several hours the white inner part of the skins will show depressions where the calcium carbonate has been dissolved, and the outer parts of the skins will be marked by coarse black rings of undissolved animal tissue, similar in appearance to the epidermis of the shell. Now as these skins are made up of many very thin waves of calcium carbonate lapping each other and set in animal tissue, it would appear, therefore, that in the beginning these waves of transparent calcium carbonate are set in animal tissue of extreme tenuity and that the proportion of animal tissue increases with the growth of the skin until it reaches a stage provocative of a new skin, which begins with purer layers of the smoother crystallized mineral like its predecessor, and identical with the nacre of the shell. If this be so, it would account for the various tints of color and degrees of luster in white pearls and for the fact that the outer skins of very lustrous pearls are usually very thin also. Similar conditions exist in colored pearls, though the presence of a pig ment makes them less noticeable. The skins of the haliotis pearl, which separate easily, usually show remarkable luster on the inner surface. Sometimes the nucleus is surrounded by a confused mass without apparent concentric markings, as though it had been enveloped in nacre which had solidified while stationary, or the first deposit shows the concentric skin arrangement at one segment of the circle only; followed by layers which appear in the depressions of the mass and are continued until they finally include the whole pearl. These layers are usually very thin, and the partial or segmentary layer formation is quite common in the early stages of the pearl’s growth. At that period the concentric lines are also irregular, and in many cases where the curve is true, they extend about one quarter of the circumference only, another concentric skin being lapped on the ends, as though the globular skin had been formed in sections. As before stated, it often happens that the skin division lines are spiral, as though the nucleus had been rolled one way in the nacreous material. In all cases the first deposits of a skin, that is the first of the nacreous waves of which a skin is composed, appear to be most transparent and lustrous. The component waves of nacre then gradually become more impregnated with animal tissue until they apparently reach a stage which induces either a rest on the part of the fish, to gather nacreous material, or a new deposit of less impure nacre, to protect itself from the increasing impurity of the pearl’s skin. The skins undoubtedly mark certain stage in the formation of the pearl, though the skin and the nacreous waves of which it is composed are often confounded. In the skinning of pearls an entire skin is seldom peeled off. The surface is scraped, a number of the component waves being taken off, until the luster is improved and it is then supposed that the entire outer skin has been removed. A close examination however, will show, by breakages in the surface of the waves, that the under skin with its peculiar and systematic arrangement of surface wave edges, has not been reached. A sectional view as seen in a half pearl would lead one to infer that a free pearl in the beginning lies stationary in the oyster; is turned or partially rolled as it grows larger; and finally, on attaining about a one grain size, is kept in constant motion with a concentric rolling in the nacreous exudations of the mantle which are deposited upon it. The nuclei of pearls were long thought to be grains of sand, but late and careful research has shown that in the majority of cases they are minute parasitic or domiciliary worms. Professor Herdman and James Hornell, after three consecutive inspections of the oyster banks in the Gulf of Manaar in 1902-3, stated in a paper contributed to the British Association for the advancement of science, that after examining many hundreds of oysters and decalcifying a large number of pearls, they had come to the conclusion, that grains of sand and other inorganic particles formed the nuclei of pearls only under exceptional circumstances, as for instance, when the shell was injured by the breaking of the ears, which would enable sand to get into the interior. Pearls, or pearly excrescences on the interior of the shell, were due to the intrusion of leucodore, clione and other borers. Pearls found in the mussels, especially at the levator and pallial insertions, were formed around calcospherules, minute calcareous concretions produced in the tissues. But most of the fine pearls found free in the body of the Ceylon oyster, contained the remains of platyhelminthian parasites. These observations agree with the opinions formed, after careful study, by several eminent conchologists. The action of the mollusk results differently as the object to be covered is free within the folds of the creature’s mantle or, rising above the surface of the nacreous lining, presses upon it. If free, the intruder is enveloped by the animal’s exudations and the deposits become concentric instead of level, or nearly so, as in the construction of the shell. It is said that the foreign substance acts as an irritant, causing the fish to exude its secretions abnormally in order to protect itself, and thereby creating a diseased condition; but from the fact that the process continues after the intruder has been enveloped and rendered as non-irritant as the natural lining of the shell, it would appear that the introduction of a foreign element simply draws upon it the normal impulse of the fish to cover with nacre anything with which it comes in contact, and that the method of doing it is similar to the instinctive rolling action of the tongue when some insoluble globule is put in the mouth, for not only do free pearls grow spherically, but a nucleus fast to the shell is not covered simply but it grows to a pearl, round and domelike, as nearly spherical as its juncture with the shell will permit. Not only is the composition of a pearl identical with the lining of the shell where it is formed, but in a general way its appearance and characteristics are the same, except that free pearls are sometimes colored when the nacre of the shell is white. Button pearls, warts and baroques, grown fast to the shell, are usually like the surrounding nacre in every respect. Salt-water pearls are characterized by the soft velvety luster of the oriental mother-of pearl, and fresh-waters, like the lining of the unio, have a somewhat thinner looking and more chalky texture. Abalone pearls have the irregular surface and coloring of the haliotis. Conch pearls resemble the delicate pink china-like lining of the shell, and clam pearls have the glazed earthenware appearance of the inside of a clam shell. The one material difference between a pearl and the lining of the shell in which it grows is, that in the one case the fish deposits the nacre over an even surface, and in the other wraps it around a central point with delicate precision in successive filmy layer Dissection shows that a pearl during growth is liable to many mishaps. As with the human creature, a promising youth may end in a wretched maturity. It is also possible that an ugly period may be redeemed by later happenings, and the thing that was worthless in its early existence, be found in its age worthy of a place among the great gems. Pearls found with a dull, chalky exterior sometimes have lustrous skins beneath. Sometimes a bony-looking formation will be found, on breaking it, to have a variety of skins in the interior, some of which are very lustrous, others white and chalky, like the middle shell of the mollusk. Many of these dead pearls are formed throughout of this material. Others, perfectly spherical, are simply successive layers of prism groups like the conchiolin plates of the shell. Upon cutting these through the centre the skins are shown by the concentric rings marking their divisions and the prismatic formation appears as glistening lines radiating from the nucleus to the surface. Under the microscope these layers, which are thicker than the nacreous skins of true pearls, appear identical with the epidermis plates, except that tliey are concentric instead of flat, and are free from the coarse. rough, conchiolin deposit which forms the extreme outer coating of the shells. This deposit is also found, however, in some pearl formations, as many of the abalone baroques, especially when they are somewhat flat in shape, are like two pearl blisters joined, with the shell-building process reversed, the rough, black conchiolin being inside, and the nacre outside. Undoubtedly pearls containing hidden qualities which made them once gems are thrown away as valueless, while others found just as nature had covered their earlier coarseness with a coat of beauty, are worn and excite much admiration for their skin-deep beauty. Though the successive skins of a pearl do not usually vary much in color, except in abalone pearls, it does happen occasionally, for the removal of dark yellow skins sometimes discloses another of better color—a good pink for instance. From the sectional appearance of pearls it seems probable, that in the majority of cases the color of yellow pearls would be improved by the removal of the outer waves of the outer skin. Changes in shape sometimes occur during the growth of the pearl, the tendency being always toward the rounding of the surface. If the nucleus is fast to the shell, a dome is built over and around it. If the nucleus permits, the nacre is deposited not only over but under its edges to the point of contact with the shell, so that a button pearl connected with the shell at the centre only, results. Two pearls held against the shell and growing side by side are separately enveloped until they touch each other, after which they are included in single deposits of nacre and the depression between their domes becomes less distinct with each successive coating. Similarly, a cluster of small pearls lying together often forms the nucleus of a large rounded baroque or button pearl. Examination of such formations shows, that up to a certain period the pearls have a separate existence and growth. They then become joined in an irregular mass of twinned pearls, and finally, if allowed to remain in the oyster long enough, all individuality is lost in the tendency to round over. The same thing occurs when grains of sand or other intrusions become attached to a growing pearl. They are quite prominent when first included in the nacreous deposit and can be easily detached from the under pearl by breaking through the layer which binds them on; but they are soon obliterated by succeeding deposits. This filling-in process is sometimes accomplished by additional layers in the depression, sometimes by thicker layers. It happens occasionally, when skinning a round pearl, that one of these fillings is uncovered and flakes out, leaving the pearl irregular, as it was in a former stage of its growth. Although pearls naturally grow spherically, many free pearls are more or less buttoned, that is, have a flat place from which the pearl rises like a dome, high or low. This happens when the pearl is held during growth by the fish gainst the shell with a part of its body intervening. According to circumstances, the pearl varies in form from slightly button, to a low dome, rising from a plane at its greatest diameter. Should a pearl of this description become dislodged, the rounding action of the mollusk would begin at once to obliterate the plane. If undisturbed, the process would result eventually in changing the button to a round or nearly round pearl, but should the pearl be taken from the fish before the metamorphosis is completed, a depression, or pit, would mar its contour. When borers intrude through the shell, the presentation is at once covered with nacre, and successive deposits are built up around it resulting in the nacreous wart known as a baroque. The rounding action of the mollusk is clearly shown in these excrescences, as the borer is not simply covered and levelled with the shell, but the slight elevation above the level of the lining receives a continuity of concentric deposits which finally raise it very considerably above the surface and separate it in construction from the lining to which it is attached. The shell herewith reproduced illustrates the result. Borers pierced it at the thick part of the hinge, and burrowing down, entered the interior at the point where the baroque is shown. In rare instances, pearls attached to the shell do escape the concentric deposition, for they have been found buried under even layers of nacre, when the mother-of-pearl was cut up in the process of manufacture. From the appearance of the striæ when they are divided lengthwise, pear-shaped pearls appear to have been spherical at one time. During a stage in the growth, the forming layer has curved away from the centre at onc section of the sphere to a point. Succeeding layers, following the innovation, are deposited around the extension until it becomes sufficiently elongated to give the pearl the obovoid form. Many pearls are shaped like a capsule. The ends of most are rounded up to a full dome; some have somewhat flatter ends; many are long and cylindrical like an ordinary capsule; others are short and appear in shape like two high button pearls joined at their bases; while some resemble a cartridge, one end being almost flat and the other a somewhat pointed dome. It is noticeable that such pearls have a chalky line around the middle, and sometimes there is a lustrous band between two. These chalky lines are found, on peeling such a pearl, to extend through all the interior layers. Similarly, a high button joined at its entire circumference to the shell, if the junction is abrupt, has an intersecting chalky line, marking the juncture of the two, between the luster of the pearl and the shell lining. If the base of the pearl and the shell form a curve there is no chalky line of demarcation. This suggests that whenever the animal is unable to envelop the thing upon which the mantle deposits its secretions completely or is not in touch with every part of it, there is at the extremity of its action, an unnacreous deposit, corresponding to the deposit of conchiolin or calcite, at the extreme edge of the shell which precedes the nacreous layers following within and slightly back of it. As the luster of the pearl arises from the transparency of the calcium carbonate modified by the undulating lines formed by the edges of the wave-plates, it may be that the lapping action of the mantle is necessary for the regular formation and crystallization of these plates, and that at points beyond the reach of this action, the depositions of the mantle are therefore not pearly. Much is necessarily conjectural as to the modus operandi by which the shell and the pearl are formed but the invariable tendency toward sphericity suggests that the nucleus of a pearl, when free within the mollusk’s mantle, is not only enveloped in its exudations, but is either kept constantly moving with a rolling motion or lapped on all sides by the membrane which exudes upon it the nacreous material. The instances cited of the short capsule shaped pearl and the high button joined to the shell, which seem to escape the nacreous deposit at the basis of the domes, favor the lapping or licking method of depositing the nacreous solution and this action by the mollusk would result in a constant rolling or turning motion imparted to the object if it were free within the creature’s body. The licking and rolling action of the mollusk, modified by the conceivable influences of position in the shell, would account for the spherical form with all the various modifications in which the pearl is found. To account for the variation of quality which undoubtedly exists in the successive skins of some pearls, and the imperfections in the nacre of the same skin, the theory has been advanced that the secretions for the lining, the shell proper, and the epidermis, are exuded by different parts of the mantle; the pearl traverses during growth these different bands and its skins are modified by the secretions, as they come within the various zones of influence. But there are several facts which seem to oppose the theory. In the first place all these parts of the mantle which supply the material for the epidermis, the middle shell, and the lining, are enclosed within the shell and in touch with the lining yet each receives the exudations of that part of the mantle which supplies the material suitable for it, the mantle invariably pushing the coarser excretions outwardly to the shell’s exterior. Again, whatever the quality of the skin of the pearl may be, it is never of conchiolin like the outer epidermis and though sometimes similar to the plates, of which the conchiolin is the exposed fringe, it always contains sufficient nacre to render the surface smooth. The fact that the skins of a pearl do sometimes correspond with the different parts of the shell, and that the same skin on the surface is occasionally partly naereous and unnacreous, in connection with the variation of quality which exists in the internal composition of the skin, favors an idea that the mixed and variable quantity of nacre in the skins may be caused by the abnormal position of the mantle wrapped about the growing pearl which would thereby come more or less under the influence of the calcite and conchiolin zones distorted from their normal extension and action. It has also been suggested that the oyster deposits the nacreous layer in a fluid state and then rests until the deposit hardens, when the process is repeated. To a certain extent this may be true though apparently it could not be a yearly process as pearls found in the small varieties of the avicula which mature in four to six years and die out in seven years, often contain a greater number of layers than the years of the mollusk’s life, and no pearl is ever found with a soft exterior, though it seems possible that pearls with a dead white chalky exterior are taken from the oyster at a period when the crystallization of the outer skin has not been perfected, or that they have escaped some action, chemical or of the animal, necessary for the formation of the lustrous waves of nacre. Mr. Ludwig Stross, who has had much experience at the pearl fisheries, says that he has frequently found pearls of fair size in shells of the Lingah type which could not be over twelve to fifteen months old. Some of these pearls weighed fully three grains. As there are many apparent skins in a pearl of that size, the divisions could not mark either years, seasons, or breeding periods. In some experiments made by Mr. Stross, he found that borings made to the interior of a living mollusk’s shell were closed by a film of hard nacre in two days. The known facts about a pearl are these. It is composed of about ninety-two per cent. carbonate of lime, about six per cent. organic matter and a little over two per cent. water in combination almost identical with the lining of the shell in which it grows and similar to the mineral aragonite. In construction it is usually a series of layers, which can sometimes be peeled off entirely, each one successively enveloping its predecessors apparently as an independent structure though itself composed of a number of thin lapping waves. Upon cutting through these layers the divisions appear as a series of rings and the intervals, though composed of many thin waves, appear compact. It grows spherically or with such modifications as the exigencies of position in the shell would reasonably account for. These facts seem to justify the hypothesis that a foreign substance upon entering the shell of a pearl oyster is at once enveloped or washed in the creature’s exudations; that the organic matter of the secretions forms a filmy envelope in which the mineral contained in them is precipitated or crystallizes in wave-like layers of crystals of great tenuity, and that as these layers harden the process is repeated, and that during the process the creature either revolves the object, or about it, as it is free, or fastened to the shell. It is also possible that changes in the organic matter interwoven with the calcium carbonate may produce some chemical action resulting in the crystallization of the lime, and the crystallization in turn be provocative of another deposit, each process in turn being almost simultaneous and that the process is continued until a paucity of mineral in the exudations induces a rest for recuperation, after which the process is repeated, the result being a succession of composite skins as we find them. Whatever the cause, it is evident in all parts of the shell and in the pearl that continuity of construction is periodically arrested to be resumed upon exactly the same plan, except that the material used in the succeeding layer of the pearl may be formed occasionally like another of the shell sections though usually it is like the preceding one. Marked differences in the same skin occur more frequently in the pearl formations of univalves. The skins of the abalone pearl especially, are frequently nacreous in part only. Pearl oysters are found in immense numbers on banks having a calcareous foundation. They are extraordinarily prolific, the spat of one oyster being estimated at upwards of several hundred thousands to millions, so that were it not for the natural enemies of their young and the liability of being swept away and scattered by storms before they have anchored, the banks would be overcrowded with the myriads produced. Some idea of the numbers may be gained from the fact that during the fishing season the Ceylon divers raise about one million each day. The oysters are seldom found in water with a temperature below 75 degrees and they seem to thrive best in warm sheltered bays and inlets. especially when the banks are situated far from the equator. They attach themselves to the beds by a bunch of tough threads which pass out through an aperture in the shells, near the hinge, and fasten on the rocks and stones; consequently the oysters do not lie flat, as might be supposed, but maintain an upright position, hinge down, lip end up, and the shell slightly open for the passage of the food-laden water, as the fresh-water mussels do. These threads are called the beard or byssus, and are composed of material similar to the epidermis of the shell. The abalone, which is a univalve, holds on to the rocks by the foot, a flat muscular appendage used for locomotion and also as an anchor on the principle of the leather toy known to boys as a sucker. Although pearls of value are found only in shells containing mother-of-pearl, a small proportion only of the mother-of-pearl shells contains pearls, and many varieties in which pearls are found do not yield enough nacre to make the shells valuable. The size of the meleagrina in some seas is remarkable. That at page 127, photographed from a Tuamotu shell, measures 8g inches by 87/8 inches and weighs twenty-eight ounces troy. It is of the black-edge variety, contains a large quantity of fine quality mother-of-pearl, and has a beautiful small pearl attached to the lining near the center of the shell. Though large, it is not full grown. It is probably twelve to fourteen years old and would continue to lay on mother-of-pearl and so grow thicker and heavier until sixteen to eighteen years of age, when the oyster would reach maturity. The Australian white shell at page 129 is a young shell—that is, it has not attained the full thickness and weight of a mature shell. The shells at pages 131 and 161 are from the coast of Venezuela; they measure 21/4 by 21/4 inches and weigh seven pennyweights each. The common form of the pearl-bearing freshwater mussel unio (nigger-head) is illustrated at page 146. This shell measures 33/4 by 23/4 inches and weighs 31/2 ounces. It is from the Middle West of the United States. In construction it resembles the meleagrina, the epidermis being dark, though not as rough as that of the oyster, and the lining white, showing slight iridescence around the lip-edge and to a greater degree on the adductor muscle scar. The mother-of-pearl under the epidermis at the thick or hinge end is quite iridescent, and the lines which make the color play are plainly discernible under the loup. The la gest and finest pearls, also the greatest number, are found usually in distorted shells, This has given rise to the idea that they are a symptom of disease in the fish, but having in mind the functions of the three zones of the creature’s mantle by which they supply separately material for the epidermis, middle shell and lining, one may conceive that if, by some extraordinary cause, the secretions of one of these is largely withdrawn from the natural channel, the losing part of the shell would warp the normal growth of the others to its own dwarfage. When the nacre grows to a pearl, contrary to the intent of nature, instead of a lining for the shell endeavoring to keep pace with the growing oyster, the full-growing exterior is distorted in accommodating itself to the undersized lining. In view of the fact that an oyster sometimes contains a large number of pearls (one shell in New Caledonia contained 256) the diversion of nacre sufficient to cover them, or to produce one large pearl, might reasonably be expected to result in a considerable distortion of the shell. It may also be that the displacement of the mantle, caused by the wrapping of itself about the growing pearl, interferes with the even deposit of shell material about the edge of the shell and so distorts it. Because deformed shells are more fruitful of pearls some have advocated the practice of throwing perfectly-formed shells back into the sea unopened, but, inasmuch as the mother-of-pearl of the shells often exceeds in value the pearls found in them, this is not likely to happen. Few fisheries could be made to pay if they were fished for the pearls alone. In many of them the shells yield 9o per cent, of the total value and are in fact the sole incentive for the investment of the necessary capital. Luckily for the world’s supply of pearls, however, the disturbers of the mollusk which cause these gems by their intrusions appear to be more abundant in waters where the shell is valueless, the banks about Ceylon especially being infested with the cestodes which are commonly the nuclei of Indian pearls. It is interesting also to learn that Mr. James Hornell (inspector of the pearl banks) finds these worms in another stage in the file-fish, which frequents the banks to prey upon the oysters, and confidently expects to find them in the adult stage in the shark, which in turn devours the file-fish. It is the opinion of Jameson of London and others, that the parasite which causes the formation of pearls in the mussels of Europe is frequently the larva of distomum somateroe, from the eider-duck and scoter, and that the larva first inhabits Tapes, or the cockle, before getting into the mussel. Generally the nuclei appear to be the bodies or eggs of minute parasites—distoma, filaria, bucephalus, etc., and they vary in different localities according to the animal life of the neighborhood. In the still parts of the river Elster, where water-mites (Limnochares anodontœ) were abundant, Kuchenmeister found that the mollusks contained more pearls.
METHODS OF FISHING
The beds of the marine shell-fish from which pearls are taken lie always under water. Unlike others which are sometimes left exposed by the tides, to be gathered by man without difficulty, the pearl oyster is never left uncovered by the sea. It is found usually on shoals some distance from shore, sometimes but five to seven feet from the surface; more frequently fifteen to forty feet deep, and often one hundred to one hundred and twenty-five and even one hundred and fifty feet deep. Everywhere, then, man’s quest for pearls is confronted by the heaving, restless waters of the sea, for the greater part of the year rough and turbulent, frequently lashed to furious racing by tropic tempests but through which he must in any case go to get them. In a few places where the beds lie in shallow inlets and sheltered bays they can be dredged, but almost universally the oysters are gathered by divers. During the greater part of the year, when storms rage, diving is very dangerous if not quite impossible; but when the song of the sea is hushed to low crooning, and the gentle roll of the waves does no more than playfully slap the boats in passing, then in the seas where men dive for pearls they gather to the harvest of gems. There are two ways of diving—naked, and with dress. The former is the common method throughout the Orient and is practised to-day after the same manner that it was in the days of the Pharaohs and the Cæsars, for the primitive method survives with few variations wherever easter people control the fisheries. In the fishing season one sees now in the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf and about Ceylon, the same scenes as they were enacted there before Rome was a city, or France a nation, or the Macedonians overran Egypt. Naked divers, diving into fifteen to forty feet of water, use few aids. They grease their bodies, put greased cotton in the ears and a forked stick, or tortoise-shell clip, upon the nostrils to compress them, hang a wide-mouthed wicker basket or net at the waist, and they are ready. There are several methods of naked diving: head-first from a spring-board attached to the side of the boat, as the Malabar coast Hindus and some of the Egyptians do; swimming to the bottom, as practised in the deep waters of the South Sea, and dropping to the oyster bed with a stone. The latter is the most common way in Indian, Egyptian, and Arabian waters, especially where the banks lie in forty to fifty feet of water. Standing on the spring-board a few seconds to fill his lungs, the head-first diver suddenly plunges overboard and passes smoothly and rapidly through the water straight to the shoal below. Gathering quickly as many oysters as possible while his breath lasts, he places them in the net at his waist, attaches them to a convenient rope hanging from the boat’s side and shoots to the surface. There he recuperates by lazily floating about if the water is shallow, if deeper, by climbing back into the boat for his next plunge. If diving in pairs, one rests while his partner dives. Expert divers who dive singly have an attendant, a manduck, who attends to the lines and looks out for his interests generally. The manduck drops a line with the oyster basket overboard and attaches to it another weighted with a forty to fifty pound stone. These are so fastened that they can be quickly released. The diver then drops into the water feet first and placing his foot in a loop in the line over the stone puts the basket on it, and releasing the lines, sinks to the bottom. Disengaging himself, he proceeds to fill his basket while the attendant pulls up the stone and adjusts it for the next descent. When ready to return he signals his attendant, and holding on to the line with the basket is drawn to the surface, occasionally accelerating his own return by climbing the rope hand over hand at the same time. He rests in the water by the boat’s side until ready to dive again, making seven or eight descents before climbing into the boat for a longer rest and sun-bath. The divers of India, Arabia and the Red Sea are natives of the Madras Presidency, descendants of Arab fishers at Jaffna in Ceylon, Arabs, and Egyptian Negroes. They travel long distances to the fisheries and there are many of them between the Red Sea and Ceylon. At the last fishing in the Gulf of Manaar there were about forty-five hundred. Their dress during the time of the fishing consists of a loin cloth only. They have many hereditary and class superstitions, chief of which is their faith in shark-charmers. While waiting for the fishing to begin they also seek to get from the fates an inkling of the luck which will attend them. One common method is by breaking a cocoanut on the diving stone; the more clean and even the break, the better the luck. The mortality among divers at the fisheries is not great in Asiatic waters. Pneumonia is the greatest scourge, fatalities in diving being few. It is necessary however to select robust men for depths beyond forty feet; comparatively few can work without injurious effects below that. Some curious mixtures of ancient days and present times, of the Pharaohs and infant industries, are seen. One may see a black slave diver in the Red Sea hanging over the edge of his boat taking observations through an old tin kerosene can with a bit of glass in one end of it. This he sinks a little way in the water and gazes through it below. Presently the can is discarded, over he goes and returns shortly with a few shells; while near by a clumsy monster emerges and a diver in dress climbs into his boat. This use of modern tin cans and glass is adopted in seas where the shells are scattered and is common to pearl-divers the world over. The Moros have a method of fishing in very calm weather peculiar to themselves. They drop a three-prong catcher attached to a rattan rope upon the oyster bunches and so haul them up to the boat. This can only be done when the sea is perfectly still, as even a ripple would render a sight of the oysters impossible. Ordinarily they dive to any depth down to twenty fathoms. Many attempts have been made to introduce dress-diving among the natives of the east but so far few have been successful. Results from experiments have not compared favorably with naked diving and so, with few exceptions, naked diving is still the rule in the east where natives control the fishings. But of all, the Polynesians, both male and female, adhere most closely to the old way. Most of them will not even use a stone to assist the descent, and they probably reach greater depths than the naked divers of any other sea. Travellers report that, at a coral atoll in the Southern Pacific owned by the French government and known as Hikuereu, where the natives of Tahiti and other islands flock during the season to fish for pearls, the boys and girls and women are almost as expert as the men. Whole families congregate here, remaining during the season housed in huts framed of light cocoanut palms roofed with leaves. These they bring with them, some coming several hundred miles. The shells are mostly in sixty to seventy feet of water; some however are brought from a depth of one hundred feet. It is reported that a boy, on an exhibition dive, remained under water for two minutes and forty seconds, going to a depth of a little over one hundred feet. He was in sight all the time, the water being so transparent that he could be seen on the bottom, leisurely selecting pieces of coral for the officers of the ship above. These divers hang in the water by one hand grasping the gunwale of the boat while they examine the bottom for oysters through a glass which they hold below the surface in the other hand. When shells are sighted the glass is discarded, the lungs are filled several times and the air expelled slowly. Upon reaching a certain fit condition a long breath is taken until the lungs are inflated to their utmost capacity; the diver then suddenly lets go, sinks a few feet below the surface, turns quickly and head-first swims rapidly to the bottom. Arriving there, he pulls himself along by grasping the coral branches and breaking the shells loose from their anchorage with his right hand, which is protected by a cloth wrapping, and stows them away in a cocoanut fibre basket slung over the shoulder. This done, he straightens himself and shoots to the surface with astonishing rapidity, seeming to leap up from the water as he arrives with almost sufficient impetus to carry him into the waiting canoe. In a few minutes he is ready to dive again. In some localities where divers were employed the women were preferred, not because they could do better work always, but one could depend on them more safely. This was true of the divers in Torres Straits between Queensland and New Guinea. Before dress-diving was introduced these naked natives would dive into ten or twelve fathoms and bring up an oyster under each arm. The shells were large, weighing three to six pounds together and sometimes ten, but they contained few pearls and those were generally small. As they were brought up the oysters were searched for pearls and the fish used for food. The shells sold in Sydney then for eight to nine hundred dollars the ton. Years ago the women of Chile about the Bay of Concepcion claimed as a right the fishing for mussels. The men rowed them out to the beds and stuck long poles into the shoal below, down which the women would slide, returning with both hands full of mussels. The fishing was done from canoes, each holding one man and one woman. The women did not consider this a hardship but a privilege of which they were quite jealous, for they devoted the proceeds of their catch to the purchase of finery. Wonderful stories are told of the great depths to which these naked divers go and the great length of time they can remain under water. Many of these tales are gross exaggerations, rns which have grown more wonderful with the telling, or the reports of careless or inexperienced observers. As a matter of fact at most of the fisheries, twenty to thirty feet is good diving, and from forty to fifty feet is the maximum depth. Sixty to eighty seconds is the average limit of time they remain under water. If one will try to hold the breath for sixty seconds, even while remaining perfectly still, it will be at once understood that to do so while moving and working rapidly under water is a great feat. Nevertheless there have been instances undoubtedly, where naked divers have gone to much greater depths and remained under for several minutes. Such cases are rare however and occur most frequently among the natives of the South Sea Islands, who, male and female, are expert divers from childhood and spend much of their lives in the water. Visitors have claimed that natives of the Tongarewa Islands, in longitude one hundred and fifty-eight degrees W. and latitude nine degrees S., can do twenty to twenty-five fathoms and will even go deeper when tempted by the sight of a few oysters lying in a hole or depression near by. Going below twenty-five fathoms results almost invariably in a sort of paralysis. The diver comes up howling and incapable of motion and unless companions at once seize and rub him vigorously with salt water until circulation is restored, a process lasting sometimes many hours, he dives no more. If restored he will dive again next day, and such is their recklessness that the same temptation would lead him to take the risk again. Monsters abound in these waters. Should the diver be attacked by a devil-fish, shark, or word-fish, he does not use a knife, as blood would attract other devils of the sea and becloud the water to his own confusion. Instead he seeks to avoid his enemy, and if the troubler is a sword-fish, tries to find shelter among the rocks. If the fish departs quickly, he escapes; but the time of a live man one hundred feet under water is short and sometimes the swordfish over-stays it. Helmets have been used to a certain extent in all parts of the world. Many of them were clumsy affairs, abhorred by all native divers, and were a bad introduction to the “dress” used in the large operations of big fisheries such as those of Australia and the Pacific coast of this continent. In the seas about Australia, modern appliances are being rapidly introduced. The Australians use them if possible, wherever they fish. On their own coast all diving is now done in dress; but among some of the islands of the Pacific, where they are extending their interests, native prejudice is still able to hinder the use of it. Probably the chief reason for the general use of the dress on the Australian coast so early was that the shallows were soon exhausted, and naked diving was not successful beyond a depth of fifty feet. With the dress, a diver can work at much greater depths, remain under water an hour or two, and work all the year round. In fisheries like those of Ceylon, where the banks are seldom over forty feet deep and well known, being fished over and over again at one season of the year only, at comparatively short intervals (four to six years), the necessity for dress-diving is less and the naked native diver will probably survive for many years although modern innovations are gradually creeping in even among the fisheries controlled by Orientals. The dress consists of a rubber suit all in one piece, which the diver gets into through the neck; leaden-soled boots, corselet to which the helmet is screwed, and chest and back weights. The diver dresses and steps on to the ladder hanging over the boat’s side. The air-pipe, lifeline, and helmet are attached, the man at the air-pump is set to work, and last of all the face glass is screwed up. A plunge, a splash, and he drops swiftly through the heaving billows to the quiet depths below, his life in the hands of the tender he has left in the boat. This man must feel the diver constantly by the life-line, keep him supplied with air and be ready for any of the emergencies always liable to arise. Only an alert man of good judgment and quick action should tend the life-line, though the most successful diver, a Japanese, on the Australian coast some years ago, had the best tender of that section in the person of his wife. If it is the diver’s first plunge, his ears and head will be racked with pain as he descends. This pain will leave him when he reaches bottom, but on his return to the surface he will find his nose and ears bleeding and will probably spit blood also. After this he will not experience pain in diving, but in common with nearly all divers will never be quite free from extreme irritability and bad temper while below; he will also have gained the diver’s ability to blow smoke through the ears. Diving is injurious to the health and, if persisted in, produces deafness and incipient paralysis. Few of the divers on the Australian coast now are aborigines. Their antipathy to the dress amounted in many cases to a superstition, so as the fishing was pushed out to deeper waters and the dress became a necessity, they were discarded with the old methods. It is said that in the old times diving had a peculiar effect upon the black-haired natives. By the end of the fishing season the color of their hair became yellow though the natural hue returned later. With the dress, a diver can work comfortably at one hundred to a hundred and twenty-five feet, but men who know the fisheries doubt if that can be exceeded. Nor does it seem needful to go deeper, for in seas which have been explored at greater depths it is usually found that the bottom consists of ooze unsuitable for the life and growth of the oyster. Beyond those inherent to the art of diving, either method has its peculiar difficulties after bottom is reached. In naked diving, especially at the shoals of Ceylon and Venezuela, where the shells are small and abundant, it is simply a question of gathering as many as possible while the breath lasts and looking out for the dangerous fishes indigenous to tropical waters. Sharks are common in many of the pearl oyster seas, but experienced divers do not fear them greatly, as the fish, formidable as it may appear, and dangerous as it is when it can come upon one unawares, is easily frightened. Many expert swimmers of the Indian and Pacific oceans do not hesitate to attack them in their own element. Usually vigorous splashing will frighten them away. The dress-divers of Australia scare them off by allowing a jet of air to escape. As the bubbles start for him, the man-eating monster shoots away from them as if terror-stricken. The diamond-flounder of the Pacific and Indian oceans, a huge flat fish with a habit of seizing its prey between the side fins and crushing it, is more dangerous. If a dress diver of experience sees one of these approaching, he is apt to shut off the air-escape of his helmet and signal to his tender that he is coming to the surface as fast as he can get there. The rock-cod also is sometimes troublesome on the Australian coast. Occasionally he attains an enormous size. This fish lies hidden in submarine caves, his head protruding and his monstrous jaws yawning vertically wide like an entrance to the cave itself. But accidents from the denizens of the sea are comparatively few; the physical results of dee sea diving are more to be dreaded, for paralysis hovers close to the thirty-fathom line. Although dress-diving has the advantage over naked diving that it gives a supply of air to breathe while at work, it also entails dangers and difficulties from which the old method is free. An imperfect supply of air may cause the bursting of a blood-vessel. Fouling of the lines might not only cut off the air supply entirely, but prevent the man, anchored by his heavy dress under twenty fathoms of water more or less, from signalling the man at the life-line. As on dry land, there are holes and precipices at the bottom of the sea to be avoided. In some seas there are swift currents and as the dress-diver remains under water for some time, instead of returning at once like his naked brother, he must keep moving with it, and as he moves, the boat must move in unison and his tender must keep the lines free. Both diver and tender must be skilful and alert to do this. Nor is it always easy in deep-sea diving to find the oysters. They lie in scattered bunches, often hidden by sponges, coral or other sea growths, their gray or moss-grown exteriors scarcely to be distinguished from the surroundings; if in mud, only an inch or so of the sharp lips of the two valves projecting above the surface are in evidence; while if in stooping to gather the shells he should fall, he is likely to shoot feet foremost to the surface. Though dress-diving has heretofore been confined almost entirely to white men, the Japanese, Chinese, Malays, South Sea Islanders, and others in different places, are now being educated to it chiefly through an Australian fishery. At the northwestern corner of Australia, a thousand miles from the nearest railroad and ten days from the nearest port, there are pearl fisheries where the climate is so hot that white men cannot be obtained for the work. Colored men are shipped there from Singapore to man the boats, the pearl-fishers giving a bond to the government of 100 pounds sterling for each man employed, as a guarantee that he will not go to other parts of the state. A fleet of about three hundred boats and fifteen hundred men are employed there, the supply station being at Broome township. In all things, when once the improvements of science gain a foothold anywhere in the world, the whole earth succumbs eventually to their advantages, and so with diving; the habits and prejudices of thousands of years will be forced by commercial pressure to submit themselves to modern appliances, and the picturesque nakedness of the swarthy orient will soon be hidden under the ugly but useful dress of civilization.
HABITAT OF THE PEARL OYSTER
The Pearl Oyster is found in more or less abundance on the shoals and reefs about the shores of every land within a belt of the earth lying between 30 degrees north and south of the equator. Coral reefs and limestone foundations usually form the beds on which they propagate. Beyond these limits the abalone is found at Japan, on the California coast, Queen Charlotte’s Island, the Cape, Australia, New Zealand, China, about the English Channel, and on the coast of France, where the shores are washed by equatorial currents. It exists also on the shores of India and the Canary Islands. The largest and heaviest shells, which yield fine mother-of-pearl most abundantly are confined almost entirely to the Pacific Ocean within twenty degrees south of the equator. The best white shells come from the northern shores of Australia and the Aroo islands. The best black shells are found about Tahiti, the Gambier Islands, and the Tuamotu Archipelago. Of the big yellow variety, the best are obtained in the Merguian Archipelago and Dutch Indies. The shells of this dis Strict at Ceram, Batjan, and elsewhere, vary somewhat but the bulk of them are yellow. Beginning with the east coast of Africa, the pearl oyster is found in the Red Sea, where it has been fished for ages. The shell here is of medium size and weight; much larger than those of Venezuela, Ceylon, or the Persian Gulf and smaller than the shells of the Pacific. The mother-of-pearl is not of the finest quality and is used now for inferior work only. It was more used formerly but since the fresh-water unio shell of the United States came into the market, it has displaced to a great degree the Egyptian and Panama shells. The inner edge of the Red Sea shell is of a greenish gray color. South of the Red Sea, on the East of the African coast, pearl oysters are found in a number of places between Zanzibar and Inhambane, particularly at the Bazaruto Islands, but nowhere in sufficient abundance to develop the fishing for them into a regular industry. Good mother-of-pearl is abundant on the German East African coast, but the oysters carry few pearls. Travelling east, they are next found in large numbers in that arm of the Arabian Sea known as the Persian Gulf. Here they have existed for many centuries. The mollusk is of the smaller species and the shells are known in the market as Lingahs, from the name of the centre of the pearl trade in this district. The shells are of no commercial importance. After these come the ancient fisheries of India, the most prolific in the world. The oysters here are smaller than those of the Arabian Sea and the shells are of no value, but they mature rapidly and yield great quantities of pearls. Myriads of them cover the shoals and banks between the coast of India, at the South-eastern point, and Ceylon, and as the beds are under government supervision, they cannot be destroyed by the reckless fishing of immature oysters. Crossing the Bay of Bengal and the Malay Peninsula, between longitudes 1oo and 120 degrees E., there are pearl oysters on the coasts of China, the Merguian Archipelago and western Australia. Between longitudes 120 degrees E. and 150 degrees E., these mollusks flourish on many coasts, including those of Japan, the Sulu Archipelago, the Dutch Indies, the Spice Islands, the Banda Islands, the Aroo Islands, New Guinea and northern Australia. The Australian shells are large and the lining is white and fine. As shell fisheries they are the largest in the world and although the value of the pearls found is small compared with the amount realized from the sale of the shells it is considerable and growing. The Aroo shells are white like the Australian. Those from the Banda Islands are a smaller black-edge shell. Most of the others like the Manila shell of the Sulu Islands, are yellow. At longitude 165 degrees E. the fisheries of New Caledonia are becoming notable for the number of fine fancy colored pearls found there. Both avicula margaritifera and meleagrina margaritifera are taken off the west coast. In the waters of the Fiji Islands, longitude 180 degrees E. pearl oysters of the black edge shell variety similar to the Bandas but a little larger are fairly abundant. Fine shells, often containing very beautiful pearls, are taken off the coasts of Tahiti, Gambier, and throughout the Tuamotu Archipelago, lying between longitudes 130 degrees W. and 150 degrees W. The shells are of the black-edge type, large and heavy. The nacre is thick and has a particularly mellow luster; throughout this section both shells and pearls rank among the best. All over the South Sea, pearl oysters are found about the islands and in the lagoons within the atolls which stud it, but in quantities too small in many places to induce capital to establish fisheries. Fishing for them is confined therefore to native divers who are rewarded by the occasional find of a few pearls, which often they sell at ridiculous prices to the stray traders who may chance to come their way. This eastward journey now brings us to the Pacific coast of the American continent. Here the pearl-bearing mollusk is found on the shores of Lower California, about the Islands of the Gulf of California, at various points on the Mexican coast-line south to Acapulco and at Panama. They exist also on the coast of Ecuador but of late years fishing has not proved remunerative and it is now carried on in a desultory way only. They are found also on the western coast of Nicaragua. The Mexican shells known as Panama shell or bullock shell have a dark, dirty, greenish rim and are much less valuable than the white or black shell. Similarly, dark, slaty-colored pearls are known as Panamas because many pearls taken on this coast are of that character. This color tendency however often results more advantageously as many of the pearls are sufficiently dark to be classed as fancy and some beautiful black and red pearls are found in these waters. Panama pearls also have the reputation of being softer than others. There are pearl oysters also on the Peruvian coast but this section has not yet been fished. On the Atlantic side of America pearl oysters are abundant in the Gulf of Campeche and on the shoals about the islands and shores of Venezuela. The shells of Central America are similar to the Panamas only more yellow, while those of Venezuela are small and valueless. Between the east coast of America and the Red Sea are no fisheries save at Haiti, for no discoveries of any importance have been made on the western coast of Africa. Consideration of these homes of the pearl oyster shows it to be a tropical fish and that it attains greater dimensions in the Pacific Ocean and near the equator than elsewhere. Beyond 30 degrees north it is found only at two points, the western shore of America and on the Japanese coast. These shores are washed by equatorial currents. The small varieties of the Indian seas and Venezuela, mature rapidly in four to six years, and if not taken they die out after the seventh year. The meleagrina of the Pacific however, though it attains its full size in six to eight years, continues to lay on shellnacre up to twelve and even twenty years. A shell which is of good size but comparatively thin is called by the dealers in mother-of-pearl a “young shell.” The Australian pictured at page 129 is such an one. The Tuamotu at page 127 is not full grown but well along in years, probably fourteen to sixteen years old. Of the sea mollusks yielding formations which, though not true pearls, are so called, the conch, a large univalve fountain-shell-fish (Strombus gigas), is a native of the West Indies. steropod, the ear-shell (Haliotis) Another, ag known in the United States as the abalone, is found on the coasts of California, Japan, the English Channel Islands and elsewhere. The Californians are divided into three classes, the blue backs, about six inches long, and green and red ears, which are half as large again. Pinnas yielding black seed pearls are found south of the Island of Mafia on the east coast of Africa. On the banks and shoals between Mafia and Zanzibar is a red mussel from which white pearls are taken. The fresh-water pearl-bearing mussel, the unio, unlike the sea oyster is most abundant north of 30 degrees N. In China and the Hawaiian Island Oahu it is found a little to the south of 30 degrees N., and it has been discovered lately in Southern Rhodesia a little north of 30 degrees S., but the countries and streams in which the unio is plentiful and where it yields the most pearls lie within latitudes 30 degrees N. and 60 degrees N. They have been taken from the streams of Great Britain since the times when the Romans had a colony there. They exist in Bohemia, Saxony, Bavaria, Lapland, Canada, Labrador and in great quantities in the United States. 207
PEARL FISHERIES
The pearl fisheries of the Red Sea are at Lohia. At the lower end of the Red Sea, at Massawa on the African side, and at Lohia on the Arabian side, are a number of small barren islands, the banks lie in shallow water between them. The industry is financed by merchants. principally natives of Bombay, India, who in partnership with the Bedouin boat-owners, control the fishing. The Bedouin captain takes with him a few Arabs to man the boat and a number of black slaves as divers. The shells have a market value for mother-of-pearl but the quality is inferior. They have a greenish-gray edge and are fairly heavy and formerly they were much in demand. Of late years the fresh-water unio shells have replaced them to a certain extent for cheap material but the shells are yet about ninety per cent. of the value of the fishings. Returns show exports of pearls averaging one hundred thousand dollars per annum but as a large number go direct to Bombay and are not reported, this does not fairly represent the extent of the industry. The beds vary in depth, thirty to forty feet being the maximum depth fished. Naked native diving is the rule, but the Italian government has lately farmed out concessions at Dahlak and Farsan where they are experimenting with helmets. The fishing season is from the beginning of March to the end of May. The arm of the Arabian sea lying between Arabia and Persia known as the Persian Gulf, has always been rich in pearl-oysters and is a prolific source of supply to-day. These banks are fished chiefly for the pearls. The shell, though larger than the Ceylon, is of the “Lingah” class as it is called, and is of little value for mother-of-pearl. Though pearl-oysters are found all along the coast of Arabia, the most productive shoals are between the Islands of Halool and Katar. These shoals commence at the Island of Bahrein immediately off the Arab coast near the centre of the gulf and continue east and south along the district of Katar for nearly two hundred miles after which the banks are lost in deep water. The chief centre of the pearl trade is Lingah, hence the name given to the shells of this district. Most of the pearls go to Bombay and are known as Bombay pearls, many of them having a distinctly yellow tint. The whitest and finest go to Bagdad and eventually the best go to Europe. India takes the irregular ones and China gets the seed pearls. The principal banks are at Bahrein. This island is the most important one of a group situated in an indentation of the Arabian coast and is about seventy miles long and twenty five broad. Small boats carrying from five to fifteen men fish the shallows near the coast, but larger boats, manned by from twenty to fifty men, put out for the banks further from shore into deep water. These remain out during the entire season coming into port once or twice only for supplies. The owners of the boats are generally poor. They depend upon the dealers for advances at the beginning of the season for supplies, and many of them are therefore practically in a state of bondage. When the deep-water boats reach the fishing grounds, half the crew is selected for diving. The diver uses a small braided mat basket as a receptacle for the shells and has a long line attached to him by which he can signal to the man in the boat who manages it. There is a man to each diver’s line. Except for the short intervals at the surface necessary for air and rest, the divers remain in the water for hours. The oyster beds vary in depth from six to eighteen feet in the shallows, to forty feet at the banks. The duration of the fishing season depends on the temperature of the water. It lasts usually through July, August, and September, though some of the larger boats remain out from the end of June until the beginning of October. The pearls are sold by weight, sales being made sometimes while at sea and a duty equalling about twenty per cent. is levied on the spot. A large number of Hindu traders come during the season to buy, returning to India at the close as they have done for centuries. No exact statistics of the output of these fisheries are to be had but the yield is said to average well; some authorities placing the value of the fisheries of the entire district in the sixties at nearly two millions of dollars per annum, and the number of boats engaged at 4,oo to 5,o00. As ancient as those of the Arabian sea and even more important are the pearl fisheries of India. These are also fished for the pearls, the shells of these waters being smaller than those of the Persian Gulf and valueless for mother-ofpearl. The pearls however average whiter than those of the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf. Although equally fine pearls are found in other waters the Ceylon, or Madras pearls as they are called, have long been esteemed the best because of their good average color and quality. These banks are situated in the Gulf of Manaar between the southern point of India and the island of Ceylon. On the Madras (India) side the banks are off Tinnevalli and Madura at Tuticorin. The Indian revenue realized a profit of £13,000 from a fishing here in 1822, and £10,000 from another in 1830. Examinations showed that there were not sufficient oysters for profitable fishing after that until 1860, when the government netted £20,000, and a fishing the following year, 1861, was equally successful. The banks failed in 1862 and there was no fishery until 1874. Pollution of the water from the Indian shores has been detrimental to these banks and they are now of little importance. On the Ceylon side, the banks lie six to eight miles off the west shore and a little south of the island of Manaar. Fishing has been an industry from early times before history began. There are records of these fisheries under the kings of Kandy and later by the Portuguese after they took possession of Ceylon about 1505, to 1655 when the island passed into the hands of the Dutch. In old times they were called the fisheries of Aripo after a fort on the coast. Not until the English gained control were the fisheries so managed that definite knowledge of the results could be obtained. After the Dutch gave way to the English, until 19o3, these fisheries had yielded a net income to the government of over £1,000,000. This covered a period of over one hundred years, as the British occupied Ceylon in 1796. In the early years of this period and prior to that, the fishings, or rights to fish, were sold to the highest bidders, usually Hindu merchants. In 1796 the fishing brought £60,000. The year after the British took possession, 1797, it realized £110,000 that amount having been paid by Candappa Chetty, a native of Jaffna for the fishery right, and for that of 1798, the same renter paid £140,000. These fishings, which were prolonged, so exhausted the banks that the fishery of 1799 yielded but £30,000. From 1799 to 1802 the yearly product ranged from £12,000 to £55,000. In 1804 they were leased for £120,000 but from that time on declined so that in 1828 they brought only £30,612. There were no fishings from 1820 to 1827, nor in 1834 and after 1837, until 1855. The supply failed in 1864 and for several succeeding years, and again for a decade, after five successful fishings from 1887 to 1891. The average yearly profit up to 18 was about £34,000. The Ceylon and Madras fisheries are now in charge of a government officer, who spends a part of each year inspecting the various banks so as to be informed as to the whereabouts of mature oysters, and the location and progress of the young and immature. They keep a record of their condition at different periods, and regulate the fisheries by permitting fishing only when they consider the banks to be ripe for it. The oysters mature in from four to six years so that ordinarily a bank may be fished once in that period, but it sometimes happens that the young oysters are swept away by violent storms or crowded out by natural enemies. In 1901 the Ceylon banks were found to be in a bad way, there were plenty of young oysters but none full-grown. The government officers could not account for the condition, and in response to a report of the facts the government sent Prof. W. A. Herdman to Ceylon in 1902. He examined the whole of the bottom of the Gulf of Manaar and discovered banks on which were full-grown oysters, so that a fishing was fixed for the 23rd of February 1903. Weather prevented commencement until the second of March, when fishing began and lasted fortytwo working days until April the fourteenth. The fishings take place in March and April because the sea is usually calm at that period. The banks lie in five to ten fathoms over a shallow area nearly fifty miles long by twenty miles broad, opposite Aripo. A steep declivity on the western edge gives the sea a depth of one hundred fathoms in a few miles. In the centre of the southern part of the Gulf of Manaar, west of the Chilaw pearl-banks, the sea is one to two thousand fathoms deep. Of all the paars, or oyster beds (paar means rock or hard bottom) the Periya paar is the largest. It is about eleven nautical miles long and from one to two miles broad. Situated in about five to ten fathoms close to the top of the wester slope of the shallows, and running north and south about twenty miles from land, it is exposed to the southwest monsoon which runs up toward the Bay of Bengal for about six months of the year. The natives call this the mother-paar, believing that the young oysters are carried from it to the other paars, which are thus stocked at its expense. Between 1880 and 1902 twenty-one examinations showed that the Periya paar had been naturally stocked eleven times with enormous quantities of young oysters, which as regularly disappeared before they were old enough to yield a fishing. The most reliable paars are in the Cheval district and it is probable that the government, acting on the suggestion of Prof. Herdman, will hereafter dredge the breeding Periya paar of its young oysters and plant them where they will be able to mature. It is estimated that many millions of millions of oysters have been lost from this paar during the last twenty-five years. A fishing is not only a matter of commercial importance, but of wide-spread interest among the natives of Ceylon and India. The romance of the situation, the hope of gain, the great gathering of people from many and far-off countries, the opportunities for barter, the possibilities of securing priceless gems for little, and for making money quickly, all appeal to the oriental mind. For this they will endure the discomforts of long and painful journeys and the dangers of crowded camp life with a recklessness that contrasts curiously with the wild panics into which they are sometimes thrown, as for instance in 1889, when the Ceylon fishing collapsed on account of cholera. In a few hours a fleet of 200 boats disappeared, the camp was burned, and the multitude gone. Great precautions are taken by the government officials in every direction. When they have decided that there are banks in condition to be fished, notice of a fishing is advertised. The following notification of the fishery for 1904 is an illustration. “Government Notification. Pearl fishery of 1904. Notice is hereby given that a pearl fishery will take place at Marichchikaddi, in the Island of Ceylon, on or about March 14, 1904. 1. The bank to be fished is the southwest Cheval Paar which is estimated to contain 13,000,000 oysters. 2. It is notified that the first day’s fishing will take place on the first favorable day after March 13. 3. Marichchikaddi is on the main land, eight miles by sea south of Sillavaturai and supplies of good water and provisions can be obtained there. 4. The fishery will be conducted on account of the Government, and the oysters put up for sale in such lots as may be deemed expedient. 5. The arrangements of the fishery will be the same as have been usual on similar occasions. Persons attending the fishery camp from India will be permitted to travel to Ceylon by either of the following routes: (1) Tuticorin to Colombo or (2) Paumben to Marichchikaddi and by no other. Arrangements will be made as at the last fishery, for travellers to proceed from Paumben direct to the camp. The only striction imposed on travellers by the Paumben route will be inspection by the medical officers at Paumben. 6. All payments to be made in ready money in Ceylon currency. 7. Drafts on the banks in Colombo or bills on the agents of this Government in India, at ten days sight, will be taken on letters of credit produced to warrant the drawing of such drafts or bills. 8. For the convenience of purchasers, the treasurer at Colombo and the different Government agents of provinces will be authorized to receive cash deposits from parties intending to become purchasers, and receipts of these officers will be taken in payment of any sums due on account of the fishery. 9. No deposit will be received for a less sum than Rs. 250. By His Excellency’s command. Everard Im Thurm, Colonial Secretary. Colonial Secretary’s Office, Colombo, Feb. 27, 1904.” The sanitary precautions are of the utmost importance, for a plague stricken Hindu, if he were dying, would still endeavor to go where he might “get rich quickly.” As the time draws near, thousands of speculators and sightseers from farther and nearer India arrive. Berbers, Arabs, Persians, and Burmese, mingle with the Singhalese and Tamil divers. A town of huts to accommodate perhaps 50,ooo springs into existence. Steamer service to Colombo is started, post and telegraph service is established and sanitary measures put in force. Conjurors employed by the divers go through incantations to preserve them from the sharks which abound in these waters. This shark-charming power is believed to be hereditary and not dependent on the religion of the conjuror and he can, if ill or absent, convey the power to a substitute so that it will be respected by the sharks. To make matte doubly sure the divers arm themselves with a short, pointed piece of ironwood. This however is not their main reliance for a “wise woman” was able to avert a panic which was well under way, after one of the divers was bitten at the Tuticorin fishing of 1890. Excepting the loss of a limb occasionally not much damage is done by the sharks, a fact which sustains the implicit faith of the natives in their shark-charmers. When the day set by the Government officials arrives, the fleet puts to sea after numerous ceremonies. The boats, which range from ten to fifteen tons, are grouped in fleets of sixty to seventy. Beside the divers they are manned by ten or more sailors, a steersman, and if possible by a shark-charmer (pillal karras). The boats leave at midnight in order to be ready on the banks at sunrise. At the firing of a signal gun diving commences. A stone of granite, shaped like a pyramid and weighing about thirty to forty pounds, is attached through a hole at the smaller end to the cord by which the diver is lowered. Some divers prefer a half-moon stone fastened to the waist. Above the stone when attached to the line is a loop for the diver’s foot. The divers work in pairs, one going down and the other remaining in the boat to attend to the line, and in some cases exchanging positions as the diver becomes exhausted. Naked divers stay below fifty to eighty seconds on an average, though some can remain under water longer. Each man makes forty to fifty descents a day and brings up fifteen to thirty oysters each time. As a rule the maximum depth in these waters is about fortytwo feet though fishing at twelve and thirteen fathoms is reported. The divers work from sunrise to noon, which allowing for shifts gives each man four hours diving for a day’s work. A gun is fired as a signal for the day’s fishing to cease and the fleet starts at once for shore. Upon arriving there the oysters are immediately landed by coolies who carry them in baskets, on their backs, to the “Kottu,” or government stockade. There they are counted and each boat-load is divided into three equal parts; Two of these are chosen by officials for the government and the remaining heap is the boats’ share. Formerly the catch was divided into four parts of which the government took three. Of the boats’ share the divers get in some cases two thirds. As soon as the division is made, those belonging to the boat are quickly traded or sold to the numerous small speculators which abound in the camp. Six evenings in the week the government auctions off the catch in lots of one thousand. While each day’s catch is being counted the average run is carefully watched by experts who judge by the size, weight and general appearance of the oysters as to the probable yield of pearls. Opinions so formed are usually quite correct and bidding at the auctions are based on them to a great extent. The principal buyers are from Madras, Bombay, and other cities on the Coromandel and Malabar coasts of India, though local speculators buy many. The catch runs about one million per day, In 19o3 forty-four million oysters were taken, but they realized much less than the catch of 1904, when the number was not quite twentysix and three-quarter millions, though it netted the government $350,000, 1905, however, will be the record year as it is claimed the profits will reach the large sum of $830,000. These figures represent the government’s share only, The price realized at these sales varies not only with the season but from day to day. Ten to fourteen dollars per thousand is a fair average, though there are days when as much as twenty. four dollars is realized. Prices have ranged from $7.50 to $40.00 per thousand in one season. The net proceeds go to the revenue of Ceylon. This has been the system under which the Ceylon fisheries were managed until lately. For some reason unknown to the public, the government, after a season of unequalled profit in 1905, leased the fisheries to a company, the Pearl Fishers of Ceylon (Limited), for a period of twenty years from January 1, 1906. The company is to pay the government $103,333 per annum and is to expend annually upon the improvement of the fishery not less than $16,666, or more than $50,000, at the discretion of the government. The expenses of supervision and protection by the government must also be borne by the company. As a result of the first fishery (1906), the company after setting aside $49,628 for depreciations and reserve and carrying forward $77,382, show a profit of $256,960 which affords dividends of 36 cents on ordinary shares and 18 cents on deferred shares, a remarkably good beginning. The government revenue from the fishery of 1905 was $801,882 after the expenses, $73,510 were deducted; over $111,000 more than the profit of 1904 which was the most successful up to that time. The inspector of pearl-banks anticipated a good fishery in 1906 but was of the opinion that after a small fishery in 1907 and probably 1908 the banks would fail for some years as they have done in the past. After the pearls are taken from the dead oysters they are first sorted for size. This is done by passing them through a series of ten small brass sieves known as baskets, containing from twenty to one thousand holes. The sieves have twenty, thirty, fifty, eighty, one hundred, two hundred, four hundred, six hundred, eight hundred and one thousand holes respectively. The pearls are then sorted for color and quality, weighed and valued. As with all things, really fine pieces are rare, the great mass being ordinary or poor. Herein lies the attraction and excitement of the business for some will find great gems. One may imagine the keen interest of the swarthy buyer who has parted with his hoards, hoping to find “a pearl of great price” when he washes the lustrous spheres from the putrid mass of decaying fish: the eager search; the joy when his eye lights upon a big, white, shining sphere rising up among the heap of little ones; the growing exultation as he picks it out and with feverish interest rolls it about between his fingers to find it without flaw or blemish, or the keen disappointment should his inspection show, as it most frequently does, that it is full of imperfections. Hovering about are the buyers for the great Hindu merchants, agents of far-off princes and Europeans, all watching sharply for great finds and ready to enter into the combat of wits which marks an oriental trading. If one remembers that there are probably twenty-five thousand traders congregated on the hot sands of this far-off shore, the fair dame whose neck is clasped by a string of these precious globules, may conjure from their lustrous skins, scenes as wild and weird as any fairy tale that set her youth to dreaming. The pearls are sorted into a number of grades. Those perfect in sphericity and luster are called “ani.” Anitari meaning “followers” or “companions,” are of the same general character, but poorer in those important qualities. Masanku are somewhat irregular in shape and faulty, especially in luster and color. The poorest of this class, lacking the essential qualities, are separated into another grade and called “kallipu.” Next come “kural,” double or twinned, and “pisal,” are misshapen or clustered. Folded or bent pearls are “madanku,” and what we would call “rejection,” a mixed lot of all sorts and sizes too poor to include in any of the regular classifications, are termed “vadivu.” Seed-pearls, the very small pearls of which there are great quantities, are known as “tul.” Many of these are ground to “chunam” or shell-lime, and used as an ingredient in a favorite masticatory. The assortments being made, they are weighed and recorded in kalanchu (kalungy) and manchadi (manjaday). The kalanchu is a brass weight equal to 67 grains troy, and the manchadi is a small red berry that is of very even weight when full sized, and is reckoned twenty to a kalanchu. In the valuation of ani, anitari and vadivu, the individual size, form, and color is considered, but the others are simply valued by weight. The modus operandi of these fisheries like all others managed by Orientals continues much the same from fishing to fishing. Experiments have been made at the Tuticorin fishery with helmeted divers but their catch compared unfavorably with that of the naked natives, who will sometimes under favorable circumstances bring up two thousand in a day. It is said that the X-ray is being used to some extent in the examination of shells and that those found to be without pearls are thrown back into the sea, but it is doubtful if the general use would be practical or advantageous while oysters remain abundant; so far, the use of it has been experimental only. Fine pearls are found in Dutch India among the Molucca Islands. Fishing is done by the natives, and as they seldom go deeper than ten or twelve feet the probability is that they do not get the finest shells or pearls, for it seems to be quite well established that the shells taken from deep water are larger and more likely to contain large pearls. Whether this arises from deep water being more favorable to growth, or an unmolested opportunity to grow, has not been determined. Hitherto the Netherlands Indian government has opposed encroachment upon the rights of the natives and colonists, and has patrolled the waters with small gunboats to prevent any attempt by Europeans to fish. But lately concessions have been made to British firms so that shell is being shipped direct to London, and it is now thought that these fisheries will soon rival the Australian. The pearls were formerly bought from natives, principally of the Island of Aroe, by Chinese and Arabs who took them to Macassar. From there they were sent first to Singapore and then to London, Paris, and Amsterdam. Most of the pearls brought to Macassar are baroques, though fine specimens of more regular shape arrive there occasionally. The mother-of-pearl from these shells is of good quality. Some pearls are found at the Bazaruto Islands, Portuguese East Africa, a few miles from the coast, midway between Inhambane and Beira. A concession was granted to a company about 1892, but bad management, lack of funds and political difficulties, killed the enterprise. General reports indicate that it is very difficult for any enterprise subject to the officials of this district to succeed. The Bazaruto Kaffirs still fish, but without system or intelligence. They are wasteful and damage many of the pearls by cooking the oyster. The few found are shipped by Indian traders to Bombay and Zanzibar. Pearl fishing has been attempted on the coast of German East Africa at Zanzibar Island and south, between the Island of Mafia and the main coast. Mother-of-pearl is abundant but few pearls have been found and there has been no sustained effort. There are large coral banks about the islands of the coast favorable for the growth of mother-of-pearl and there is shallow water over large areas. Good white pearls have been taken from a red mussel found there. South of the Island of Mafia are beds of large pinna shells which yield black seed-pearls. There are pearl-shell fisheries in the Merguian Archipelago and in the government of Burmah and some pearls are found. The banks, scattered over an area of eleven thousand square miles, are rented from the government and rights to fish are sublet on royalty. The fishing is nearly all done by helmeted diver Avicula and meleagrina margaritifera are taken off the west coast of New Caledonia, From the former large numbers of pearls are taken, and from the latter, very beautiful white pearls. Fine colored pearls pink, yellow, gray and black are often found in this district. A variety of oyster commonly called shoulder of mutton, and another shell-fish called jamboneau (pinna) of which the pearl is very fine, are also found in these waters. A syndicate was formed in Paris to exploit these beds and obtained concessions covering one hundred and thirty miles. Owing to the difficulty of getting divers, the waters had not been exploited to any great depth up to 1898, the regular fishings being confined to the shallows of six to seven feet, though larger shells were known to be in deeper water. More systematic work with modern appliances and in deeper waters has since been done with good success, but late reports show an accumulation of shell and indications that the industry has not been profitable. In 1904 the price of shell (black-edge mother-of-pearl) fell to $250, U. S. gold per ton of 2240 pounds, from $700, the former price, with six hundred tons stored in London, Paris, Berlin, New York and San Francisco, making a prospective loss of $270,000 for 1904. There was an attempt to limit the production by a return to native diving. With dress the output would be about 500 tons for the year, with naked-diving 200 tons less. This would operate against the local government, as it not only levies $38.60 U. S. gold per metric ton as an export duty, but makes a large profit on the diving machines by way of license. The pearl fisheries of French Oceanica therefore face a grave situation. Pearls are found occasionally on the western coast of Nicaragua at San Juan del Norte. The Panama coast still yields great quantities of pearls as it has done for many years. When Spain controlled the northwestern section of South America with the Isthmus to the borders of Guatemala, under the name of Colombia, immense quantities of pearls were sent home by the colonists. It is recorded that 697 pounds of pearls were imported into Seville from Colombia in 1587. A large proportion of these undoubtedly came from the coasts of what is now Venezuela. The Panama or bullock shell as it is called, is not of the finest quality and the pearls are apt to be dark and inferior to the Indian pearls in luster as well as in color; nevertheless fine pearls are found there and the fisheries yield a greater average of black pearls than any other. Beautiful iridescent pearls are also found there. The Pearl islands arc on the east side of the Bay of Panama about forty miles from the city. The banks there may only be fished by divers but between Chiriqui and Veragua dredging is allowed. Since the United States government has become interested in this section there is a tendency here to exploit the Panama coasts and companies have been formed in the States for that purpose. The pearl fisheries formerly carried on along the coast of Ecuador about two hundred miles north of Guayaquil, are no longer operated. On the Atlantic coast of South America the most fruitful pearl-banks lie along the coast of Venezuela and west to Rio Hacha on the Colombian coast. This was the first part of the American mainland sighted by Columbus and the quantities of pearls owned by the natives did much to draw the tide of adventurers which set this way in the sixteenth century. The oysters are taken from reefs and bars about one mile from shore and about the islands. The principal beds arc at El Tirano, 23.
northeast, and Macanao, northwest of the island of Margarita. There are fisheries also at the neighboring Islands of Coche and Cubagua. About four hundred sail-boats of from three to fifteen tons, employing two thousand men, are constantly at work in these fisheries. A French company purchased a concession about the year 19oo from a Venezuelan to fish in this neighborhood. It was to pay the Venezuelan government 1o per cent. of the profits as royalty and use divers and diving apparatus so as to select the oysters and avoid waste of the immature. Fishing by natives is done mostly by dredging with metal scoops. It is estimated that upwards of $600,000 worth of pearls are found about the island of Margarita per annum, most of them going to the Paris market. Exclusive rights have been granted a Venezuelan citizen by the local government lately to exploit the Gulf of Cariaco for pearls and other sea products. The contract is for twentyfive years. Certain advantages are guaranteed by the government which is to receive fifteen per cent, of the net profits of the enterprise. About forty or fifty years ago several English companies conducted profitable fisheries in the lower Gulf of Maracaibo and on the coasts of the Goajira territory and Paraguana. They employed Indians as divers. Revolutionary troubles during the last twenty-five years so demoralized the Indians, that the industry was finally broken up. Reports from authoritative sources indicate, that not only could paying fisheries be established here, but that the interior is rich in minerals and precious stones. Until lately there have been few restrictions upon fishing along the Venezuelan coast beyond a tax of fifty dollars imposed by local authorities upon the buyers and the payment of fifteen bolivars ($2.90) by each boat for a fishing permit at Margarita. The oysters of this coast mature rapidly and like those of Ceylon live but six or seven years. They are small and the shells are so thin that they can be crushed between the fingers. They are of the Lingah type and are named by some avicula squamulosa. The nacreous lining is also very thin, but lustrous and beautifully iridescent. The pearls run small and very many of them are quite yellow. Many fine white pearls are found however, though they incline frequently to a waxy luster and are often marred by chalky spots. Great quantities of baroques, notably beautiful for color and orient, are found. Round pearls with a china-like skin in many colors are also quite common. The average size and quality is not equal to those of the Indian waters, though it is much better than is generally credited, as the traders in this country for some inexplicable reason have an idea that Venezuelan pearls are necessarily poorer than others. This notion has probably been fostered among American buyers by the Parisian dealers who at present well nigh control the output of these fisheries and naturally fear the diversion to a neighboring market which now pays a heavy toll to Paris on pearls taken from this continent. It is true an unusually large percentage of cracked pearls is found among Venezuelans, and they lose perceptibly in weight after being brought from the fisheries the loss averaging fully one-eighth of one per cent., nevertheless many pearls of the finest quality are taken from these fisheries. All pearls are subject to slight variations in weight. It was from the fisheries of Colombia that Philip II. of Spain received the large pearl of 250 carats, about the size and shape of a pigeon’s egg, so often mentioned in the chronicles of precious stones. The management of the pearl fisheries of the Colombia of to-day is in the hands of the central bank of Colombia which is empowered to transact business pertaining to property belonging to the government. This institution holds a public auction and awards the lease of the rights to fish for pearls, coral, etc., on the Colombian coasts of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, to the most desirable bidder. The lessee must be governed by the rules and regulations laid down by the bank. The lease is for five years and went into effect August 1st, 1906. New pearl oyster-beds were discovered in 1903 in the Gulf of Campèche near Coatzacoalcos and application was made by a Mexican to the Mexican government for a concession to work them. There are extensive beds, which are constantly fished, along the eastern coast of Lower California from its junction with the United States to Cape San Lucas. La Paz is the principal centre of the fisheries. An English syndicate has a concession from the Mexican government which was lately renewed, for fishing about La Paz. Pearls worth $350,000, among them many fine black pearls, and five thousand tons of shells valued at $1,250,000, were taken in 1904. This syndicate employs all the modern appliances. Beds are known and worked from La Paz to and about the island of Loreto on the east coast, and at the island of Tiburon over on the East side of the gulf, and from Mazatlan all along the coast of Mexico proper to the boundary line of Guatemala. These beds were discovered by Cortez in 1536 and were worked spasmodically for two centuries; then for a period they were fished so constantly and thoroughly that the market was over-loaded with pearls and the supply of oysters seriously diminished. Of late years fishing has been again carried on systematically and with sufficient judgment to prevent the immediate destruction of the beds as before. A pearl oyster-bed ten miles long has lately been located at the Punta de Santa Cristoval. The Mexican season for fishing varies in localities from May to November, or June to December. The day’s work of the diver commences at near the ebb tide and ends shortly after the beginning of the flood tide, about three hours in all. Much fishing is done by independent naked native divers, in a manner similar to that of the Hindus and Arabs, but some of the large concessionaires supply their divers with helmets and other modern appliances. Schooners of various sizes having several boats, carry the fishing parties to the banks and the men live on them through the entire season. The daily catches are delivered to an armed boat which carries the oysters ashore, where they are at once searched for pearls. These when found are immediately sorted and valued, a percentage going to the diver in addition to his wages, if he is a regular employee of the Company. The oysters are found adhering to rocks by the byssus, generally in bunches, hinge-side down, curved side up and the shells slightly parted. The diver cuts them loose with a knife and deposits them in his basket or net. One hundred to a hundred and fifty is a good day’s work for a naked diver, but with the appliances now being introduced, a diver in dress can raise fully double that number. It should be remembered that there are elements of uncertainty and irregularity in the catch of the meleagrina. As compared with the enormous and crowded beds of the small varieties as they exist in the Gulf of Manaar and at the island of Margarita, Venezuela, where they can be literally scooped up, the scattered bunches of the meleagrina do not afford easy data for reckoning averages. On the coasts of China, Japan, Korea, some of the South Sea Islands, the English Channel islands, the Canary islands, about St. Malo on the coast of France, at Queen Charlotte’s island and along the coast of California from north of San Francisco to the border of Lower California, at the Cape of Good Hope, India, Australia and New Zealand, a shell-fish is taken which has considerable commercial value and yields pearls to a limited extent. It is called in this country abalone. In the Channel islands it is known as the ormer. It is the Haliotis or Earshell. The Greeks called it venus earshell and used it as a food, considering it most nutritious. Old English writers praised it as a delicious morsel under the name of ormond saying that it was bigger and infinitely better than the oyster. This shell-fish attaches itself to the rocks by a flat, disk-shaped foot and must be taken when the tide is low. The fisherman can then insert a knife by stealth under the foot and taking the fish unawares, destroy the suction. Otherwise the hold of the fish could not be broken without destroying the shell. New Zealanders call the fish itself the mutton fish. The Japanese, Chinese and Indians of the Pacific coast have long used it as an article of food. The shells are valuable on account of the very beautiful nacreous lining which is exceptionally good material for buttons and various ornamental purposes. The lining has an exquisite play of colors in the richest tones of peacock greens and reds. There are about seventy species of the Haliotis and the shells vary greatly in size. The British ormer (H. tuberculata) is of small size, about six inches long and is silvery. The shells are sometimes called in trade aurora shells. After being well beaten to make them tender the animals are used for food. The ormer or auris marina was esteemed by the ancients as a very sweet and luscious dish. The people of the Channel islands ornament their houses with the shells and farmers use them to frighten the birds from their corn-fields. They string several together and suspend them from the end of a slender pole stuck in the ground. The wind swaying them, makes a constant clatter. The Haliotis iris of New Zealand is green and brilliantly iridescent. A Cape of Good Hope species (H. Mida), under the epidermis is tinged with color, principally orange. Some of the more beautiful species were formerly very abundant on the coasts of China and Japan, but the constant use of the animal for many years as a food stuff has made them less common there and the Chinese and Japanese now obtain a large part of their supply from California, where the haliotis or abalone, as it is called is taken in great quantities. The two most beautiful species found on this coast are, the Haliotis splendens, a magnificent shell of rainbow coloring in which peacock green predominates, and H. rufescens, the lining of which is red. When found, the latter is usually thickly incrusted and coated with vegetation. The green and red range from seven to ten inches, the latter being generally the larger. Another variety, H. cracherodii, very dark green or black without, and with no apparent beauty, has a small opalescent bit inside the shell which is cut out and made into articles of jewelry. This is common in crevices of rocks. A variety called bluebacks has a bright clayey blue exterior. The Indians of the Pacific coast have used these shells as material for jewelry and decoration for centuries, but not until the button-makers of Europe and New York began to utilize them did they become an item of importance among the exports of the Pacific coast. Few pearls are found in the abalone but they vield a considerable number of large rounded baroques and excrescences, rich and beautiful in color and of fair luster, also odd-shaped pieces like blisters matched and joined at the edges. The greens have a bronze appearance and the reds and pinks are often iridescent. Quite a number of good “peelers” are found among them. These are pearly formations which can be improved by taking off one or more of the outer skins. Pearl-fishing, principally by Greeks, has been carried on about the west and south coast of Haiti, but lately the government has granted a concession to four of its citizens covering nine years with the privilege of renewal at the end of that period. This will prohibit all others from fishing unless they rent the privilege from the concessionaires. To the south of the Philippines, pearl-fisheries were worked by the natives before the rival of the Spaniards, and the industry is still carried on, chiefly by antiquated methods. The coasts of the Sulu islands, at Jolo and elsewhere and about the island of Mindanao, have yielded many fine pearls and continue to do so. The shells from these waters furnish very fine mother-of-pearl. All things considered, the largest and best equipped fisheries in the world to-day are those on the coast of Australia. Not as many pearls are found as at Ceylon. The main object of fishing is the shell, which is large, heavy, and furnishes the best quality of mother-of-pearl of the white variety. From Charlotte’s Bay on the north-eastern coast, all along the northern coast and around to Exmouth Gulf on the western coast, pearl-oysters are abundant, Farther south at Sharks Bay, the oysters are smaller and the pearls, though of good shape and luster, run yellow. Shells from the coast of Queensland are sold as Sydney shell; those from the northern territory of South Australia, as Port Darwin shell, and from there to Exmouth Gulf on the western coast, they are marketed as West Australian shell. The fishing is carried on by organized companies having capital, and every modern appliance of practical value is utilized. The divers fish with the dress. The usual method of fishing is for a schooner of eighty to one hundred tons to put out with a number of luggers of from eight to ten tons. Each lugger is manned by a captain, a cook, one man at the life-line, two men at the air-pumps and one diver. Each lugger will average half a ton of shells per month ranging from 1600 to 2000 to the ton. The pearls like the shells run white. The Australians are not only pushing this industry along their own coast, but are extending operations along the islands north toward the equator, wherever it is possible. And wherever they go they carry with them the best modern appliances and methods. Lately however operations have been considerably curtailed in the Torres straits owing to the enforcement of laws for the protection of divers. Lack of men for diving caused some of the operators to use questionable means to obtain a supply. Boats were sent through the South Sea among the islands and aborigines, Chinese, and even European sailors, were kidnapped and held in practical slavery. Many lives have been lost in these fisheries and the evils connected with the industry became so notorious that the government took action. It is probable that the business will be reorganized and either conducted by the state or under government supervision. Natives are now being trained to use the dress. Few pearls are found and it not infrequently happens that as many as fifteen to twenty tons of shells are raised without finding a single pearl of value. At this time shells from these fisheries bring from $500 to $750 per ton in the New York market. Helmets have been used to some extent throughout the Pacific for a number of years, but many were crude affairs, carelessly managed and the loss of life was as great as by naked-diving. The training of the natives to the use of the more modern appliances will however engender confidence and the probability is that dress-diving will become general in the south seas wherever the industry is organized. As a rule the largest oysters and pearls, where there is a calcareous foundation for the bed, are taken from the deeper waters, and it is probable that as modern appliances are more generally used by the larger organizations now taking hold of the industry, the fisheries will be extended with good results in many localities to waters beyond the shallows now fished. More systematic methods will prevent waste and the destruction of the beds. The English Colonial governments of India are doing much in this direction. By keeping experts upon the ground, they have learned how to fish without destroying the beds, and to fish when it is possible for the oysters to contain pearls. Strict supervision and protection of the beds result in more frequent fishings and greater returns to both the government and the fishermen. This example is being followed, and pearl fisheries are gradually coming either under governmental supervision or into the hands of concessionaires, whose large investment makes the preservation of the beds a business necessity, whether they fish mainly for pearls or shells. The best pearls and the largest number are found usually in mature shells which are distorted; it has been stated as a possibility, that in the future some of the new rays will be used in fisheries where the pearl is the main object of the fisher, to ascertain if the oyster contains any before destroying it. M. Dubois of Lyons has experimented with Roentgen rays for that purpose. As the fish is enormously prolific it is more probable however that effort will be directed instead toward the preservation of the mollusk from the enemies and accidents which are occasionally greater than its productiveness. One of the greatest dangers in Indian waters to a bed of young oysters is a little mollusk known locally in Ceylon as suran (Modiola). These cluster in masses on the sea bottom and spreading over the surface of the coral, crowd out the delicate young of oysters recently deposited. The Japanese fisheries suffer from the occasional infection of the waters by a weed, dinoflagellata gonyaulax. It accumulates in immense quantities, causing a wide discoloration of the sea water and is very destructive to an oyster-bed. It is called the red current or red tide. So far no preventive or remedy has been found. Hitherto the most general and fatal danger to oyster-beds has been the ungoverned extravagance of irresponsible fishers who seek to harvest in the present regardless of the future, but these are gradually being made amenable to restrictive laws as authorities awake to the value of the industry. A greater danger which threatens the unio of American streams, is the pollution of the water by the discharge of the refuse of factories and the sewage of cities into them. A mussel bed will recover in time when denuded by fishers, but sewage and poison kills it out entirely. Although fresh-water pearl-bearing mussels are found in the streams of many countries, only in the United States are they taken in sufficient quantities to make the fishings important as an industry. They are to be found throughout the Mississippi drainage area and in part of that of the St. Lawrence. Few exist on the Pacific coast and those of the Atlantic coast are generally inferior as pearl mussels. There are many varieties of the unio which yield pearls. Latin names are given by different writers to distinguish them, but as scientists differ in their classifications, the names are not always uniform and are not sufficiently well established to be useful, descriptively, to the general reader. In treating of the various kinds of pearl-bearing unios of the United States therefore in these pages, the common names by which they are known will as a rule be used with the scientific names appended, as revised by the department of mollusks of the United States National Museum. From the times of Roman colonization until now, pearls have been taken from the mussels of British streams. There are three varieties of pearl-bearing mussels in Great Britain: Painter’s mussel (U. pictorum), the Swollen River mussel (U. tumidus) and the Pearl mussel (U. margaritifera). The first two occur only in the streams and ponds of England and Wales and the pearls found in them are of inferior quality. The latter inhabits the streams of Scotland and the northern counties of England and to some extent are found in Ireland and Wales also. The shell is oblong, rather flat and heavy and about five and one-half inches long. The exterior surface is rough, and blackish-brown, the pearly interior has a tint of flesh color mottled by stains of dull green. It was from this variety the Perthshire Tay pearls were taken, which gained so much notoriety in the middle of the eighteenth century when some fifty thousand dollars worth were sent to London from this stream in three years. Scotch pearl-fishing was revived in 1860 and some fine ones were sold to Queen Victoria, the Empress of the French, the Duchess of Hamilton and others. Pearl-mussels have been found in Lochs Rannoch, Tay, Lubnaig and Earn, also in the Don, the Leith and other streams. Some are found in the Welsh streams, and the river Bann in Ireland was noted for the fine pearls found in it. Many years ago there was a pearl fishery at Omagh in the north of Ireland. An old writer claims that Cæsar obtained pearls of such bigness in Britain that he tried the weight of them by his hand. The fishers wade for them in shallow pools, or thrust sticks between the open valves, or drag branches over them, for as soon as anything enters between the two shells they close upon it at once. The mussels are found generally set up in the sand of the river-bed with the open side, if the current is very strong, turned away from it. The custom of the peasantry is to fish for them in the autumn after harvest. Pearl-mussels are found also in Saxony, Bavaria, Bohemia, Mesopotamia, Lapland, Canada, Labrador, the Hawaiian Island Oahu, Japan (especially the anodonta japonica), China, the United States and Italy, in the Gwaai and Shangani rivers of Southern Rhodesia, South Africa. Nowhere are they found however in such quantities or in so many varieties as in the United States. The number taken from the streams here of late years has been so great that the shells have largely displaced the marine Egyptian and have affected the demand for the better qualities of South Sea mother-of-pearl. The pearls found in them also have been of such quality and quantity that they now have an important place among the jewels of the world. Old records and the contents of Indian mounds show that the unio was taken from the rivers by the aborigines for the pearls they sometimes contained; but no wide interest in this possible wealth of the rivers appears to have developed among their white successors until the finding in 1857 of a large pearl weighing ninety-three grains at Notch Brook near Paterson, N. J. It was afterwards sold to the Empress Eugénie of France for $2500. This became noised abroad and immediately multitudes began to search for pearls. Mussels were gathered and destroyed by the million, few pearls being found. The excitement subsided as the searchers learned how few got adequate reward for their time and labor. They soon began to realize that the finding of a pearl of value is usually preceded by the opening of hundreds or thousands of shells containing none, and that in the aggregate, the shells thrown away were worth more than the few pearls found. Another pearl hunt developed along the Little Miami River in Ohio from the finding of several fine pearls near Waynesville in 1876. This reached its height in 1878. In 1880, pearls began to come into the New York market from the West and South. Immense beds have been fished in the White, Wabash and Ohio Rivers in Indiana. In the summer of 1889 a number of fine pearls were found in the southwestern corner of Wisconsin, in Crawford, Grant, Lafayette and Green counties. Not only were they notable for extraordinary luster, but many were of beautiful color. The sale of some at prices which seemed fabulous to the people of that section, when it became generally known, caused such a scramble for them by the natives that the streams were rapidly denuded of mussels, and that section has become of much less importance than others since developed. Prairie du Chien is the center of the Wisconsin market, from which point the shells are distributed to the button factories. The following year (1890) pearl-bearing mussels were found in several of the central counties of Illinois—McLean, Tazewell and Woodford, in the Mackinaw river and tributaries, but no discovery equalling that of Wisconsin occurred until 1897 when the Arkansas beds were discovered. A peculiarity of this district is that whereas the unio is usually most abundant in swift clear water having à sandy or gravelly bottom, many are found here in the mud. They have been taken over a wide territory from the rivers and streams of the eastern half of the state, including the Black, White, Cache, St. Francis, Quachita, Saline and Dorcheat rivers, and in the valley of the Arkansas. Following this were finds in Indian Territory, Missouri, Georgia and Tennessee, the latter being the most prolific. The finest pearls in Tennessee are found in the fluter, or lake shell, which is the same as the mussel known on the Wabash as the washboard. A yellow shell is found in the Clinch River similar to the mucket of Arkansas, from which pearls are taken. Unlike the pearl oyster, the unio seems to be more prolific of pearls in the shallows and riffles near the edges of the rivers. Most of the fine pearls are found between the pallial line and the lip in the free portion of the mantle. Those found within the pallial line, where the mantle is attached to the shell, are seldom as lustrous or perfect. Pearls are found in many States besides those mentioned, but the fishing is done quietly and in some cases the sources of supply are known to only a few who in the marketing of their pearls carefully avoid giving any information. This is particularly true of some of the eastern states. Streams in the Northwestern section of New York State are regularly fished, but without excitement. The large fisheries of the Mississippi and West are fished principally for the mother-of-pearl in the shells. As with some of the marine fisheries, the pearl is regarded as an extra. The mussels are taken in various ways. In Canada, boats drag brush and the branches of trees over the river bottoms, gathering the mussels into the boat as the twigs become clogged. In the large beds often found in our Western Rivers, fishing is done wherever possible by dredging. Metal scoops, hand, shoulder and scissor-rakes are used and the mollusks, taken in immense quantities are cooked to open them, then cleaned of the meat which is afterwards examined for pearls. This method is used where the mussels lie in great masses or on sandy bottoms. Where there are boulders or large stones, a great number of hooks are dragged over the beds. The mussels, partially buried, lie lip-end up and the shell slightly parted. Should anything come within this gaping aperture, the mussel at once closes upon it, nipping on with such tenacity that the hold is not loosed until the fisher draws it into the boat and forcibly releases the hook. It is said the mollusk’s shell would remain thus tightly closed for ten or twelve hours. After dragging the hooks over the bed, the mussels are taken off and the process repeated. Various rough devices are used, the principle in all being the same. One, illustrative, consists of a piece of lead pipe or an iron bar several feet long, from which depend a number of double or triple hooks several inches apart. This is dropped overboard, the rope on which it is hung is fastened to the stern of the boat, and the boatman rows over the mussel bed dragging it after him. Men who dredge for the mollusks are called clammers. Pearlers are those who at odd times fish for the mussels with pearls as the main object. This class is composed of the backwoods natives who live about the streams in which the mussels are found. They are people who usually follow their inclinations as nearly as they can, working only as it becomes requisite to obtain the few coarse necessities of their lives. With them also are small farmers who at seasons when farm work is not pressing, seek the excitement and possible profit of the hunt for pearls. For all such persons the occupation has a great fascination. The difficulties of following the streams through almost impenetrable surroundings, the coarse fare of bacon, meal and coffee; the long tramps back and forth to their mountain huts, or the exposure to night in the tangle of the woods, have no terrors for them; they are but common experiences. Few pearls of value are found, but the occasional pearl which each one does get, makes spectation tingle, and hope recounts again and again the great finds which others have made. There are curious happenings which illustrate the uncertainties of the work. It is told on the Clinch river in East Tennessee that a pearler, having patiently fished all day, examining the fish from time to time as little heaps of them were gathered, without finding even a small pearl, finally decided to quit. He was about to examine his last small heap when a man standing by offered him fifty cents for the lot. The offer was accepted. From the first shell opened, the buyer extracted a ball pearl which was afterwards sold for one thousand dollars. Two of the finest pearls taken one season from the same section were obtained from a heel-splitter, carelessly dug out of the sand by a man wading in the shallows of the river. The heel-splitter is a large thin-shelled variety, so named by the natives because of the sharp, cutting quality of the shell which protrudes from the sand of the river. They rarely contain pearls, but when they do, the pearls are usually fine. The largest proportion of fine pearls to the yield of any section since discoveries have been recorded, came from Wisconsin, and many of the best of these, especially of the fancy colored ones, were taken from Sugar river. Many of these were exceptionally beautiful in both color and luster and a good proportion of them were also round. Much is written and told of the marvellous pearls found in our streams worth large sums of money. Such pearls are found undoubtedly but not in such quantities as one might think from the enthusiastic reports current in daily papers. Finds are written up by reporters who know nothing of pearls and prefer to write a readable story of wondrous gems and great values to a statement of plain unvarnished facts. In this the news-gatherer is assisted by some simple native with an eye single to a good price and a capacity for exaggerated ideas of value impossible to Maiden Lane. It is no uncommon trick when buyers are present, to find again, a pearl, which has been to New York and back and the ruse often succeeds. Pearls are frequently sold at the fisheries for much more than they would bring in the east. In fact it is difficult to buy ordinary pearls at a reasonable price. The natives will sometimes sell a really fine pearl for less than it is worth because they do not understand the relative values of quality; but they usually over-estimate pieces of poor quality. A large majority of those found in our freshwater mussels fail in some essential quality. Many are chalky, or lustrous at one or two points only. Others are faulty in shape, or if spherical, deeply pitted. Really fine pieces are usually small or button, and when large, are baroques. Some of the latter are magnificent. Weighing fifty to over one hundred grains, with skins of extraordinary luster and iridescence, white, or of a beautiful pink tint, these strawberry or rose pearls, as they are called, frequently excel, by every standard of beauty, the imperfect spheres which command a greater price in the market because they are round. The most common variety of unio in American rivers, especially in the Mississippi river, is that known as the nigger-head (Quadrula ebena). It is also the principal species used for button-making. Similar is the warty-back (Quadrula pustulosa) so called because the shell has a number of warts or excrescences on the outside of the valves. The “bull-head” (Pleurobena Aesopus) is found in abundance with the nigger-head. It has a blackish-brown exterior, presenting several radiating ridges, and a white lining. The two latter are inferior as material for buttons as the shells are brittle. The mucket (Lampsilis ligamentinus) is a large shell, average size 4 inches, has a dark brown exterior and cream-white lining. It is too thin and brittle to make first class material for buttons though fine pearls are sometimes found in them. The sand-shells furnish good material for buttons. They are long, sometimes six inches, and narrow. They are usually found on sandy bottoms and are said to move from the channel toward the shores in the morning and back in the evening. The most abundant is the yellow sand-shell (Lampsilis anodontoides) so called from its bright yellowish brown exterior. Another kind, the black sand-shell (Lampsilis rectus) has a black epidermis. A smaller variety, less abundant now than formerly, is the slough sand-shell (Lampsilis fallaciosus). These are generally found in coves or the mouths of rivulets. The deer-horn or buckhorn (Tritigonia verrucosa) is a large variety, sometimes attaining a length of nine inches in the Iowa river, though the average in the Mississippi is about five inches. The shell, as the name indicates, has a rough, warty exterior. The supply is small and uncertain. Another rare species is the butterfly (Plagiola securis). It is a small, flat, thick shell of fine color, and the valves are butterfly in shape with a reddish-brown epidermis striped by darker radiating lines. It is abundant only in the Illinois and Ohio rivers. The hatchet-back, hackle-back, or heelsplitter (Symphynota complanata), is a large black mussel having a thin sharp-edged shell, one valve-edge projecting. It yields few pearls though fine specimens are occasionally found in this variety. The blue-point (Quadrula undulata) has a large, thick shell, with ridges on the exterior, curving round the umbones and ex extending to the edge. Like the black-edge meleagrina, the nacre at the edge is discolored. In this case by a bluish or purplish tint. Some idea of the enormous quantities of mussels contained in some of these beds in our wester rivers may be gained from the reports of the fisheries in the first years of their discovery. Ten thousand tons of shells were taken in three years near New Boston, Ill., from one bed. Reckoned by the usual average this would mean not less than 100,000,000 shells. In some beds, the mussels have been found several feet deep, the bottom layers being dead. Notwithstanding the enormous numbers, these beds are often completely exhausted in a few seasons. When the beds are first discovered, men will take as much as 1500 to 2000 pounds of shell each, in a day’s fishing. In one hundred pounds of shells as they are taken, the average number of valves or half shells will be, nigger-heads, about one thousand; sand-shells, nine hundred; muckets, eight hundred, which would be an average of nine thousand mussels per ton. The meat in a ton of nigger-heads weighs over three hundred pounds. This is usually removed by the fishermen by boiling the mussels for ten or fifteen minutes in crude sheet iron tanks when the shells open and the fleshy part falls out or may be easily removed by hand. To show how little the pearls they may contain enter into the calculations of these fishermen, it may be stated here that the shell buyers pay about twenty-five per cent. less for the mussels as taken from the river than they do for the shells when cleaned. On the Californian coast when the divers worked independently, they preferred to sell the oysters unopened. They received about $4.50 per thousand on an average for the shells and double for the oysters complete. The fishing season for pearlers is from August to December. The large operations for shell, in the early days of the industry, were confined to the same period, but of late, fishing is carried on throughout the year, immense quantities being taken through the ice. The shells are better in cold weather, being less brittle than when exposed in the boats during warm weather. Fishing through the ice is very wasteful however, as the undersized, which are dropped back from the scoops and rakes in the summer, when thrown out on the ice are allowed to remain there and die. The price of shells varies considerably from season to season. An average price for nigger-heads is about ten dollars per ton, sand-shells bring about twice as much, muckets half that price, and the other varieties together will average about twenty-five per cent. more than nigger-heads, though among these the deer-horn is worth about four times as much as the nigger-head. In the first six months of 1898 nearly four thousand tons of mussel shells were sold by mussel fishermen on the Mississippi. They brought about thirty-nine thousand dollars, 94 per cent. of these were nigger-heads. The spawning time of the unio varies with different species. In the central Mississippi basin it is normally February, March and April for nigger-head, and summer and early fall for the mucket and sand-shell. The unio is a slow growing animal. Under normal conditions it takes ten years for a nig head to reach a size of three inches; fifteen to eighteen years to attain a shell diameter of 4½ inches. This corresponds very closely with the life of the meleagrina, though the shell of the latter ceases to grow in size at about eight or ten years. After that it continues to lay on thickness up to eighteen or twenty years. Although the discoveries so far in Africa are unimportant, it is possible, now that the unio is known to exist there, that the streams of that wonderful land of precious things may add a companion gem to the vast natural hoards there of the diamond. In two years succeeding his first find, the discoverer secured one hundred and fifty pearls at an average of one pearl to eight hundred shells. Authorities tell us that the nucleus of a mussel-pearl is usually the larva of a distoma. Nuclei of pearls vary according to the circumstances surrounding the beds of the shell-fish and those circumstances have much to do with the occurrence of the pearl.
PRICE
Value, except in things which are constant and constantly changing hands, is a matter of opinion. Price is the expression of that opinion in money terms. Except in a few staple sizes and qualities, pearls are affected by so many details which determine their value that it is difficult to formulate rules to correspond and establish a base by which all may be judged. Shape, size, color, luster, and perfection, afford a multiplicity of combinations sufficient to puzzle the judgment of the most expert, and when to this is added the fact that there is no other one like the piece to be valued so as to auge opinion, there remains but one finality, the agreement between buyer and seller on a price. Disregarding the fluctuations of price occasioned by temporary influences and the variations arising from local causes, this chapter is intended to give information of the price of pearls in the United States to retail dealers, and an idea of the relative value of different qualities and shapes. First it should be remembered that the price of pearls is reckoned by the square of the weight, with the pearl-grain, 1/4 carat, as the unit. Given the price at $3.00 per grain base or multiple, a half grain pearl would be half of $3.00 or $1.50 per grain flat, or seventy-five cents for the pearl. At the same price a one grain pearl would be at $3.00 per grain multiple, $3.00 per g ain flat and $3.00 for the pearl. Upon the same basis a two grain pearl would be twice three are six, $6.00 per grain flat and twice six are twelve, $12.00 for the pearl. Or it may be stated thus: multiply the grain number by itself and the product by the base price, as a 6 gr. pearl at $3.00 base, 6 x 6=36 x 3=108 dollars, the price of the pearl. This rule ap plies to all but rejections or those too poor for classification, and extraordinary pieces which by their extreme rarity pass beyond the governance of rules. The sign used in quoting a multiple price is a square. This placed after a price quoted means that it is the multiple price per grain, not the flat grain price. The price of pearls has increased even more than that of diamonds in the last fifteen years. In common with many other things it has risen with the rapid increase of wealth and the tremendous additions to the world’s stock of the standard or measure of values,—gold. Beyond this, the demand for pearls, owing to the adoption of them as a fashion in the United States where a large proportion of the world’s wealth is being created, has been stimulated to such a degree that the price of them has advanced in a greater ratio to the depreciation of gold and other forms of wealth than most commodities. Twenty years ago good round Indian pearls up to five grains could be bought for $1.50 base; to-day such pearls would cost $4.50 base and whereas in those days pieces of extraordinary luster were allowed to remain in the parcels and were sold at the same rate with the others, they are now culled from the lots and held for extraordinary prices. Size also now counts beyond the multiple of the square. The quality held at $4.50 base up to five grains costs $6.00 above that size, and at ten grains will bring $8.00 and over. The yield of fine white pearls in sizes over ten grains is not large and as there has been and is a steady demand for large pearls for the centres of necklaces, sizes from ten to fifteen grains bring from eight to eleven dollars multiple when matched. Egg and pear-shaped pearls of the same grade, from five grains down, are worth twenty-five to thirty per cent. less than round pearls; between five and ten grains ten to fifteen per cent. less, and as they near fifteen grains and over the pear-shape become of equal value with the round. Imperfections which can be hidden by the setting decrease the price twenty to thirty per cent., and there is about the same difference between button and round pearls, according to the size of the plane. The difference is still greater in the larger sizes. A yellow color reduces the value in the market from fifteen to fifty per cent, according to the depth and quality of the tint. The so-called blue pearls, which are of a dark leaden white, are worth about half as much as ordinary white, and about one-third the price of fine white Indians. These blue pearls must not be confounded with the deep gray, slate, or black pearls, included in the general term black pearls, as the latter frequently command fancy prices. Salt-water pearls taken from the smaller varieties of the avicula of some seas, though of the same grade in the qualities of color, luster and shape, are nevertheless worth less than Indian pearls, because they lack a certain quality of texture which the latter, together with those of some other waters, possess to an eminent degree. American fresh-water pearls have been and are lower in price than Orientals. They have however commanded much better prices of late than formerly and are increasing in value. At present they bring about one-third less than corresponding qualities from the seas. There is a greater difference in the price of baroques. Fine Venezuelan baroques from a half to seven or eight gr grains are worth now thirty-five to fifty cents base. Some of these when mounted appear like round or pear-shape pearls and are in good demand. Larger pieces can rarely be made to appear other than baroque and do not therefore command as good figures. They seldom bring more than five dollars per grain flat, in sizes from ten to twenty grains. Fresh-water pearls likewise fetch better prices reckoned by the multiple in the smaller sizes, though they are usually quoted by the grain flat at five to twenty-five cents under ten grains, and twentyfive cents to three dollars per grain in larger sizes. Iridescent, finely tinted, very lustrous, strawberry, and rose baroques of large size, are worth five dollars per grain and very exceptional pieces bring even more. Slugs, or ordinary baroques, are sold all the way from six dollars an ounce to ten cents per grain. Good wing pearls can be bought at one to five cents per grain; small wings and rejections are sold by the ounce. Perfectly round fresh-water pearls of good quality and even skin are rare and prices are advancing steadily. Good buttons have advanced fully twenty-five per cent. in the last year. Fine fancies such as were found at one time in the Sugar River, Wisconsin, since the fisheries there have been exhausted, are scarce and high. The low prices paid by button manufacturers for mussel shells for the mother-of-pearl in them during the past year, has been one of the chief factors in reducing the quantity of pearls found and the consequent increase of price. It seldom pays the fisher to gather mussels for pearls only; it is the steady returns from the sale of the shells which ensures an adequate reward for his labors. Shells that once brought twenty dollars per ton fell during the early part of 19os to a third of that amount and later went as low as two dollars and a half. They are now going up again. Many pearls are seriously injured by the practice of fishers who rely upon the sale of the shells for their returns, of throwing the mussels into vats of hot water to open them. The pearls released from the shells fall to the bottom and getting too near the hot iron are killed, which means that the luster is partially or wholly destroyed. Dredging is now quite common and is doing much to deplete the mussel-beds of the west. When one bed is completely divested of shells, the clammer moves on to another and repeats the process, so that the supply of fresh-water pearls is coming to depend on the constant discovery of new mussel-beds. Unless legislation regulates the industry the American supply will soon cease. The cheapest fresh-water pearls in the market to-day are the finest. The pearlers along the reams of the west and south will no longer part with the pearls they find to the speculators at the old time prices. In fact they generally want much more than they are worth and often get more than the speculator can afford to pay to ensure a profit when he comes to sell them in the business centres. But these fishers know little of the merits and value of the finer qualities. They do not yet realize the great difference in value which accrues as the pearl exceeds the average of luster, color, or perfection, consequently the speculator can often buy a very fine pearl for little more than he would have to pay for an ordinary pearl and though he knows that the piece is worth much more than he has paid, and tries to get as nearly what it is worth as he can, both his judgment and disposition to sell are affected by the low price he has paid and the chances are that he too in turn will sell it at much less than its relative value as compared with the ordinary market price of poor or medium quality goods. This condition will gradually change. As in the past the fisher learned more and more of the market value of ordinary pearls, so also he will learn to know the price of exceptional pieces and to know them when he has them. Even now, speculators hold fine large pearls at high prices because of the ready sale for them in Europe. It is difficult to compare the price of pearls in ancient times with that of to-day. We make much finer and closer assortments and gradations of quality and the business now is on a more distinctly commercial basis. People generally are better informed and more critical; they are not influenced by wonder, sentiment, superstition and the “Arabian Nights” atmosphere, as much as formerly. The Orient is not as strange and far away as it was. In the old times, jewellers could and undoubtedly did take advantage of the awe with which things from the mysterious East were regarded, and of the general ignorance, to obtain large sums for very ordinary if not inferior gems. Even in these days, many are influenced more by the source from whence they come than by a critical knowledge of the gems they buy. Some, who would not buy the most beautiful fresh-water pearl, will pay an exorbitant price for one poorer and less valuable because it is oriental. La Pellegrina in the hands of an obscure dealer would be passed unnoticed by many who would be enraptured by a more ordinary gem from a jeweller or person of renown. It is presumable therefore that prejudice was more influential when ignorance prevailed to a greater extent than now. John Spruce of Edinburgh in 1705 complained that he could not sell a necklace or pendant of fine Scotch pearls in Scotland. He says “the generality seek for oriental pearls because farther fetched,” and continues: “At this very day I can show some of our own Scots pearls as fine, more hard and transparent than any oriental. It is true that the oriental can be easier matched, because they are all of a yellow water, yet foreigners covet Scots pearls.” The price in those days was regulated by general appearance and loosely with regard to weight, rather than by definite assortment and the exact system of reckoning by the multiple of the weight as now, for he says, “If a Scotch pearl be of a fine transparent color and perfectly round and of any great bigness, it may be worth 15 to 50 rix dollars, yea I have given 100 rix dollars (about $82.00 U. S.) for one.” In 1862, Scotch pearls sold for about seventyfive cents to ten or twelve dollars each, an extraordinary piece bringing occasionally as much as twenty-five dollars, but after they were brought to the favorable notice of persons of distinction and it was known that Queen Victoria had bought one for one hundred and ten dollars, the price of them quadrupled. In the time of Charles II. of England an Irish pearl weighing 144 grains was valued at two hundred dollars. In London during the early part of the nineteenth century, pearls from Panama of good size and quality brought about four dollars per grain. About 1865, fine oriental pearls were sold in London for $1.25 to $1.50 per grain in sizes up to three grains. Over that the price increased gradually with the size so that five grainers were worth about $2.50 per grain; ten grainers, $5.50 per grain; twenty grainers $13.00 per grain and thirty grainers about $17.00 per grain. If their fine grade equalled ours, there has been a remarkable advance in the last forty years, as fine oriental round pearls of thirty grains to-day, are worth in the United States $240.00 per grain flat. Up to this time and after, prices were quoted very generally by the carat. Later, the method of reckoning by the square or multiple became more general, and the price went to about two dollars per carat, in London, or fifty cents per grain base for ordinary sizes, the larger ones being valued by the piece according to the individual rarity and particular qualities, as before. At the Navigator’s islands in 1858, fine round pearls of one to two grains were valued at about fifty cents per grain, the price increasing until those of twenty grains were considered worth twenty dollars per grain. Second class pearls under one grain, averaging half a grain, were sold for about five cents a grain. The same grade about nine grains average, were worth about sixty-five cents per grain. A third and fourth grade brought about twenty-five and fifty per cent. less respectively. These prices, compared with those of London, indicate that fine, large, round pearls commanded better prices then in the East than they did in Europe. Seed pearls sold at Tahiti for ten to fifteen dollars per pound. The island of Labuan, a British possession in the East Indian archipelago, shipped pearls to Singapore in the sixties at an average price of ten to fifteen cents per grain. In 1871, 35 ounces of pearls shipped from Guayaquil were valued at $100.00 per ounce. As in former times, at many places where the fishing is done by independent naked divers, especially among the remote islands of the South Sea, there is no grading of pearls or definite ideas of value. The natives dispose of their pearls, as they are able, to traders, often for a very small price. It is so to-day at many points in the Sulu archipelago from Mindanao to the Tawi Tawi islands. The smaller established fisheries of the seas east of China assort roughly and sell in bulk to buyers from neighboring trading center The output of the large fisheries is practically controlled by the great merchants of neighboring cities who know the methods and intricacies peculiar to the localities. For instance, the pearls of Ceylon go to Madras, and Bombay handles the bulk of those from the Arabian coast and the Red Sea. Lower California pearls are marketed chiefly at La Paz. Those from Venezuela are shipped principally to Paris and definite figures cannot be obtained. A few are brought to the United States direct from Venezuela, chiefly by Syrians who barter for them with the independent divers. These traders have no knowledge of market rates for assorted goods but sell them in mixed lots for as much as they can get. The price of pearls of the first grade, in Ceylon in 1904, weighing four grains and upwards each, was about $5.00 per grain. At Macassar, prices for the irregular shaped pearls of the Dutch Indies ranged from twenty-five cents to $1.25 per grain base according to quality. At the Ceylon fisheries, two-thirds of the oysters taken have been the government’s share. These were auctioned off daily. The prices varied considerably, not only from fishing to fishing, but daily during the season. If the oysters sold one day, yielded well, prices went up and vice versa. In 1860, at the beginning of the Tinnevelly fishery, they realized Rs 15. ($7.50) per thousand and rose later to Rs 40. ($20.00). In 1861 on the contrary they sold in the early part of the season for $35.00 to $40.00 and fell to $20.00, at one time touching $8.50. In 1871, the Tuticorin catch brought a little over $40.00 per thousand average. The average price paid in 1858 at the Ceylon fisheries was a little less than ten dollars, and as the pearl yield was good, the speculators made enormous profits. In consequence, the average of 1859 went up to $22.50, the oysters bringing at one time during the season as much as $42.00; 1860 realized an average of $66.00, the highest price paid during the season being $90.00. The fishery of 1863 though it realized more for the government on account of the large catch, brought an average of $33.50 per thousand only. In 1874 the oysters brought about $40.00 per thousand. Of late years the average has been less, ranging from $12.00 to $14.00 though at times double that price has been paid. The pearls found in the oysters came quickly into the hands of Hindu merchants who assorted them and shipped a large part to Europe at prices much less than those which rule in the United States, though they usually made a good profit over cost. With the leasing of the Ceylon fisheries much of this speculative business will undoubtedly be eliminated and the pearls marketed at more regular prices. At fisheries where mother-of-pearl is the chief factor of the industry, it is difficult to get statistics of the number or value of the pearls found, but in a general way India governs the market. Prices in other sections adjust themselves to Madras and Bombay with such modifications as quality and place would naturally make. Mother-of-pearl shell varies in price from $250.00 to $500.00 per ton for Mexican to $700.00 to $800.00 per ton for the white shell of Australia and the South Sea.
IMITATIONS AND DOCTORED PEARLS
In common with all other precious things, pearls have been long imitated. The early method of making imitation or “mock-pearls” as they were called, was to cut them out of the mother-of-pearl and polish them. Another crude way was to make solid beads of glass containing various ingredients which gave them a slight similarity to the nacreous luster of the pearl. Beads of gypsum or alabaster were soaked in oil and coated with wax. The scales of the bleak fish dissolved in liquid ammonia or vinegar, was also used for covering beads, the solution imparting a somewhat pearly appearance. To coat one thousand ounces of glass beads, a French manufacturer used three ounces of fish-scales, one ounce white wax, one ounce pulverized alabaster and half an ounce fine parchment glue. Another made beads of opal glass which he covered with several layers of isinglass; over this was laid another coating of a mixture of spirits of turpentine and copal, and a fat oil to exclude moisture from the isinglass, following it with a thin layer of tinted enamel to give resemblance to the orient of the pearl. Some claimed that the best artificial pearls were made from pulverized pearls. Seed pearls or valueless baroques were ground to a fine powder, soaked in lemon-juice or vinegar and mixed with gum tragacanth. The paste after being shaped and partially dried, was then enclosed in a loaf and baked in an oven. The luster was obtained by a final coating of fishscale solution. A lighter and better imitation was made by blowing hollow glass beads. The inside surface was covered with a preparation from the fish-scales, after which the bead was filled with wax. This method continues in use to-day. The fish-scale solution used is a guanine, the mucus which lubricates the scales of the bleak fish (alburnus lucidus). The white scales of the fish are carefully scraped into a horse-hair sieve over a shallow tub of fresh water. The first water is thrown away. The scales are then washed and pressed. The mucus sinks to the bottom and is gathered as an oily mass, very brilliant and bluish-white. This is packed with ammonia in tin boxes and sealed for shipment. It takes about 20,000 fish to make one pound of the mucus. A cheap imitation pearl is made of opal glass, a bluish-white milky appearing material, to which a pearly effect is given by treating it with fluoric acid. Imitation black pearls are made from hematite, but as they require careful finishing to hide the metallic luster and are much heavier than pearls, they are seldom used. The Chinese and Japanese have been much more ingenious in their methods and have long produced, with enforced aid from the animal, imitations which are in part real pearl. The former insert in the Chinese pearl-mussel (anodonta herculea) small figures of Buddha upon which the fish proceeds to deposit its nacre. When they are coated, which occurs in from one to two or three years, the pearly figures are extracted and sold to the devout. The Japanese do more. They attempt to produce a marketable gem and have so far succeeded that a considerable number have been sold of late in the United States and in many cases the public buy them not knowing that they are an artificial production. The base upon which the nacre is deposited appears to be composed of a substance resembling porcelain shaped like a low dome hollowed out on the under side and having a hole in the centre of the cavity. As there is no nacre on the under side, it must, when the button is placed in the mussel, be thereby protected from the action of the fish except at the edges where the nacreous deposit probably joins it to the shell but in such a manner that it can be easily detached. The pearl covered button is then fitted to a piece of polished mother-of-pearl of the same exterior size and shape and the two are neatly joined, forming a double low domed piece of pearl on one side, and mother-of-pearl on the other. These Japanese pearls as they are called, c when mounted in a setting constructed to hide the under side, have the appearance of imperfect spheres of natural pearl. The beds where the culture of these artificial pearls is carried on, are situated in the Bay of Ago, a few miles south of the Temple of Ise, in central Japan on the Pacific side. It is a quiet piece of water, in a coast broken by numerous inlets and coves. A little north of the centre of the bay is a small island called Tadoko where the necessary buildings and the men connected with the industry are. Around the island and near it, about 1,000 acres of sea bottom are leased and used for the pearl oyster cultivation. The water is about five to seven fathoms deep. The oyster used is the one common to the waters of Japan, the Avicula martensii Dunker. In May and June, stones weighing six to eight pounds are scattered over the bottom of the sheltered shallows which run up into the land, where the spat is collected. The breeding season is in July to August and in the latter month very tiny shells attached to the stones by the byssus may be seen already. The number increases as the season advances until in November, in order to protect the young fish from the approaching winter cold, the stones lying in very shallow water are removed with the adhering oysters to deeper water—over six feet. After three years the oysters are taken out and the nuclei of the culture pearl inserted. This done, they are spread over the sea bottom, about one to every square foot and left undisturbed for four years. They are then taken out and opened and both the culture pearls and whatever natural pearls there may be, are harvested. At present, upwards of a quarter of a million oysters are treated annually. Experiments are being made constantly, in the United States and Europe, to improve upon the hollow glass bead lined with fish-scale but so far without success. The finest of these imitate the natural pearl very well and if finely mounted similar to the genuine, will deceive many while worn. Closer observation will reveal the glassy shine of the surface and it will be found under the loup to contain numerous small holes. The specific gravity is also less. One finds occasionally in lots, a mock-pearl which has been cut and polished from the mother-of-pearl, but imitations of this character are scarce and find no place in the market. The few made are found usually in parcels of freshwater pearls and are put there by unscrupulous dealers, as also are hematite balls and even buckshot, to be sold with the lot by weight as genuine pearls. Since the price of pearls has advanced so rapidly, much ingenuity has been shown in the improvement of poor pearls. Button pearls grown to the shell are broken out and the under or flat side carefully scraped and smoothed to hide the irregular lines of juncture between the pearl and the shell. Protuberances on the surface of round pearls are scraped off and the broken skin edges smoothed down so as to be unnoticeable to the naked eye. In a like manner chalky rings and spots are toned down. Surface cracks are filled by soaking the pearls in a solution and if the pearl has been pierced, interior cracks can also be rendered unobservable. A serious objection to pierced pearls arises from the ease with which interior defects can be doctored where the skin is pierced and a boring made through the nacreous layers. Not only are cracks made to disappear, but coloring matter can be introduced between the skins. A white pearl of very poor color can by such means be changed temporarily into a black pearl which will command a fancy price. This illegitimate doctoring of pearls, whereby defects are hidden and a fictitious appearance of quality imparted to last long enough to make sales at exorbitant prices, should not be confounded with the legitimate improvement of pearls which is now growing to be an industry of some importance. Experts are now able by careful manipulation to restore to some extent the luster which has been lost by wear or age. Formerly this was done by skinning the pearl, i.e., removing the outer skin by peeling it carefully off with the edge of a sharp knife, an unsatisfactory method at best, as the under skin may not be good and if all the outer skin is not taken off, the broken edges of the layers composing the skin, mar the luster and color when the pearl is worn. Few also succeed in removing a skin without scratching the new one disclosed by its removal. Pearls having a decidedly bad outer skin with a good one under it, can only be materially improved by removing the bad skin, but owing to the liability of finding equally bad imperfections underneath, or irregularities which would necessitate the removal of several skins with a consequent loss of size and weight, pearls with minor imperfections or lack of luster are now slowly rubbed between the fingers, the abrasion being assisted by various substances which differ with the judgment and experience of the operator, the preparation being in all cases kept secret by the expert using it. Many fine pearls which have lost their pristine luster are now considerably improved by this method, and without the dangers involved and the necessary loss of weight, consequent on peeling. Large numbers of poor or imperfect pearls are scraped or otherwise doctored by the traders and speculators at the fisheries. These men acquire such pearls at a slight cost, and by various methods fix them so that by mixing them in lots with good pearls, they often make large profits. They also mix in many cracked pearls. This is done more often at Margarita and the other Venezuelan fisheries where the proportion of cracked pearls is greater than in the Indian and South Sea fisheries. The skins of a pearl may also be removed by the application of weak acids, but this method requires careful and expert handling or the acid will act irregularly and leave the surface, if improved in luster, uneven and pitted. Few important fresh-water baroques and irregular pearls leave the west without receiving the attention of the speculators through whose hands they pass, and the scraping is often very roughly done. Rough and discolored projections are broken or filed off and then scraped over with a knife edge. While fresh, the broken skin edges left thus will often pass unnoticed by a careless buyer, but they become discolored and dead later. Unless one buys of a dealer in whom implicit confidence may be placed, not alone for honesty but for his knowledge of pearls, it is better to examine all pearls under a glass before purchasing As many persons both in the trade and out of it, are not sufficiently familiar with pearls to be quite sure of their ability to detect the genuine from fine imitations, the following points of difference will be of service. All imitation pearls made of some solid material are heavier than the genuine and lack the pearly characteristics of the fine imitations even. If made of solid glass without acid finish, they are shiny and too poor to require a second consideration, if acid finished they have a “ground-glass” appearance which is unmistakable. If made of other material of a vitreous nature, they are heavier than pearls, dull in luster or without luster, dark in color and unmistakably lacking in pearly characteristics. The only dangerous imitations are the Japan culture pearls and the hollow, glass bead-pearls. The former may always be recognized by the mother-of-pearl back, the latter by various signs. All these hollow glass beads, have one or two holes. They are coated on the inside with fish-scale solution and filled with wax. Some are treated with acid or sand-blasted to tone down the shiny, glassy appearing surface, and to hide the blow-holes in the glass. The effect is quite pearly, but the color is somewhat darker and they show some iridescence. Without the surface treatment they are more shiny and under the loup one will discover the small blow-holes peculiar to surfaces which have been molten. The rims of the holes have a smooth, rounded, congealed appearance, whereas holes in pearls have a rough, square, chalky edge. On looking diagonally into the hole of a glass bead, the glass will appear as a dark ring against the wax filling, and where there are two holes, one will almost invariably have a ring in the glass, a short distance from and around it. The surface over the ring is smooth, though it looks as if it were ridged; the ring is in the glass, not on it. These hollow-blown glass pearls are lighter than the real pearls also. There is one never failing test however which discovers even the best of these most dangerous imitations. Drop a small spot of ink from the point of a pen upon one, and hold it between the eye and the light, when two spots will appear, the one nearest to the eye being a reflection from the inner wall of the glass resting against the wax, of the actual ink spot on the surface. The duplicate spot will be lighter in color than the original. On a real pearl there would be no such reflection, nor would it appear on a solid bead imitation, but as before stated, the weight of the latter betrays them, as they are heavier than the real, nor do they look as pearly, and on holding them between the eye and light they do not show the translucency at the edge of the circumference peculiar in a more or less degree, to the gem.
FACTS AND FANCIES
In ancient days there was a belief in the east that at the full of the moon the pearl-oyster rose to the surface of the sea and opened its shell to receive the falling dew-drops. These congealing, hardened into pearls. Similarly, the natives of India believed that Buddha in certain months showered upon the earth, dewdrops from heaven, which the oyster, floating on the waters to breathe, received and held until they hardened and became pearls. These poetical imaginations of the Orientals were carried west with the pearls. Poets embodied them in verse. Prose writers, losing the poetry of the fable, trimmed them to the bare statements of impossible facts. An English writer early in the eighteenth century speaking of the mussels in the streams of northern England said that “gaping eagerly and sucking in their dewy streams they did conceive and bring forth a great plenty of pearls.” Later writers also attributed the origin of pearls to the reception of raindrops from heaven by the oyster, and one gravely asserted that the fishermen always found more pearls after a season of heavy rains. He did not state that the oysters rose to the surface of the sea to receive the raindrops, neither did he explain how these drops from heaven passed through the brine to the oyster inviolate. Pliny was more definite; he stated that the quality of the pearls varied with that of the dew from which they were formed and were clear or turbid as it was. The pearl would be pale-colored if the weather was cloudy when the dew fell into the shell, and large if the dew was plentiful. Thunder during the reception of the drop resulted in a hollow pearl and if lightning caused the shell to close suddenly the pearl would be small. The people of Java and Borneo had a belief which should have been yet more difficult to acquire. They asserted that the pearls themselves breed and increase in number if placed in cotton. Clusters of twinned pearls were said to be produced thus, and it is related that some had the audacity to sell breeding pearls claiming to distinguish the male from the female. This fable also travelled west and was received by the credulous. M. S. Lovell in his “Edible Mollusks” says, “A Spanish lady informed a friend of mine that if seed pearls were shut up in cotton-wool they would increase either in size or in number.” To this day the ancient superstition, or belief. is believed not only by sea-board Malays, but by Europeans, and there are those who claim to own breeding pearls and to have bred from them. The pearls are placed in a box with a layer of cotton-seed and a few grains of rice, under and over them. The box is then closed and in a year, if one account given is a fair statement of average results, one may look for a four-fold increase, though the children will not be as large as the parents. Some of them may be as large as a pin head. The rice will look crumbly and worm-eaten. Another breeder of pearls says that the breeding pearls themselves grow in size and if the box has been kept undisturbed, there will be found with them at the end of the year others of various sizes, some almost microscopic. A year later these would be larger. It is also said that when a pearl is about to breed, a small black speck makes its appearance on the surface, and that during the period of breeding the pearl changes its shape from a sphere to an irregular ovoid, and develops layers of scales on the surface visible to the naked eye. After a time, the breeding pearls change their orient to a dirty white, the scales having peeled off. In all cases the rice looks as though some beetle had taken a circular bite out of the end of each kernel. Somehow a perusal of the accounts of the remarkable results, leaves the reader with a conglomerate impression of transformed rice and imagination. Nevertheless, the breeding of pearls in cottonwool or cotton-seed with rice, is asserted and believed, and the methods by which the wonder is accomplished may be had with great circumstance and some variations from those who have experimented. No greater evidence exists of the child-like faith of people in the old times than the incredible stories about precious stones which were current in those days. It is equally wonderful that although it took centuries to disprove them, they received credence for more centuries after they were shown to be impossible and one hears those same delightful fairy stories about angel’s tears, drops of dew from heaven, raindrops, etc., seriously quoted in this matter-of-fact land to-day, often by people who after a moment’s thought would become conscious of their fallacy. But romance abhors reason, and though oysters cannot rise to the surface of the sea, nor raindrops pass immaculate through the ocean to the gaping mollusks, nor the downpour of one season increase the yield at once of things which are the growth of years, there will long remain some who will refuse the dictum of the biologist, that unless the dews of heaven and the tears of angels carry much lime in solution, the calcareous surroundings of the oyster’s bed must have more to do with the genesis of the pearl than anything dropped into the ocean by the clouds above it, and will still cling to fancy in the face of fact. Meantime the priests of Buddha exact charity oysters from the fishers of their faith, that the god thus propitiated may cause the oysters to yield more pearls. A question often raised, and which by its periodical revival seems to be a favorite with newspapers and magazines, as well as, to the general public, is, “Do pearls live and die?” It originated probably in observations of certain changes that occasionally take place in pearls which could be readily construed by a speculative or imaginative mind to mean death. Sometimes with pearls the brilliancy of youth fades and passes and the clear skin of early days takes on the hue of age. If now a ready pen waited on fancy to state the facts it would establish an imaginative theory for centuries, for like gossip, a thing once printed in a book will long pass on unquestioned and be quoted or re-stated many times. There are pearls which for certain qualities invite as a descriptive term the word live. There are others which by comparison appear, and are described, as dead. Then there are others that lose by untoward circumstances the live qualities they once possessed and without dying become dead pearls. The calcite carbonate crystals of which they are formed dissolve in acids and are affected to a certain extent by the acidity of the excretions of the human skin, sufficiently in some cases to destroy, or at any rate dim, their luster. Gases in the atmosphere, sudden changes in temperature, heat, and various other influences operate more or less in the same direction. The chemical changes thus produced might with poetic license be called the death of the pearl and in a sense the term would be true were the whole pearl involved, but as a rule these misfortunes affect the outer skin of the pearl only, so if that dies death is but skin deep, a live pearl remaining beneath it. As life and death means the segregation of particles into a compact individuality and their final dissolution, pearls like all other things in the restless economy of nature live and die, but the loss of some of its native charms by the gem is not more a sign of death than the rougher cuticle of a weather beaten sailor with which exposure has replaced the smooth skin of the boy. Nevertheless the idea of death coming to the pearl fascinates and enterprising writers succeed in frequently placing very interesting and readable articles before the public which incite the wonderment of the reader and perpetuate the impression that this beloved gem is some sort of a living creature subject to human vicissitudes. Lately a story appeared in current publications which told how the pearls of a lady’s necklace sickened and lost their beauty. Much distressed she carried them to the expert dealer of whom she bought them who gravely advised her to let her maid wear them whereupon, they recovered from the illness and their lustrous beauty was restored. Twentieth century versions of fables older than this era are common; shrewd traders and writers use them, nor are they always careful to attach the fable to the particular gem to which, by right of ancient usage, it belongs. The magical loss of color in the presence of impending danger to its wearer is the ruby’s prerogative, but, though pearls may lose their charms by exposure to heat, gas and rough usage, the wily orientals of remote or later ages provided no traditional recovery more wonderful than the prosaic method of feeding them to fowls and cutting them out of the gizzard an hour or two later. The pearl is generally considered to be the emblem of innocence and purity. A pretty fashion in vogue among parents who can afford it, is of giving a pearl to each of their daughters on their birthdays. These are carefully matched and strung so that the string grows to a necklace for maturer years. Along with the emblematic idea and the fanciful notion of their origin, there comes to us from the old days a superstition concerning pearls which probably grew out of the statement that they were the congealed tears of heaven. It was supposed that they brought tears to their possessors. The idea originated probably about a thousand years ago in western Europe. It did not exist in Rome during the time of the Cæsars for the pearl was then the sign of power and affluence and was coveted by men and women alike and it remains a most popular gem in Italy to-day. This absurdity has been kept alive by stories of prominent persons in whose experience occurrences seemed to confirm the claim. The Queen of Henry IV. of France dreamt that her diamonds were turned to pearls the night previous to her husband’s assassination by Ravaillac. The consort of James IV. of Scotland dreamt of pearls three nights in succession before the disastrous battle of Flodden Field in which he lost his life. These and similar stories which appeal to a love of the mysterious and wonderful have been perpetuated by writers of books, so that even to-day there are women who coveting pearls still fear to own them. But to be out of the fashion is more dreadful to women than tears, so it has come to pass that with the increasing vogue of the pearl, less is heard of the superstition and it is dying, not of age or the contempt of knowledge, but by the potency of fashion. A story already referred to in these pages, that has been current for over two thousand years during which time it has been mentioned by almost every writer about pearls, deserves, for its antiquity and absurdity, consideration here. It is of Cleopatra and the pearl worth upwards of three hundred thousand dollars she is said to have dissolved in wine to drink in costly fashion to her lover. This was, of course, impossible. She may, with the help of the wine have swallowed it like a pill or, as Sir Thomas Gresham did later, have ground it to powder and mixed it with the wine she drank, but to dissolve a pearl of great size as one of this value would be, was a conjurer’s feat. The lime of which a pearl is chiefly composed will dissolve in acid, but the gem although softened, would remain a pulpy mass held by the organic matter interwoven throughout the strata of calcium carbonate. Whatever she really did, or in what form she swallowed the pearl, if she did so, Cleopatra and her pearl are better known to-day to the gene al public than either of her Roman lovers, and they will probably be handed down through many generations yet to come. To exaggerate is a common tendency. Dealers usually place inordinately high figures on exceptional gems which they do for several reasons: the great price excites wonder and interest; it makes a large profit possible; it permits considerable reduction to a shrewd buyer; and it pleases the person who finally purchases it, for if the sale is made public the first asking price is usually given as the value of the jewel, and sometimes even that is exceeded. The buyer prefers to have it so because it increases the importance of his possession in the public mind and paves the way for a good price if he too at any time should wish to sell. One reads constantly in the daily papers of sales where the prices given are enormously beyond the sums actually paid, for the public like big figures. Reporters know this and do not fail to supply the demand. For instance: in an eastern city of the United States, a man while at a lunch counter found a pearl in the oyster he was eating. He took it at once to a jeweller of his aquaintance who handed it to a New York pearl-dealer present and asked him to value it. The pearl was large and round but, like all such formations in the edible oyster, quite devoid of the nacre which constitutes a true pearl. The dealer so informed them, adding casually, “If it were a true pearl it would be worth several thousand dollars.” An evening paper that day had a half column story about it with, “A pearl worth five thousand dollars found in an oyster at a lunch-counter,” in black head-lines, and the morning papers of the following day enlarged the story by adding fanciful details. Undoubtedly in the old days of license when immense fortunes were made not only in trade but by piratical wars, large prices were paid by fortune’s favorites for pearls but it is extremely probable that report, bruited from mouth to mouth, exaggerated even more than the printed fables of our times do. It is doubtful if the pearls of ancient chronicles were as fine, judged by the standards of to-day, as we imagine or that all of them were as large as reported. The public were more ignorant about them than now and also more credulous and these invite exaggeration. Very large pearls which for perfection of shape, luster and freedom from flaws are beyond criticism, are the most rare of all gems. The conditions under which a pearl grows, makes large size, without the development of irregularities in the form and imperfections in the skin, almost impossible; and as they all grow in the same way, by the same process, out of the same sources of supply and subject to the same limitations, we find big and little, fine and ordinary, in about the same proportions as they occurred thousands of years ago; the fish that made them then makes them now, in the same kind of a narrow workshop and within the bounds of a life whose duration has not changed. Of very ancient historic pearls, the only one of which we have reliable and expert knowledge, is that of the Shah of Persia seen by Tavernier. This and La Peregrina are supposed to be still in existence. Of the very large pearls generally mentioned by writers, three undoubtedly exist, viz., La Pellegrina, the Beresford Hope and one of medium quality in the Austrian Crown weighing about twelve hundred grains. It is probable that very many pearls have been found, which if generally known would have become celebrated, but of those chronicled, most have passed out of public knowledge. It is probable that some of those about which much has been written were not as beautiful as others which have escaped notoriety. The writer’s habit of drawing upon the past to illustrate a subject, has narrowed the literature of pearls to reiterated records of a few great pearls which one by one have been brought to public notice during the past centuries. Exact and reliable statements about gems are a modern innovation. In the old times unverified report was the only evidence the general public had of them. Crown jewellers, not always quite reliable, would make public some statements in general terms about the jewels of a reigning house. Occasionally, as in the case of France, the state had the crown jewels inventoried so that some fairly definite knowledge could be had of them. Infrequently a traveller published his observations, made under more or less favorable circumstances, of the jewels of some oriental prince. Chief of these was Tavernier, the French jeweller. He not only had expert knowledge of gems but was able by recommendations of the French court, to gain such access to the jewels of eastern princes and dealers that he could make critical examinations of them. For various reasons it is extremely difficult also in these days to obtain accurate knowledge of extraordinary gems. Dealers for business reasons are chary of information, nor will they make such pieces common by allowing many to see and handle them. The buyer is equally averse to publicity, so that exact knowledge does not pass far beyond the dealer and his customer as a rule. The finest pearl known is that in the Museum of Zosima, in Moscow, called La Pellegrina. It is perfectly round and so lustrous that it appears to be transparent. It weighs about 112 grains and was bought of the captain of an East India ship at Leghorn. The largest known pearl to-day is in the Beresford Hope collection shown at the South Kensington Museum, London. It is two inches long and its circumference is four and a half inches. It weighs three ounces (1818 grains). Tavernier saw a pearl in 1663 belonging to the Shah of Persia which was valued at 3200 tomans or about $320,000 of our money. It was very perfect, pear-shaped, and nearly three inches long. It is believed to have come from the ancient fishery at Catifa in Arabia. Even this great sum was exceeded by Pliny in his estimate of the pearl Cleopatra is said to have swallowed. He placed the value of that at $375,000. As the Shah’s pearl was about three inches long, Cleopatra’s must have been large enough to reflect on the story connected with it. It is said Julius Cæsar presented a pearl valued at an equivalent of nearly $250,000 to Servilla the sister of Cato of Utica and mother of Marcus Junius Brutus. The pearl taken from the ear-drop of Caecilia Metella by Clodius to dissolve and drink in vinegar was valued at $40,000. A large pear-shaped pearl weighing one thousand grains was found at the island of Margarita off the Colombian coast and given to Philip II. of Spain. Some reports say it was obtained in 1579, others give the date as 1560 and say it was presented to the monarch by Don Diego de Temes. It was valued then at something over $30,000, but Freco, the king’s jeweller, said it might be worth twice to twenty times as much for such a gem was priceless. It was later known among the crown jewels as La Peregrina. Prior to this, a companion of Magellan reported having seen two pearls as large as hen’s eggs in the possession of the Rajah of Borneo. The pearl which Sir Thomas Gresham drank in his wine to Elizabeth of England is said to have been worth seventy-five thousand dollars. It was reported some years ago that the Queen of the Gambiers owned a pearl of extraordinary luster, as large as a pigeon’s egg. There is a story that in 1779 a pearl weighing 2312 grains which cost in India $22,500, was offered for sale in St. Petersburg. It was called the sleeping lion because of its shape and must have been therefore a baroque. The republic of Venice presented a pearl to Soliman The Magnificent, Sultan of Turkey, which was valued at $80,000, and Pope Leo X. bought one of a Venetian jeweller for $70,000. These sums make the prices of to-day seem insignificant and it is very probable that many of the pearls which brought such large amounts would not pass criticism now. Perhaps one reason for the scarcity of large pearls among those taken from the fisheries in this age is that many of them are classed as baroques or are not sufficiently fine and perfect to attract attention. They pass therefore among those considered unworthy of notice. A brown pearl valued at $25,000 was exhibited by Marchisini of Florence at the Maritime International Exhibition at Naples in 1871. Among the Dudley pearls exhibited at the London Exhibition of 1872 was a necklace of exceptionally fine pearls valued at $150,000. The late Czar of Russia spent twenty-five years in collecting sufficient perfect Virgin pearls to form a necklace for his wife. The Countess Henckel owns a necklace of pearls which for value and associations is unrivalled. It is composed of three strands, each at one time being a separate and historical necklace. One was the famous necklace belonging to the Empress Eugénie which has been valued at £20,000; one known as “the necklace of the Virgin of Atokha,” formerly owned by a member of the Spanish nobility, the third belonged to the ex-Queen of Naples. For value this is exceeded by a single strand necklace of large pearls lately bought by a western millionaire of the United States. It is composed of thirty-seven pearls ranging from eighteen to fifty-two and three-quarter grains each, the latter being the largest central pearl. The combined weight of the pearls is 9793/4 grains and the value is given at $400,000. A very beautiful and nearly perfect pear-shaped pearl was found on the north-east coast of Australia in the seventies. It weighed 159 grains. There is a pearl about the size of a pigeon’s egg in the French crown jewels, valued at $8,000. Many fine pearls, especially black or colored, have been found on the Mexican coast during the last twenty-five years, among them a black pearl of 162 grains and another of 108 grains, a white pear shape weighing 176 grains, an oval of 128 grains, and three weighing 300 grains, 180 grains and 372 grains respectively, the first two being found in the same year. In the World’s Fair in Paris, 1889, seven black pearls from this district, valued at $22,000 were exhibited. These and others are described in “Gems and Precious Stones” by Kunz. No fresh-water pearl has attained an equal notoriety with the Queen pearl found at Notch Brook near Paterson, New Jersey, in 1857. It weighed 93 grains and was sold to the Empress Eugénie. Another round pearl of 400 grains, ruined by boiling, had it been properly extracted from the mussel, would probably have been the finest and most notable pearl of this age, though another as large as a pigeon’s egg, dropped from the mollusk and lost when the shell was opened, might have rivalled it. The finder was wading in a stream in Ohio, feeling for the projecting edges of the mussels with his feet, and opening them as he brought them to the surface, as was custom there. This, however, may have been like the fish that got away.
PEARLS IN LITERATURE
In all countries where woman has been enthroned in the respect as well as the affections of man, the pearl has been inseparably connected with her in his mind as a peculiarly fitting accompaniment to feminine loveliness. In the romantic dreams of youth, which hide betimes the harsh realism of life under a golden haze of imagery; where belted knights and fair ladies live and move unfettered, and all the impossible delights of sweet desire free from untoward consequences are reasonable, where invincible swords have no thought of the horrors of carnage, and unimpeded love is without cold calculation or following of sorrow, pearls everywhere shimmer. And when in his exalted moods man paints the shadow picture of the goddess of his life, he finds one gem alone befitting with which to deck her, namely, the pearl. This has come to pass probably because the ideal qualities of woman and the sea gem are alike, purity and modesty. The beauty of the most lustrous pearl is unobtrusive and its quality is virginal. In our visions of the spectral past, the shades of the consorts of the mighty all wear them. Pearls hang pendent from the ears of Egypt’s voluptuous queens, and Rome’s proud matrons. Pearls clasp the dainty flesh of Moslem houris and rest in the soft folds of draperies that cling about those daughters of the Orient, the common mortals of their day might not look upon. Great pearls hang festooned and pendent round the necks of lightly draped Dianas of the warm south lands, and coiled about the brown arms of the daughters of the chiefs in far-off islands of the South Seas. Upon reclining figures in the ancient palaces of Persia and Arab tents: wherever the proud women of the conquering occident move in stately measure across the high terraces of noble placement: in all dreams of fair women and brave men, are swords and pearls. And this is so because in all the ages, women of high position have loved pearls and writers have told it. In our old world so far, neither earth nor sea has yielded ought else so fit to lie in the bosom of woman, or to symbolize her character and beauty, as the chaste and dainty pearl. This high atmosphere of precious supremacy and reverence, which surrounds the gem now as it has for more than twenty centuries, is a legacy of Rome. The east loved pearls as beautiful and precious trinkets; while Rome gave to them imperial honors and drew around them the mystic circle of patrician favor. And since that day, in every land where an aristocracy existed or came into existence, pearls have been the familiars of the exclusive. This natural fitness of the gem for refined associations is recognized by Emerson in his “Friendship.” He says: Thou foolish Hafiz! Say! do churls Know the worth of Oman’s pearls? Give the gem which dims the moon To the noblest, or to none. It is a late echo of the scriptural saying, “Cast not your pearls before swine.” No modern poet shows more knowledge of the nature, or a more just appreciation of the delicate beauty of the gem than Emerson. In his “May Day,” speaking of the tardiness of the spring, he writes: “Slow grows the palm, too slow the pearl.” Evidently he knew of the slow process by which the successive coats of filmy nacre increase the size of the growing gem. Likewise a couplet in “Nature’’ betrays the poet’s observation of the iridescent nature of the colors in mother-of-pearl, and in the gem occasionally when those fleeting tints are added to the beauty of its luster; the lines are a dainty illustration: Illusions like the tints of pearl, Or changing colors of the sky. Some of the great poets, notably Tennyson, apparently confuse the gem with its mother-of-pearl, or refer to the latter only when they speak of pearl. In his “Recollections of the Arabian Nights,” however, Tennyson in describing one of his beauties evidently refers to the gem: And a brow of pearl Tressed with redolent ebony. Writing of the mermaid, the lines are more suggestive of the shell nacre: Combing her hair Under the sea, In a golden curl With a comb of pearl. Again in a sonnet, he evidently refers to mother-of-pearl when he says: All night through archways of the bridgèd pearl, And portals of pure silver, walks the moon. This indiscriminate use of the gem’s name to appropriate its pearly characteristics is a common poetic license. In Ben Jonson’s “Hymn to Diana,” he bids her, Lay thy bow of pearl apart. Sometimes metaphor is worse mixed, as when Milton in “Paradise Lost” describes the waters above the firmament about the gate of Heaven thus: And underneath a bright sea flowed Of jasper, or of liquid pearl. In this poem of gorgeous description, the author makes several allusions to the gem and some of them, especially those in his word paintings of scenes in Eden, are poetically beautiful and true. One delightful to the eye of the mind, How from that sapphire fount the crispèd brooks Rolling on orient pearls and sands of gold, and another in the description of morning in Eden, equally beautiful though it takes more license: Now Morn, her rosy steps in th’ eastern clime Advancing, sow’d the earth with orient pearl. In his “Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester,” a couplet shows that he was familiar with the superstition of sorrow connected with them. And those pearls of dew she wears, Proove to be presaging tears. Herrick also associated pearls and tears though more happily as in “Corinna’s Maying.” Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, Against you come, some orient pearls unwept. The same poet makes charming reference to pearls in his poem entitled: “To Daffodils.” Or as the pearls of morning dew Ne’er to be found again. Shakespeare made frequent reference to the gem, sometimes to illustrate the magnificence of wealth and station but more frequently in connection with dew and tears. Oberon says: And that same dew, which some time on the buds Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls. King Richard III. when he argues with Queen Elizabeth for her daughter’s hand in marriage, promises with smooth and brazen villany to so offset the wrongs he had done her, that: The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again, transformed to orient pearls. In “King John” Elinor speaking to Constance of Arthur, says, “Draw those heaven moving pearls from his poor eyes;” and in “King Lear,” one of the gentlemen, speaking of the Queen of France when she received the news he carried, describes her mood thus: Those happy smilets, That played on her ripe lip, seemed not to know What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropp’d. In “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Lysander says to Helen: To-morrow night, when Phœbe doth behold Her silver visage in the wat’ry glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass. Among his recognitions of pearls as a sign of the luxury of wealth and high position, he makes a lord say, in the “Taming of the Shrew” Or wilt thou ride? Thy horses shall be trapp’d Their harness studded all with gold and pearl. And in “King Henry V,” the King while deploring the sorrows incident to kingship, says: Tis not The intertissued robe of gold and pearl That beats upon the high shore of this world. These two quotations indicate that the Roman custom of decorating robes and even the harness of horses with pearls was followed in Shakespeare’s day by the nobles. A line suggestive of the high-esteem in which the pearl was held in his day, and often quoted, occurs in Othello’s grand but heart-broken selfdenunciation just before he stabs himself: Of one, whose hand Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away, Richer than all his tribe. It is evident also that stories were current then of the western Indian’s ignorant prodigality in the disposition of things common to him but very precious among more enlightened people. In “King Richard III,” Duke Clarence sees in his dream of drowning, “Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl.” Several times the great dramatist puts the gem in somewhat grewsome setting. In “A Sea Dirge” however, the bare horror of the idea which grins at one in similar connections. is transformed by the poetry in which it is draped: These are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. A favorite use of the sea-gem by the lighter poets is to adorn their images of physical beauty. In “Don Juan,” Byron, describing one of the Turk’s houris in the harem, says: Was slumbering with soft breath, And lips apart, which show’d the pearls beneath, and another poet writes similarly: Those cherries fairly do enclose Of orient pearls a double row. Shelley confines his references to pearls almost entirely to descriptions of Nature dew-bedecked, as in the “Revolt of Islam,” I sate with Cythna; drooping briony, pearled With dew from the mild streamlet’s shattered wave, and another in “Prometheus Unbound” where the chorus of spirits sing: Nor aught save where some cloud of dew, Hangs each a pearl in the pale flowers Of the green laurel blown anew. In “Arethusa” he uses them to enhance the idea of regal magnificence in these lines: Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearlèd thrones. The poets rarely refer to the gem as a symbol of spiritual attributes though it is peculiarly adapted by its natural qualities to illustrate purity, innocence, and other qualities of the human soul: nor is it often connected with religious ideas. Among the few, Andrew Marvell in his “Song of the Emigrants in Burmuda,” avails himself of it somewhat prosaically thus, He cast (of which we rather boast) The Gospel’s pearl upon our coast. One of the most poetically beautiful references ever made to the Ocean’s modest jewel occurs in the “The Rosary” by Robert Cameron Rogers. The hours I spend with thee, dear heart, Are as a string of pearls to me; I count them over every one apart, My rosary. Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer, To still a heart in absence wrung; I tell each bead unto the end, and there A cross is hung. No poet has made more frequent allusion to pearls than Thomas Moore. His poems give evidence that he had read much of them in ancient writings and was alive to their poetic value. In his description of Ireland in “Fairest! Put on Awhile,” the lines Lakes, where the pearl lies hid, And caves, where the gem is sleeping, were founded on the statements of Nennius, a British writer of the IXth century, concerning Irish pearls. In passing, it is worthy of notice that Nennius recorded also that the princes of Ireland hung them behind their ears; a fashion similar to that of Persian and Athenian youth many centuries earlier. From Cardanus, Moore learned of the ancient fable that pearls were improved by leaving them awhile with doves, and utilizes the fancy in “A Dream of Antiquity” thus: As pearls, we’re told, that fondling doves Have played with, wear a smoother whiteness. An early reference to the gem is found in his VY “Odes of Anacreon” No. XXII: Or even those envious pearls that show So faintly round that neck of snow. If this ode was really written by Anacreon, that poet must have been more familiar with pearls than some later Grecian writers. A similar idea quite as beautifully expressed occurs in “The Loves of the Angels.” Then too the pearl from out its shell Unsightly, in the sunless sea, (As ‘twere a spirit, forced to dwell In form unlovely) was set free, And round the neck of woman threw A light it lent and borrowed too. Unlike most of the poets, Moore does not describe the sparkling dew-drop as pearly and his references to tears of pearls include the idea of metamorphosis, as in “The Light of the Haram.” And precious their tears as that rain from the sky, Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea. These lines embody the ancient Hindu superstition which is also apparent in his “Lines to—” Put off the fatal zone you wear, The shining pearls around it Are tears, that fell from Virtue there, The hour when Love unbound it. In his adoration of female beauty, he often holds the lustrous gem as a foil to the exceeding charms of woman, or to lift her to higher esteem by holding her, for preciousness, above the gem. Beyond all other things most lovely, only woman was lovelier yet. In “To weave a Garland for the Rose,” he writes: Where is the pearl whose orient lustre Would not, beside thee, look less bright? And in one of the “Odes to Nea,” he expresses the jealous regard of love thus: If I were yonder conch of gold And thou the pearl within it placed, I would not let an eye behold The sacred gem my arms embraced. Of the threads in which the woof of “The Genius of Harmony” is woven, there is one that sings thus to the passing of the shuttle: To the small rill, that weeps along Murmuring o’er beds of pearl. Betraying as he did so frequently in his poems, such a high regard for the pearl, it is somewhat curious that the gem was used descriptively in connection with himself. N. P. Willis, describing Thomas Moore as he met him at Lady Blessington’s said of him, “ His forehead shines with the lustre and smooth polish of a pearl.” Schiller takes the gem from the warm touch of human sentiment and builds it into a grand conception, poetical but untrue to Nature. In common with other poets, he credits the pearl with a play of color seldom found even to a limited degree though it does occur in the mother-of-pearl. In “Parables and Riddles,” he describes the rainbow thus: A bridge of pearls its fabric weaves, A gray sea arching proudly over. In “The Celebrated Woman” he alludes twice to pearls; once when the husband, bemoaning the passage of his choice vintages down the throats of unappreciative celebrities, realizes that the only reward from his spouse for his endurance of it is, “sour looks—deep sighs.” Because he has no stomach for her notables and their wit, she regrets—That such a pearl should fall to swine— Later on the husband refers satirically to the meeting of “learned Dons and folks of fashion” at their resorts, where he says: All sorts of Fame sit cheek-by-jowl, Pearls in that string—the Table d’Hote. Few later writers have set the pearl in as wide a range of ideas or in language as beautiful as Edmund Spenser. The tears of Stella in “The Mourning Muse of Thestylis” are more precious and gem-like than those in any lines which have followed until now. In these lines they are priceless jewels royally set. And from those two bright starres to him sometime so deere, Her heart sent drops of pearle, which fell in foyson downe Twixt lilly and the rose. As a means to wake imagination to the physical charms of woman his use of the gem is equally happy and graceful, for there is always a soul in the flesh of his beauty as when he depicts the charms of a fair one in one of his “Sonnets.” But fairest she, when so she doth display The gate with pearles and rubyes richly dight; Throgh which her words so wise do make their way To bear the message of her gentle spright. In another place he expresses the worship of his love in this fashion: For loe, my love doth in her selfe containe All this worlds riches that may farre be found; If Pearles, her teeth be Pearles, both pure and round. Several of his poems show the fashion of pearls in his day as for instance where he describes the Scarlet Lady in “The Faerie Queene” as— A goodly Lady clad in scarlet red, Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay. and Hymen in “Epithalamion” —Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre, Sprinckled with perle. There is a passing breath of spice-laden gales and the wonder magic of ships in far-off seas, carrying to perils and adventure men seeking the treasures of strange lands, while he tells in Virgil’s Gnat of the shepherd’s content: Ne ought the whelky pearles esteemeth hee, Which are from Indian seas brought far away. Poets are reminded not only of the teeth and neck of beauty by the luster of the pearl but of the forehead also. Whittier like Tennyson gives to woman a brow of pearl. In “Memories” the girl has— Eyes glad with smiles, and brow of pearl, and in “Stanzas,” he places the beauty of flesh above that of the dainty jewel thus: O’er a forehead more pure than the Parian stone— Shaming the light of those Orient pearls Which bind o’er its whiteness thy soft wreathing curls. Similarly Heinrich Heine in Longfellow’s translation of “The Sea hath its Pearls” says: And fairer than pearls and stars Flashes and beams my love. Probably in no poem is the pearl referred to so frequently or with so wide significance as in Whittier’s “The Vaudois Teacher.” The missionary in his guise of peddler having obtained an audience with the fair chatelaine, while extolling his wares, says: And my pearls are pure as thy own fair neck, with whose radiant light they vie. Naturally, this wisdom of the serpent with which his innocence was garnished brought favorable response: And the lady smiled on the worn old man through the dark and clustering curls, Which veiled her brow as she bent to view his silks and glittering pearls. After she had bought of his trinkets, the old teacher carefully introduces the covered object of his visit. Oh, lady fair, I have yet a gem which a purer lustre flings, Than the diamond flash of the jewelled crown on the lofty brow of Kings, A wonderful pearl of exceeding price, whose virtue shall not decay. This statement at once arouses a keen interest, for in those days great gems came from unexpected sources and by unlikely hands and coming seldom, excited desire to an extent unknown in these abundant times. Glancing at the mirrored pearls in her own hair the lady says: Bring forth thy pearl of exceeding worth, thou traveller gray and old And name the price of thy precious gem, and my page shall count thy gold. Here is the golden opportunity of the zealot. From its place of concealment beneath the tempting wares in his pack he takes a shabby little book and gives it to her saying: Here, lady fair, is the pearl of price, may it proove as such to thee, Nay—keep thy gold—I ask it not; for the Word of God is free! Nor does the religious mind of Whittier fail to remember the gates of pearl, for in “Ego” he speaks of The pearl gates of the Better Land. Carlyle makes reference to the gem in a line greater in conception and more poetic than most of those which occur in the rhymes of the poets—“She died in beauty, like a pearl dropped from some diadem.” In Ruffini’s “Dr. Antonio,” man and woman are set in marriage as a foil and complement of each other though the metaphor shows some misunderstanding of the qualities of gems, for black diamonds are not as fiery as others. The lines are: The fiery black diamond casting lustre over the Oriental pearl: the Oriental pearl in return lending softness to the black diamond. Dryden does not forget pearls when he caparisons the royal mighty and in “Palamon and Arcite” fitly thus describes Emetrius, King of Inde: His surcoat o’er his arms was cloth of Thrace, Adorned with pearls all orient, round and great. It is remarkable that so many poets have seen in the pearl a simile for raindrops and dew. Among them, Browning in the song from “Pippa Passes,” sees—The hill-side’s dew-pearled. At its best, the pearl is not luminous, neither does it flash nor sparkle: the quality of it is softly lustrous as of light that smolders; but transferring by imagery the mist-white texture of dew when it is spread over leaf and grass blade, to the transparent dew-drop, poets see in the sparkling globule, which in the sun is of diamantine brilliancy, a simile of the pearl. In “By the Fireside however, Browning creates a rain of pearls, a truer figure than pearly rain-drops: Break the rosary in a pearly rain, And gather what we let fall. The metaphors of Lowell are more true to the nature of the pearl and its characteristics than those of many poets. One, seldom used though most appropriate, occurs in “The First Snow Fall.” And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl. Another instance of combined truth and poetry may be found in “An Invitation.” A cloud Byzantium newly born, With flickering spires and dome of pearl. And in “Pictures from Appledore,” the same poet in the embodiment of a delightful idea in words says of the moon: Rather to call it the canoe Hollowed out of a single pearl. In these illustrations, imagination is true to nature on either hand, for the beady ridges of the half melted or frozen snow on the tree twigs, the soft luster of a white cloud dome and the pale round moon, alike are characterized by beauties which are pearly. In his more involved metaphor the same nice avoidance of incongruity is noticeable. Though raindrops are not pearly, the white fringe of a shore-driven wave is, which he notes in “Sea-Weed” For the same wave that rims the Carib shore With momentary brede of pearl and gold. There is a hint of Cleopatra and Sir Thomas Gresham in his lines “To H. W. L.” Let them drink molten pearls nor dream the cost; and in the lines from “Memoria Positum” there is an understanding of the processes by which the gem grows This death hath far choicer ends Than slowly to impearl in hearts of friends; and in the poetic fancy in “A Familiar Epistle to a Friend” Old sorrows crystallized into pearls. Nor does he omit the time-honored custom of poets to place the gem among the chief jewels of the great and in the mouth of beauty, for in “The Singing Leaves” he makes the King’s eldest daughter ask of her royal father when he journeys: O, bring me pearls and diamonds great, and in “A Fable for Critics” he says: Your goddess of freedom, a tight, buxom girl, With lips like a cherry and teeth like a pearl. Bryant does not often allude to pearls, but in two instances, both in “The Flood of Years,” they appear in beautiful setting. In the first: A beam like that of moonlight turns the spray To glistening pearls. Later on, describing the ocean of the past, he sees Dim glimmerings of lost jewels, far within The sleeping waters, diamond, sardonyx, Ruby and topaz, pearl and chrysolite. The general use of pearls in the barbaric splendor of the great in the days of Rome and Egypt and Persia, appears in Tasso’s “Jerusalem Delivered.” In the wizard’s dwelling: Nor failed there urns of crystal, pearl, and gold, and, High on the Soldan’s helm, in scales of pearl A rampant dragon grinn’d malignant things; and also, the Pastors of the flocks Have on their sacerdotal albs, which pass In front divided o’er their golden frocks, Clasp’d with aigraffes of pearl. In the review of the oriental hordes, Armida’s car is thus described, Her car, that glorious as Aurora’s roll’d, With rubies, pearls, and hyacinths glisten’d clear. Among those who passed the Egyptian prince, were: The Islanders with fleecy curls, Whose homes are compassed by th’ Arabian waves; By whom those shells which breed the Persian pearls Are dived and fish’d for, in their green sea caves. The name of the gem is used in rare fashion in picturing the enchanted wood through which Rinaldo wanders: Impearl’d with manna was each fresh leaf nigh. And twice does the sweat of the human face become pearly in the poet’s imagination: once when Armida watches Rinaldo sleeping: The living heat-dews that impearl’d his face, She with her veil wiped tenderly away. In the second instance, speaking of Armida, the poet says: She dies Of the sweet passion, and the heat that pearls, Yet more her ardent aspect beautifies. Thomson sees pearls only in the dew-impearled earth, and one must admit, after looking upon the liquid globules hanging in rows from the spreading twigs of trees before the morning sun has found them in their shaded quarters, that the pendent spheres are suggestive, and that the poet’s eye needs but little assistance from imagination to see in them the soft round gems of the ocean. In all ages, prose and fiction have treated of pearls as a form of exceeding preciousness and a chief evidence of high station and barbaric splendor. The lute of poetry has held few additional strings. Modern writers have added little to the imaginations of the ancients. All the changes made by successive poets have been rung on the tears, dew-drops, and beauty’s teeth, handed down from long ago. The wide ranges of the pearl’s modest worth, exalted purity, and singular beauty, yet remain to illustrate the thoughts of future genius. Imagination has not yet brooded often over the humble and distorted creatures, whose gnarled and twisted forms, lying among their myriad shapely brethren are evidence of a precious sacrifice of self to leave a heritage of beauty; nor dreamed of the silent acres under turbulent waters where the gem, one day to adorn the neck of beauty or the diadem of royalty, is reared. What play for imagination lies between the birth of this creation of one of the humblest of Earth’s creatures, and the high placement to which it rises as soon as it is discovered. There are deserted wastes of sand and water under torrid skies, populated almost momentarily with teeming multitudes whose jargon fills the former silences with a world wide medley of tongues. As in a dream, the tremulous air is stirred by the struggling movement of naked slaves, turbanned orientals, men from all lands of the occident, the moving throng weaving constantly new patterns from the variegated colors and fantastic costumes of living threads. And everywhere, beneath the prosaic motion of labor and trading, is the quiver of hope, the excitement of the gambler; the poetry of human passions, unseen, but felt. There are in unfrequented seas, where some lonely atoll draws its circle round a still lagoon, treasures greater than its cargo and the stately ship sailing heedless by. So like the undiscovered pearls of the ocean’s bed, the universe holds an exhaustless store of thoughts and truths for those who come after the discoverers of this age. Thought runs in grooves and the grooves outlast many generations; scarcely in a cycle does one look over the ridge and find a species foreign to the rut. Within the walls which the past builds for the present it is more easy to adopt than to bring forth, and so the ancient metaphors, age after age, are with some changes of raiment thrown back upon the world again. But in this new era of acquisition, while this sea-gem is again lifted to the serene heights of most exalted favor, perhaps it will not only shine upon the persons of the fair, but adorn, in simile and metaphor as beautiful as the old, the pages of romance and poetry.
GLOSSARY
ABALONE.—Name given on the California coast and in the United States to the Haliotis.
BALL-PEARL.—Name given to round pearls by pearlers at the inland fisheries of the United States.
BAROQUE.—A pearly formation of irregular shape.
BASE.—A basic price, subject to the square of the pearl’s weight.
BASKETS.—Brass sieves used in India for separating pearls of different sizes.
BLACK-SHELL.—Pearl oyster shells of which the nacreous lining has a black edge.
BLISTER.—A piece of the mother-of-pearl lining of a pearl-oyster shell, raised above the surface like a blister.
BLUEBACKS.—Shell of a variety of Haliotis.
BLUE-PEARLS.—Dark, slaty blue-white pearls, principally from the Mexican coast.
BOMBAY PEARLS.—Fine pearls from the Arabian and Red Seas, so named because marketed through that city.
BUTTON PEARLS.—Shaped like a dome, high or low, rising from a plane and called “high buttons, “buttons”‘ or “low buttons, accordingly.
CLAMMER.—One who fishes for mussels by dredging for the shells principally.
DEAD PEARLS.—Pearls with a chalky or waxy skin having little or no luster.
DRESS.—Diving apparatus consisting of a one piece dress from the neck down, corselet, helmet, air-pipes and life-line.
DROP-PEARL.—Ovoid, or obovoid, not necessarily of perfect shape.
DRILLED PEARLS.—Pearls with one hole for setting on peg, or quite through the centre for stringing. Chinese drill two or three small holes half way between circumference and bottom, for holding-wires,
EGG PEARLS.—Ovoid: shaped like an egg.
FLAT.—In connection with price quotation means, price per grain regardless of size.
FRESH-WATER PEARLS.—Pearls taken from inland streams.
GREEN EARS.—Shell of Haliotis having green mother-of pearl lining.
HALF PEARLS.—Round pearls sawed in half.
HELMET.—Diving head-gear.
LINGAHS.—Pearl oyster shells from the Arabian Sea and others of similar size and quality.
MADRAS PEARLS.—Fine white pearls from the Ceylon fisheries, so called because marketed principally in that city.
MANUL.—Loose or soft sand sea-botton (Ceylon).
MULTIPLE.—Price of pearls subject to the multiple of weight.
MUSSEL-EGG.—Name given to pearls by Tennesseans.
NACRE.—The substance of which pearls and the lining of pearl-shells consists.
NAKED DIVING.—Diving without any appliances.
ORIENT.—As applied to pearls, the luster of the skin.
ORIENTAL PEARLS.—Generally, pearls from salt water; specifically, pearls from the Indian Seas.
OUNCE PEARLS.—Poor grades sold by the ounce.
PAAR.—Ceylon name for rock or hard bottom oyster bed.
PEARLER.—One who fishes for mussels for the pearls.
PEAR-SHAPE.—Shaped like a pear; obovoid.
PEELER.—A pearl with an imperfect skin, the removal of which would improve the pearl.
RED-EARS.—Abalone shell with pearly red interior.
ROSE-PEARLS.—Pink, iridescent, fresh-water baroques.
SEED-PEARLS.—Very small round pearls.
SLUGS.—Nacreous excrescences from the Unio.
SKIN.—As applied to pearls, the outer layer of nacre.
SQUARE.—Method of reckoning the cost of a pearl of any size at a lot price, by the square of price given, with the grain as a unit.
STRAWBERRY-PEARLS.—Large pink, iridescent and lustrous baroques, fairly regular in shape, with the appearance of being thickly sanded under the nacre.
SWEET-WATER PEARLS.—Pearls from fresh-water.
TRUE-PEARLS.—Pearls formed of nacre as distinguished from similar formations which are not nacreous.
TWINNED-PEARLS.—Pearls enveloped together in one or more layers of nacre.
WHITE-SHELL.—Pearl-oyster shells with nacre white to the edge.
YELLOW-SHELL.—Pearl-oyster shells with yellowish nacre.

THE PICTURE DORIAN GRAY

THE PICTURE DORIAN GRAY BY OSCAR WILDE
THE PREFACE
The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things. The highest, as the lowest, form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all. The nineteenth century dislike of Realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass. The nineteenth century dislike of Romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass. The moral life of man forms part of the subject matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor’s craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless. OSCAR WILDE.
THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY
CHAPTER 1
The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses. and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-slowering thorn. From the corner of the divan of Persian saddlebags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flame-like as theirs; and now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long tussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window. producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect, and making him think of those pallid jade-faced painters of Tokio who, through the medium of an art that is necessarily immobile, seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion. The sullen murmur of the bees shouldering their way through the long unmown grass, or circling with monotonous insistence round the dusty gilt horns of the straggling woodbine, seemed to make the stillness more oppressive. The dim roar of London was like the bourdon note of a distant organ. In the centre of the room, clamped to an upright easel, stood the full-length portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal beauty, and in front of it, some little distance away, was sitting the artist himself, Basil Hallward, whose sudden disappearance some years ago caused, at the time, such public excitement, and gave rise to so many strange conjectures. As the painter looked at the gracious and comely form he had so skilfully mirrored in his art, a smile of pleasure passed across his face, and seemed about to linger there. But he suddenly started up, and, closing his eyes, placed his fingers upon the lids, as though he sought to imprison within his brain some curious dream from which he feared he might awake. “It is your best work, Basil, the best thing you have ever done,” said Lord Henry, languidly. “You must certainly send it next year to the Grosvenor. The Academy is too large and too vulgar. Whenever I have gone there, there have been either so many people that I have not been able to see the pictures, which was dreadful, or so many pictures that I have not been able to see the people, which was worse. The Grosvenor is really the only place.” “I don’t think I shall send it anywhere,” he answered, tossing his head back in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at Oxford. “No: I won’t send it anywhere.” Lord Henry elevated his eyebrows, and looked at him in amazement through the thin blue wreaths of smoke that curled up in such fanciful whorls from his heavy opium-tainted cigarette. “Not send it anywhere? My dear fellow, why? Have you any reason? What odd chaps you painters are! You do anything in the world to gain a reputation. As soon as you have one, you seem to want to throw it away. It is silly of you, for there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about. A portrait like this would set you far above all the young men in England, and make the old men quite jealous, if old men are ever capable of any emotion.” “I know you will laugh at me,” he replied, “but I really can’t exhibit it. I have put too much of myself into it.” Lord Henry stretched himself out on the divan and laughed. “Yes, I knew you would; but it is quite true, all the same.” “Too much of yourself in it! Upon my word, Basil, I didn’t know you were so vain, and I really can’t see any resemblance between you, with your rugged strong face and your coal-black hair, and this young Adonis, who looks as if he was made out of ivory and rose-leaves. Why, my dear Basil, he is a Narcissus, and you—well, of course you have an Intellectual expression, and all that. But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. The moment one sits down to think, one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something horrid. Look at the successful men in any of the learned professions. How perfectly hideous tliey are! Except, of course, in the Church. But then in the Church they don’t think. A bishop keeps on saying at the age of eighty what he was told to say when he was a boy of eighteen, and as a natural consequence he always looks absolutely delightful. Your mysterious young friend, whose name you have never told me, but whose picture really fascinates me, never thinks. I feel quite sure of that. He is some brainless, beautiful creature, who should be always here in winter when we have no flowers to look at, and always here in summer when we want something to chill our intelligence. Don’t flatter yourself, Basil: you are not in the least like him.” “You don’t understand me, Harry” answered the artist. “Of course I am not like him. I know that perfectly well. Indeed, I should be sorry to look like him. You shrug your shoulders? I am telling you the truth. There is a fatality about all physical and intellectual distinction, the sort of fatality that seems to dog through history the faltering steps of kings. It is better not to be different from one’s fellows. The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. They can sit at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They live as we all should live, undisturbed, indifferent, and without disquiet. They neither bring ruin upon others, nor ever receive it from alien hands. Your rank and wealth, Harry; my brains, such as they are—my art, whatever it may be worth; Dorian Gray’s good looks—we shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly.” “Dorian Gray? Is that his name?” asked Lord Henry, walking across the studio towards Basil Hallward. “Yes, that is his name. I didn’t intend to tell it to you.” “But why not?” “Oh, I can’t explain. When I like people immensely I never tell their names to anyone. It is like surrendering a part of them. I have grown to love secrecy. It seems to be the one thing that can make modern life mysterious or marvellous to us. The commonest thing is delightful if one only hides it. When I leave town now I never tell my people where I am going. If I did, I would lose all my pleasure. It is a silly habit, I daresay, but somehow it seems to bring a great deal of romance into one’s life. I suppose you think me awfully foolish about it?” “Not at all,” answered Lord Henry, “not at all, my dear Basil. You seem to forget that I am married, and the one charm of marriage is that it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary for both parties. I never know where my wife is, and my wife never knows what I am doing. When we meet—we do meet occasionally, when we dine out together, or go down to the Duke’s—we tell each other the most absurd stories with the most serious faces. My wife is very good at it—much better, in fact, than I am. She never gets confused over her dates, and I always do. But when she does find me out, she makes no row at all. I sometimes wish she would; but she merely laughs at me.” “I hate the way you talk about your married life, Harry,” said Basil Hallward, strolling towards the door that led into the garden. “I believe that you are really a very good husband, but that you are thoroughly ashamed of your own virtues. You are an extraordinary fellow. You never say a moral thing, and you never do a wrong thing. Your cynicism is simply a pose.” “Being natural is simply a pose, and the most irritating pose I know,” cried Lord Henry, laughing; and the two young men went out into the garden together, and ensconced themselves on a long bamboo seat that stood in the shade of a tall laurel bush. The sunlight slipped over the polished leaves. In the grass, white daisies were tremulous. After a pause, Lord Henry pulled out his watch. “I am afraid I must be going, Basil,” he murmured, “and before I go, I insist on your answering a question I put to you some time ago.” “What is that?” said the painter, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. “You know quite well.” “I do not, Harry.” “Well, I will tell you what it is. I want you to explain to me why you won’t exhibit Dorian Gray’s picture. I want the real reason.” “I told you the real reason.” “No, you did not. You said it was because there was too much of yourself in it. Now, that is childish.” “Harry,” said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, “every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my own soul.” Lord Henry laughed. “And what is that? “ he asked. “I will tell you,” said Hallward; but an expression of perplexity came over his face. “I am all expectation, Basil,” continued his companion, glancing at him. “Oh, there is really very little to tell, Harry,” answered the painter; “and I am afraid you will hardly understand it. Perhaps you will hardly believe it.” Lord Henry smiled, and, leaning down, plucked a pink-petalled daisy from the grass, and examined it. “I am quite sure I shall understand it,” he replied, gazing intently at the little golden white-feathered disk, “and as for believing things, I can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible.” The wind shook some blossoms from the trees, and the heavy lilac-blooms, with their clustering stars, moved to and fro in the languid air. A grasshopper began to chirrup by the wall, and like a blue thread a long thin dragon-fly floated past on its brown gauze wings. Lord Henry felt as if he could hear Basil Hallward’s heart beating, and wondered what was coming. “The story is simply this,” said the painter after some time. “Two months ago I went to a crush at Lady Brandon’s. You know we poor artists have to show ourselves in society from time to time, just to remind the public that we are not savages. With an evening coat and a white tie, as you told me once, anybody, even a stockbroker, can gain a reputation for being civilised. Well, after I had been in the room about ten minutes, talking to huge overdressed dowagers and tedious Academicians, I suddenly became conscious that someone was looking at me. I turned halfway round, and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself. did not want any external influence in my life. You know yourself, Harry, how independent I am by nature. I have always been my own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. Then—but I don’t know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that Fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid, and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience that made me do so; it was a sort of cowardice. I take no credit to myself for trying to escape.” “Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, Basil. Conscience is the trade-name of the firm. That is all.” “I don’t believe that, Harry, and I don’t believe you do either. However, whatever was my motive —and it may have been pride, for I used to be very proud—I certainly struggled to the door. There, of course, I stumbled against Lady Brandon. ‘You are not going to run away so soon, Mr. Hallward?’ she screamed out. You know her curiously shrill voice?” “Yes; she is a peacock in everything but beauty,” said Lord Henry, pulling the daisy to bits with his long, nervous fingers. “I could not get rid of her. She brought me up to Royalties, and people with Stars and Garters, and elderly ladies with gigantic tiaras and parrot noses. She spoke of me as her dearest friend. I had only met her once before, but she took it into her head to lionise me. I believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time, at least had been chattered about in the penny newspapers, which is the nineteenth-century standard of immortality. Suddenly I found myself face to face with the young man whose personality had so strangely stirred me. We were quite close, almost touching. Our eyes met again. It was reckless of me, but I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him. Perhaps it was not so reckless, after all. It was simply inevitable. We would have spoken to each other without any introduction. I am sure of that. Dorian told me so afterwards. He, too, felt that we were destined to know each other.” “And how did Lady Brandon describe this wonderful young man” asked his companion? “I know she goes in for giving a rapid précis of all her guests. I remember her bringing me up to a truculent and red-faced old gentleman covered all over with orders and ribbons, and hissing into my ear, in a tragic whisper which must have been perfectly audible to everybody in the room, the most astounding details. I simply fled. I like to find out people for myself. But Lady Brandon treats her guests exactly as an auctioneer treats his goods. She either explains them entirely away, or tells one everything about them except what one wants to know.” “Poor Lady Brandon! You are hard on her, Harry!” said Hallward, listlessly. “My dear fellow, she tried to found a salon, and only succeeded in opening a restaurant. How could I admire her? But tell me, what did she say about Mr. Dorian Gray?” “Oh, something like, ‘Charming boy—poor dear mother and I absolutely inseparable. Quite forget what he does—afraid he—doesn’t do anything—oh, yes, plays the piano—or is it the violin, dear Mr. Gray?’ Neither of us could help laughing, and we became friends at once.” “Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far the best ending for one,” said the young lord, plucking another daisy. Hallward shook his head. “You don’t understand what friendship is, Harry” he murmured—“or what enmity is, for that matter. You like everyone; that is to say, you are indifferent to everyone.” “How horribly unjust of you!” cried Lord Henry, tilting his hat back, and looking up at the little clouds that, like ravelled skeins of glossy white silk, were drifting across the hollowed turquoise of the summer sky. “Yes; horribly unjust of you. I make a great difference between people. I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects. A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies. I have not got one who is a fool. They are all men of some intellectual power, and consequently they all appreciate me. Is that very vain of me? I think it is rather vain.” “I should think it was, Harry. But according to your category I must be merely an acquaintance.” “My dear old Basil, you are much more than an acquaintance. And much less than a friend. A sort of brother. I suppose?” “Oh, brothers! I don’t care for brothers. My elder brother won’t die, and my younger brothers seem never to do anything else.” “Harry!” exclaimed Hallward, frowning. “My dear fellow, I am not quite serious. But I can’t help detesting my relations. I suppose it comes from the fact that none of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves. I quite sympathise with the rage of the English democracy against what they call the vices of the upper orders. The masses feel that drunkenness, stupidity, and immorality should be their own special property, and that if anyone of us makes an ass of himself he Is poaching on their preserves. When poor Southwark got into the Divorce Court, their indignation was quite magnificent. And yet I don’t suppose that ten per cent. of the proletariat live correctly.” “I don’t agree with a single word that you have said, and, what is more, Harry, I feel sure you don’t either.” Lord Henry stroked his pointed brown beard, and tapped the toe of his patent-leather boot with a tasselled ebony cane. “How English you are, Basil! That is the second time you have made that observation. If one puts forward an idea to a true Englishman—always a rash thing to do—he never dreams of considering whether the idea is right or wrong. The only thing he considers of any importance is whether one believes it oneself. Now, the value of an idea has nothing whatsoever to do with the sincerity of the man who expresses it. Indeed, the probabilities are that the more insincere the man is, the more purely intellectual will the idea be, as in that case it will not be coloured by either his wants, his desires, or his prejudices. However, I don’t propose to discuss politics, sociology, or metaphysics with you. I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world. Tell me more about Mr. Dorian Gray. How often do you see him?” “Every day. I couldn’t be happy if I didn’t see him every day. He is absolutely necessary to me.” “How extraordinary! I thought you would never care for anything but your art.” “He is all my art to me now,” said the painter, gravely. “I sometimes think, Harry, that there are only two eras of any importance in the world’s history. The first is the appearance of a new medium for art, and the second is the appearance of a new personality for art also. What the invention of oil painting was to the Venetians, the face of Antinoüs was to late Greek sculpture, and the face of Dorian Gray will some day be to me. It is not merely that I paint from him, draw from him, sketch from him. Of course I have done all that. But he is much more to me than a model or a sitter. I won’t tell you that I am dissatisfied with what I have done of him, or that his beauty is such that Art cannot express it. There is nothing that Art cannot express, and I know that the work I have done, since I met Dorian Gray, is good work, is the best work of my life. But in some curious way—I wonder will you understand me?—his personality has suggested to me an entirely new manner in art, an entirely new mode of style. I see things differently, I think of them differently. I can now recreate life in a way that was hidden from me before. ‘A dream of form in days of thought:’ —who is it who says that? I forget; but it is what Dorian Gray has been to me. The merely visible presence of this lad—for he seems to me little more than a lad, though he is really over twenty—his merely visible presence—ah! I wonder can you realise all that that means? Unconsciously he defines for me the lines of a fresh school, a school that is to have in it all the passion of the romantic spirit, all the perfection of the spirit that is Greek. The harmony of soul and body—how much that is! We in our madness have separated the two, and have invented a realism that is vulgar, an ideality that is void. Harry! if you only knew what Dorian Gray is to me! You remember that landscape of mine, for which Agnew offered me such a huge price, but which I would not part with? It is one of the best things I have ever done. And why is it so? Because, while I was painting it, Dorian Gray sat beside me. Some subtle influence passed from him to me, and for the first time in my life I saw in the plain woodland the wonder I had always looked for, and always missed.” “Basil, this is extraordinary! I must see Dorian Gray.” Hallward got up from the seat, and walked up and down the garden. After some time he came back. “Harry,” he said, “Dorian Gray is to me simply a motive in art. You might see nothing in him. I see everything in him. He is never more present in my work than when no image of him is there. He is a suggestion, as I have said, of a new manner. find him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. That is all.” “Then why won’t you exhibit his portrait?” asked Lord Henry. “Because, without intending It, I have put into it some expression of all this curious artistic idolatry, of which, of course, I have never cared to speak to him. He knows nothing about it. He shall never know anything about it. But the world might guess it; and I will not bare my soul to their shallow prying eyes. My heart shall never be put under their microscope. There is too much of myself in the thing Harry—too much of myself!” “Poets are not so scrupulous as you are. They know how useful passion is for publication. Nowadays a broken heart will run to many edition” “I hate them for it,” cried Hallward. “An artist should create beautiful things, but should put nothing of his own life into them. We live in an age when men treat art as if it were meant to be a form of autobiography. We have lost the abstract sense of beauty. Some day I will show the world what it is; and for that reason the world shall never see my portrait of Dorian Gray.” “I think you are wrong, Basil, but I won’t argue with you. It is only the intellectually lost who ever argue. Tell me, is Dorian Gray very fond of you?” The painter considered for a few moments. “He likes me,” he answered, after a pause; “I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said. As a rule, he is charming to me, and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things. Now and then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain. Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer’s day.” “Days in summer, Basil, are apt to linger,” murmured Lord Henry. Perhaps you will tire sooner than he will. It is a sad thing to think of, but there is no doubt that Genius lasts longer than Beauty. That accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves. In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place. The thoroughly well-informed man—that is the modern ideal. And the mind of the thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-à-brac shop, all monsters and dust, with everything priced above its proper value. I think you will tire first, all the same. Some day you will look at your friend, and he will seem to you to be a little out of drawing, or you won’t like his tone of colour, or something. You will bitterly reproach him in your own heart, and seriously think that he has behaved very badly to you. The next time he calls, you will be perfectly cold and indifferent. It will be a great pity, for it will alter you. What you have told me is quite a romance, a romance of art one might call it, and the worst of having a romance of any kind is that it leaves one so unromantic.” “Harry, don’t talk like that. As long as I live, the personality of Dorian Gray will dominate me. You can’t feel what I feel. You change too often.” “Ah, my dear Basil, that is exactly why I can feel It. Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love’s tragedies.” And Lord Henry struck a light on a dainty silver case, and began to smoke a cigarette with a self-conscious and satisfied air, as if he had summed up the world in a phrase. There was a rustle of chirruping sparrows in the green lacquer leaves of the ivy, and the blue cloud-shadows chased themselves across the grass like swallows. How pleasant it was in the garden! And how delightful other people’s emotions were!—much more delightful than their ideas, it seemed to him. One’s own soul, and the passions of one’s friends—those were the fascinating things in life. He pictured to himself with silent amusement the tedious luncheon that he had missed by staying so long with Basil Hallward. Had he gone to his aunt’s he would have been sure to have met Lord Goodbody there, and the whole conversation would have been about the feeding of the poor, and the necessity for model lodging-houses. Each class would have preached the importance of those virtues, for whose exercise there was no necessity in their own lives. The rich would have spoken on the value of thrift, and the idle grown eloquent over the dignity of labour. It was charming to have escaped all that! As he thought of his aunt, an idea seemed to strike him. He turned to Hallward, and said, “My dear fellow, I have just remembered.” “Remembered what, Harry?” “Where I heard the name of Dorian Gray.” “Where was it?” asked Hallward, with a slight frown. “Don’t look so angry, Basil. It was at my aunt, Lady Agatha’s. She told me she had discovered a wonderful young man, who was going to help her in the East End, and that his name was Dorian Gray. I am bound to state that she never told me he was good-looking. Women have no appreciation of good looks; at least, good women have not. She said that he was very earnest, and had a beautiful nature. I at once pictured to myself a creature with spectacles and lank hair, horribly freckled, and tramping about on huge feet. I wish I had known it was your friend.” “I am very glad you didn’t, Harry.” “Why?” “I don’t want you to meet him.” “You don’t want me to meet him?” “No.” “Mr. Dorian Gray is in the studio, sir,” said the butler, coming into the garden. “You must introduce me now,” cried Lord Henry, laughing. The painter turned to his servant, who stood blinking in the sunlight. “Ask Mr. Gray to wait, Parker: I shall be in in a few moments.” The man bowed, and went up the walk. Then he looked at Lord Henry. “Dorian Gray is my dearest friend, he said. He has a simple and a beautiful nature. Your aunt was quite right in what she said of him. Don’t spoil him. Don’t try to influence him. Your influence would be bad. The world is wide, and has many marvellous people in it. Don’t take away from me the one person who gives to my art whatever charm it possesses; my life as an artist depends on him. Mind, Harry, trust you.” He spoke very slowly, and the words seemed wrung out of him almost against his will. “What nonsense you talk!” said Lord Henry. smiling, and, taking Hallward by the arm, he almost led him into the house.
CHAPTER II
As they entered they saw Dorian Gray. He was seated at the piano, with his back to them, turning over the pages of a volume of Schumann’s “Forest Scenes.” “You must lend me these, Basil,” he cried. “I want to learn them. They are perfectly charming.” “That entirely depends on how you sit to-day. Dorian.” “Oh, I am tired of sitting, and I don’t want a life sized portrait of myself,” answered the lad, swinging round on the music-stool, in a wilful, petulant manner. When he caught sight of Lord Henry, a faint blush coloured his cheeks for a moment, and he started up. “I beg your pardon, Basil, but I didn’t know you had anyone with you.” “This is Lord Henry Wotton, Dorian, an old Oxford friend of mine. I have just been telling him what a capital sitter you were, and now you have spoiled everything.” “You have not spoiled my pleasure in meeting you, Mr. Gray,” said Lord Henry, stepping forward and extending his hand. “My aunt has often spoken to me about you. You are one of her favourites, and, I am afraid, one of her victims also.” “I am in Lady Agatha’s black books at present,” answered Dorian, with a funny look of penitence. “I promised to go to a club in Whitechapel with her last Tuesday, and I really forgot all about it. We were to have played a duet together—three duets, I believe. I don’t know what she will say to me. I am far too frightened to call.” “Oh, I will make your peace with my aunt. She is quite devoted to you. And I don’t think it really matters about your not being there. The audience probably thought it was a duet. When Aunt Agatha sits down to the piano she makes quite enough noise for two people.” “That is very horrid to her, and not very nice to me,” answered Dorian, laughing. Lord Henry looked at him. Yes, he was certainly wonderfully handsome, with his finely-curved scarlet lips, his frank blue eyes, his crisp gold hair. There was something in his face that made one trust him at once. All the candour of youth was there, as well as all youth’s passionate purity. One felt that he had kept himself unspotted from the world. No wonder Basil Hallward worshipped him. “You are too charming to go in for philanthropy, Mr. Gray—far too charming.” And Lord Henry flung himself down on the divan, and opened his cigarette-case. The painter had been busy mixing his colours and getting his brushes ready. He was looking worried, and when he heard Lord Henry’s last remark he glanced at him, hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Harry, I want to finish this picture to-day. Would you think it awfully rude of me if I asked you to go away?” Lord Henry smiled, and looked at Dorian Gray. he asked. “Am I to go, Mr. Gray?” “Oh, please don’t, Lord Henry. I see that Basil is in one of his sulky moods, and I can’t bear him when he sulks. Besides, I want you to tell me why I should not go in for philanthropy.” “I don’t know that I shall tell you that, Mr. Gray. It is so tedious a subject that one would have to talk seriously about it. But I certainly shall not run away, now that you have asked me to stop. You don’t really mind, Basil, do you? You have often told me that you liked your sitters to have someone to chat to.” Hallward bit his lip. “If Dorian wishes it, of course you must stay. Dorian’s whims are laws to everybody, except himself.” Lord Henry took up his hat and gloves. “You are very pressing, Basil, but I am afraid I must go. I have promised to meet a man at the Orleans. Good-bye, Mr. Gray. Come and see me some afternoon in Curzon Street. I am nearly always at home at five o’clock. Write to me when you are coming. I should be sorry to miss you.” “Basil,” cried Dorian Gray, “if Lord Henry Wotton goes I shall go too. You never open your lips while you are painting, and it is horribly dull standing on a platform and trying to look pleasant. Ask him to stay. I insist upon it.” “Stay, Harry, to oblige Dorian, and to oblige me,” said Hallward, gazing intently at his picture. “It is quite true, I never talk when I am working, and never listen either, and it must be dreadfully tedious for my unfortunate sitters. I beg you to stay.” “But what about my man at the Orleans?” The painter laughed. “I don’t think there will be any difficulty about that. Sit down again, Harry. And now, Dorian, get up on the platform, and don’t move about too much, or pay any attention to what Lord Henry says. He has a very bad influence over all his friends, with the single exception of myself.” Dorian Gray stepped up on the dais, with the air of a young Greek martyr, and made a little moue of discontent to Lord Henry, to whom he had rather taken a fancy. He was so unlike Basil. They made a delightful contrast. And he had such a beautiful voice. After a few moments he said to him, “Have you really a very bad influence, Lord Henry? As bad as Basil says?” “There is no such thing as a good influence, Mr. Gray. All influence is immoral—immoral from the scientific point of view.” “Why?” “Because to influence a person is to give him one’s own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of someone else’s music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realise one’s nature perfectly—that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one’s self. Of course they are charitable. They feed the hungry, and clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked. Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, which is the secret of religion—these are the two things that—govern us. And yet—” “Just turn your head a little more to the right, Dorian, like a good boy,” said the painter, deep in his work, and conscious only that a look had come into the lad’s face that he had never seen there before. “And yet,” continued Lord Henry, in his low, musical voice, and with that graceful wave of the hand that was always so characteristic of him, and that he had even in his Eton days, “I believe that if one man were to live out his life fully and completely, were to give form to every feeling, expression to every thought, reality to every dream—I believe that the world would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we would forget all the maladies of mediævalism, and return to the Hellenic ideal—to something finer, richer, than the Hellenic ideal, it may be. But the bravest man amongst us is afraid of himself. The mutilation of the savage has its tragic survival in the self-denial that mars our lives. We are punished for our refusals. Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind, and poisons us. The body sins once, and has done with its sin, for action is a mode of purification. Nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure, or the luxury of a regret. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. It has been said that the great events of the world take place in the brain. It is in the brain, and the brain only, that the great sins of the world take place also. You, Mr. Gray, you yourself, with your rose-red youth and your rose-white boyhood, you have had passions that have made you afraid, thoughts that have filled you with terror, day-dreams and sleeping dreams whose mere memory might stain your cheek with shame—” “Stop!” faltered Dorian Gray, “stop! you bewilder me. I don’t know what to say. There is some answer to you, but I cannot find it. Don’t speak. Let me think. Or, rather, let me try not to think.” For nearly ten minutes he stood there, motionless, with parted lips, and eyes strangely bright. He was dimly conscious that entirely fresh influences were at work within him. Yet they seemed to him to have come really from himself. The few words that Basil’s friend had said to him—words spoken by chance, no doubt, and with wilful paradox in them -had touched some secret chord that had never been touched before, but that he felt was now vibrating and throbbing to curious pulses. Music had stirred him like that. Music had troubled him many times. But music was not articulate. It was not a new world, but rather another chaos, that it created in us. Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words? Yes; there had been things in his boyhood that he had not understood. He understood them now. Life suddenly became fiery-coloured to him. It seemed to him that he had been walking in fire. Why had he not known it? With his subtle smile, Lord Henry watched him. He knew the precise psychological moment when to say nothing. He felt intensely interested. He was amazed at the sudden impression that his words had produced, and, remembering a book that he had read when he was sixteen, a book which had revealed to him much that he had not known before, he wondered whether Dorian Gray was passing through a similar experience. He had merely shot an arrow into the air. Had it hit the mark? How fascinating the lad was! Hallward painted away with that marvellous bold touch of his, that had the true refinement and perfect delicacy that in art, at any rate, comes only from strength. He was unconscious of the silence. “Basil, I am tired of standing,” cried Dorian Gray, suddenly. “I must go out and sit in the garden. The air is stifling here.” “My dear fellow, I am so sorry. When I am painting, I can’t think of anything else. But you never sat better. You were perfectly still. And I have caught the effect I wanted—the half-parted lips, and the bright look in the eyes. I don’t know what Harry has been saying to you, but he has certainly made you have the most wonderful expression. I suppose he has been paying you compliments. You mustn’t believe a word that he says.” “He has certainly not been paying me compliments. Perhaps that is the reason that I don’t believe anything he has told me.” “You know you believe it all,” said Lord Henry, looking at him with his dreamy, languorous eyes. “I will go out to the garden with you. It is horribly hot in the studio. Basil, let us have something iced to drink, something with strawberries in it.” “Certainly, Harry. Just touch the bell, and when Parker comes I will tell him what you want. I have got to work up this background, so I will join you later on. Don’t keep Dorian too long. I have never been in better form for painting than I am to-day. This is going to be my masterpiece. It is my masterpiece as it stands.” Lord Henry went out to the garden, and found Dorian Gray burying his face in the great cool lilac blossoms, feverishly drinking in their perfume as if it had been wine. He came close to him, and put his hand upon his shoulder. “You are quite right to do that,” he murmured. “Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.” The lad started and drew back. He was bareheaded, and the leaves had tossed his rebellious curls and tangled all their gilded threads. There was a look of fear in his eyes, such as people have when they are suddenly awakened. His finely-chiselled nostrils quivered, and some hidden nerve shook the scarlet of his lips and left them trembling. “Yes,” continued Lord Henry, “that is one of the great secrets of life—to cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of the soul. You are a wonderful creation. You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know.” Dorian Gray frowned and turned his head away. He could not help liking the tall, graceful young man who was standing by him. His romantic olive-coloured face and worn expression interested him. There was something in his low, languid voice that was absolutely fascinating. His cool, white, flowerlike hands, even, had a curious charm. They moved, as he spoke, like music, and seemed to have a language of their own. But he felt afraid of him, and ashamed of being afraid. Why had it been left for a stranger to reveal him to himself? He had known Basil Hallward for months, but the friendship between them had never altered him. Suddenly there had come someone across his life who seemed to have disclosed to him life’s mystery. And, yet, what was there to be afraid of? He was not a schoolboy or a girl. It was absurd to be frightened. “Let us go and sit in the shade,” said Lord Henry. “Parker has brought out the drinks, and if you stay any longer in this glare you will be quite spoiled, and Basil will never paint you again. You really must not allow yourself to become sunburnt. It would be unbecoming.” “What can it matter?” cried Dorian Gray, laughing, as he sat down on the seat at the end of the garden. “It should matter everything to you, Mr. Gray.” “Why?” “Because you have the most marvellous youth. and youth is the one thing worth having.” “I don’t feel that, Lord Henry.” “No, you don’t feel it now. Some day, when you are old and wrinkled and ugly, when thought has seared your forehead with its lines, and passion branded your lips with its hideous fires, you will feel It, you will feel it terribly. Now, wherever you go, you charm the world. Will it always be so?… You have a wonderfully beautiful face, Mr. Gray. Don’t frown. You have. And Beauty is a form of Genius—is higher, Indeed, than Genius, as it needs no explanation. It is of the great facts of the world, like sunlight, or spring-time, or the reflection in dark waters of that silver shell we call the moon. It cannot be questioned. It has its divine right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it. You smile? Ah! when you have lost it you won’t smile…. People say sometimes that Beauty is only superficial. That may be so. But at least it is not so superficial as Thought is. To me, Beauty is the wonder of wonders. It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances. The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible…. Yes, Mr. Gray, the gods have been good to you. But what the gods give they quickly take away. You have only a few years in which to live really, perfectly, and fully. When your youth goes, your beauty will go with it, and then you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you, or have to content yourself with those mean triumphs that the memory of your past will make more bitter than defeats. Every month as it wanes brings you nearer to something dreadful. Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses. You will become sallow, and hollow-cheeked, and dull-eyed. You will suffer horribly…. Ah! realise your youth while you have it. Don’t squander the gold of your days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common, and the vulgar. These are the sickly aims, the false ideals, of our age. Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing…. A new Hedonism—that is what our century wants. You might be its visible symbol. With your personality there is nothing you could not do. The world belongs to you for a season…. The moment I met you l saw that you were quite unconscious of what you really are, of what you really might be. There was so much in you that charmed me that I felt I must tell you something about yourself. I thought how tragic it would be if you were wasted. For there is such a little time that your youth will last—such a little time. The common hill-flowers wither, but they blossom again. The laburnum will be as yellow next June as it is now. In a month there will be purple stars on the clematis, and year after year the green night of its leaves will hold its purple stars. But we never get back our youth. The pulse of joy that beats in us at twenty, becomes sluggish. Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to. Youth! Youth! There is absolutely nothing in the world but youth!” Dorian Gray listened, open-eyed and wondering. The spray of lilac fell from his hand upon the gravel. A furry bee came and buzzed round it for a moment. Then it began to scramble all over the oval stellated globe of the tiny blossoms. He watched it with that strange interest in trivial things that we try to develop when things of high import make us afraid, or when we are stirred by some new emotion for which we cannot find expression, or when some thought that terrifies us lays sudden siege to the brain and calls on us to yield. After a time the bee flew away. He saw it creeping into the stained trumpet of a Tyrian convolvulus. The flower seemed to quiver. and then swayed gently to and fro. Suddenly the painter appeared at the door of the studio, and made staccato signs for them to come in. They turned to each other, and smiled. “I am walting,” he cried. “Do come in. The light is quite perfect, and you can bring your drinks.” They rose up, and sauntered down the walk together. Two green-and-white butterflies fluttered past them, and in the pear-tree at the corner of the garden a thrush began to sing. “You are glad you have met me, Mr. Gray,” said Lord Henry, looking at him. “Yes, I am glad now. I wonder shall I always be glad?” “Always! That is a dreadful word. It makes me shudder when I hear it. Women are so fond of using it. They spoil every romance by trying to make it last for ever. It is a meaningless word, too. The only difference between a caprice and a life-long passion is that the caprice lasts a little longer.” As they entered the studio, Dorian Gray put his hand upon Lord Henry’s arm. “In that case, let our friendship be a caprice,” he murmured, flushing at his own boldness, then stepped up on the platform and resumed his pose. Lord Henry flung himself into a large wicker armchair, and watched him. The sweep and dash of the brush on the canvas made the only sound that broke the stillness, except when, now and then, Hallward stepped back to look at his work from a distance. In the slanting beams that streamed through the open doorway the dust danced and was golden. The heavy scent of the roses seemed to brood over everything. After about a quarter of an hour Hallward stopped painting, looked for a long time at Dorian Gray, and then for a long time at the picture, biting the end of one of his huge brushes, and frowning. “It is quite finished,” he cried at last, and stooping down he wrote his name in long vermilion letters on the lefthand corner of the canvas. Lord Henry came over and examined the picture. It was certainly a wonderful work of art, and a wonderful likeness as well. “My dear fellow, I congratulate you most warmly,” he said. “It is the finest portrait of modern times. Mr. Gray, come over and look at yourself.” The lad started, as if awakened from some dream. “Is it really finished?” he murmured, stepping down from the platform. “Quite finished,” said the painter. “And you have sat splendidly to-day. I am awfully obliged to you.” “That is entirely due to me,” broke in Lord Henry. “Isn’t it, Mr. Gray?” Dorian made no answer, but passed listlessly in front of his picture, and turned towards it. When he saw it he drew back, and his cheeks flushed for a moment with pleasure. A look of joy came into his eyes, as if he had recognised himself for the first time. He stood there motionless and in wonder, dimly conscious that Hållward was speaking to him, but not catching the meaning of his words. The sense of his own beauty came on him like a revelation. He had never felt it before. Basil Hallward’s compliments had seemed to him to be merely the charMing exaggerations of friendship. He had listened to them, laughed at them, forgotten them. They had not influenced his nature. Then had come Lord Henry Wotton with his strange panegyric on youth, his terrible warning of its brevity. That had stirred him at the time, and now, as he stood gazing at the shadow of his own loveliness, the full reality of the description flashed across him. Yes, there would be a day when his face would be wrinkled and wizen, his eyes dim and colourless, the grace of his figure broken and deformed. The scarlet would pass away from his lips, and the gold steal from his hair. The life that was to make his soul would mar his body. He would become dreadful, hideous, and uncouth. As he thought of it, a sharp pang of pain struck through him like a knife, and made each delicate fibre of his nature quiver. His eyes deepened into amethyst, and across them came a mist of tears. He felt as if a hand of ice had been laid upon his heart. “Don’t you like it?” cried Hallward at last. stung a little by the lad’s silence, not understanding what it meant. “Of course he likes it,” said Lord Henry. “Who wouldn’t like it? It is one of the greatest things in modern art. I will give you anything you like to ask for it. I must have it.” “It is not my property, Harry.” “Whose property is it?” “Dorian’s, of course,” answered the painter. “He is a very lucky fellow.” “How sad it is!” murmured Dorian Gray, with his eyes still fixed upon his own portrait. “How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of June…. If it were only the other way! If it were I who was to be always young, and the picture that was to grow old! For that—for that—I would give everything! Yes, there is nothing in the whole world I would not give! I would give my soul for that!” “ You would hardly care for such an arrangement. Basil,” cried Lord Henry, laughing. “It would be rather hard lines on your work.” “I should object very strongly, Harry,” said Hallward. Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. “I believe you would, Basil. You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I daresay.” The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorlan to speak like that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his cheeks burning. “Yes,” he continued, “I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one loses one’s good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself.” Hallward turned pale, and caught his hand. “Dorian! Dorian!” he cried, “don’t talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have such another. You are not jealous of material things, are you?—you who are finer than any of them!” “I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. I am jealous of the portrait you have painted of me. Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes takes something from me, and gives something to it. Oh, if it were only the other way! If the picture could change, and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint it? It will mock me some day—mock me horribly” The hot tears welled into his eyes; he tore his hand away, and, flinging himself on the divan, he buried his face in the cushions, as though he was praying. “This is your doing, Harry,” said the painter, bitterly. Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. “It is the real Dorian Gray—that is all.” “It is not.” “If it is not, what have I to do with it?” “You should have gone away when I asked you,” he muttered. “I stayed when you asked me,” was Lord Henry’s answer. “Harry, I can’t quarrel with my two best friends at once, but between you both you have made me hate the finest piece of work I have ever done, and I will destroy it. What is it but canvas and colour? I will not let it come across our three lives and mar them”. Dorian Gray lifted his golden head from the pillow, and with pallid face and tear-stained eyes looked at him, as he walked over to the deal painting-table that was set beneath the high curtained window. What was he doing there? His fingers were straying about among the litter of tin tubes and dry brushes, seeking for something. Yes, it was for the long palette-knife, with its thin blade of lithe steel. He had found it at last. He was going to rip up the canvas. With a stifled sob the lad leaped from the couch, and, rushing over to Hallward, tore the knife out of his hand, and flung it to the end of the studio. “Don’t, Basil, don’t!” he cried. “It would be murder!” “I am glad you appreciate my work at last, Dorian,” said the painter, coldly, when he had recovered from his surprise. “I never thought you would.” “Appreciate it? I am in love with it, Basil. It is part of myself. I feel that.” “Well, as soon as you are dry, you shall be varnished, and framed, and sent home. Then you can do what you like with yourself.” And he walked across the room and rang the bell for tea. “You will have tea, of course, Dorian? And so will you. Harry? Or do you object to such simple pleasures?” “I adore simple pleasures,” said Lord Henry. “They are the last refuge of the complex. But I don’t like scenes, except on the stage. What absurd fellows you are, both of you! I wonder who it was defined man as a rational animal. It was the most premature definition ever given. Man is many things, but he is not rational. I am glad he is not, after all: though I wish you chaps would not squabble over the picture. You had much better let me have it, Basil. This silly boy doesn’t really want it, and I really do.” “If you let anyone have it but me, Basil, I shall never forgive you!” cried Dorian Gray; “and I don’t allow people to call me a silly boy.” “You know the picture is yours, Dorian. I gave it to you before it existed.” “And you know you have been a little silly, Mr. Gray, and that you don’t really object to being reminded that you are extremely young.” “I should have objected very strongly this morning, Lord Henry.” “Ah! this morning! You have lived since then.” There came a knock at the door, and the butler entered with a laden tea-tray and set it down upon a small Japanese table. There was a rattle of cups and saucers and the hissing of a fluted Georgian urn. Two globe-shaped china dishes were brought in by a page. Dorian Gray went over and poured out the tea. The two men sauntered languidly to the table, and examined what was under the covers. “Let us go to the theatre to-night,” said Lord Henry. “There is sure to be something on, somewhere. I have promised to dine at White’s, but it is only with an old friend, so I can send him a wire to say that I am ill, or that I am prevented from coming in consequence of a subsequent engagement. I think that would be a rather nice excuse: it would have all the surprise of candour.” “It is such a bore putting on one’s dress-clothes.” muttered Hallward. “And, when one has them on, they are so horrid.” “Yes,” answered Lord Henry, dreamily, “the costume of the nineteenth century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colour-element left in modern life.” “You really must not say things like that before Dorian, Harry.” “Before which Dorian? The one who is pouring out tea for us, or the one in the picture?” “Before either.” “I should like to come to the theatre with you, Lord Henry,” said the lad. “Then you shall come; and you will come too, Basil, won’t you?” “I can’t really. I would sooner not. I have a lot of work to do.” “Well, then, you and I will go alone, Mr. Gray.” “I should like that awfully.” The painter bit his lip and walked over, cup in hand, to the picture. “I shall stay with the real Dorlan,” he said, sadly. “Is it the real Dorian?” cried the original of the portrait, strolling across to him. “Am I really like that?” “Yes; you are just like that.” “How wonderful, Basil!” “At least you are like it in appearance. But It will never alter,” sighed Hallward. “That is something.” “What a fuss people make about fidelity!” exclaimed Lord Henry. “Why, even in love it is purely a question for physiology. It has nothing to do with our own will. Young men want to be faithful, and are not; old men want to be faithless, and cannot: that is all one can say.” “Don’t go to the theatre to-night, Dorian,” said Hallward. “Stop and dine with me.” “I can’t, Basil.” “Why?” “Because I have promised Lord Henry Wotton to go with him.” “He won’t like you the better for keeping your promises. He always breaks his own. I beg you not to go.” Dorian Gray laughed and shook his head. “I entreat you.” The lad hesitated, and looked over at Lord Henry, who was watching them from the tea-table with an amused smile. “I must go, Basil,” he answered. “Very well,” said Hallward; and he went over “It is rather and laid down his cup on the tray. and, as you have to dress, you had better lose late, time. Good-bye, Harry. Good-bye, Dorian. no Come and see me soon. Come to-morrow.” “Certainly.” “You won’t forget?” “No, of course not,” cried Dorian. “And… Harry!” “Yes, Basil?” “Remember what I asked you, when we were in the garden this morning.” “I have forgotten it.” “I trust you.” “I wish I could trust myself,” said Lord Henry, “Come, Mr. Gray, my hansom is outlaughing. side, and I can drop you at your own place. Goodbye, Basil. It has been a most interesting afternoon.” As the door closed behind them, the painter flung himself down on a sofa, and a look of pain came into his face.
CHAPTER III
At half-past twelve next day Lord Henry Wotton strolled from Curzon Street over to the Albany to call on his uncle, Lord Fermor, a genial if somewhat rough-mannered old bachelor, whom the outside world called selfish because it derived no particular benefit from him, but who was considered generous by Society as he fed the people who amused him. His father had been our ambassador at Madrid when Isabella was young, and Prim unthought of, but had retired from the Diplomatic Service in a capricious moment of annoyance at not being offered the Embassy at Paris, a post to which he considered that he was fully entitled by reason of his birth, his indolence, the good English of his despatches, and his Inordinate passion for pleasure. The son, who had been his father’s secretary, had resigned along with his chief, somewhat foolishly as was thought at the time, and on succeeding some months later to the title, had set himself to the serious study of the great aristocratic art of doing absolutely nothing. He had two large town houses, but preferred to live in chambers, as it was less trouble, and took most of his meals at his club. He paid some attention to the management of his collieries in the Midland counties, excusing himself for this taint of industry on the ground that the one advantage of having coal was that it enabled a gentleman to afford the decency of burning wood on his own hearth. In politics he was a Tory, except when the Tories were in office, during which period he roundly abused them for being a pack of Radicals. He was a hero to his valet, who bullied him, and a terror to most of his relations, whom he bullied in turn. Only England could have produced him, and he always said that the country was going to the dogs. His principles were out of date, but there was a good deal to be said for his prejudices. When Lord Henry entered the room, he found his uncle sitting in a rough shooting coat, smoking a cheroot, and grumbling over The Times. “Well, Harry,” said the old gentleman, “what brings you out so early? I thought you dandies never got up till two, and were not visible till five.” “Pure family affection, I assure you, Uncle George. I want to get something out of you.” “Money, I suppose,” said Lord Fermor, making a wry face. “Well, sit down and tell me all about it. Young people, nowadays, imagine that money is everything.” “Yes,” murmured Lord Henry, settling his button hole in his coat; “and when they grow older they know it. But I don’t want money. It is only people who pay their bills who want that, Uncle George, and I never pay mine. Credit is the capital of a younger son, and one lives charmingly upon it. Besides, I always deal with Dartmoor’s tradesmen, and consequently they never bother me. What I want is information; not useful information, of course; useless information.” “Well, I can tell you anything that is in an English Blue-book, Harry, although those fellows nowadays write a lot of nonsense. When I was in the Diplomatic, things were much better. But I hear they let them in now by examination. What can you expect? Examinations, sir, are pure humbug from beginning to end. If a man is a gentleman, he knows quite enough, and if he is not a gentleman, whatever he knows is bad for him.” “Mr. Dorian Gray does not belong to Blue-books, Uncle George,” said Lord Henry, languidly. “Mr. Dorian Gray? Who is he?” asked Lord Fermor, knitting his bushy white eyebrows. “That is what I have come to learn, Uncle George. Or rather, I know who he is. He is the last Lord Kelso’s grandson. His mother was a Devereux; Lady Margaret Devereux. I want you to tell me about his mother. What was she like? Whom did she marry? You have known nearly everybody in your time, so you might have known her. I am very much interested in Mr. Gray at present. I have only just met him.” “Kelso’s grandson!” echoed the old gentleman.—“Kelso’s grandson!… Of course…. I knew his mother intimately. I believe I was at her christening. She was an extraordinarily beautiful girl, Margaret Devereux; and made all the men frantic by running away with a penniless young fellow; a mere nobody, sir, a subaltern in a foot regiment, or something of that kind. Certainly. I remember the whole thing as if it happened yesterday. The poor chap was killed in a duel at Spa, a few months after the marriage. There was an ugly story about it. They said Kelso got some rascally adventurer, some Belgian brute, to insult his son-in-law in public; paid him, sir, to do it, paid him; and that the fellow spitted his man as if he had been a pigeon. The thing was hushed up, but, egad, Kelso ate his chop alone at the club for some time afterwards. He brought his daughter back with him, I was told, and she never spoke to him again. Oh, yes; it was a bad business. The girl died too; died within a year. So she left a son, did she? I had forgotten that. What sort of boy is he? If he is like his mother he must be a good-looking chap.” “He is very good-looking,” assented Lord Henry, “I hope he will fall into proper hands,” continued the old man. “He should have a pot of money waiting for him if Kelso did the right thing by him. His mother had money too. All the Selby property came to her, through her grandfather. Her grandfather hated Kelso, thought him a mean dog. He was, too. Came to Madrid once when I was there. Egad, I was ashamed of him. The Queen used to ask me about the English noble who was always quarrelling with the cabmen about their fares. They made quite a story of it. didn’t dare to show my face at Court for a month. I hope he treated his grandson better than he did the jarvies.” “I don’t know,” answered Lord Henry. “I fancy that the boy will be well off. He is not of age yet. He has Selby, I know. He told me so. And… his mother was very beautiful?” “Margaret Devereux was one of the loveliest creatures I ever saw, Harry. What on earth induced her to behave as she did, I never could understand. She could have married anybody she chose. Carlington was mad after her. She was romantic, though. All the women of that family were. The men were a poor lot, but, egad! the women were wonderful. Carlington went on his knees to her. Told me so himself. She laughed at him, and there wasn’t a girl in London at the time who wasn’t after him. And by the way, Harry, talking about silly marriages, what is this humbug your father tells me about Dartmoor wanting to marry an American? Ain’t English girls good enough for him?” “It is rather fashionable to marry Americans just now, Uncle George.” “I’ll back English women against the world, Hally,” said Lord Fermor, striking the table with his fist. “The betting is on the Americans.” “They don’t last, I am told,” muttered his uncle. “A long engagement exhausts them, but they are capital at a steeplechase. They take things flying, I don’t think Dartmoor has a chance.” “Who are her people?” grumbled the old gentleman. “Has she got any?” “American girls are Lord Henry shook his head. as clever at concealing their parents as English women are at concealing their past,” he said, rising to go. “They are pork-packers, I suppose?” “I hope so, Uncle George, for Dartmoor’s sake. I am told that pork-packing is the most lucrative profession in America, after politics.” “Is she pretty?” “She behaves as if she was beautiful. Most American women do. It is the secret of their charm.” “Why can’t these American women stay in their own country? They are always telling us that it is the Paradise for women.” “It is. That is the reason why, like Eve, they are so excessively auxious to get out of it,” said Lord Henry “Good-bye, Uncle George. I shall be late for lunch, if I stop any longer. Thanks for giving me the information I wanted. I always like to know everything about my new friends, and nothing about my old ones.” “Where are you lunching, Harry?” “At Aunt Agatha’s. I have asked myself and Mr. Gray. He is her latest protégé.” “Humph! tell your Aunt Agatha, Harry, not to bother me any more with her charity appeals. I am sick of them. Why, the good woman thinks that I have nothing to do but to write cheques for her silly fads.” “All right, Uncle George, I’ll tell her, but it won’t have any effect. Philanthropic people lose all sense of humanity. It is their distinguishing characteristic.” The old gentleman growled approvingly, and rang the bell for his servant. Lord Henry passed up the low arcade into Burlington Street, and turned his steps in the direction of Berkeley Square. So that was the story of Dorian Gray’s parentage. Crudely as it had been told to him, it had yet stirred him by its suggestion of a strange, almost modern romance. A beautiful woman risking everything for a mad passion. A few wild weeks of happiness cut short by a hideous, treacherous crime. Months of voiceless agony, and then a child born in pain. The mother snatched away by death, the boy left to solitude and the tyranny of an old and loveless man. Yes; It was an interesting background. It posed the lad, made him more perfect as it were. Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic. Worlds had to be in travail, that the meanest And how charming he had flower might blow… been at dinner the night before, as, with startled eyes and lips parted in frightened pleasure, he had sat opposite to him at the club, the red candleshades staining to a richer rose the wakening wonder of his face. Talking to him was like playing upon an exquisite violin. He answered to every touch and thrill of the bow…. There was something terribly enthralling in the exercise of influence. No other activity was like it. To project one’s soul into some gracious form, and let it tarry there for a moment; to hear one’s own intellectual views echoed back to one with all the added music of passion and youth; to convey one’s temperament into another as though It were a subtle fluid or a strange perfume; there was a real joy in that—perhaps the most satisfying joy left to us in an age so limited and vulgar as our own, an age grossly carnal in its pleasures, and grossly common in its aims…. He was a marvellous type, too, this lad, whom by so curious a chance he had met in Basil’s studio; or could be fashioned into a marvellous type, at any rate. Grace was his, and the white purity of boyhood, and beauty such as old Greek marbles kept for us. There was nothing that one could not do with him. He could be made a Titan or a toy. What a pity it was that such beauty was destined to fade!… And Basil? From a psychological point of view, how interesting he was! The new manner in art, the fresh mode of looking at life, suggested so strangely by the merely visible presence of one who was unconscious of it all; the silent spirit that dwelt in dim woodland, and walked unseen in open field, suddenly showing herself, Dryad-like and not afraid, because in his soul who sought for her there had been wakened that wonderful vision to which alone are wonderful things revealed; the mere shapes and patterns of things becoming, as it were, refined, and gaining a kind of symbolical value, as though they were themselves patterns of some other and more perfect form whose shadow they made real: how strange it all was! He remembered something like it in history. Was it not Plato, that artist in thought, who had first analysed it? Was it not Buonarotti who had carved it in the coloured marbles of a sonnet-sequence? But in our own century it was strange…. Yes; he would try to be to Dorian Gray what, without knowing it, the lad was to the painter who had fashioned the wonderful portrait. He would seek to dominate him—had already, indeed, half done so. He would make that wonderful spirit his own. There was something fascinating in this son of Love and Death. Suddenly he stopped, and glanced up at the houses. He found that he had passed his aunt’s some distance, and, smiling to himself, turned back. When he entered the somewhat sombre hall the butler told him that they had gone in to lunch. He gave one of the footmen his hat and stick, and passed into the dining-room. “Late as usual, Harry,” cried his aunt, shaking her head at him. He invented a facile excuse, and having taken the vacant seat next to her, looked round to see who was there. Dorian bowed to him shyly from the end of the table, a flush of pleasure stealing into his cheek. Opposite was the Duchess of Harley; a lady of admirable good-nature and good temper, much liked by everyone who knew her, and of those ample architectural proportions that in women who are not Duchesses are described by contemporary historians as stoutness. Next to her sat, on her right, Sir Thomas Burdon, a Radical member of Parliament, who followed his leader in public life, and in private life followed the best cooks, dining with the Tories, and thinking with the Liberals, in accordance with a wise and well-known rule. The post on her left was occupied by Mr. Erskine of Treadley, an old gentleman of considerable charm and culture, who had fallen, however, into bad habits of silence, having, as he explained once to Lady Agatha, said everything that he had to say before he was thirty. His own neighbour was Mrs. Vandeleur, one of his aunt’s oldest friends, a perfect saint amongst women, but so dreadfully dowdy that she reminded one of a badly bound hymn-book. Fortunately for him she had on the other side Lord Faudel, a most intelligent middle-aged mediocrity, as bald as a Ministerial statement in the House of Commons, with whom she was conversing in that intensely earnest manner which is the one unpardonable error, as he remarked once himself, that all really good people fall into, and from which none of them ever quite escape. “We are talking about poor Dartmoor, Lord Henry,” cried the Duchess, nodding pleasantly to him across the table. “Do you think he will really marry this fascinating young person?” “I believe she has made up her mind to propose to him, Duchess.” “How dreadful!” exclaimed Lady Agatha. “Really, someone should interfere.” “I am told, on excellent authority that her father keeps an American dry-goods store,” said Sir Thomas Burdon, looking supercilious. “My uncle has already suggested pork-packing, Sir Thomas.” “Dry-goods! What are American dry-goods?” asked the Duchess, raising her large hands in wonder, and accentuating the verb. “American novels,” answered Lord Henry, helping himself to some quail. The Duchess looked puzzled. “Don’t mind him, my dear,” whispered Lady Agatha “He never means anything that he says.” “When America was discovered,” said the Radical member, and he began to give some wearisome facts. Like all people who try to exhaust a subject, he exhausted his listeners. The Duchess sighed, and exercised her privilege of interruption. “I wish to goodness it never had been discovered at all!” she exclaimed. “Really, our girls have no chance nowadays. It is most unfair.” “Perhaps, after all, America never has been discovered,” said Mr. Erskine. “I myself would say that it had merely been detected.” “Oh! but I have seen specimens of the inhabitants,” answered the Duchess, vaguely. “I must confess that most of them are extremely pretty. And they dress well, too. They get all their dresses in Paris. I wish I could afford to do the same.” “They say that when good Americans die they go to Paris,” chuckled Sir Thomas, who had a large wardrobe of Humour’s cast-off clothes. “Really! And where do bad Americans go to when they die?” inquired the Duchess. “They go to America,” murmured Lord Henry. Sir Thomas frowned. “I am afraid that your nephew is prejudiced against that great country,” he said to Lady Agatha. “I have travelled all over it, in cars provided by the directors, who, in such matters, are extremely civil. I assure you that it is an education to visit it.” “But must we really see Chicago in order to be educated?” asked Mr. Erskine, plaintively. “I don’t feel up to the journey.” Sir Thomas waved his hand. “Mr. Erskine of Treadley has the world on his shelves. We practical men like to see things, not to read about them. The Americans are an extremely interesting people. They are absolutely reasonable. I think that is their distinguishing characteristic. Yes, Mr. Erskine, an absolutely reasonable people. I assure you there is no nonsense about the Americans.” “How dreadful!” cried Lord Henry. “I can stand brute force, but brute reason is quite unbearable. There is something unfair about its use. It is hitting below the intellect.” “I do not understand you,” said Sir Thomas, growing rather red. “I do, Lord Henry,” murmured Mr. Erskine, with a smile. “Paradoxes are all very well in their way….” rejoined the Baronet. “Was that a paradox?” asked Mr. Erskine. “I did not think so. Perhaps it was. Well, the way of paradoxes is the way of truth. To test Reality we must see it on the tight-rope. When the Verities become acrobats we can judge them.” “Dear me!” said Lady Agatha, “how you men argue! I am sure I never can make out what you are talking about. Oh! Harry, I am quite vexed with you. Why do you try to persuade our nice Mr. Dorian Gray to give up the East End? I assure you he would be quite invaluable. They would love his playing.” “I want him to play to me,” cried Lord Henry, smiling, and he looked down the table and caught a bright answering glance. “But they are so unhappy in Whitechapel,” continued Lady Agatha. “I can sympathise with everything, except suffering,” said Lord Henry, shrugging his shoulders. “I cannot sympathise with that. It is too ugly, too horrible, too distressing. There is something terribly morbid in the modern sympathy with pain. One should sympathise with the colour, the beauty, the joy of life. The less said about life’s sores the better.” “Still, the East End is a very important problem,” remarked Sir Thomas, with a grave shake of the head. “Quite so,” answered the young lord. “It is the problem of slavery, and we try to solve it by amusing the slaves.” The politician looked at him keenly. “What change do you propose, then?” he asked. Lord Henry laughed. “I don’t desire to change anything in England except the weather,” he answered. “I am quite content with philosophic contemplation. But, as the nineteenth century has gone bankrupt through an over-expenditure of sympathy, I would suggest that we should appeal to Science to put us straight. The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray, and the advantage of Science is that it is not emotional.” “But we have such grave responsibilities,” ventured Mrs. Vandeleur, timidly. “Terribly grave,” echoed Lady Agatha. Lord Henry looked over at Mr. Erskine. “Humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world’s original sin. If the caveman had known how to laugh, History would have been different.” “You are really very comforting,” warbled the Duchess. “I have always felt rather guilty when I came to see your dear aunt, for I take no interest at all in the East End. For the future I shall be able to look her in the face without a blush.” “A blush is very becoming, Duchess,” remarked Lord Henry. “Only when one is young,” she answered. “When an old woman like myself blushes, it is a very bad sign. Ah! Lord Henry, I wish you would tell me how to become young again.” He thought for a moment. “Can you remember any great error that you committed in your early days, Duchess?” he asked, looking at her across the table. “A great many, I fear,” she cried. “Then commit them over again,” he said, gravely, “To get back one’s youth, one has merely to repeat one’s follies.” “A delightful theory!” she exclaimed. “I must put it into practice.” “A dangerous theory!” came from Sir Thomas’s tight lips. Lady Agatha shook her head, but could not help being amused. Mr. Erskine listened. “Yes,” he continued, “that is one of the great secrets of life. Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one’s mistakes.” A laugh ran round the table. He played with the idea, and grew wilful; tossed it into the air and transformed it; let it escape and recaptured it; made it iridescent with fancy, and winged it with paradox. The praise of folly, as he went on, soared into a philosophy, and Philosophy herself became young, and catching the mad music of Pleasure, wearing, one might fancy, her wine-stained robe and wreath of ivy, danced like a Bacchante over the hills of life, and mocked the slow Silenus for being sober. Facts fled before her like frightened forest things. Her white feet trod the huge press at which wise Omar sits, till the seething grape-juice rose round her bare limbs in waves of purple bubbles, or crawled in red foam over the vat’s black, dripping, sloping sides. It was an extraordinary improvisation. He felt that the eyes of Dorian Gray were fixed on him, and the conscious ness that amongst his audience there was one whose temperament he wished to fascinate, seemed to give his wit keenness, and to lend colour to his imagination. He was brilliant, fantastic, irresponsible. He charmed his listeners out of themselves, and they followed his pipe laughing. Dorian Gray never took his gaze off him, but sat like one under a spell, smiles chasing each other over his lips, and wonder growing grave in his darkening eyes. At last, liveried in the costume of the age, Reality entered the room in the shape of a servant to tell the Duchess that her carriage was waiting. She wrung her hands in mock despair. “How annoying!” she cried. “I must go. I have to call for my husband at the club, to take him to some absurd meeting at Willis’s Rooms, where he is going to be in the chair. If I am late, he is sure to be furious, and I couldn’t have a scene in this bonnet. It is far too fragile. A harsh word would ruin it. No, I must go, dear Agatha. Good-bye, Lord Henry, you are quite delightful, and dreadfully demoralising. I am sure I don’t know what to say about your views. You must come and dine with us some night. Tuesday? Are you disengaged Tuesday?” “For you I would throw over anybody, Duchess,” said Lord Henry, with a bow. “Ah! that is very nice, and very wrong of you,” she cried; “so mind you come;” and she swept out of the room, followed by Lady Agatha and the other ladies. When Lord Henry had sat down again, Mr. Erskine moved round, and taking a chair close to him, placed his hand upon his arm. “You talk books away,” he said; “why don’t you write one?” “I am too fond of reading books to care to write them, Mr. Erskine. I should like to write a novel certainly; a novel that would be as lovely as a Persian carpet, and as unreal. But there is no literary public in England for anything except newspapers, primers, and encyclopædias. Of all people in the world the English have the least sense of the beauty of literature.” “I fear you are right,” answered Mr. Erskine. “I myself used to have literary ambitions, but I gave them up long ago. And now, my dear young friend, if you will allow me to call you so, may I ask if you really meant all that you said to us at lunch?” “I quite forget what I said,” smiled Lord Henry. “Was it all very bad?” “Very bad indeed. In fact I consider you extremely dangerous, and if anything happens to our good Duchess we shall all look on you as being primarily responsible. But I should like to talk to you about life. The generation into which I was born was tedious. Some day, when you are tired of London, come down to Treadley, and expound to me your philosophy of pleasure over some admirable Burgundy I am fortunate enough to possess.” “I shall be charmed. A visit to Treadley would be a great privilege. It has a perfect host, and a perfect library.” “You will complete it,” answered the old gentleman, with a courteous bow. “And now I must bid good-bye to your excellent aunt. I am due at the Athenæum. It is the hour when we sleep there.” “All of you, Mr. Erskine?” “Forty of us, in forty arm-chairs. We are practising for an English Academy of Letters.” Lord Henry laughed, and rose. “I am going to the Park,” he cried. As he was passing out of the door Dorian Gray touched him on the arm. “Let me come with you,” he murmured. “But I thought you had promised Basil Hallward to go and see him,” answered Lord Henry. “ I would sooner come with you; yes, I feel I must come with you. Do let me. And you will promise to talk to me all the time? No one talks so wonderfully as you do.” “Ah! I have talked quite enough for to-day,” said Lord Henry, smiling. “All I want now is to look at life. You may come and look at it with me, if you care to.”
CHAPTER IV
One afternoon, a month later, Dorian Gray was reclining in a luxurious arm-chair, in the little library of Lord Henry’s house in Mayfair. It was, in its way, a very charming room, with its high-panelled wainscoting of olive-stained oak, its cream-coloured frieze and celling of raised plaster-work, and its brickdust felt carpet strewn with silk long-fringed Persian rugs. On a tiny satinwood table stood a statuette by Clodion, and beside it lay a copy of “Les Cent Nouvelles,” bound for Margaret of Valois by Clovis Eve, and powdered with the gilt daisies that Queen had selected for her device. Some large blue china jars and parrot-tulips were ranged on the mantelshelf, and through the small leaded panels of the window streamed the apricot-coloured light of a summer day in London. Lord Henry had not yet come in. He was always late on principle, his principle being that punctuality is the thief of time. So the lad was looking rather sulky, as with listless fingers he turned over the pages of an elaborately-illustrated edition of “Manon Lescaut” that he had found in one of the bookcases. The formal monotonous ticking of the Louis Quatorze clock annoyed him. Once or twice he thought of going away. At last he heard a step outside, and the door opened. “How late you are, Harry!” he murmured. “I am afraid it is not Harry, Mr. Gray,” answered shrill voice. He glanced quickly round, and rose to his feet. “I beg your pardon. I thought—” “You thought it was my husband. It is only his wife. You must let me introduce myself. I know you quite well by your photographs. I think my husband has got seventeen of them.” “Not seventeen, Lady Henry?” “Well, eighteen, then. And I saw you with him the other night at the Opera.” She laughed nervously as she spoke, and watched him with her vague forget-me-not eyes. She was a curious woman, whose dresses always looked as if they had been designed in a rage and put on in a tempest. She was usually in love with somebody, and, as her passion was never returned, she had kept all her illusions. She tried to look picturesque, but only succeeded in being untidy. Her name was Victoria, and she had a perfect mania for going to church. “That was at’ Lohengrin, Lady Henry, I think?” “Yes; it was at dear ‘Lohengrin.’ I like Wagner’s music better than anybody’s. It is so loud that one can talk the whole time without other people hearing what one says. That is a great advantage: don’t you think so, Mr. Gray?” The same nervous staccato laugh broke from her thin lips, and her fingers began to play with a long tortoise-shell paper-knife. Dorian smiled, and shook his head: “I am afraid I don’t think so, Lady Henry. I never talk during music, at least, during good music. If one hears bad music, it is one’s duty to drown it in conversation.” “Ah! that is one of Harry’s views, isn’t it, Mr. Gray? I always hear Harry’s views from his friends. It is the only way I get to know of them. But you must not think I don’t like good music. I adore it, but I am afraid of it. It makes me too romantic. I have simply worshipped pianists—two at a time, sometimes, Harry tells me. I don’t know what it is about them. Perhaps it is that they are foreigners. They all are, ain’t they? Even those that are born in England become foreigners after a time, don’t they? It is so clever of them, and such a compliment to art. Makes it quite cosmopolitan, doesn’t it? You have never been to any of my parties, have you, Mr. Gray? You must come. I can’t afford orchids, but I spare no expense in foreigners. They make one’s rooms look so picturesque. But here is Harry!—Harry, I came in to look for you, to ask you something—I forget what it was—and I found Mr. Gray here. We have had such a pleasant chat about music. We have quite the same ideas. No; I think our ideas are quite different. But he has been most pleasant. I am so glad I’ve seen him.” “I am charmed, my love, quite charmed,” said Lord Henry, elevating his dark crescent-shaped eyebrows and looking at them both with an amused smile. “So sorry I am late, Dorian. I went to look after a piece of old brocade in Wardour Street, and had to bargain for hours for it. Nowadays people know the price of everything, and the value of nothing.” “I am afraid I must be going,” exclaimed Lady Henry, breaking an awkward silence with her silly sudden laugh. “I have promised to drive with the Duchess. Good-bye, Mr. Gray. Good-bye, Harry. You are dining out, I suppose? So am I. Perhaps I shall see you at Lady Thornbury’s.” “I daresay, my dear,” said Lord Henry, shutting the door behind her, as, looking like a bird of paradise that had been out all night in the rain, she flitted out of the room, leaving a faint odour of frangipanni. Then he lit a cigarette, and flung himself down on the sofa. “Never marry a woman with straw-coloured hair, Dorian,” he said, after a few puffs. “Why, Harry?” “Because they are so sentimental.” “But I like sentimental people.” “Never marry at all, Dorian. Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious; both are disappointed.” “I don’t think I am likely to marry, Henry. I am too much in love. That is one of your aphorisms. I am putting it into practice, as I do everything that you say.” “Who are you in love with?” asked Lord Henry, after a pause. “With an actress,” said Dorian Gray, blushing. Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. “That is a rather commonplace début.” “You would not say so if you saw her, Harry.” “Who is she?” “Her name is Sibyl Vane.” “Never heard of her.” “No one has. People will some day, however. She is a genius.” “My dear boy, no woman is a genius. Women are a decorative sex. They never have anything to say, but they say it charmingly. Women represent the triumph of matter over mind, just as men represent the triumph of mind over morals.” “Harry, how can you?” “My dear Dorian, it is quite true. I am analysing women at the present, so I ought to know. The subject is not so abstruse as I thought it was. I find that, ultimately, there are only two kinds of women, the plain and the coloured. The plain women are very useful. If you want to gain a reputation for respectability, you have merely to take them down to supper. The other women are very charming. They commit one mistake, however. They paint in order to try and look young. Our grandmothers painted in order to try and talk brilliantly. Rouge and esprit used to go together. That is all over now. As long as a woman can look ten years younger than her own daughter, she is perfectly satisfied. As for conversation, there are only five women in London worth talking to, and two of these can’t be admitted into decent society. However, tell me about your genius. How long have you known her?” “Ah! Harry, your views terrify me.” “Never mind that. How long have you known her?” “About three weeks.” “And where did you come across her?” “I will tell you, Harry; but you mustn’t be unsympathetic about it. After all, it never would have happened if I had not met you. You filled me with a wild desire to know everything about life. For days after I met you, something seemed to throb in my veins. As I lounged in the Park, or strolled down Piccadilly, I used to look at every one who passed me, and wonder, with a mad curiosity, what sort of lives they led. Some of them fascinated me. Others filled me with terror. There was an exquisite poison in the air. I had a passion for sensations…. Well, one evening about seven o’clock, I determined to go out in search of some adventure. I felt that this grey, monstrous London of ours, with its myriads of people, its sordid sinners, and its splendid sins, as you once phrased it, must have something in store for me. I fancied a thousand things. The mere danger gave me a sense of delight. I remembered what you had said to me on that wonderful evening when we first dined together, about the search for beauty being the real secret of life. I don’t know what I expected, but I went out and wandered eastward, soon losing my way in a labyrinth of grimy streets and black, grassless squares. About half past eight I passed by an absurd little theatre, with great flaring gas-jets and gaudy play-bills. A hideous Jew, in the most amazing waistcoat I ever beheld in my life, was standing at the entrance, smoking a vile cigar. He had greasy ringlets, and an enormous diamond blazed in the centre of a soiled shirt. ‘Have a box, my Lord?’ he said, when he saw me, and he took off his hat with an air of gorgeous servility. There was something about him, Harry, that amused me. He was such a monster. You will laugh at me, I know, but I really went in and paid a whole guinea for the stage-box. To the present day I can’t make out why I did so; and yet if I hadn’t—my dear Harry, if I hadn’t, I should have missed the greatest romance of my life. I see you are laughing. It is horrid of you!” “I am not laughing, Dorian; at least I am not laughing at you. But you should not say the greatest romance of your life. You should say the first romance of your life. You will always be loved, and you will always be in love with love. A grande passion is the privilege of people who have nothing to do. That is the one use of the idle classes of a country. Don’t be afraid. There are exquisite things in store for you. This is merely the beginning.” “Do you think my nature so shallow?” cried Dorian Gray, angrily. “No; I think your nature so deep.” “How do you mean?” “My dear boy, the people who love only once in their lives are really the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination. Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect—simply a confession of failures. Faithfulness! I must analyse it some day. The passion for property is in it. There are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that others might pick them up. But I don’t want to interrupt you. Go on with your story.” “Well, I found myself seated in a horrid little private box, with a vulgar drop-scene staring me in the face. I looked out from behind the curtain, and surveyed the house. It was a tawdry affair, all Cupids and cornucopias, like a third-rate wedding cake. The gallery and pit were fairy full, but the two rows of dingy stalls were quite empty, and there was hardly a person in what I suppose they called the dress-circle. Women went about with oranges and ginger-beer, and there was a terrible consumption of nuts going on.” “It must have been just like the palmy days of the British Drama.” “Just like, I should fancy, and very depressing. I began to wonder what on earth I should do, when I caught sight of the play-bill. What do you think the play was, Harry?” “I should think ‘The Idiot Boy, or Dumb but Innocent.’ Our fathers used to like that sort of piece, I believe. The longer I live, Dorian, the more keenly I feel that whatever was good enough for our fathers is not good enough for us. In art, as in politics, les grandpères ont toujours tort.” “This play was good enough for us, Harry. It was ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ I must admit that I was rather annoyed at the idea of seeing Shakespeare done in such a wretched hole of a place. Still, I felt interested, in a sort of way. At any rate, I determined to wait for the first act. There was a dreadful orchestra, presided over by a young Hebrew who sat at a cracked piano, that nearly drove me away, but at last the drop-scene was drawn up, and the play began. Romeo was a stout elderly gentleman, with corked eyebrows, a husky tragedy voice, and a figure like a beer-barrel. Mercutio was almost as bad. He was played by the low-comedian, who had introduced gags of his own and was on most friendly terms with the pit. They were both as grotesque as the scenery, and that looked as if it had come out of a country-booth. But Juliet! Harry, imagine a girl, hardly seventeen years of age, with a little flower-like face, a small Greek head with plaited coils of dark-brown hair, eyes that were violet wells of passion, lips that were like the petals of a rose. She was the loveliest thing I had ever seen in my life. You said to me once that pathos left you unmoved, but that beauty, mere beauty, could fill your eyes with tears. I tell you, Harry, I could hardly see this girl for the mist of tears that came across me. And her voice—I never heard such a voice. It was very low at first, with deep mellow notes, that seemed to fall singly upon one’s ear. Then it became a little louder, and sounded like a flute or a distant hautbois. In the garden scene it had all the tremulous ecstasy that one hears just before dawn when nightingales are singing. There were moments, later on, when it had the wild passion of violins. You know how a voice can stir one. Your voice and the voice of Sibyl Vane are two things that I shall never forget. When I close my eyes, I hear them, and each of them says something different. I don’t know which to follow. Why should I not love her? Harry, I do love her. She is everything to me in life. Night after night I go to see her play. One evening she is Rosalind, and the next evening she is Imogen. I have seen her die in the gloom of an Italian tomb, sucking the poison from her lover’s lips. I have watched her wandering through the forest of Arden, disguised as a pretty boy in hose and doublet and dainty cap. She has been mad, and has come into the presence of a guilty king, and given him rue to wear, and bitter herbs to taste of. She has been innocent, and the black hands of jealousy have crushed her reed-like throat. I have seen her in every age and in every costume. Ordinary women never appeal to one’s imagination. They are limited to their century. No glamour ever transfigures them. One knows their minds as easily as one knows their bonnets. One can always find them. There is no mystery in any of them. They ride in the Park in the morning, and chatter at tea-parties in the afternoon. They have their stereotyped smile, and their fashionable manner. They are quite obvious. But an actress! How different an actress is! Harry! why didn’t you tell me that the only thing worth loving is an actress?” “Because I have loved so many of them, Dorian.” “Oh, yes, horrid people with dyed hair and painted faces.” “Don’t run down dyed hair and painted faces. There is an extraordinary charm in them, sometimes,” said Lord Henry. “I wish now I had not told you about Sibyl Vane.” “You could not have helped telling me, Dorian. All through your life you will tell me everything you do.” “Yes, Harry, I believe that is true. I cannot help telling you things. You have a curious influence over me. If I ever did a crime, I would come and confess it to you. You would understand me.” “People like you—the wilful sunbeams of life— don’t commit crimes, Dorian. But I am much obliged for the compliment, all the same. And now tell me—reach me the matches, like a good boy: thanks:—what are your actual relations with Sibyl Vane?” Dorian Gray leaped to his feet, with flushed cheeks and burning eyes. “Harry! Sibyl Vane is sacred!” “It is only the sacred things that are worth touching, Dorian,” said Lord Henry, with a strange touch of pathos in his voice. “But why should you be annoyed? I suppose she will belong to you some day. When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one’s self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance. You know her, at any rate, I suppose?” “Of course I know her. On the first night I was at the theatre, the horrid old Jew came round to the box after the performance was over, and offered to take me behind the scenes and introduce me to her. I was furious with him, and told him that Juliet had been dead for hundreds of years, and that her body was lying in a marble tomb in Verona. I think, from his blank look of amazement, that he was under the impression that I had taken too much champagne, or something.” “I am not surprised.” “Then he asked me if I wrote for any of the newspapers. I told him I never even read them. He seemed terribly disappointed at that, and confided to me that all the dramatic critics were in a conspiracy against him, and that they were every one of them to be bought.” “I should not wonder if he was quite right there. But, on the other hand, judging from their appearance, most of them cannot be at all expensive.” “Well, he seemed to think they were beyond his means,” laughed Dorian. “By this time, however, the lights were being put out in the theatre, and I had to go. He wanted me to try some cigars that he strongly recommended. I declined. The next night, of course, I arrived at the place again. When he saw me he made me a low bow, and assured me that I was a munificent patron of art. He was a most offensive brute, though he had an extraordinary passion for Shakespeare. He told me once, with an air of pride, that his five bankruptcies were entirely due to ‘The Bard,’ as he insisted on calling him. He seemed to think it a distinction.” “It was a distinction, my dear Dorian—a great distinction. Most people become bankrupt through To having invested too heavily in the prose of life. have ruined one’s self over poetry is an honour. But when did you first speak to Miss Sibyl Vane?” “The third night. She had been playing Rosalind. I could not help going round. I had thrown her some flowers, and she had looked at me; at least I fancied that she had. The old Jew was persistent. He seemed determined to take me behind, so I consented. It was curious my not wanting to know her, wasn’t it?” “No; I don’t think so.” “My dear Harry, why?” “I will tell you some other time. Now I want to know about the girl.” “Sibyl? Oh, she was so shy, and so gentle. There is something of a child about her. Her eyes opened wide in exquisite wonder when I told her what I thought of her performance, and she seemed quite unconscious of her power. I think we were both rather nervous. The old Jew stood grinning at the doorway of the dusty greenroom, making elaborate speeches about us both, while we stood looking at each other like children. He would insist on calling me ‘My Lord,’ so I had to assure Sibyl that I was not anything of the kind. She said quite simply to me, ‘You look more like a prince. I must call you Prince Charming.’ ” “Upon my word, Dorian, Miss Sibyl knows how to pay compliments.” “You don’t understand her, Harry. She regarded me merely as a person in a play. She knows nothing of life. She lives with her mother, a faded tired woman who played Lady Capulet in a sort of magenta dressing-wrapper on the first night, and looks as if she had seen better days.” “I know that look. It depresses me,” murmured Lord Henry, examining his rings. “The Jew wanted to tell me her history, but I said it did not interest me.” “You were quite right. There is always something infinitely mean about other people’s tragedies.” “Sibyl is the only thing I care about. What is it to me where she came from? From her little head to her little feet, she is absolutely and entirely divine. Every night of my life I go to see her act, and every night she is more marvellous.” “That is the reason, I suppose, that you never dine with me now. I thought you must have some curious romance on hand. You have; but it is not quite what I expected.” “My dear Harry, we either lunch or sup together every day, and I have been to the Opera with you several times,” said Dorian, opening his blue eyes in wonder. “You always come dreadfully late.” “Well, I can’t help going to see Sibyl play,” he cried, “even if it is only for a single act. I get hungry for her presence; and when I think of the wonderful soul that is hidden away in that little ivory body, I am filled with awe.” “You can dine with me to-night, Dorian, can’t you” He shook his head. “To-night she is Imogen,” he answered, “and to-morrow night she will be Juliet.” “When is she Sibyl Vane?” “Never.” “I congratulate you.” “How horrid you are! She is all the great heroines of the world in one. She is more than an individual. You laugh, but I tell you she has genius. I love her, and I must make her love me. You, who know all the secrets of life, tell me how to charm Sibyl Vane to love me! I want to make Romeo jealous. I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter, and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain. My God, Harry, how I worship her!” He was walking up and down the room as he spoke. Hectic spots of red burned on his cheeks. He was terribly excited. Lord Henry watched him with a subtle sense of pleasure. How different he was now from the shy, frightened boy he had met in Basil Hallward’s studio! His nature had developed like a flower, had borne blossoms of scarlet flame. Out of its secret hiding place had crept his Soul, and Desire had come to meet it on the way. “And what do you propose to do?” said Lord Henry, at last. “I want you and Basil to come with me some night and see her act. I have not the slightest fear of the result. You are certain to acknowledge her genius. Then we must get her out of the Jew’s hands. She is bound to him for three years—at least for two years and eight months—from the present time. I shall have to pay him something, of course. When all that is settled, I shall take a West End theatre and bring her out properly. She will make the world as mad as she has made me.” “That would be impossible, my dear boy?” “Yes, she will. She has not merely art, consummate art-instinct, in her, but she has personality also; and you have often told me that it is personalities, not principles, that move the age.” “Well, what night shall we go?” “Let me see. To-day is Tuesday. Let us fix to-morrow. She plays Juliet to-morrow.” All right. The Bristol at eight o’clock; and I will get Basil.” “Not eight, Harry, please. Half-past six. We must be there before the curtain rises. You must see her in the first act, where she meets Romeo.” “Half-past six! What an hour! It will be like having a meat-tea, or reading an English novel. It must be seven. No gentleman dines before seven. Shall you see Basil between this and then? Or shall I write to him?” “Dear Basil! I have not laid eyes on him for a week. It is rather horrid of me, as he has sent me my portrait in the most wonderful frame, specially designed by himself, and, though I am a little jealous of the picture for being a whole month younger than I am, I must admit that I delight in it. Perhaps you had better write to him. I don’t want to see him alone. He says things that annoy me. He gives me good advice.” Lord Henry smiled. “People are very fond of giving away what they need most themselves. It is what I call the depth of generosity.” “Oh, Basil is the best of fellows, but he seems to me to be just a bit of a Philistine. Since I have known you, Harry, I have discovered that.” “Basil, my dear boy, puts everything that is charming in him into his work. The consequence is that he has nothing left for life but his prejudices, his principles, and his common-sense. The only artists I have ever known, who are personally delightful, are bad artists. Good artists exist simply in what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are. A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. The worse their rhymes are, the more picturesque they look. The mere fact of having published a book of second-rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible. He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.” “I wonder is that really so, Harry?” said Dorian Gray, putting some perfume on his handkerchief out of a large gold-topped bottle that stood on the table. “It must be, if you say it. And now I am off. Imogen is waiting for me. Don’t forget about tomorrow. Good-bye.” As he left the room, Lord Henry’s heavy eyelids drooped, and he began to think. Certainly few people had ever interested him so much as Dorian Gray, and yet the lad’s mad adoration of some one else caused him not the slightest pang of annoyance or jealousy. He was pleased by it. It made him a more Interesting study. He had been always enthralled by the methods of natural science, but the ordinary subject-matter of that science had seemed to him trivial and of no import. And so he had begun by vivisecting himself, as he had ended by vivisecting others. Human life—that appeared to him the one thing worth investigating. Compared to it there was nothing else of any value. It was true that as one watched life in Its curious crucible of pain and pleasure, one could not wear over one’s face a mask of glass, nor keep the sulphurous fumes from troubling the brain, and making the imagination turbid with monstrous fancies and misshapen dreams. There were poisons so subtle that to know their properties one had to sicken of them. There were maladies so strange that one had to pass through them if one sought to understand their nature. And, yet, what a great reward one received! How wonderful the whole world became to one! To note the curious hard logic of passion, and the emotional coloured life of the intellect—to observe where they met, and where they separated, at what point they were in unison, and at what point they were at discord—there was a delight in that! What matter what the cost was? One could never pay too high a price for any sensation. He was conscious—and the thought brought a gleam of pleasure into his brown agate eyes—that it was through certain words of his, musical words said with musical utterance, that Dorian Gray’s soul had turned to this white girl and bowed in worship before her. To a large extent the lad was his own creation. He had made him premature. That was something. Ordinary people waited till life disclosed to them its secrets, but to the few, to the elect, the mysteries of life were revealed before the veil was drawn away. Sometimes this was the effect of art, and chiefly of the art of literature, which dealt immediately with the passions and the intellect. But now and then a complex personality took the place and assumed the office of art; was indeed, in its way, a real work of art, Life having its elaborate masterpieces, just as poetry has, or sculpture, or painting. Yes, the lad was premature. He was gathering his harvest while it was yet spring. The pulse and passion of youth were in him, but he was becoming self-conscious. It was delightful to watch him. With his beautiful face, and his beautiful soul, he was a thing to wonder at. It was no matter how it all ended, or was destined to end. He was like one of those gracious figures in a pageant or a play, whose joys seem to be remote from one, but whose sorrows stir one’s sense of beauty, and whose wounds are like red roses. Soul and body, body and soul—how mysterious they were! There was animalism in the soul, and the body had its moments of spirituality. The senses could refine, and the intellect could degrade. Who could say where the fleshly impulse ceased, or the physical impulse began? How shallow were the arbitrary definitions of ordinary psychologists! And yet how difficult to decide between the claims of the various schools! Was the soul a shadow seated in the house of sin? Or was the body really in the soul, as Giordano Bruno thought? The separation of spirit from matter was a mystery, and the union of spirit with matter was a mystery also. He began to wonder whether we could ever make psychology so absolute a science that each little spring of life would be revealed to us. As it was, we always misunderstood ourselves, and rarely understood others. Experience was of no ethical value. It was merely the name men gave to their mistakes. Moralists had, as a rule, regarded it as a mode of warning, had claimed for it a certain ethical efficacy in the formation of character, had praised it as something that taught us what to follow and showed us what to avoid. But there was no motive power in experience. It was as little of an active cause as conscience itself. All that it really demonstrated was that our future would be the same as our past, and that the sin we had done once, and with loathing, we would do many times, and with joy. It was clear to him that the experimental method was the only method by which one could arrive at any scientific analysis of the passions, and certainly Dorian Gray was a subject made to his hand, and seemed to promise rich and fruitful results. His sudden mad love for Sibyl Vane was a psychological phenomenon of no small interest. There was no doubt that curiosity had much to do with it, curiosity and the desire for new experiences; yet it was not a simple but rather a very complex passion. What there was in it of the purely sensuous instinct of boyhood had been transformed by the workings of the imagination, changed into something that seemed to the lad himself to be remote from sense, and was for that very reason all the more dangerous. It was the passions about whose origin we deceived ourselves that tyrannised most strongly over us. Our weakest motives were those of whose nature we were conscious. It often happened that when we thought we were experimenting on others we were really experimenting on ourselves. While Lord Henry sat dreaming on these things, a knock came to the door, and his valet entered, and reminded him it was time to dress for dinner. He got up and looked out into the street. The sunset had smitten into scarlet gold the upper windows of the houses opposite. The panes glowed like plates of heated metal. The sky above was like a faded rose. He thought of his friend’s young fiery-coloured life, and wondered how it was all going to end. When he arrived home, about half-past twelve o’clock, he saw a telegram lying on the hall table. He opened it, and found it was from Dorian Gray. It was to tell him that he was engaged to be married to Sibyl Vane.

CHAPTER V
“Mother, mother, I am so happy!” whispered the girl, burying her face in the lap of the faded, tired-looking woman who, with back turned to the shrill intrusive light, was sitting in the one armchair that their dingy sitting-room contained. “I am so happy!” she repeated, “and you must be happy too.” Mrs. Vane winced, and put her thin bismuth whitened hands on her daughter’s head. “Happy!” she echoed, “I am only happy, Sibyl, when I see you act. You must not think of anything but your acting. Mr. Isaacs has been very good to us, and we owe him money.” The girl looked up and pouted. “Money, mother?” she cried, “what does money matter? Love is more than money.” “Mr. Isaacs has advanced us fifty pounds to pay off our debts, and to get a proper outfit for James. You must not forget that, Sibyl. Fifty pounds is a very large sum. Mr. Isaacs has been most considerate.” “He is not a gentleman, mother, and I hate the way he talks to me,” said the girl, rising to her feet, and going over to the window. “I don’t know how we could manage without him”, answered the elder woman, querulously. We Sibyl Vane tossed her head and laughed. “I don’t want him any more, mother. Prince Charming rules life for us now.” Then she paused. A rose shook in her blood, and shadowed her checks. Quick breath parted the petals of her lips. They trembled. Some southern wind of passion swept over her, and stirred the dainty folds of her dress. “I love him,” she said, simply. “Foolish child! foolish child!” was the parrot phrase flung in answer. The waving of crooked, false-jewelled fingers gave grotesqueness to the words. The girl laughed again. The joy of a caged bird was in her voice. Her eyes caught the melody, and echoed it in radiance; then closed for a moment, as though to hide their secret. When they opened, the mist of a dream had passed across them. Thin-lipped wisdom spoke at her from the worn chair, hinted at prudence, quoted from that book of cowardice whose author apes the name of common sense. She did not listen. She was free in her prison of passion. Her prince, Prince Charming. was with her. She had called on Memory to remake him. She had sent her soul to search for him, and it had brought him back. His kiss burned again upon her mouth. Her eyelids were warm with his breath. Then Wisdom altered its method and spoke of espial and discovery. This young man might be rich. If so, marriage should be thought of. Against the shell of her ear broke the waves of worldly cunning. The arrows of craft shot by her. She saw the thin lips moving, and smiled. Suddenly she felt the need to speak. The wordy silence troubled her. “Mother, mother,” she cried, “why does he love me so much? I know why love him. I love him because he is like what Love himself should be. But what does he see in me? I am not worthy of him. And yet—why, I cannot tell—though I feel so much beneath him, I don’t feel humble. I feel proud, terribly proud. Mother, did you love my father as I love Prince Charming?” The elder woman grew pale beneath the coarse powder that daubed her cheeks, and her dry lips twitched with a spasm of pain. Sibyl rushed to her, flung her arms round her neck, and kissed her. “Forgive me, mother. I know it pains you to talk about our father. But it only pains you because you loved him so much. Don’t look so sad. I am as happy to-day as you were twenty years ago. Ah! let me be happy for ever!” “My child, you are far too young to think of falling in love. Besides, what do you know of this young man? You don’t even know his name. The whole thing is most inconvenient, and really, when James is going away to Australia, and I have so much to think of, I must say that you should have shown more consideration. However, as I said before, if he is rich….” “Ah! Mother, mother, let me be happy!” Mrs. Vane glanced at her, and with one of those false theatrical gestures that so often become a mode of second nature to a stage-player, clasped her in her arms. At this moment the door opened, and a young lad with rough brown hair came into the room. He was thick-set of figure, and his hands and feet were large, and somewhat clumsy in movement. He was not so finely bred as his sister. One would hardly have guessed the close relationship that existed between them. Mrs. Vane fixed her eyes on him, and intensified the smile. She mentally elevated her son to the dignity of an audience. She felt sure that the tableau was interesting. “You might keep some of your kisses for me, Sibyl, I think,” said the lad, with a good-natured grumble. “Ah! but you don’t like being kissed, Jim,” she cried. “You are a dreadful old bear.” And she ran across the room and hugged him. James Vane looked into his sister’s face with tenderness “I want you to come out with me for a walk, Sibyl. I don’t suppose I shall ever see this horrid London again. I am sure I don’t want to.” “My son, don’t say such dreadful things,” murmured Mrs. Vane, taking up a tawdry theatrical dress, with a sigh, and beginning to patch it. She felt a little disappointed that he had not joined the group. It would have increased the theatrical picturesqueness of the situation. “Why not, mother? I mean it.” “You pain me, my son. I trust you will return from Australia in a position of affluence. I believe there is no society of any kind in the Colonies, nothing that I would call society; so when you have made your fortune you must come back and assert yourself in London.” “Society!” muttered the lad. “I don’t want to know anything about that. I should like to make some money to take you and Sibyl off the stage. hate it.” “Oh, Jim!” said Sibyl, laughing, “how unkind of you! But are you really going for a walk with me? That will be nice! I was afraid you were going to say goodbye to some of your friends—to Tom Hardy, who gave you that hideous pipe, or Ned Langton, who makes fun of you for smoking it. It is very sweet of you to let me have your last afternoon. Where shall we go? Let us go to the Park.” “I am too shabby” he answered, frowning. “Only swell people go to the Park.” “Nonsense, Jim,” she whispered, stroking the sleeve of his coat. He hesitated for a moment. “Very well,” he said at last, “but don’t be too long dressing.” She danced out of the door. One could hear her singing as she ran upstairs. Her little feet pattered overhead. He walked up and down the room two or three times. Then he turned to the still figure in the chair. “Mother, are my things ready?” he asked. “Quite ready, James,” she answered, keeping her eyes on her work. For some months past she had felt ill at ease when she was alone with this rough, stern son of hers. Her shallow secret nature was troubled when their eyes met. She used to wonder if he suspected anything. The silence, for he made no other observation, became intolerable to her. She began to complain. Women defend themselves by attacking, just as they attack by sudden and strange surrenders. “I hope you will be contented, James, with your sea-faring life,” she said. “You must remember that it is your own choice. You might have entered a solicitor’s office. Solicitors are a very respectable class, and in the country often dine with the best families.” “I hate offices, and I hate clerks,” he replied. “But you are quite right. I have chosen my own life. All I say is, watch over Sibyl. Don’t let her come to any harm. Mother, you must watch over her.” “James, you really talk very strangely. Of course I watch over Sibyl.” “I hear a gentleman comes every night to the theatre, and goes behind to talk to her. Is that right? What about that?” “You are speaking about things you don’t understand, James. In the profession we are accustomed to receive a great deal of most gratifying attention. I myself used to receive many bouquets at one time. That was when acting was really understood. As for Sibyl, I do not know at present whether her attachment is serious or not. But there is no doubt that the young man in question is a perfect gentleman. He is always most polite to me. Besides, he has the appearance of being rich, and the flowers he sends are lovely.” “You don’t know his name, though,” said the lad, harshly. “No,” answered his mother, with a placid expression in her face. “He has not yet revealed his real name. I think it is quite romantic of him. He is probably a member of the aristocracy.” James Vane bit his lip. “Watch over Sibyl, watch over her. mother,” he cried, “My son, you distress me very much. Sibyl is always under my special care. Of course, if this gentleman is wealthy, there is no reason why she should not contract an alliance with him. I trust he is one of the aristocracy. He has all the appearance of it, I must say. It might be a most brilliant marriage for Sibyl. They would make a charming couple. His good looks are really quite remarkable; everybody notices them.” The lad muttered something to himself, and drummed on the window-pane with his coarse fingers. He had just turned round to say something, when the door opened, and Sibyl ran in. “How serious you both are! she cried. “What is the matter?” “Nothing,” he answered. “I suppose one must be serious sometimes. Goodbye, mother; I will have my dinner at five o’clock. Everything is packed, except my shirts, so you need not trouble.” “Goodbye, my son,” she answered, with a bow of strained stateliness. She was extremely annoyed at the tone he had adopted with her, and there was something in his look that had made her feel afraid. “Kiss me, mother,” said the girl. Her flowerlike lips touched the withered cheek, and warmed its frost. “My child! my child!” cried Mrs. Vane, looking up to the ceiling in search of an imaginary gallery. “Come, Sibyl,” said her brother, impatiently. He hated his mother’s affectations. They went out into the flickering wind-blown sunlight, and strolled down the dreary Euston Road. The passers-by glanced in wonder at the sullen, heavy youth, who, in coarse, ill-fitting clothes, was in the company of such a graceful, refined-looking girl. He was like a common gardener walking with a rose. Jim frowned from time to time when he caught the inquisitive glance of some stranger. He had that dislike of being stared at which comes on geniuses late in life, and never leaves the commonplace. Sibyl, however, was quite unconscious of the effect she was producing. Her love was trembling in laughter on her lips. She was thinking of Prince Charming, and, that she might think of him all the more, she did not talk of him but prattled on about the ship in which Jim was going to sail, about the gold he was certain to find, about the wonderful heiress whose life he was to save from the wicked. red-shirted bushrangers. For he was not to remain a sailor, or a super-cargo, or whatever he was going to be. Oh, no! A sailor’s existence was dreadful. Fancy being cooped up in a horrid ship, with the hoarse, hump-backed waves trying to get in, and a black wind blowing the masts down, and tearing the sails into long screaming ribands! He was to leave the vessel at Melbourne, bid a polite goodbye to the captain, and go off at once to the gold-fields. Before a week was over he was to come across a large nugget of pure gold, the largest nugget that had ever been discovered, and bring it down to the coast in a waggon guarded by six mounted policemen. The bushrangers were to attack them three times, and be defeated with immense slaughter. Or, no. He was not to go to the gold-fields at all. They were horrid places, where men got intoxicated, and shot each other in bar-rooms, and used bad language. He was to be a nice sheep-farmer, and one evening, as he was riding home, he was to see the beautiful heiress being carried off by a robber on a black horse, and give chase, and rescue her. Of course she would fall in love with him, and he with her, and they would get married, and come home, and live in an immense house in London. Yes, there were delightful things in store for him. But he must be very good, and not lose his temper, or spend his money foolishly. She was only a year older than he was, but she knew so much more of life. He must be sure, also, to write to her by every mail, and to say his prayers each night before he went to sleep. God was very good, and would watch over him. She would pray for him, too, and in a few years he would come back quite rich and happy. The lad listened sulkily to her, and made no answer. He was heart-sick at leaving home. Yet it was not this alone that made him gloom and morose. Inexperienced though he was, he had still a strong sense of the danger of Sibyl’s position. This young dandy who was making love to her could mean her no good. He was a gentleman, and he hated him for that, hated him through some curious race-instinct for which he could not account, and which for that reason was all the more dominant within him. He was conscious also of the shallowness and vanity of his mother’s nature, and in that saw infinite peril for Sibyl and Sibyl’s happiness. Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them. His mother! He had something on his mind to ask of her, something that he had brooded on for many months of silence. A chance phrase that he had heard at the theatre, a whispered sneer that had reached his ears one night as he waited at the stage door, had set loose a train of horrible thoughts. He remembered it as if it had been the lash of a hunting crop across his face. His brows knit together into a wedge-like furrow, and with a twitch of pain he bit his under-lip. “You are not listening to a word I am saying, Jim,” cried Sibyl, “and I am making the most delightful plans for your future. Do say something.” “What do you want me to say?” “Oh! that you will be a good boy, and not forget us,” she answered, smiling at him. He shrugged his shoulders. “You are more likely to forget me, than I am to forget you, Sibyl.” She flushed. “What do you mean, Jim?” she asked. “You have a new friend, I hear. Who is he? Why have you not told me about him? He means you no good.” “Stop, Jim!” she exclaimed. “You must not say anything against him. I love him.” “Why, you don’t even know his name,” answered the lad. “Who is he? I have a right to know.” “He is called Prince Charming. Don’t you like the name? Oh! you silly boy! you should never forget it. If you only saw him, you would think him the most wonderful person in the world. Some day you will meet him: when you come back from Australia. You will like him so much. Everybody likes him, and I… love him. I wish you could come to the theatre to-night. He is going to be there, and I am to play Juliet. Oh! how I shall play it! Fancy, Jim, to be in love and play Juliet! To have him sitting there! To play for his delight I am afraid I may frighten the company, frighten or enthrall them. To be in love is to surpass one’s self. Poor dreadful Mr. Isaacs will be shouting ‘genius’ to his loafers at the bar. He has preached me as a dogma; to-night he will announce me as a revelation. I feel it. And it is all his, his only, Prince Charming, my wonderful lover, my god of graces. But I am poor beside him. Poor? What does that matter? When poverty creeps in at the door, love flies in through the window. Our proverbs want re-writing. They were made in winter, and it is summer now; spring-time for me, I think, a very dance of blossoms in blue skies.” “He is a gentleman,” said the lad, sullenly. “A Prince!” she cried, musically. “What more do you want?” “He wants to enslave you.” “I shudder at the thought of being free.” “I want you to beware of him.” “To see him is to worship him, to know him is to trust him.” “Sibyl, you are mad about him.” She laughed, and took his arm. “You dear old Jim, you talk as if you were a hundred. Some day you will be in love yourself. Then you will know what it is. Don’t look so sulky. Surely you should be glad to think that, though you are going away, you leave me happier than I have ever been before. Life has been hard for us both, terribly hard and difficult. But it will be different now. You are going to a new world, and I have found one. Here are two chairs; let us sit down and see the smart people go by.” They took their seats amidst a crowd of watchers. The tulip-beds across the road flamed like throbbing rings of fire. A white dust, tremulous cloud of orrisroot it seemed, hung in the panting air. The brightly coloured parasols danced and dipped like monstrous butterflies. She made her brother talk of himself, his hopes, his prospects. He spoke slowly and with effort. They passed words to each other as players at a game pass counters. Sibyl felt oppressed. She could not communicate her joy. A faint smile curving that sullen mouth was all the echo she could win. After some time she became silent. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of golden hair and laughing lips, and in an open carriage with two ladies Dorian Gray drove past. She started to her feet. “There he is!” she cried. “Who?” said Jim Vane. “Prince Charming,” she answered, looking after the victoria. He jumped up, and seized her roughly by the arm. “Show him to me. Which is he? Point him out. I must see him!” he exclaimed; but at that moment the Duke of Berwick’s four-in-hand came between, and when it had left the space clear, the carriage had swept out of the Park. “He is gone,” murmured Sibyl, sadly. “I wish you had seen him.” “I wish I had, for as sure as there is a God in heaven, if he ever does you any wrong I shall kill him.” She looked at him in horror. He repeated his words. They cut the air like a dagger. The people round began to gape. A lady standing close to her tittered. “Come away, Jim; come away,” she whispered. He followed her doggedly, as she passed through the crowd. He felt glad at what he had said. When they reached the Achilles Statue she turned round. There was pity in her eyes that became laughter on her lips. She shook her head at him. “You are foolish, Jim, utterly foolish; a bad-tempered boy, that is all. How can you say such horrible things? You don’t know what you are talking about. You are simply jealous and unkind. Ah! I wish you would fall in love. Love makes people good, and what you said was wicked.” “I am sixteen,” he answered, “and I know what I am about. Mother is no help to you. She doesn’t understand how to look after you. I wish now that I was not going to Australia at all. I have a great mind to chuck the whole thing up. I would, if my articles hadn’t been signed.” “Oh, don’t be so serious, Jim. You are like one of the heroes of those silly melodramas mother used to be so fond of acting in. I am not going to quarrel with you. I have seen him, and oh! to see him is perfect happiness. We won’t quarrel. I know you would never harm anyone I love, would you?” “Not as long as you love him,” I suppose, was the sullen answer. “I shall love him for ever!” she cried. “And he?” “For ever, too!” “He had better.” She shrank from him. Then she laughed and put her hand on his arm. He was merely a boy. At the Marble Arch they hailed an omnibus, which left them close to their shabby home in the Euston Road. It was after five o’clock, and Sibyl had to lie down for a couple of hours before acting. Jim insisted that she should do so. He said that he would sooner part with her when their mother was not present. She would be sure to make a scene, and he detested scenes of every kind. In Sibyl’s own room they parted. There was jealousy in the lad’s heart, and a fierce, murderous hatred of the stranger who, as it seemed to him, had come between them. Yet, when her arms were slung round his neck, and her fingers strayed through his hair, he softened, and kissed her with real affection. There were tears in his cyes as he went downstairs. His mother was waiting for him below. She grumbled at his unpunctuality, as he entered. He made no answer, but sat down to his meagre meal. The flies buzzed round the table, and crawled over the stained cloth. Through the rumble of omnibuses, and the clatter of street-cabs, he could hear the droning voice devouring each minute that was left to him. After some time, he thrust away his plate, and put his head in his hands. He felt that he had a right to know. It should have been told to him before, if it was as he suspected. Leaden with fear, his mother watched him. Words dropped mechanically from her lips. A tattered lace handkerchief twitched in her fingers. When the clock struck six, he got up, and went to the door. Then he turned back, and looked at her. Their eyes met. In hers he saw a wild appeal for mercy. It enraged him. “Mother, I have something to ask you,” he said. Her eyes wandered vaguely about the room. She made no answer. “Tell me the truth. I have a right to know. Were you married to my father?” She heaved a deep sigh. It was a sigh of relief. The terrible moment, the moment that night and day, for weeks and months, she had dreaded, had come at last, and yet she felt no terror. Indeed in some measure it was a disappointment to her. The vulgar directness of the question called for a direct answer. The situation had not been gradually led up to. It was crude. It reminded her of a bad rehearsal. “No,” she answered, wondering at the harsh simplicity of life. “My father was a scoundrel then?” cried the lad. clenching his fists. She shook her head. “I knew he was not free. We loved each other very much. If he had lived, he would have made provision for us. Don’t speak against him, my son. He was your father, and a gentleman. Indeed he was highly connected.” An oath broke from his lips. “I don’t care for myself,” he exclaimed, “but don’t let Sibyl… It is a gentleman, isn’t it, who is in love with her, or says he is? Highly connected, too, I suppose.” For a moment a hideous sense of humiliation came over the woman. Her head drooped. She wiped her eyes with shaking hands. “Sibyl has a mother,” she murmured; “I had none.” The lad was touched. He went towards her, and stooping down he kissed her. “I am sorry if I have pained you by asking about my father, he said, but I could not help it. I must go now. Goodbye. Don’t forget that you will only have one child now to look after, and believe me that if this man wrongs my sister, I will find out who he is, track him down, and kill him like a dog. I swear it.” The exaggerated folly of the threat, the passionate gesture that accompanied it, the mad melodramatic words, made life seem more vivid to her. She was familiar with the atmosphere. She breathed more freely, and for the first time for many months she really admired her son. She would have liked to have continued the scene on the same emotional scale, but he cut her short. Trunks had to be carried down, and mufflers looked for. The lodging-house drudge bustled in and out. There was the bargaining with the cabman. The moment was lost in vulgar details. It was with a renewed feeling of disappointment that she waved the tattered lace handkerchief from the window, as her son drove away. She was conscious that a great opportunity had been wasted. She consoled herself by telling Sibyl how desolate she felt her life would be, now that she had only one It child to look after. She remembered the phrase. had pleased her. Of the threat she said nothing. It was vividly and dramatically expressed. She felt that they would all laugh at it some day.

CHAPTER VI
“I suppose you have heard the news, Basil? “ said Lord Henry that evening, as Hallward was shown into a little private room at the Bristol where dinner had been laid for three. “No, Harry,” answered the artist, giving his hat and coat to the bowing waiter. “What is it? Nothing about politics, I hope? They don’t interest me. There is hardly a single person in the House of Commons worth painting; though many of them would be the better for a little white-washing.” “Dorian Gray is engaged to be married,” said Lord Henry, watching him as he spoke. Hallward started, and then frowned. “Dorian engaged to be married!” he cried. “Impossible!” “It is perfectly true.” “To whom?” “To some little actress or other.” “I can’t believe it. Dorian is far too sensible. Dorian is far too wise not to do foolish things now and then, my dear Basil.” “Marriage is hardly a thing that one can do now and then, Harry” “Except in America,” rejoined Lord Henry, languidly. “But I didn’t say he was married. I said he was engaged to be married. There is a great difference. I have a distinct remembrance of being married, but I have no recollection at all of being engaged. I am inclined to think that I never was engaged.” “But think of Dorian’s birth, and position, and wealth. It would be absurd for him to marry so much beneath him.” “If you want to make him marry this girl tell him that, Basil. He is sure to do it, then. Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.” “I hope the girl is good, Harry. I don’t want to see Dorian tied to some vile creature, who might degrade his nature and ruin his intellect.” “Oh, she is better than good—she is beautiful, murmured Lord Henry, sipping a glass of vermouth and orange-bitters. Dorian says she is beautiful; and he is not often wrong about things of that kind. Your portrait of him has quickened his appreciation of the personal appearance of other people. It has had that excellent effect, amongst others. We are to see her to-night, if that boy doesn’t forget his appointment.” “Are you serious?” “Quite serious, Basil. I should be miserable if I thought I should ever be more serious than I am at the present moment.” “But do you approve of it, Harry?” asked the painter, walking up and down the room, and biting his lip. “You can’t approve of it, possibly. It is some silly infatuation.” “I never approve, or disapprove, of anything now. It is an absurd attitude to take towards life. We are not sent into the world to air our moral prejudices. I never take any notice of what common people say, and I never interfere with what charming people do. If a personality fascinates me, whatever mode of expression that personality selects is absolutely delightful to me. Dorian Gray falls in love with a beautiful girl who acts Juliet, and proposes to marry her. Why not? If he wedded Messalina he would be none the less interesting. You know I am not a champion of marriage. The real drawback to marriage is that it makes one unselfish. And unselfish people are colourless. They lack individuality. Still, there are certain temperaments that marriage makes more complex. They retain their egotism, and add to it many other egos. They are forced to have more than one life. They become more highly organised, and to be highly organised is, I should fancy, the object of man’s existence. Besides, every experience is of value, and, whatever one may say against marriage, it is certainly an experience. I hope that Dorian Gray will make this girl his wife, passionately adore her for six months, and then suddenly become fascinated by someone else. He would be a wonderful study.” “You don’t mean a single word of all that, Harry; you know you don’t. If Dorian Gray’s life were spoiled, no one would be sorrier than yourself. You are much better than you pretend to be.” Lord Henry laughed. “The reason we all like to think so well of others is that we are all afraid for ourselves. The basis of optimism is sheer terror. We think that we are generous because we credit our neighbour with the possession of those virtues that are likely to be a benefit to us. We praise the banker that we may overdraw our account, and find good qualities in the highwayman in the hope that lie may spare our pockets. I mean everything that I have said. I have the greatest contempt for optimism. As for a spoiled life, no life is spoiled but one whose growth is arrested. If you want to mar a nature, you have merely to reform it. As for marriage, of course that would be silly, but there are other and more interesting bonds between men and women. I will certainly encourage them. They have the charm of being fashionable. But here is Dorian himself. He will tell you more than I can.” “My dear Harry, my dear Basil, you must both congratulate me!” said the lad, throwing off his evening cape with its satin-lined wings and shaking each of his friends by the hand in turn. “I have never been so happy. Of course it is sudden; all really delightful things are. And yet it seems to me to be the one thing I have been looking for all my life.” He was flushed with excitement and pleasure, and looked extraordinarily handsome. “I hope you will always be very happy, Dorian,” said Hallward, “but I don’t quite forgive you for not having let me know of your engagement. You let Harry know.” “And I don’t forgive you for being late for dinner,” broke in Lord Henry, putting his hand on the lad’s shoulder, and smiling as he spoke. “Come, let us sit down and try what the new chef here is like, and then you will tell us how it all came about.” “There is really not much to tell,” cried Dorian, as they took their seats at the small round table. “What happened was simply this. After I left you yesterday evening, Harry, I dressed, had some dinner at that little Italian restaurant in Rupert Street you introduced me to, and went down at eight o clock to the theatre. Sibyl was playing Rosalind. Of course the scenery was dreadful, and the Orlando absurd. But Sibyl! You should have seen her! When she came on in her boy’s clothes she was perfectly wonderful. She wore a moss coloured velvet jerkin with cinnamon sleeves, slim brown cross-gartered hose, a dainty little green cap with a hawk’s feather caught in a jewel, and a hooded cloak lined with dull red. She had never seemed to me more exquisite. She had all the delicate grace of that Tanagra figurine that you have in your studio, Basil. Her hair clustered round her face like dark leaves round a pale rose. As for her acting—well, you shall see her to-night. She is simply a born artist. I sat in the dingy box absolutely enthralled. I forgot that I was in London and in the nineteenth century. I was away with my love in a forest that no man had ever seen. After the performance was over I went behind, and spoke to her. As we were sitting together, suddenly there came into her eyes a look that I had never seen there before. My lips moved towards hers. We kissed each other. I can’t describe to you what I felt at that moment. It seemed to me that all my life had been narrowed to one perfect point of rose coloured joy. She trembled all over, and shook like a white narcissus. Then she flung herself on her knees and kissed my hands. I feel that I should not tell you all this, but I can’t help it. Of course our engagement is a dead secret. She has not even told her own mother. I don’t know what my guardians will say. Lord Radley is sure to be furious. I don’t care. I shall be of age in less than a year, and then I can do what I like. I have been right, Basil, haven’t I, to take my love out of poetry, and to find my wife in Shakespeare’s plays? Lips that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered their secret in my ear. I have had the arms of Rosalind around me, and kissed Juliet on the mouth.” “Yes, Dorian, I suppose you were right,” said Hallward, slowly. “Have you seen her to-day?” asked Lord Henry. Dorian Gray shook his head. “I left her in the forest of Arden, I shall find her in an orchard in Verona.” Lord Henry sipped his champagne in a meditative manner. “At what particular point did you mention the word marriage, Dorian? And what did she say in answer? Perhaps you forgot all about it.” “My dear Harry, I did not treat it as a business transaction, and I did not make any formal proposal. I told her that I loved her, and she said she was not worthy to be my wife. Not worthy! Why, the whole world is nothing to me compared with her.” “Women are wonderfully practical,” murmured Lord Henry—“much more practical than we are. In situations of that kind we often forget to say anything about marriage, and they always remind us.” Hallward laid his hand upon his arm. “Don’t, Harry. You have annoyed Dorian. He is not like other men. He would never bring misery upon anyone. His nature is too fine for that.” Lord Henry looked across the table. “Dorian is never annoyed with me,” he answered. “I asked the question for the best reason possible, for the only reason, indeed, that excuses one for asking any question—simple curiosity. I have a theory that it is always the women who propose to us, and not we who propose to the women. Except, of course, in middle-class life. But then the middle classes are not modern.” Dorian Gray laughed, and tossed his head. “You are quite incorrigible, Harry; but I don’t mind. It is impossible to be angry with you. When you see Sibyl Vane you will feel that the man who could wrong her would be a beast, a beast without a heart. I cannot understand how anyone can wish to shame the thing he loves. I love Sibyl Vane. I want to place her on a pedestal of gold, and to see the world worship the woman who is mine. What is marriage? An irrevocable vow. You mock at it for that. Ah! don’t mock. It is an irrevocable vow that I want to take. Her trust makes me faithful, her belief makes me good. When I am with her, I regret all that you have taught me. I become different from what you have known me to be. I am changed, and the mere touch of Sibyl Vane’s hand makes me forget you and all your wrong, fascinating, poisonous, delightful theories.” “And those are..?” asked Lord Henry, helping himself to some salad. “Oh, your theories about life, your theories about love, your theories about pleasure. All your theories, in fact, Harry.” “Pleasure is the only thing worth having a theory about,” he answered, in his slow, melodious voice. “But I am afraid I cannot claim my theory as my own. It belongs to Nature, not to me. Pleasure is Nature’s test, her sign of approval. When we are happy we are always good, but when we are good we are not always happy.” “Ah! but what do you mean by good?” cried Basil Hallward. “Yes,” echoed Dorian, leaning back in his chair, and looking at Lord Henry over the heavy clusters of purple-lipped irises that stood in the centre of the table, “what do you mean by good, Harry?” “To be good is to be in harmony with one’s self,” he replied, touching the thin stem of his glass with his pale, fine-pointed fingers. “Discord is to be forced to be in harmony with others. One’s own life—that is the important thing. As for the lives of one’s neighbours, if one wishes to be a prig or a Puritan, one can flaunt one’s moral views about them, but they are not one’s concern. Besides, Individualism has really the higher aim. Modern morality consists in accepting the standard of one’s age. I consider that for any man of culture to accept the standard of his age is a form of the grossest immorality.” “But, surely, if one lives merely for one’s self, Harry, one pays a terrible price for doing so?” suggested the painter. “Yes, we are overcharged for everything nowadays. I should fancy that the real tragedy of the poor is that they can afford nothing but self-denial. Beautiful sins, like beautiful things, are the privilege of the rich.” “One has to pay in other ways but money.” “What sort of ways, Basil?” “Oh! I should fancy in remorse, in suffering, in…well, in the consciousness of degradation.” Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. “My dear fellow, mediæval art is charming, but mediæval emotions are out of date. One can use them in fiction, of course. But then the only things that one can use in fiction are the things that one has ceased to use in fact. Believe me, no civilised man ever regrets a pleasure, and no uncivilised man ever knows what a pleasure is.” “I know what pleasure is,” cried Dorian Gray. “It is to adore someone.” “That is certainly better than being adored,” he answered, toying with some fruits. “Being adored is a nuisance. Women treat us just as Humanity treats its gods. They worship us, and are always bothering us to do something for them.” “I should have said that whatever they ask for they had first given to us,” murmured the lad, gravely. “They create Love in our natures. They have a right to demand it back.” “That is quite true, Dorian,” cried Hallward. “Nothing is ever quite true,” said Lord Henry. “This is,” interrupted Dorian. “You must admit, Harry, that women give to men the very gold of their lives.” “Possibly,” he sighed, “but they invariably want it back in such very small change. That is Women, as some witty Frenchman the worry. once put it, inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces, and always prevent us from carrying them out.” “Harry, you are dreadful! I don’t know why I like you so much.” “You will always like me, Dorian,” he replied. “Will you have some coffee, you fellows?—Waiter. bring coffee, and fine-champagne, and some cigarettes. No: don’t mind the cigarettes; I have some. Basil, I can’t allow you to smoke cigars. You must have a cigarette. A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want? Yes, Dorian, you will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you have never had the courage to commit.” “What nonsense you talk, Harry!” cried the lad, taking a light from a fire-breathing silver dragon that the waiter had placed on the table. “Let us go down to the theatre. When Sibyl comes on the stage you will have a new ideal of life. She will represent something to you that you have never known.” “I have known everything,” said Lord Henry, with a tired look in his eyes, “but I am always ready for a new emotion. I am afraid, however, that, for me at any rate, there is no such thing. Still, your wonderful girl may thrill me. I love acting. It is so much more real than life. Let us go. Dorian, you will come with me. I am so sorry, Basil, but there is only room for two in the brougham. You must follow us in a hansom.” They got up and put on their coats, sipping their coffee standing. The painter was silent and preoccupied. There was a gloom over him. He could not bear this marriage, and yet it seemed to him to be better than many other things that might have happened. After a few minutes, they all passed downstairs. He drove off by himself, as had been arranged, and watched the flashing lights of the little brougham in front of him. A strange sense of loss came over him. He felt that Dorian Gray would never again be to him all that he had been in the past. Life had come between them…. His eyes darkened, and the crowded, flaring streets became blurred to his eyes. When the cab drew up at the theatre, it seemed to him that he had grown years older.
CHAPTER VII
For some reason or other, the house was crowded that night, and the fat Jew manager who met them at the door was beaming from ear to ear with an oily, tremulous smile. He escorted them to their box with a sort of pompous humility, waving his fat jewelled hands, and talking at the top of his voice. Dorian Gray loathed him more than ever. He felt as if he had come to look for Miranda and had been met by Caliban. Lord Henry, upon the other hand, rather liked him. At least he declared he did, and insisted on shaking him by the hand, and assuring him that he was proud to meet a man who had discovered a real genius and gone bankrupt over a poet. Hallward amused himself with watching the faces in the pit. The heat was terribly oppressive, and the huge sunlight flamed like a monstrous dahlia with petals of yellow fire. The youths in the gallery had taken off their coats and waistcoats and hung them over the side. They talked to each other across the theatre, and shared their oranges with the tawdry girls who sat beside them. Some women were laughing in the pit. Their voices were horribly shrill and discordant. The sound of the popping of corks came from the bar. “What a place to find one’s divinity in!” said Lord Henry. “Yes!” answered Dorian Gray. “It was here I found her, and she is divine beyond all living things. When she acts you will forget everything. These common, rough people, with their coarse faces and brutal gestures, become quite different when she is on the stage. They sit silently and watch her. They weep and laugh as she wills them to do. She makes them as responsive as a violin. She spiritualises them, and one feels that they are of the same flesh and blood as one’s self.” “The same flesh and blood as one’s self! Oh, I hope not!” exclaimed Lord Henry, who was scanning the occupants of the gallery through his opera-glass. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Dorian,” said the painter. “I understand what you mean, and I believe in this girl. Anyone you love must be marvellous, and any girl that has the effect you describe must be fine and noble. To spiritualise one’s age that is something worth doing. If this girl can give a soul to those who have lived without one, if she can create the sense of beauty in people whose lives have been sordid and ugly, if she can strip them of their selfishness and lend them tears for sorrows that are not their own, she is worthy of all your adoration, worthy of the adoration of the world. This marriage is quite right. I did not think so at first, but I admit it now. The gods made Sibyl Vane for you. Without her you would have been incomplete.” “Thanks, Basil,” answered Dorian Gray, pressing his hand. “I knew that you would understand me. Harry is so cynical, he terrifies me. But here is the orchestra. It is quite dreadful, but it only lasts for about five minutes. Then the curtain rises, and you will see the girl to whom I am going to give all my life, to whom I have given everything that is good in me.” A quarter of an hour afterwards, amidst an extraordinary turmoil of applause, Sibyl Vane stepped on to the stage. Yes, she was certainly lovely to look at—one of the loveliest creatures, Lord Henry thought, that he had ever seen. There was something of the fawn in her shy grace and startled eyes. A faint blush, like the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, came to her cheeks as she glanced at the crowded, enthusiastic house. She stepped back a few paces, and her lips seemed to tremble. Basil Hallward leaped to his feet and began to applaud. Motionless, and as one in a dream, sat Dorian Gray, gazing at her. Lord Henry peered through his glasses, murmuring, “Charming! charming!” The scene was the hall of Capulet’s house, and Romeo in his pilgrim’s dress had entered with Mercutio and his other friends. The band, such as it was, struck up a few bars of music, and the dance began. Through the crowd of ungainly, shabbily-dressed actors, Sibyl Vane moved like a creature from a finer world. Her body swayed, while she danced, as a plant sways in the water. The curves of her throat were the curves of a white lily. Her hands seemed to be made of cool ivory. Yet she was curiously listless. She showed no sign of joy when her eyes rested on Romeo. The few words she had to speak Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss—with the brief dialogue that follows, were spoken in thoroughly artificial manner. The voice was exquisite, but from the point of view of tone it was absolutely false. It was wrong in colour. It took away all the life from the verse. It made the passion unreal. Dorian Gray grew pale as he watched her. He was puzzled and anxious. Neither of his friends dared to say anything to him. She seemed to them to be absolutely incompetent. They were horribly disappointed. Yet they felt that the true test of any Juliet is the balcony scene of the second act. They waited for that. If she failed there, there was nothing in her. She looked charming as she came out in the moonlight. That could not be denied. But the staginess of her acting was unbearable, and grew worse as she went on. Her gestures became absurdly artificial. She over-emphasised everything that she had to say. The beautiful passage—Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night—was declaimed with the painful precision of a schoolgirl who has been taught to recite by some second rate professor of elocution. When she leaned over the balcony and came to those wonderful lines—Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Sweet, good-night! Ere one can say, “It lightens.” This bud of love by summer’s ripening breath May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet—she spoke the words as though they conveyed no Indeed, meaning to her. It was not nervousness. so far from being nervous, she was absolutely self contained. It was simply bad art. She was a complete failure. Even the common, uneducated audience of the pit and gallery lost their interest in the play. They got restless, and began to talk loudly and to whistle. The Jew manager, who was standing at the back of the dress-circle, stamped and swore with rage. The only person unmoved was the girl herself. When the second act was over there came a storm of hisses, and Lord Henry got up from his chair and put on his coat. “She is quite beautiful, Dorian,” he said, “but she can’t act. Let us go.” “I am going to see the play through,” answered the lad, in a hard, bitter voice. “I am awfully sorry that I have made you waste an evening, Harry. I apologise to you both.” “My dear Dorian, I should think Miss Vane was ill,” interrupted Hallward. “We will come some other night. I wish she were ill,” he rejoined. “But she seems to me to be simply callous and cold. She has entirely altered. Last night she was a great artist. This evening she is merely a commonplace, mediocre actress. “Don’t talk like that about anyone you love, Dorian. Love is a more wonderful thing than Art.” “They are both simply forms of imitation,” remarked Lord Henry. “But do let us go. Dorian, you must not stay here any longer. It is not good for one’s morals to see bad acting. Besides, I don’t suppose you will want your wife to act. So what does it matter if she plays Juliet like a wooden doll? She is very lovely, and if she knows as little about life as she does about acting, she will be a delightful experience. There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating—people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing. Good heavens, my dear boy, don’t look so tragic! The secret of remaining young is never to have an emotion that is unbecoming. Come to the club with Basil and myself. We will smoke cigarettes and drink to the beauty of Sibyl Vane. She is beautiful. What more can you want?” “Go away, Harry,” cried the lad. “I want to be alone. Basil, you must go. Ah! can’t you see that my heart is breaking?” The hot tears came to his eyes. His lips trembled, and, rushing to the back of the box, he leaned up against the wall, hiding his face in his hands. “Let us go, Basil,” said Lord Henry, with a strange tenderness in his voice; and the two young men passed out together. A few moments afterwards the footlights flared up, and the curtain rose on the third act. Dorian Gray went back to his seat. He looked pale, and proud, and indifferent. The play dragged on, and seemed interminable. Half of the audience went out, The whole tramping in heavy boots, and laughing. The last act was played to almost thing was a fiasco. empty benches. The curtain went down on a titter, and some groans. As soon as it was over, Dorian Gray rushed behind the scenes into the greenroom. The girl was standing there alone, with a look of triumph on her face. Her eyes were lit with an exquisite fire. There was a radiance about her. Her parted lips were smiling over some secret of their own. When he entered, she looked at him, and an expression of infinite joy came over her. “How badly I acted to-night, Dorian!” she cried. “Horribly!” he answered, gazing at her in amazement— “horribly! It was dreadful. Are you ill? You have no idea what it was. You have no idea what I suffered.” The girl smiled. “Dorian,” she answered, lingering over his name with long-drawn music in her voice, as though it were sweeter than honey to the red petals of her mouth— “Dorian, you should have understood. But you understand now, don’t you?” “Understand what? “ he asked, angrily. “Why I was so bad to-night. Why I shall always be bad. Why I shall never act well again.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You are ill, I suppose. When you are ill you shouldn’t act. You make yourself ridiculous. My friends were bored. I was bored.” She seemed not to listen to him. She was transfigured with joy. An ecstasy of happiness dominated her. “Dorian, Dorian,” she cried, “before I knew you, acting was the one reality of my life. It was only in the theatre that I lived. I thought that it was all true. I was Rosalind one night, and Portia the other. The joy of Beatrice was my joy, and the sorrows of Cordelia were mine also. I believed in everything. The common people who acted with me seemed to me to be godlike. The painted scenes were my world. I knew nothing but shadows, and I thought them real. You came—oh, my beautiful love l—and you freed my soul from prison. You taught me what reality really is. To-night, for the first time in my life, I saw through the hollowness, the sham, the silliness of the empty pageant in which I had always played. To-night, for the first time, I became conscious that the Romeo was hideous, and old, and painted, that the moonlight in the orchard was false, that the scenery was vulgar, and that the words 1 had to speak were unreal, were not my words, were not what I wanted to say. You had brought me something higher, something of which all art is but a reflection. You had made me understand what love really is. My love! my love! Prince Charming! Prince of life! I have grown sick of shadows. You are more to me than all art can ever be. What have I to do with the puppets of a play? When I came on to-night, I could not understand how it was that everything had gone from me. I thought that I was going to be wonderful. I found that I could do nothing. Suddenly it dawned on my soul what it all meant. The knowledge was exquisite to me. I heard them hissing, and I smiled. What could they know of love such as ours? Take me away, Dorian -take me away with you, where we can be quite alone. I hate the stage. I might mimic a passion that I do not feel, but I cannot mimic one that burns me like fire. Oh, Dorian, Dorian, you understand now what it signifies? Even if I could do it, it would be profanation for me to play at being in love. You have made me see that.” He flung himself down on the sofa, and turned away his face. “You have killed my love,” he muttered. She looked at him in wonder, and laughed. He made no answer. She came across to him, and with her little fingers stroked his hair. She knelt down and pressed his hands to her lips. He drew them away, and a shudder ran through him. Then he leaped up, and went to the door. “Yes,” he cried, “you have killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. Now you don’t even stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect, because you realised the dreams of great poets and gave shape and substance to the shadows of art. You have thrown it all away. You are shallow and stupid. My God! how mad I was to love you! What a fool I have been! You are nothing to me now. I will never see you again. will never think of you. I will never mention your name. You don’t know what you were to me, once. Why, once… Oh, I can’t bear to think of it! wish I had never laid eyes upon you! You have spoiled the romance of my life. How little you can Without know of love, if you say it mars your art! your art you are nothing. I would have made you famous, splendid, magnificent. The world would have worshipped you, and you would have borne my name. What are you now? A third-rate actress with a pretty face.” The girl grew white, and trembled. She clenched her hands together, and her voice seemed to catch in her throat. “You are not serious, Dorian?” she murmured. “You are acting.” “Acting! I leave that to you. You do it so well,” he answered bitterly. She rose from her knees, and, with a piteous expression of pain in her face, came across the room to him. She put her hand upon his arm, and looked into his eyes. He thrust her back. “Don’t touch me!” he cried. A low moan broke from her, and she flung herself at his feet, and lay there like a trampled flower. “Dorian, Dorian, don’t leave me!” she whispered. “I am so sorry I didn’t act well. I was thinking of you all the time. But I will try—indeed, I will try. It came so suddenly across me, my love for you. I think I should never have known it if you had not kissed me—if we had not kissed each other. Kiss I me again, my love. Don’t go away from me. couldn’t bear it. Oh! don’t go away from me. My brother… No; never mind. He didn’t mean it. He was in jest…. But you, oh! can’t you forgive me for to-night? I will work so hard, and try to improve. Don’t be cruel to me because I love you better than anything in the world. After all. it is only once that I have not pleased you. But you are quite right, Dorian. I should have shown myself more of an artist. It was foolish of me; and vet I couldn’t help it. Oh, don’t leave me, don’t leave me.” A fit of passionate sobbing choked her. She crouched on the floor like a wounded thing, and Dorian Gray, with his beautiful eyes, looked down at her, and his chiselled lips curled in exquisite disdain. There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love. Sibyl Vane seemed to him to be absurdly melodramatic. Her tears and sobs annoyed him. “I am going,” he said at last, in his calm, clear voice. “I don’t wish to be unkind, but I can’t see you again. You have disappointed me.” She wept silently, and made no answer, but crept nearer. Her little hands stretched blindly out, and appeared to be seeking for him. He turned on his heel, and left the room. In a few moments he was out of the theatre. Where he went to he hardly knew. He remembered wandering through dimly-lit streets, past gaunt black-shadowed archways and evil-looking houses. Women with hoarse voices and harsh laughter had called after him. Drunkards had reeled by cursing, and chattering to themselves like monstrous apes. He had seen grotesque children huddled upon door steps, and heard shrieks and oaths from gloomy courts. As the dawn was just breaking he found himself close to Covent Garden. The darkness lifted, and, flushed with faint fires, the sky hollowed itself into a perfect pearl. Huge carts filled with nodding lilies rumbled slowly -down the polished empty street. The air was heavy with the perfume of the flowers, and their beauty seemed to bring him an anodyne for his pain. He followed into the market, and watched the men unloading their waggons. A white ocked carter offered him some cherries. He thanked him, and wondered why he refused to accept any money for them, and began to eat them listlessly. They had been plucked at midnight, and the coldness of the moon had entered into them. A long line of boys carrying crates of striped tulips, and of yellow and red roses, defiled in front of him, threading their way through the huge jade green piles of vegetables. Under the portico, with its grey sun-bleached pillars, loitered a troop of draggled bareheaded girls, waiting for the auction to be over. Others crowded round the swinging doors of the coffee-house in the Piazza. The heavy cart-horses slipped and stamped upon the rough stones, shaking their bells and trappings. Some of the drivers were lying asleep on a pile of sacks. Iris-necked, and pink-footed, the pigeons ran about picking up seeds. After a little while, he hailed a hansom, and drove home. For a few moments he loitered upon the doorstep, looking round at the silent Square with its blank, close-shuttered windows, and its staring blinds. The sky was pure opal now, and the roofs of the houses glistened like silver against it. From some chimney opposite a thin wreath of smoke was rising. It curled, a violet riband, through the nacre-coloured air. In the huge gilt Venetian lantern, spoil of some Doge’s barge, that hung from the ceiling of the great oak-panelled hall of entrance, lights were still burning from three flickering jets: thin blue petals of flame they seemed, rimmed with white fire. He turned them out, and, having thrown his hat and cape on the table, passed through the library towards the door of his bedroom, a large octagonal chamber on the ground floor that, in his new-born feeling for luxury, he had just had decorated for himself, and hung with some curious Renaissance tapestries that had been discovered stored in a disused attic at Selby Royal. As he was turning the handle of the door, his eye fell upon the portrait Basil Hallward had painted of him. He started back as if in surprise. Then he went on into his own room, looking somewhat puzzled. After he had taken the buttonhole out of his coat, he seemed to hesitate. Finally he came back, went over to the picture, and examined it. In the dim arrested light that struggled through the cream-coloured silk blinds, the face appeared to him to be a little changed. The expression looked different. One would have said that there was a touch of cruelty in the mouth. It was certainly strange. He turned round, and, walking to the window, drew up the blind. The bright dawn flooded the room, and swept the fantastic shadows into dusky corners, where they lay shuddering. But the strange expression that he had noticed in the face of the portrait seemed to linger there, to be more intensified even. The quivering, ardent sunlight showed him the lines of cruelty round the mouth as clearly as if he had been looking into a mirror after he had done some dreadful thing. He winced, and, taking up from the table an oval glass framed in ivory Cupids, one of Lord Henry’s many presents to him, glanced hurriedly into its polished depths. No line like that warped his red lips. What did it mean? He rubbed his eyes, and came close to the picture, and examined it again. There were no signs of any change when he looked into the actual painting, and yet there was no doubt that the whole expression had altered. It was not a mere fancy of his own. The thing was horribly apparent. He threw himself into a chair, and began to think. Suddenly there flashed across his mind what he had said in Basil Hallward’s studio the day the picture had been finished. Yes, he remembered it perfectly. He had uttered a mad wish that he himself might remain young, and the portrait grow old; that his own beauty might be untarnished, and the face on the canvas bear the burden of his passions and his sins; that the painted image might be seared with the lines of suffering and thought, and that he might keep all the delicate bloom and loveliness of his then just conscious boyhood. Surely his wish had not been fulfilled? Such things were impossible. It seemed monstrous even to think of them. And, yet, there was the picture before him, with the touch of cruelty in the mouth. Cruelty! Had he been cruel? It was the girl’s fault, not his. He had dreamed of her as a great artist, had given his love to her because he had thought her great. Then she had disappointed him. She had been shallow and unworthy. And, yet, a feeling of infinite regret came over him, as he thought of her lying at his feet sobbing like a little child. He remembered with what callousness he had watched her. Why had he been made like that? Why had such a soul been given to him? But he had suffered also. During the three terrible hours that the play had lasted, he had lived centuries of pain, æon upon æon of torture. His life was well worth hers. She had marred him for a moment, if he had wounded her for an age. Besides, women were better suited to bear sorrow than men. They lived on their emotions. They only thought of their emotions. When they took lovers, it was merely to have someone with whom they could have scenes. Lord Henry had told him that, and Lord Henry knew what women were. Why should he trouble about Sibyl Vane? She was nothing to him now. But the picture? What was he to say of that? It held the secret of his life, and told his story. It had taught him to love his own beauty. Would it teach him to loathe his own soul? Would he ever look at it again? No; it was merely an illusion wrought on the troubled senses. The horrible night that he had passed had left phantoms behind it. Suddenly there had fallen upon his brain that tiny scarlet speck that makes men mad. The picture had not changed. It was folly to think so. Yet it was watching him, with its beautiful marred face and its cruel smile. Its bright hair gleamed in the early sunlight. Its blue eyes met his own. A sense of infinite pity, not for himself, but for the painted image of himself, came over him. It had altered already, and would alter more. Its gold would wither into grey. Its red and white roses would die. For every sin that he committed, a stain would fleck and wreck its fairness. But he would not sin. The picture, changed or unchanged, would be to him the visible emblem of conscience. He would resist temptation. He would not see Lord Henry any more—would not, at any rate, listen to those subtle poisonous theories that in Basil Hallward’s garden had first stirred within him the passion for impossible things. He would go back to Sibyl Vane, make her amends, marry her, try to love her again. Yes, it was his duty to do so. She must have suffered more than he had. Poor child! He had been selfish and cruel to her. The fascination that she had exercised over him would return. They would be happy together. His life with her would be beautiful and pure. He got up from his chair, and drew a large screen right in front of the portrait, shuddering as he glanced at it. “How horrible!” he murmured to himself, and he walked across to the window and opened it. When he stepped out on to the grass, he drew a deep breath. The fresh morning air seemed to drive away all his sombre passions. He thought only of Sibyl. A faint echo of his love came back to him. He repeated her name over and over again. The birds that were singing in the dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her.
CHAPTER VIII
It was long past noon when he awoke. His valet had crept several times on tiptoe into the room to see if he was stirring, and had wondered what made his young master sleep so late. Finally his bell sounded, and Victor came softly in with a cup of tea, and a pile of letters, on a small tray of old Sevres china, and drew back the olive-satin curtains, with their shimmering blue lining, that hung in front of the three tall windows. “Monsieur has well slept this morning,” he said, smiling. “ What o’clock is it, Victor?” asked Dorian Gray, drowsily. “One hour and a quarter, Monsieur.” How late it was! He sat up, and, having sipped some tea, turned over his letters. One of them was from Lord Henry, and had been brought by hand that morning. He hesitated for a moment, and then put it aside. The others he opened listlessly. They contained the usual collection of cards, invitations to dinner, tickets for private views, programmes of charity concerts, and the like, that are showered on fashionable young men every morning during the season. There was a rather heavy bill, for a chased silver Louis-Quinze toilet-set, that he had not yet had the courage to send on to his guardians, who were extremely old-fashioned people and did not realise that we live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities; and there were several very courteously worded communications from Jermyn Street money-lenders offering to advance any sum of money at a moment’s notice and at the most reasonable rates of interest. After about ten minutes he got up, and, throwing on an elaborate dressing-gown of silk-embroidered cashmere wool, passed into the onyx-paved bathroom. The cool water refreshed him after his long sleep. He seemed to have forgotten all that he had gone through. A dim sense of having taken part in some strange tragedy came to him once or twice, but there was the unreality of a dream about it. As soon as he was dressed, he went into the library and sat down to a light French breakfast, that had been laid out for him on a small round table close to the open window. It was an exquisite day. The warm air seemed laden with spices. A bee flew in, and buzzed round the blue-dragon bowl that, filled with sulphur-yellow roses, stood before him. He felt perfectly happy. Suddenly his eye fell on the screen that he had placed in front of the portrait, and he started. “Too cold for Monsieur?” asked his valet, putting an omelette on the table. “I shut the window?” Dorian shook his head. “I am not cold,” he murmured. Was it all true? Had the portrait really changed? Or had it been simply his own imagination that had made him see a look of evil where there had been a look of joy? Surely a painted canvas could not alter? The thing was absurd. It would serve as a tale to tell Basil some day. It would make him smile. And, yet, how vivid was his recollection of the whole thing! First in the dim twilight, and then in the bright dawn, he had seen the touch of cruelty round the warped lips. He almost dreaded his valet leaving the room. He knew that when he was alone he would have to examine the portrait. He was afraid of certainty. When the coffee and cigarettes had been brought and the man turned to go, he felt a wild desire to tell him to remain. As the door was closing behind him he called him back. The man stood waiting for his orders. Dorian looked at him for a moment. “I am not at home to any one, Victor,” he said, with a sigh. The man bowed and retired. Then he rose from the table, lit a cigarette, and flung himself down on a luxuriously-cushioned couch that stood facing the screen. The screen was an old one, of gilt Spanish leather, stamped and wrought with a rather florid Louis-Quatorze pattern. He scanned it curiously, wondering if ever before it had concealed the secret of a man’s life. Should he move it aside, after all? Why not let it stay there? What was the use of knowing? If the thing was true, it was terrible. UIf it was not true, why trouble about it? But what if, by some fate or deadlier chance, eyes other than his spied behind, and saw the horrible change? What should he do if Basil Hallward came and asked to look at his own picture? Basil would be sure to do that. No; the thing had to be examined, and at once. Anything would be better than this dreadful state of doubt. He got up, and locked both doors. At least he would be alone when he looked upon the mask of his shame. Then he drew the screen aside, and saw himself face to face. It was perfectly true. The portrait had altered. As he often remembered afterwards, and always with no small wonder, he found himself at first gazing at the portrait with a feeling of almost scientific interest. That such a change should have taken place was incredible to him. And yet it was a fact. Was there some subtle affinity between the chemical atoms, that shaped themselves into form and colour on the canvas, and the soul that was within him? Could it be that what that soul thought, they realized? —that what it dreamed, they made true? Or was there some other, more terrible reason? He shuddered, and felt afraid, and, going back to the couch, lay there, gazing at the picture in sickened horror. One thing, however, he felt that it had done for him. It had made him conscious how unjust, how cruel, he had been to Sibyl Vane. It was not too late to make reparation for that. She could still be his wife. His unreal and selfish love would vield to some higher influence, would be transformed into some nobler passion, and the portrait that Basil Hallward had painted of him would be a guide to him through life, would be to him what holiness is to some, and conscience to others, and the fear of God to us all. There were opiates for remorse, drugs that could lull the moral sense to sleep. But here was a visible symbol of the degradation of sin. Here was an ever-present sign of the ruin men brought upon their souls. Three o clock struck, and four, and the half-hour rang its double chime, but Dorian Gray did not stir. He was trying to gather up the scarlet threads of life, and to weave them into a pattern; to find his way through the sanguine labyrinth of passion through which he was wandering. He did not know what to do, or what to think. Finally, he went over to the table, and wrote a passionate letter to the girl he had loved, imploring her forgiveness, and accusing himself of madness. He covered page after page with wild words of sorrow, and wilder words of pain. There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution. When Dorian had finished the letter, he felt that he had been forgiven. Suddenly there came a knock to the door, and he heard Lord Henry’s voice outside. “My dear boy, I must see you. Let me in at once. I can’t bear your shutting yourself up like this.” He made no answer at first, but remained quite still. The knocking still continued, and grew louder. still. Yes, it was better to let Lord Henry in, and to explain to him the new life he was going to lead, to quarrel with him if it became necessary to quarrel, to part if parting was inevitable. He jumped up, drew the screen hastily across the picture, and unlocked the door. “I am so sorry for it all, Dorian,” said Lord Henry, as he entered. “But you must not think too much about it.” “Do you mean about Sibyl Vane?” asked the lad. “Yes, of course,” answered Lord Henry, sinking into a chair, and slowly pulling off his yellow gloves. “It is dreadful, from one point of view, but it was not your fault. Tell me, did you go behind and see her, after the play was over?” “Yes.” “I felt sure you had. Did you make a scene with her?” “I was brutal, Harry—perfectly brutal. But it is all right now. I am not sorry for anything that has happened. It has taught me to know myself better.” “Ah, Dorian, I am so glad you take it in that way! I was afraid I would find you plunged in remorse, and tearing that nice curly hair of yours.” “I have got through all that, said Dorian, shaking his head, and smiling. “I am perfectly happy now. I know what conscience is, to begin with. It is not what you told me it was. It is the divinest thing in us. Don’t sneer at it, Harry, any more—at least not before me. I want to be good. I can’t bear the idea of my soul being hideous.” “A very charming artistic basis for ethics, Dorian I congratulate you on it. But how are you going to begin?” “By marrying Sibyl Vane.” “Marrying Sibyl Vane!” cried Lord Henry, standing up, and looking at him in perplexed amazement. “But, my dear Dorian” “Yes, Harry, I know what you are going to say. Something dreadful about marriage. Don’t say it. Don’t ever say things of that kind to me again. Two days ago I asked Sibyl to marry me. I am not going to break my word to her. She is to be my wife” “Your wife! Dorian!… Didn’t you get my letter? I wrote to you this morning, and sent the note down, by my own man.” “Your letter? Oh, yes, I remember. I have not read it yet, Harry. I was afraid there might be something in it that I wouldn’t like. You cut life to pieces with your epigrams.” “You know nothing then?” “What do you mean?” Lord Henry walked across the room, and, sitting down by Dorian Gray, took both his hands in his own, and held them tightly. “Dorian,” he said, “my letter—don’t be frightened—was to tell you that Sibyl Vane is dead.” A cry of pain broke from the lad’s lips, and he leaped to his feet, tearing his hands away from Lord Henry’s grasp. “Dead! Sibyl dead! It is not true! It is a horrible lie! How dare you say it?” “It is quite true, Dorian,” said Lord Henry, gravely. “It is in all the morning papers. I wrote down to you to ask you not to see anyone till I came. There will have to be an inquest, of course, and you must not be mixed up in it. Things like that make a man fashionable in Paris. But in London people are so prejudiced. Here, one should never make one’s début with a scandal. One should reserve that to give an interest to one’s old age. I suppose they don’t know your name at the theatre? If they don’t, it is all right. Did anyone see you going round to her room? That is an important point.” Dorian did not answer for a few moments. He was dazed with horror. Finally he stammered in stifled voice, “Harry, did you say an inquest? What did you mean by that? Did Sibyl—? Oh, Harry, I can’t bear it! But be quick. Tell me everything at once.” “I have no doubt it was not an accident, Dorian, though it must be put in that way to the public. It seems that as she was leaving the theatre with her mother, about half-past twelve or so, she said she had forgotten something upstairs. They waited some time for her, but she did not come down again. They ultimately found her lying dead on the floor of her dressing-room. She had swallowed something by mistake, some dreadful thing they use at theatres. I don’t know what it was, but it had either prussic acid or white lead in it. I should fancy it was prussic acid, as she seems to have died instantaneously.” “Harry, Harry, it is terrible!” cried the lad. “Yes; it is very tragic, of course, but you must not get yourself mixed up in it. I see by The Standard that she was seventeen. I should have thought she was almost younger than that. She looked such a child, and seemed to know so little about acting. Dorian, you mustn’t let this thing get on your nerves. You must come and dine with me, and afterwards we will look in at the Opera. It is a Patti night, and everybody will be there. You can come to my sister’s box. She has got some smart women with her.” “So I have murdered Sibyl Vane,” said Dorian Gray, half to himself— “murdered her as surely as if I had cut her little throat with a knife. Yet the roses are not less lovely for all that. The birds sing just as happily in my garden. And to-night I am to dine with you, and then go on to the Opera, and sup somewhere, I suppose, afterwards. How extraordinarily dramatic life is! If I had read all this in a book, Harry, I think I would have wept over it. Somehow, now that it has happened actually and to me, it seems far too wonderful for tears. Here is the first passionate love-letter I have ever written in my life. Strange, that my first passionate love-letter should have been addressed to a dead girl. Can they feel, I wonder, those white silent people we call the dead? Sibyl! Can she feel, or know, or listen? Oh, Harry, how I loved her once! It seems years ago to me now. She was everything to me. Then came that dreadful night—was it really only last night?—when she played so badly, and my heart almost broke. She explained it all to me. It was terribly pathetic. But I was not moved a bit. I thought her shallow. Suddenly something happened that made me afraid. I can’t tell you what it was, but it was terrible. I said I would go back to her. I felt I had done wrong. And now she is dead. My God! my God! Harry, what shall I do? You don’t know the danger I am in, and there is nothing to keep me straight. She would have done that for me. She had no right to kill herself. It was selfish of her.” “My dear Dorian,” answered Lord Henry, taking a cigarette from his case, and producing a gold-latten matchbox, “the only way a woman can ever reform a man is by boring him so completely that he loses all possible interest in life. If you had married this girl you would have been wretched. Of course you would have treated her kindly. One can always be kind to people about whom one cares nothing. But she would have soon found out that you were absolutely indifferent to her. And when a woman finds that out about her husband, she either becomes dreadfully dowdy, or wears very smart bonnets that some other woman’s husband has to pay for. I say nothing about the social mistake, which would have been abject, which, of course, I would not have allowed, but I assure you that in any case the whole thing would have been an absolute failure.” “I suppose it would,” muttered the lad, walking up and down the room, and looking horribly pale. “But I thought it was my duty. It is not my fault that this terrible tragedy has prevented my doing what was right. I remember your saying once that there is a fatality about good resolutions—that they are always made too late. Mine certainly were.” Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain charm for the weak. That is all that can be said for them. They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account.” “Harry,” cried Dorian Gray, coming over and sitting down beside him, “why is it that I cannot feel this tragedy as much as I want to? I don’t think? I am heartless. Do you?” “You have done too many foolish things during the last fortnight to be entitled to give yourself that name, Dorian,” answered Lord Henry, with his sweet, melancholy smile. The lad frowned. “I don’t like that explanation. Harry,” he rejoined, “but I am glad you don’t think I am heartless. I am nothing of the kind. I know I am not. And yet I must admit that this thing that has happened does not affect me as it should. It seems to me to be simply like a wonderful ending to a wonderful play. It has all the terrible beauty of a Greek tragedy, a tragedy in which I took a great part, but by which I have not been wounded.” “It is an interesting question,” said Lord Henry, who found an exquisite pleasure in playing on the lad’s unconscious egotism— “an extremely interesting question. I fancy that the true explanation is this. It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style. They affect us just as vulgarity affects us. They give us an impression of sheer brute force, and we revolt against that. Sometimes, however, a tragedy that possesses artistic elements of beauty crosses our lives. If these elements of beauty are real, the whole thing simply appeals to our sense of dramatic effect. Suddenly we find that we are no longer the actors, but the spectators of the play. Or rather we are both. We watch ourselves, and the mere wonder of the spectacle enthralls us. In the present case, what is it that has really happened? Someone has killed herself for love of you. I wish that I had ever had such an experience. It would have made me in love with love for the rest of my life. The people who have adored me—there have not been very many, but there have been some—have always insisted on living on, long after I had ceased to care for them, or they to care for me. They have become stout and tedious, and when I meet them they go in at once for reminiscences. That awful memory of woman! What a fearful thing it is! And what an utter intellectual stagnation it reveals! One should absorb the colour of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar.” “I must sow poppies in my garden, sighed Dorian.” “There is no necessity,” rejoined his companion. “Life has always poppies in her hands. Of course, now and then things linger. I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die. Ultimately, however, it did die. I forget what killed it. I think it was her proposing to sacrifice the whole world for me. That is always a dreadful moment. It fills one with the terror of eternity. Well—would you believe it?—a week ago, at Lady Hampshire’s, I found myself seated at dinner next the lady in question, and she insisted on going over the whole thing again, and digging up the past, and raking up the future. I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel. She dragged it out again, and assured me that I had spoiled her life. I am bound to state that she ate an enormous dinner, so I did not feel any anxiety. But what a lack of taste she showed! The one charm of the past is that it is the past. But women never know when the curtain has fallen. They always want a sixth act, and as soon as the interest of the play is entirely over they propose to continue it. If they were allowed their own way, every comedy would have a tragic ending, and every tragedy would culminate in a farce. They are charmingly artificial, but they have no sense of art. You are more fortunate than I am. I assure you, Dorian, that not one of the women I have known would have done for me what Sibyl Vane did for you. Ordinary women always console themselves. Some of them do it by going in for sentimental colours. Never trust a woman who wears mauve, whatever her age may be, or a woman over thirty-five who is fond of pink ribbons. It always means that they have a history. Others find a great consolation in suddenly discovering the good qualities of their husbands. They flaunt their conjugal felicity in one’s face, as if it were the most fascinating of sins. Religion consoles some. Its mysteries have all the charm of a flirtation, a woman once told me; and I can quite understand it. Besides, nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner. Conscience makes egotists of us all. Yes; there is really no end to the consolations that women find in modern life. Indeed, I have not mentioned the most important one.” “What is that, Harry?” said the lad, listlessly. “Oh, the obvious consolation. Taking someone else’s admirer when one lose’s one’s own. In good society that always whitewashes a woman. But really, Dorian, how different Sibyl Vane must have been from all the women one meets! There is something to me quite beautiful about her death. I am glad I am living in a century when such wonders happen. They make one believe in the reality of the things we all play with, such as romance, passion, and love.” “I was terribly cruel to her. You forget that.” “I am afraid that women appreciate cruelty, downright cruelty, more than anything else. They have wonderfully primitive instincts. We have emancipated them, but they remain slaves looking for their masters, all the same. They love being dominated. I am sure you were splendid. I have never seen you really and absolutely angry, but I can fancy how delightful you looked. And, after all, you said something to me the day before yesterday that seemed to me at the time to be merely fanciful, but that I see now was absolutely true, and it holds the key to everything.” “What was that, Harry? “ “You said to me that Sibyl Vane represented to you all the heroines of romance—that she was Desdemona one night, and Ophelia the other; that if she died as Juliet, she came to life as Imogen.” “She will never come to life again now,” muttered the lad, burying his face in his hands. “No, she will never come to life. She has played her last part. But you must think of that lonely death in the tawdry dressing-room simply as a strange lurid fragment from some Jacobean tragedy, as a wonderful scene from Webster, or Ford, or Cyril Tourneur. The girl never really lived, and so she has never really died. To you at least she was always a dream, a phantom that flitted through Shakespeare’s plays and left them lovelier for its presence, a reed through which Shakespeare’s music sounded richer and more full of joy. The moment she touched actual life, she marred it, and it marred her, and so she passed away. Mourn for Ophelia, if you like. Put ashes on your head because Cordelia was strangled. Cry out against Heaven because the daughter of Brabantio died. But don’t waste your tears over Sibyl Vane. She was less real than they are.” There was a silence. The evening darkened in the room. Noiselessly, and with silver feet, the shadows crept in from the garden. The colours faded wearily out of things. After some time Dorian Gray looked up. “You have explained me to myself, Harry,” he murmured, with something of a sigh of relief. “I felt all that you have said, but somehow I was afraid of it, and I could not express it to myself. How well you know me! But we will not talk again of what has happened. It has been a marvellous experience. That is all. I wonder if life has still in store for me anything as marvellous.” “Life has everything in store for you, Dorian. There is nothing that you, with your extraordinary good looks, will not be able to do.” “But suppose, Harry, I became haggard, and old, and wrinkled? What then?” “Ah, then,” said Lord Henry, rising to go “then, my dear Dorian, you would have to fight for your victories. As it is, they are brought to you. No, you must keep your good looks. We live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful. We cannot spare you. And now you had better dress, and drive down to the club. We are rather late, as it is.” “I think I shall join you at the Opera, Harry. What is the number I feel too tired to eat anything. of your sister’s box?” “Twenty-seven, I believe. It is on the grand tier. You will see her name on the door. But I am sorry you won’t come and dine.” “I don’t feel up to it,” said Dorian, listlessly. “But I am awfully obliged to you for all that you have said to me. You are certainly my best friend. No one has ever understood me as you have.” “We are only at the beginning of our friendship, Dorian,” answered Lord Henry, shaking him by the hand. “Good-bye. I shall see you before nine thirty, I hope. Remember, Patti is singing.” As he closed the door behind him, Dorian Gray touched the bell, and in a few minutes Victor appeared with the lamps and drew the blinds down. He waited impatiently for him to go. The man seemed to take an interminable time over everything. As soon as he had left, he rushed to the screen, and drew it back. No; there was no further change in the picture. It had received the news of Sibyl Vane’s death before he had known of it himself. It was conscious of the events of life as they occurred. The vicious cruelty that marred the fine lines of the mouth had, no doubt, appeared at the very moment that the girl had drunk the poison, whatever it was. Or was it indifferent to results? Did it merely take cognizance of what passed within the soul? He wondered, and hoped that some day he would see the change taking place before his very eyes, shuddering as he hoped it. Poor Sibyl! what a romance it had all been! She had often mimicked death on the stage. Then Death himself had touched her, and taken her with him. How had she played that dreadful last scene? Had she cursed him, as she died? No; she had died for love of him, and love would always be a sacrament to him now. She had atoned for everything, by the sacrifice she had made of her life. He would not think any more of what she had made him go through, on that horrible night at the theatre. When he thought of her, it would be as a wonderful tragic figure sent on to the world’s stage to show the supreme reality of Love. A wonderful tragic figure? Tears came to his eyes as he remembered her childlike look, and winsome fanciful ways, and shy tremulous grace. He brushed them away hastily, and looked again at the picture. He felt that the time had really come for making his choice. Or had his choice already been made? Yes, life had decided that for him—life, and his own infinite curiosity about life. Eternal youth, infinite passion, pleasures subtle and secret, wild joys and wilder sins—he was to have all these things. The portrait was to bear the burden of his shame: that was all. A feeling of pain crept over him as he thought of the desecration that was in store for the fair face on the canvas. Once, in boyish mockery of Narcissus, he had kissed, or feigned to kiss, those painted lips that now smiled so cruelly at him. Morning after morning he had sat before the portrait, wondering at its beauty, almost enamoured of it, as it seemed to him at times. Was it to alter now with every mood to which he yielded? Was it to become a monstrous and loathsome thing, to be hidden away in a locked room, to be shut out from the sunlight that had so often touched to brighter gold the waving wonder of its hair? The pity of it! the pity ofit For a moment he thought of praying that the horrible sympathy that existed between him and the picture might cease. It had changed in answer to a prayer; perhaps in answer to a prayer it might remain unchanged. And, yet, who, that knew anything about Life, would surrender the chance of remaining always young, however fantastic that chance might be, or with what fateful consequences it might be fraught? Besides, was it really under his control? Had it indeed been prayer that had produced the substitution? Might there not be some curious scientific reason for it all? If thought could exercise its influence upon a living organism, might not thought exercise an influence upon dead and inorganic things? Nay, without thought or conscious desire, might not things external to ourselves vibrate in unison with our moods and passions, atom calling to atom in secret love of strange affinity? But the reason was of no importance. He would never again tempt by a prayer any terrible power. If the picture was to alter, it was to alter. That was all. Why inquire too closely into it? For there would be a real pleasure in watching it. He would be able to follow his mind into its secret places. This portrait would be to him the most magical of mirrors. As it had revealed to him his own body, so it would reveal to him his own soul. And when winter came upon it, he would still be standing where spring trembles on the verge of summer. When the blood crept from its face, and left behind a pallid mask of chalk with leaden eyes, he would keep the glamour of boyhood. Not one blossom of his loveliness would ever fade. Not one pulse of his life would ever weaken. Like the gods of the Greeks, he would be strong, and fleet, and joyous. What did it matter what happened to the coloured image on the canvas? He would be safe. That was everything. He drew the screen back into its former place in front of the picture, smiling as he did so, and passed into his bedroom, where his valet was already waiting for him. An hour later he was at the Opera, and Lord Henry was leaning over his chair.

CHAPTER IX
As he was sitting at breakfast next morning, Basil Hallward was shown into the room. “I am so glad I have found you, Dorian,” he said, gravely. “I called last night, and they told me you were at the Opera. Of course I knew that was impossible. But I wish you had left word where you had really gone to. I passed a dreadful evening, half afraid that one tragedy might be followed by another. I think you might have telegraphed for me when you heard of it first. I read of it quite by chance in a late edition of The Globe, that I picked up at the club. I came here at once, and was miserable at not finding you. I can’t tell you how heartbroken I am about the whole thing. I know what you must suffer. But where were you? Did you go down and see the girl’s mother? For a moment I thought of following you there. They gave the address in the paper. Somewhere in the Euston Road, isn’t it? But I was afraid of intruding upon a sorrow that I could not lighten. Poor woman! What a state she must be in! And her only child, too! What did she say about it all?” “My dear Basil, how do I know?” murmured Dorian Gray, sipping some pale-yellow wine from a delicate gold-beaded bubble of Venetian glass, and looking dreadfully bored. “I was at the Opera. You should have come on there. I met Lady Gwendolen, Harry’s sister, for the first time. We were in her box. She is perfectly charming; and Patti sang divinely. Don’t talk about horrid subjects. If one doesn’t talk about a thing, it has never happened. It is simply expression, as Harry says, that gives reality to things. I may mention that she was not the woman’s only child. There is a son, a charming fellow, I believe. But he is not on the stage. He is a sailor, or something. And now, tell me about yourself and what you are painting.” “You went to the Opera?” said Hallward, speaking very slowly, and with a strained touch of pain in his voice. “You went to the Opera while Sibyl Vane was lying dead in some sordid lodging? You can talk to me of other women being charming, and of Patti singing divinely, before the girl you loved has even the quiet of a grave to sleep in? Why, man, there are horrors in store for that little white body of hers!” “Stop, Basil! I won’t hear it!” cried Dorian, leaping to his feet. “You must not tell me about things. What is done is done. What is past is past.” “You call yesterday the past?” “What has the actual lapse of time got to do with it? It is only shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion. A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure. I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.” “Dorian, this is horrible! Something has changed you completely. You look exactly the same wonderful boy who, day after day, used to come down to my studio to sit for his picture. But you were simple, natural, and affectionate then. You were the most unspoiled creature in the whole world. Now, I don’t know what has come over you. You talk as if you had no heart, no pity in you. It is all Harry’s influence. I see that.” The lad flushed up, and, going to the window, looked out for a few moments on the green, flickering, sun-lashed garden. “I owe a great deal to Harry, Basil,” he said, at last— “more than I owe to you. You only taught me to be vain.” “ Well, I am punished for that, Dorian—or shall be some day.” “I don’t know what you mean, Basil,” he exclaimed, turning round. “I don’t know what you want. What do you want?” “ I want the Dorian Gray I used to paint,” said the artist, sadly. “Basil,” said the lad, going over to him, and putting his hand on his shoulder, “you have come too late. Yesterday when I heard that Sibyl Vane had killed herself” “Killed herself! Good heavens! is there no doubt about that?” cried Hallward, looking up at him with an expression of horror. “My dear Basil! Surely you don’t think it was vulgar accident? Of course she killed herself.” The elder man buried his face in his hands. “How fearful,” he muttered, and a shudder ran through him. “No,” said Dorian Gray, “there is nothing fearful about it. It is one of the great romantic tragedies of the age. As a rule, people who act lead the most commonplace lives. They are good husbands, or faithful wives, or something tedious. You know what I mean—middle-class virtue, and all that kind of thing. How different Sibyl was! She lived her finest tragedy. She was always a heroine. The last night she played—the night you saw her—she acted badly because she had known the reality of love. When she knew its unreality, she died, as Juliet might have died. She passed again into the sphere of art. There is something of the martyr about her. Her death has all the pathetic uselessness of martyrdom, all its wasted beauty. But, as I was saying, you must not think I have not suffered. If you had come in yesterday at a particular moment about half-past five, perhaps, or a quarter to sixyou would have found me in tears. Even Harry, who was here, who brought me the news, in fact, had no idea what I was going through. I suffered immensely. Then it passed away. I cannot repeat an emotion. No one can, except sentimentalists. And you are awfully unjust, Basil. You come down here to console me. That is charming of you. You find me consoled, and you are furious. How like a sympathetic person! You remind me of a story Harry told me about a certain philanthropist who spent twenty years of his life in trying to get some grievance redressed, or some unjust law altered—I forget exactly what it was. Finally he succeeded, and nothing could exceed his disappointment. He had absolutely nothing to do, almost died of ennui, and became a confirmed misanthrope. And besides, my dear old Basil, if you really want to console me, teach me rather to forget what has happened, or to see it from the proper artistic point of view. Was it not Gautier who used to write about la consolation des arts? I remember picking up a little vellum-covered book in your studio one day and chancing on that delightful phrase. Well, I am not like that young man you told me of when we were down at Marlow together, the young man who used to say that yellow satin could console one for all the miseries of life. I love beautiful things that one can touch and handle. Old brocades, green bronzes, lacquer-work, carved ivories, exquisite surroundings, luxury, pomp, there is much to be got from all these. But the artistic temperament that they create, or at any rate reveal, is still more to me. To become the spectator of one’s own life, as Harry says, is to escape the suffering of life. I know you are surprised at my talking to you like this. You have not realised how I have developed. I was a schoolboy when you knew me. I am a man now. I have new passions, new thoughts, new ideas. I am different, but you must not like me less. I am changed, but you must always be my friend. Of course I am very fond of Harry. But I know that you are better than he is. You are not stronger—you are too much afraid of life—but you are better. And how happy we used to be together! Don’t leave me, Basil, and don’t quarrel with me. I am what I am. There is nothing more to be said.” The painter felt strangely moved. The lad was infinitely dear to him, and his personality had been the great turning-point in his art. He could not bear the idea of reproaching him any more. After all, his indifference was probably merely a mood that would pass away. There was so much in him that was good, so much in him that was noble. “Well, Dorian,” he said, at length, with a sad smile, “I won’t speak to you again about this horrible thing, after to-day. I only trust your name won’t be mentioned in connection with it. The inquest is to take place this afternoon. Have they summoned you?” Dorian shook his head and a look of annoyance passed over his face at the mention of the word “inquest.” There was something so crude and 51 vulgar about everything of the kind. “They don’t know my name,” he answered. “But surely she did?” “Only my Christian name, and that I am quite sure she never mentioned to anyone. She told me once that they were all rather curious to learn who I was, and that she invariably told them my name was Prince Charming. It was pretty of her. You must do me a drawing of Sibyl, Basil. I should like to have something more of her than the memory of a few kisses and some broken pathetic words. I will try and do something, Dorian, if it would please you. But you must come and sit to me yourself again. I can’t get on without you.” “I can never sit to you again, Basil. It is impossible!” he exclaimed, starting back. The painter stared at him. “My dear boy, what nonsense!” he cried. “Do you mean to say you don’t like what I did of you? Where is it? Why have you pulled the screen in front of it? Let me look at it. It is the best thing I have ever done. Do take the screen away, Dorian. It is simply disgraceful of your servant hiding my work like that. I felt the room looked different as I came in.” “My servant has nothing to do with it, Basil. You don’t imagine I let him arrange my room for me? He settles my flowers for me sometimes—that is all. No; I did it myself. The light was too strong on the portrait.” “Too strong! Surely not, my dear fellow? It is an admirable place for it. Let me see it.” And Hallward walked towards the corner of the room. A cry of terror broke from Dorian Gray’s lips, and he rushed between the painter and the screen. “Basil,” he said, looking very pale, “you must not look at it. I don’t wish you to.” “Not look at my own work! you are not serious. Why shouldn’t I look at it?” exclaimed Hallward, laughing. “If you try to look at it, Basil, on my word of honour I will never speak to you again as long as I live. I am quite serious. I don’t offer any explanation, and you are not to ask for any. But, remember, if you touch this screen, everything is over between us.” Hallward was thunderstruck. He looked at Dorian Gray in absolute amazement. He had never seen him like this before. The lad was actually pallid with rage. His hands were clenched, and the pupils of his eyes were like disks of blue sire. He was trembling all over. “Dorian!” “Don’t speak!” “But what is the matter? Of course I won’t look at it if you don’t want me to,” he said, rather coldly, turning on his heel, and going over towards the window. “But, really, it seems rather absurd that I shouldn’t see my own work, especially as I am going to exhibit it in Paris in the autumn. I shall probably have to give it another coat of varnish before that, so I must see it some day, and why 3 not to-day.” “To exhibit it? You want to exhibit it?” exclaimed Dorian Gray, a strange sense of terror creeping over him. Was the world going to be shown his secret? Were people to gape at the mystery, of his life? That was impossible. Something—he did not know what—had to be done at once. “Yes; I don’t suppose you will object to that. George Petit is going to collect all my best pictures for a special exhibition in the Rue de Sèze, which will open the first week in October. The portrait will only be away a month. I should think you could easily spare it for that time. In fact, you are sure to be out of town. And if you keep it always behind a screen, you can’t care much about it.” Dorian Gray passed his hand over his forehead. There were beads of perspiration there. He felt that he was on the brink of a horrible danger. “You told me a month ago that you would never exhibit it,” he cried. “Why have you changed your mind? You people who go in for being consistent have just as many moods as others have. The only difference is that your moods are rather meaningless. You can’t have forgotten that you assured me most solemnly that nothing in the world would induce you to send it to any exhibition. You told Harry exactly the same thing.” He stopped suddenly, and a gleam of light came into his eyes. He remembered that Lord Henry had said to him once, half seriously and half in jest, “If you want to have a strange quarter of an hour, get Basil to tell you why he won’t exhibit your picture. He told me why he wouldn’t, and it was a revelation to me.” Yes, perhaps Basil, too, had his secret. He would ask him and try. “Basil,” he said, coming over quite close, and looking him straight in the face, we have each of us a secret. Let me know yours and I shall tell you mine. What was your reason for refusing to exhibit my picture?” The painter shuddered in spite of himself. “Dorian. if I told you, you might like me less than you do, and you would certainly laugh at me. I could not bear your doing either of those two things. If you wish me never to look at your picture again, I am content. I have always you to look at. If you wish the best work I have ever done to be hidden from the world. I am satisfied. Your friendship is dearer to me than any fame or reputation.” “No, Basil, you must tell me,” insisted Dorian Gray. I think “I have a right to know.” His feeling of terror had passed away, and curiosity had taken its place. He was determined to find out Basil Hallward’s mystery. “Let us sit down, Dorian,” said the painter, looking troubled. “Let us sit down. And just answer me one question. Have you noticed in the picture something curious?—something that probably at first did not strike you, but that revealed itself to you suddenly?” “Basil!” cried the lad, clutching the arms of his chair with trembling hands, and gazing at him with wild, startled eyes. “I see you did. Don’t speak. Wait till you hear what I have to say. Dorian, from the moment I met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me. I was dominated, soul, brain, and power by you. You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. I worshipped you. I grew jealous of everyone to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you. When you were away from me you were still present in my art… Of course I never let you know anything about this. It would have been impossible. You would not have understood it. I hardly understood it myself. I only knew that I had seen perfection face to face, and that the world had become wonderful to my eyes -too wonderful, perhaps, for in such mad worships there is peril, the peril of losing them, no less than the peril of keeping them…. Weeks and weeks went on, and I grew more and more absorbed in you. Then came a new development. I had drawn you as Paris in dainty armour, and as Adonis with huntsman’s cloak and polished boar-spear. Crowned with heavy lotus-blossoms you had sat on the prow of Adrian’s barge, gazing across the green turbid Nile. You had leant over the still pool of some Greek woodland, and seen in the water s silent silver the marvel of your own face. And it had all been what art should be, unconscious, ideal, and remote. One day, a fatal day I sometimes think, I determined to paint a wonderful portrait of you as you actually are, not in the costume of dead ages, but in your own dress and in your own time. Whether it was the Realism of the method, or the mere wonder of your own personality, thus directly presented to me without mist or veil, I cannot tell. But I know that as I worked at it, every flake and film of colour seemed to me to reveal my secret. I grew afraid that others would know of my idolatry. I felt, Dorian, that I had told too much, that I had put too much of myself into it. Then it was that I resolved never to allow the picture to be exhibited. You were a little annoyed; but then you did not realise all that it meant to me. Harry, to whom I talked about it, laughed at me. But I did not mind that. When the picture was finished, and I sat alone with it, I felt that I was right…. Well, after a few days the thing left my studio, and as soon as I had got rid of the intolerable fascination of its presence it seemed to me that I had been foolish in imagining that I had seen anything in it, more than that you were extremely good-looking, and that I could paint. Even now I cannot help feeling that it is a mistake to think that the passion one feels in creation is ever really shown in the work one creates. Art is always more abstract than we fancy. Form and colour tell us of form and colour—that is all. It often seems to me that art conceals the artist far more completely than it ever reveals him. And so when I got this offer from Paris I determined to make your portrait the principal thing in my exhibition. It never occurred to me that you would refuse. I see now that you were right. The picture cannot be shown. You must not be angry with me, Dorian, for what I have told you. As I said to Harry, once, you are made to be worshipped.” Dorian Gray drew a long breath. The colour came back to his cheeks, and a smile played about his lips. The peril was over. He was safe for the time. Yet he could not help feeling infinite pity for the painter who had just made this strange confession to him, and wondered if he himself would ever be so dominated by the personality of a friend. Lord Henry had the charm of being very dangerous. But that was all. He was too clever and too cynical to Would there ever be someone who be really fond of. would fill him with a strange idolatry? Was that one of the things that life had in store: “It is extraordinary to me, Dorian,” said Hallward, “that you should have seen this in the portrait. Did you really see it?” “I saw something in it,” he answered, “something that seemed to me very curious.” “Well, you don’t mind my looking at the thing now?” Dorian shook his head. “ You must not ask me that, Basil. I could not possibly let you stand in front of that picture.” “You will some day, surely?” “Never.” “Well, perhaps you are right. And now good-bye, Dorian. You have been the one person in my life Whatever I have who has really influenced my art. done that is good, I owe to you. Ah! you don’t know what it cost me to tell you all that I have told you.” “My dear Basil,” said Dorian, “what have you told me? Simply that you felt that you admired me too much. That is not even a compliment.” “It was not intended as a compliment. It was a confession. Now that I have made it, something seems to have gone out of me. Perhaps one should never put one’s worship into words.” “It was a very disappointing confession.” “Why, what did you expect, Dorian? You didn’t see anything else in the picture, did you? There was nothing else to see?” “No; there was nothing else to see. Why do you ask? But you mustn’t talk about worship. It is foolish. You and I are friends, Basil, and we must always remain so.” “You have got Harry,” said the painter, sadly. “Oh, Harry” cried the lad, with a ripple of laughter. “Harry spends his days in saying what is incredible, and his evenings in doing what is improbable. Just the sort of life I would like to lead. But still I don’t think I would go to Harry if I were in trouble. I would sooner go to you, Basil.” “You will sit to me again?” “Impossible!” “You spoil my life as an artist by refusing, Dorian. No man came across two ideal things. Few come across one.” “I can’t explain it to you, Basil, but I must never sit to you again. There is something fatal about a portrait. It has a life of its own. I will come and have tea with you. That will be just as pleasant.” “Pleasanter for you, I am afraid,” murmured Hallward, regretfully. “And now good-bye. I am sorry you won’t let me look at the picture once again. But that can’t be helped. I quite understand what you feel about it.” As he left the room, Dorian Gray smiled to himself. Poor Basil! how little he knew of the true reason! And how strange it was that, instead of having been forced to reveal his own secret, he had succeeded, almost by chance, in wresting a secret from his friend! How much that strange confession explained to him! The painter’s absurd fits of jealousy, his wild devotion, his extravagant panegyrics, his curious reticences—he understood them all now, and he felt sorry. There seemed to him to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance. He sighed, and touched the bell. The portrait must be hidden away at all costs. He could not run such a risk of discovery again. It had been mad of him to have allowed the thing to remain, even for an hour, in a room to which any of his friends had access.
CHAPTER X
When his servant entered, he looked at him steadfastly, and wondered if he had thought of peering behind the screen. The man was quite impassive, and waited for his orders. Dorian lit a cigarette, and walked over to the glass and glanced into it. He could see the reflection of Victor’s face perfectly. It was like a placid mask of servility. There was nothing to be afraid of, there. Yet he thought it best to on his guard. Speaking very slowly, he told him to tell the housekeeper that he wanted to see her, and then to go to the frame-maker and ask him to send two of his men round at once. It seemed to him that as the man left the room his eyes wandered in the direction of the screen. Or was that merely his own fancy? After a few moments, in her black silk dress, with old-fashioned thread mittens on her wrinkled hands, Mrs. Leaf bustled into the library. He asked her for the key of the schoolroom. “The old schoolroom, Mr. Dorian?” she exclaimed. “Why, it is full of dust. I must get it arranged, and put straight before you go into it. It is not fit for you to see, sir. It is not, indeed.” “I don’t want it put straight, Leaf. I only want the key.” “Well, sir, you’ll be covered with cobwebs if you go into it. Why, it hasn’t been opened for nearly five years, not since his lordship died.” He winced at the mention of his grandfather. He had hateful memories of him. “That does not matter,” he answered. “I simply want to see the place—that is all. Give me the key.” “And here is the key, sir,” said the old lady, going over the contents of her bunch with tremulously uncertain hands. “Here is the key. I’ll have it off the bunch in a moment. But you don’t think of living up there, sir, and you so comfortable here?” “No, no,” he cried, petulantly. “Thank you, Leaf. That will do.” She lingered for a few moments, and was garrulous over some detail of the household. He sighed, and told her to manage things as she thought best. She left the room, wreathed in smiles. As the door closed, Dorian put the key in his pocket, and looked round the room. His eye fell on a large, purple satin coverlet heavily embroidered with gold, a splendid piece of late seventeenth-century Venetian work that his grandfather had found in a convent near Bologna. Yes, that would serve to wrap the dreadful thing in. It had perhaps served often as a pall for the dead. Now it was to hide something that had a corruption of its own, worse than the corruption of death itself—something that would breed horrors and yet would never die. What the worm was to the corpse, his sins would be to the painted image on the canvas. They would mar its beauty, and eat away its grace. They would defile it, and make it shameful. And yet the thing would still live on. It would be always alive. He shuddered, and for a moment he regretted that he had not told Basil the true reason why he had wished to hide the picture away. Basil would have helped him to resist Lord Henry’s influence, and the still more poisonous influences that came from his own temperament. The love that he bore him—for it was really love—had nothing in it that was not noble and intellectual. It was not that mere physical admiration of beauty that is born of the senses, and that dies when the senses tire. It was such love as Michael Angelo had known, and Montaigne, and Winckelmann, and Shakespeare himself. Yes, Basil could have saved him. But it was too late now. The past could always be annihilated. Regret, denial, or forgetfulness could do that. But the future was inevitable. There were passions in him that would find their terrible outlet, dreams that would make the shadow of their evil real. He took up from the couch the great purple-and-gold texture that covered it, and, holding it in his hands, passed behind the screen. Was the face on the canvas viler than before? It seemed to him that it was unchanged; and yet his loathing of it was intensified. Gold hair, blue eyes, and rose-red lips—they all were there. It was simply the expression that had altered. That was horrible in its cruelty. Compared to what he saw in it of censure or rebuke, how shallow Basil’s reproaches about Sibyl Vane had been!—how shallow, and of what little account! His own soul was looking out at him from the canvas and calling him to judgment. A look of pain came across him, and he flung the rich pall over the picture. As he did so, a knock came to the door. He passed out as his servant entered. “The persons are here, Monsieur.” He felt that the man must be got rid of at once. He must not be allowed to know where the picture was being taken to. There was something sly about him, and he had thoughtful, treacherous eyes. Sitting down at the writing-table, he scribbled a note to Lord Henry, asking him to send him round something to read, and reminding him that they were to meet at eight-fifteen that evening “Wait for an answer,” he said, handing it to him, “and show the men in here.” In two or three minutes there was another knock, and Mr. Hubbard himself, the celebrated frame-maker of South Audley Street, came in with a somewhat rough-looking young assistant. Mr. Hubbard was a florid, red-whiskered little man, whose admiration for art was considerably tempered by the inveterate impecuniosity of most of the artists who dealt with him. As a rule, he never left his shop. He waited for people to come to him. But he always made an exception in favour of Dorian Gray. There was something about Dorian that charmed everybody. It was a pleasure even to see him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Gray?” he said, rubbing his fat freckled hands. “I thought I would do myself the honour of coming round in person. I have just got a beauty of a frame, sir. Picked it up at a sale. Old Florentine. Came from Fonthill, I believe. Admirably suited for a religious subject, Mr. Gray.” “I am so sorry you have given yourself the trouble of coming round, Mr. Hubbard. I shall certainly drop in and look at the frame—though I don’t go in much at present for religious art—but to-day I only want a picture carried to the top of the house for me. It is rather heavy, so I thought I would ask you to lend me a couple of your men.” “No trouble at all, Mr. Gray. I am delighted to be of any service to you. Which is the work of art, sir?” “This,” replied Dorian, moving the screen back. “Can you move it, covering and all, just as it is? I don’t want it to get scratched going upstairs.” “There will be no difficulty, sir,” said the genial frame-maker, beginning, with the aid of his assistant, to unhook the picture from the long brass chains by which it was suspended. “And, now, where shall we carry it to, Mr. Gray?” “I will show you the way, Mr. Hubbard, if you will kindly follow me. Or perhaps you had better go in front. I am afraid it is right at the top of the house. We will go up by the front staircase, as it is wider.” He held the door open for them, and they passed out into the hall and began the ascent. The elaborate character of the frame had made the picture extremely bulky, and now and then, in spite of the obsequious protests of Mr. Hubbard, who had the true tradesman’s spirited dislike of seeing a gentleman doing anything useful, Dorian put his hand to it so as to help them. “Something of a load to carry, sir,” gasped the little man, when they reached the top landing. And he wiped his shiny forehead. “I am afraid it is rather heavy,” murmured Dorian, as he unlocked the door that opened into the room that was to keep for him the curious secret of his life and hide his soul from the eyes of men. He had not entered the place for more than four years—not, indeed, since he had used it first as a play-room when he was a child, and then as a study when he grew somewhat older. It was a large, well proportioned room, which had been specially built by the last Lord Kelso for the use of the little grandson whom, for his strange likeness to his mother, and also for other reasons, he had always hated and desired to keep at a distance. It appeared to Dorian to have but little changed. There was the huge Italian cassone, with its fantastically-painted panels and its tarnished gilt mouldings, in which he had so often hidden himself as a boy. There the satinwood bookcase filled with his dog-eared schoolbooks. On the wall behind it was hanging the same ragged Flemish tapestry, where a faded king and queen were playing chess in a garden, while a company of hawkers rode by, carrying hooded birds on their gauntleted wrists. How well he remembered it all! Every moment of his lonely childhood came back to him as he looked round. He recalled the stainless purity of his boyish life, and it seemed horrible to him that it was here the fatal portrait was to be hidden away. How little he had thought, in those dead days, of all that was in store for him! But there was no other place in the house so secure from prying eyes as this. He had the key, and no one else could enter it. Beneath its purple pall, the face painted on the canvas could grow bestial, sodden, and unclean. What did it matter? No one could see it. He himself would not see it. Why should he watch the hideous corruption of his soul? He kept his youth—that was enough. And, besides, might not his nature grow finer, after all? There was no reason that the future should be so full of shame. Some love might come across his life, and purify him, and shield him from those sins that seemed to be already stirring in spirit and in flesh—those curious unpictured sins whose very mystery lent them their subtlety and their charm. Perhaps, some day, the cruel look would have passed away from the scarlet sensitive mouth, and he might show to the world Basil Hallward’s masterpiece. No; that was impossible. Hour by hour, and week by week, the thing upon the canvas was growing old. It might escape the hideousness of sin, but the hideous ness of age was in store for it. The checks would become hollow or flaccid. Yellow crow’s-feet would creep round the fading eyes and make them horrible. The hair would lose its brightness, the mouth would gape or droop, would be foolish or gross, as the mouths of old men are. There would be the wrinkled throat, the cold, blue-veined hands, the twisted body, that he remembered in the grandfather who had been so stern to him in his boyhood. The picture had to be concealed. There was no help for it. “Bring it in, Mr. Hubbard, please,” he said, wearily, turning round. “I am sorry I kept you so long. I was thinking of something else.” “Always glad to have a rest, Mr. Gray,” answered the frame-maker, who was still gasping for breath. “Where shall we put it, sir.?” “Oh, anywhere. Here: this will do. I don’t want to have it hung up. Just lean it against the wall. Thanks.” “Might one look at the work of art, sir?” Dorian started. “It would not interest you, Mr. Hubbard,” he said, keeping his eye on the man. He felt ready to leap upon him and fling him to the ground if he dared to lift the gorgeous hanging that concealed the secret of his life. “I shan’t trouble you any more now. I am much obliged for your kindness in coming round.” “Not at all, not at all, Mr. Gray. Ever ready to do anything for you, sir.” And Mr. Hubbard tramped downstairs, followed by the assistant, who glanced back at Dorian with a look of shy wonder in his rough, uncomely face. He had never seen anyone so marvellous. When the sound of their footsteps had died away, Dorian locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. He felt safe now. No one would ever look upon the horrible thing. No eye but his would ever see his shame. On reaching the library he found that it was just after five o’clock, and that the tea had been already brought up. On a little table of dark perfumed wood thickly encrusted with nacre, a present from Lady Radley, his guardian’s wife, a pretty professional invalid, who had spent the preceding winter in Cairo, was lying a note from Lord Henry, and beside it was a book bound in yellow paper, the cover slightly torn and the edges soiled. A copy of the third edition of The St. James’s Gazette had been placed on the tea tray. It was evident that Victor had returned. He wondered if he had met the men in the hall as they were leaving the house, and had wormed out of them what they had been doing. He would be sure to miss the picture—had no doubt missed it already, while he had been laying the tea-things. The screen had not been set back, and a blank space was visible on the wall. Perhaps some night he might find him creeping upstairs and trying to force the door of the room. It was a horrible thing to have a spy in one’s house. He had heard of rich men who had been blackmailed all their lives by some servant who had read a letter, or overheard a conversation, or picked up a card with an address, or found beneath a pillow a withered slower or a shred of crumpled lace. He sighed, and, having poured himself out some tea, opened Lord Henry’s note. It was simply to say that he sent him round the evening paper, and a book that might interest him, and that he would be at the club at eight-fifteen. He opened The St. James’s languidly, and looked through it. A red pencil-mark on the fifth page caught his eye. It drew attention to the following paragraph:—
“INQUEST ON AN ACTRESS.—An inquest was held this morning at the Bell Tavern, Hoxton Road, by Mr. Danby, the District Coroner, on the body of Sibyl Vane, a young actress recently engaged at the Royal Theatre, Holborn. A verdict of death by misadventure was returned. Considerable sympathy was expressed for the mother of the deceased, who was greatly affected during the giving of her own evidence, and that of Dr. Birrell, who had made the post-mortem examination of the deceased.” He frowned, and, tearing the paper in two, went across the room and flung the pieces away. How ugly it all was! And how horribly real ugliness made things! He felt a little annoyed with Lord Henry for having sent him the report. And it was certainly stupid of him to have marked it with red pencil. Victor might have read it. The man knew more than enough English for that. Perhaps he had read it, and had begun to suspect something. And, yet, what did it matter? What had Dorian Gray to do with Sibyl Vane’s death? There was nothing to fear. Dorian Gray had not killed her. His eye fell on the yellow book that Lord Henry What was it, he wondered. He had sent him. went towards the little pearl-coloured octagonal stand, that had always looked to him like the work of some strange Egyptian bees that wrought in silver, and taking up the volume, flung himself into an armchair, and began to turn over the leaves. After a few minutes he became absorbed. It was the strangest book that he had ever read. It seemed to him that in exquisite raiment, and to the delicate sound of flutes, the sins of the world were passing in dumb show before him. Things that he had dimly dreamed of were suddenly made real to him. Things of which he had never dreamed were gradually revealed. It was a novel without a plot, and with only one character, being, indeed, simply a psychological study of a certain young Parisian, who spent his life trying to realise in the nineteenth century all the passions and modes of thought that belonged to every century except his own, and to sum up, as it were, in himself the various moods through which the world-spirit had ever passed, loving for their mere artificiality those renunciations that men have unwisely called virtue, as much as those natural rebellions that wise men still call sin. The style in which it was written was that curious jewelled style, vivid and obscure at once, full of argot and of archaisms, of technical expressions and of elaborate paraphrases, that characterises the work of some of the finest artists of the French school of Symbolistes. There were in it metaphors as monstrous as orchids, and as subtle in colour. The life of the senses was described in the terms of mystical philosophy. One hardly knew at times whether one was reading the spiritual ecstasies of some mediæval saint or the morbid confessions of a modern sinner. It was a poisonous book. The heavy odour of incense seemed to cling about its pages and to trouble the brain. The mere cadence of the sentences, the subtle monotony of their music, so full as it was of complex refrains and movements elaborately repeated, produced in the mind of the lad, as he passed from chapter to chapter, a form of reverie, a malady of dreaming, that made him unconscious of the falling day and creeping shadows. Cloudless, and pierced by one solitary star, a copper-green sky gleamed through the windows. He read on by its wan light till he could read no more. Then, after his valet had reminded him several times of the lateness of the hour, he got up, and, going into the next room, placed the book on the little Florentine table that always stood at his bedside, and began to dress for dinner. It was almost nine o’clock before he reached the club, where he found Lord Henry sitting alone, in the morning-room, looking very much bored. “I am so sorry, Harry,” he cried, “but really it is entirely your fault. That book you sent me so fascinated me that I forgot how the time was going.” “Yes: I thought you would like it,” replied his host, rising from his chair. “I didn’t say I liked it, Harry. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference.” “Ah, you have discovered that?” murmured Lord Henry. And they passed into the dining-room.
CHAPTER XI
For years, Dorian Gray could not free himself from the influence of this book. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he never sought to free himself from it. He procured from Paris no less than nine large-paper copies of the first edition, and had them bound in different colours, so that they might suit his various moods and the changing fancies of a nature over which he seemed, at times, to have almost entirely lost control. The hero, the wonderful young Parisian, in whom the romantic and the scientific temperaments were so strangely blended, became to him a kind of prefiguring type of himself. And, indeed, the whole book seemed to him to contain the story of his own life, written before he had lived it. In one point he was more fortunate than the novel’s fantastic hero. He never knew—never, indeed, had any cause to know—that somewhat grotesque dread of mirrors, and polished metal surfaces, and still water, which came upon the young Parisian so early in his life, and was occasioned by the sudden decay of a beauty that had once, apparently, been so remarkable. It was with an almost cruel joy—and perhaps in nearly every joy, as certainly in every pleasure, cruelty has its place—that he used to read the latter part of the book, with its really tragic, if somewhat over-emphasised, account of the sorrow and despair of one who had himself lost what in others, and in the world, he had most dearly valued. For the wonderful beauty that had so fascinated Basil Hallward, and many others besides him, seemed never to leave him. Even those who had heard the most evil things against him, and from time to time strange rumours about his mode of life crept through London and became the chatter of the clubs, could not believe anything to his dishonour when they saw him. He had always the look of one who had kept himself unspotted from the world. Men who talked grossly became silent when Dorian Gray entered the room. There was something in the purity of his face that rebuked them. His mere presence seemed to recall to them the memory of the innocence that they had tarnished. They wondered how one so charming and graceful as he was could have escaped the stain of an age that was at once sordid and sensual. Often, on returning home from one of those mysterious and prolonged absences that gave rise to such strange conjecture among those who were his friends, or thought that they were so, he himself would creep upstairs to the locked room, open the door with the key that never left him now, and stand, with a mirror, in front of the portrait that Basil Hallward had painted of him, looking now at the evil and ageing face on the canvas, and now at the fair young face that The laughed back at him from the polished glass. very sharpness of the contrast used to quicken his sense of pleasure. He grew more and more enamoured of his own beauty, more and more interested in the corruption of his own soul. He would examine with minute care, and sometimes with a monstrous and terrible delight, the hideous lines that seared the wrinkling forehead, or crawled around the heavy sensual mouth, wondering sometimes which were the more horrible, the signs of sin or the signs of age. He would place his white hands beside the coarse bloated hands of the picture, and smile. He mocked the misshapen body and the failing limbs. There were moments, indeed, at night, when, lying sleepless in his own delicately-scented chamber, or in the sordid room of the little ill-famed tavern near the Docks, which, under an assumed name, and in disguise, it was his habit to frequent, he would think of the ruin he had brought upon his soul, with a pity that was all the more poignant because it was purely selfish. But moments such as these were rare. That curiosity about life which Lord Henry had first stirred in him, as they sat together in the garden of their friend, seemed to increase with gratification. The more he knew, the more he desired to know. He had mad hungers that grew more ravenous as he fed them. Yet he was not really reckless, at any rate in his relations to society. Once or twice every month during the winter, and on each Wednesday evening while the season lasted, he would throw open to the world his beautiful house and have the most celebrated musicians of the day to charm his guests with the wonders of their art. His little dinners, in the settling of which Lord Henry always assisted him, were noted as much for the careful selection and placing of those invited, as for the exquisite taste shown in the decoration of the table, with its subtle symphonic arrangements of exotic flowers, and embroidered cloths, and antique plate of gold and silver. Indeed, there were many, especially among the very young men, who saw, or fancied that they saw, in Dorian Gray the true realisation of a type of which they had often dreamed in Eton or Oxford days, a type that was to combine something of the real culture of the scholar with all the grace and distinction and perfect manner of a citizen of the world. To them he seemed to be of the company of those whom Dante describes as having sought to “make themselves perfect by the worship of beauty. Like Gautier, he was one for whom the visible world existed.” And, certainly, to him Life itself was the first, the greatest, of the arts, and for it all the other arts seemed to be but a preparation. Fashion, by which what is really fantastic becomes for a moment universal, and Dandyism, which, in its own way, is an attempt to assert the absolute modernity of beauty, had, of course, their fascination for him. His mode of dressing, and the particular styles that from time to time he affected, had their marked influence on the young exquisites of the Mayfair balls and Pall Mall club windows, who copied him in everything that he did, and tried to reproduce the accidental charm of his graceful, though to him only half-serious, fopperies. For, while he was but too ready to accept the position that was almost immediately offered to him on his coming of age, and found, indeed, a subtle pleasure in the thought that he might really become to the London of his own day what to imperial Neronian Rome the author of the “Satyricon” once had been, yet in his inmost heart he desired to be something more than a mere arbiter elegantiarum, to be consulted on the wearing of a jewel, or the knotting of a necktie, or the conduct of a cane. He sought to elaborate some new scheme of life that would have its reasoned philosopy and its ordered principles, and find in the spiritualising of the senses its highest realisation. The worship of the senses has often, and with much justice, been decried, men feeling a natural instinct of terror about passions and sensations that seem stronger than themselves, and that they are conscious of sharing with the less highly organised forms of existence. But it appeared to Dorian Gray that the true nature of the senses had never been understood, and that they had remained savage and animal merely because the world had sought to starve them into submission or to kill them by pain, instead of aiming at making them elements of a new spirituality, of which a fine instinct for beauty was to be the dominant characteristic. As he looked back upon man moving through History, he was haunted by a feeling of loss. So much had been surrendered! and to such little purpose! There had been mad wilful rejections, monstrous forms of self-torture and self-denial, whose origin was fear, and whose result was a degradation infinitely more terrible than that fancied degradation from which, in their Ignorance, they had sought to escape, Nature, in her wonderful irony, driving out the anchorite to feed with the wild animals of the desert and giving to the hermit the beasts of the field as his companions. Yes: there was to be, as Lord Henry had prophesied, a new Hedonism that was to recreate life, and to save it from that harsh, uncomely puritanism that is having, in our own day, its curious revival. It was to have its service of the intellect, certainly; yet, it was never to accept any theory or system that would involve the sacrifice of any mode of passionate experience. Its aim, indeed, was to be experience itself, and not the fruits of experience, sweet or bitter as they might be. Of the asceticism that deadens the senses, as of the vulgar profligacy that dulls them, it was to know nothing. But it was to teach man to concentrate himself upon the moments of a life that is itself but a moment. There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, either after one of those dreamless nights that make us almost enamoured of death, or one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, when through the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks in all grotesques, and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality, this art being, one might fancy, especially the art of those whose minds have been troubled with the malady of reverie. Gradually white fingers creep through the curtains, and they appear to tremble. In black fantastic shapes, dumb shadows crawl into the corners of the room, and crouch there. Outside, there is the stirring of birds among the leaves, or the sound of men going forth to their work, or the sigh and sob of the wind coming down from the hills, and wandering round the silent house, as though it feared to wake the sleepers, and yet must needs call forth sleep from her purple cave. Veil after veil of thin dusky gauze is lifted, and by degrees the forms and colours of things are restored to them, and we watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern. The wan mirrors get back their mimic life. The flameless tapers stand where we had left them, and beside them lies the half-cut book that we had been studying, or the wired flower that we had worn at the ball, or the letter that we had been afraid to read, or that we had read too often. Nothing seems to us changed. Out of the unreal shadows of the night comes back the real life that we had known. We have to resume it where we had left off, and there steals over us a terrible sense of the necessity for the continuance of energy in the same wearisome round of stereotyped habits, or a wild longing, it may be, that our eyelids might open some morning upon a world that had been refashioned anew in the darkness for our pleasure, a world in which things would have fresh shapes and colours, and be changed, or have other secrets, a world in which the past would have little or no place, or survive, at any rate, in no conscious form of obligation or regret, the remembrance even of joy having its bitterness, and the memories of pleasure their pain. It was the creation of such worlds as these that seemed to Dorian Gray to be the true object, or amongst the true objects, of life; and in his search for sensations that would be at once new and delightful, and possess that element of strangeness that is so essential to romance, he would often adopt certain modes of thought that he knew to be really alien to his nature, abandon himself to their subtle influences, and then, having, as it were, caught their colour and satisfied his intellectual curiosity, leave them with that curious indifference that is not imcompatible with a real ardour of temperament, and that indeed, according to certain modern psychologists, is often a condition of it. It was rumoured of him once that he was about to join the Roman Catholic communion; and certainly the Roman ritual had always a great attraction for him. The daily sacrifice, more awful really than all the sacrifices of the antique world, stirred him as much by its superb rejection of the evidence of the senses as by the primitive simplicity of its elements and the eternal pathos of the human tragedy that it sought to symbolise. He loved to kneel down on the cold marble pavement, and watch the priest, in his stiff flowered vestment, slowly and with white hands moving aside the veil of the tabernacle, or raising aloft the jewelled lantern-shaped monstrance with that pallid wafer that at times, one would fain think, is indeed the “panis cælestis,” the bread of angels, or, robed in the garments of the Passion of Christ, breaking the Host into the chalice, and smiting his breast for his sins. The fuming censers, that the grave boys, in their lace and scarlet, tossed into the air like great gilt flowers, had their subtle fascination for him. As he passed out, he used to look with wonder at the black confessionals, and long to sit in the dim shadow of one of them and listen to men and women whispering through the worn grating the true story of their lives. But he never fell into the error of arresting his intellectual development by any formal acceptance of creed or system, or of mistaking, for a house in which to live, an inn that is but suitable for the sojourn of a night, or for a few hours of a night in which there are no stars and the moon is in travail. Mysticism, with its marvellous power of making common things strange to us, and the subtle antinomianism that always seems to accompany it, moved him for a season; and for a season he inclined to the materialistic doctrines of the Darwinismus movement in Germany, and found a curious pleasure in tracing the thoughts and passions of men to some pearly cell in the brain, or some white nerve in the body, delighting in the conception of the absolute dependence of the spirit on certain physical conditions, morbid or healthy, normal or diseased. Yet, as has been said of him before, no theory of life seemed to him to be of any importance compared with life itself. He felt keenly conscious of how barren all intellectual speculation is when separated from action and experiment. He knew that the senses, no less than the soul, have their spiritual mysteries to reveal. And so he would now study perfumes, and the secrets of their manufacture, distilling heavily-scented oils, and burning odorous gums from the East. He saw that there was no mood of the mind that had not its counterpart in the sensuous life, and set himself to discover their true relations, wondering what there was in frankincense that made one mystical, and in ambergris that stirred one’s passions, and in violets that woke the memory of dead romances, and in musk that troubled the brain, and in champak that stained the imagination; and seeking often to elaborate a real psychology of perfumes, and to estimate the several influences of sweet-smelling roots, and scented pollen-laden flowers, or aromatic balms, and of dark and fragrant woods, of spikenard that sickens, of hovenia that makes men mad, and of aloes that are said to be able to expel melancholy from the soul. At another time he devoted himself entirely to music, and in a long latticed room, with a vermilion-and-gold ceiling and walls of olive-green lacquer, he used to give curious concerts, in which mad gypsies tore wild music from little zithers, or grave yellow-shawled Tunisians plucked at the strained strings of monstrous lutes, while grinning negroes beat monotonously upon copper drums, and, crouching upon scarlet mats, slim turbaned Indians blew through long pipes of reed or brass, and charmed, or feigned to charm, great hooded snakes and horrible horned adders. The harsh intervals and shrill discords of barbaric music stirred him at times when Schubert’s grace, and Chopin’s beautiful sorrows, and the mighty harmonies of Beethoven himself, fell unheeded on his ear. He collected together from all parts of the world the strangest instruments that could be found, either in the tombs of dead nations or among the few savage tribes that have survived contact with Western civilisations, and loved to touch and try them. He had the mysterious juruparis of the Rio Negro Indians, that women are not allowed to look at, and that even youths may not see till they have been subjected to fasting and scourging, and the earthen jars of the Peruvians that have the shrill cries of birds, and flutes of human bones such as Alfonso de Ovalle heard in Chili, and the sonorous green jaspers that are found near Cuzco and give forth a note of singular sweetness. He had painted gourds filled with pebbles that rattled when they were shaken, the long clarin of the Mexicans, into which the performer does not blow, but through which he inhales the air, the harsh ture of the Amazon tribes, that is sounded by the sentinels who sit all day long in high trees, and can be heard, it is said, at a distance of three leagues; the teponaztli, that has two vibrating tongues of wood, and is beaten with sticks that are smeared with an elastic gum obtained from the milky juice of plants; the yoil-bells of the Aztecs, that are hung in clusters like grapes; and a huge cylindrical drum, covered with the skins of great serpents, like the one that Bernal Diaz saw when he went with Cortes into the Mexican temple, and of whose doleful sound he has left us so vivid a description. The fantastic character of these instruments fascinated him, and he felt a curious delight in the thought that Art, like Nature, has her monsters, things of bestial shape and with hideous voices. Yet, after some time, he wearied of them, and would sit in his box at the Opera, either alone or with Lord Henry, listening in rapt pleasure to “Tannhäuser,” and seeing in the prelude to that great work of art a presentation of the tragedy of his own soul. On one occasion he took up the study of jewels, and appeared at a costume ball as Anne de Joyeuse, Admiral of France, in a dress covered with five hundred and sixty pearls. This taste enthralled him for years, and, indeed, may be said never to have left him. He would often spend a whole day settling and resettling in their cases the various stones that he had collected, such as the olive-green chrysoberyl that turns red by lamplight, the cymophane with its wire-like line of silver, the pistachio-coloured peridot. rose-pink and wine-yellow topazes, carbuncles of fiery scarlet with tremulous four-rayed stars, flamered cinnamon-stones, orange and violet spinels, and amethysts with their alternate layers of ruby and sapphire. He loved the red gold of the sunstone, and the moonstone’s pearly whiteness, and the broken rainbow of the milky opal. He procured from Amsterdam three emeralds of extraordinary size and richness of colour, and had a turquoise de la vieille roche that was the envy of all the connoisseurs. He discovered wonderful stories, also, about jewels. In Alphonso’s “Clericalis Disciplina” a serpent was mentioned with eyes of real jacinth, and in the romantic history of Alexander, the Conqueror of Emathia was said to have found in the vale of Jordan snakes “ with collars of real emeralds growing on their backs.” There was a gem in the brain of the dragon, Philostratus told us, and “by the exhibition of golden letters and a scarlet robe” the monster could be thrown into a magical sleep, and slain. According to the great alchemist, Pierre de Boniface, the diamond rendered a man invisible, and the agate of India made him eloquent. The cornelian appeased anger, and the hyacinth provoked sleep, and the amethyst drove away the fumes of wine. The garnet cast out demons, and the hydropicus deprived the moon of her colour. The selenite waxed and waned with the moon, and the meloceus, that discovers thieves, could be affected only by the blood of kids. Leonardus Camillus had seen a white stone taken from the brain of a newly-killed toad, that was a certain antidote against poison. The bezoar, that was found in the heart of the Arabian deer, was a charm that could cure the plague. In the nests of Arabian birds was the aspilates, that, according to Democritus, kept the wearer from any danger by fire. The King of Ceilan rode through his city with a large ruby in his hand, at the ceremony of his coronation. The gates of the palace of John the Priest were “made of sardius, with the horn of the horned snake inwrought, so that no man might bring poison within.” Over the gable were “two golden apples, in which were two carbuncles,” so that the gold might shine by day, and the carbuncles by night. In Lodge’s strange romance “A Margarite of America” it was stated that in the chamber of the queen one could behold “all the chaste ladies of the world, inchased out of silver, looking through fair mirrours of chrysolites, carbuncles, sapphires, and greene emeraults.” Marco Polo had seen the inhabitants of Zipangu place rose-coloured pearls in the mouths of the dead. A sea-monster had been enamoured of the pearl that the diver brought to King Perozes, and had slain the thief, and mourned for seven moons over its loss. When the Huns lured the king into the great pit, he flung it away—Procopius tells the story—nor was it ever found again, though the Emperor Anastasius offered five hundred-weight of gold pieces for it. The King of Malabar had shown to a certain Venetian a rosary of three hundred and four pearls, one for every god that he worshipped. When the Duke de Valentinois, son of Alexander VI., visited Louis XII. of France, his horse was loaded with gold leaves, according to Brantôme, and his cap had double rows of rubies that threw out a great light. Charles of England had ridden in stirrups hung with four hundred and twenty-one diamonds. Richard II. had a coat, valued at thirty thousand marks, which was covered with balas rubies. Hall described Henry VIII., on his way to the Tower previous to his coronation, as wearing “a jacket of raised gold, the placard embroidered with diamonds and other rich stones, and a great bauderike about his neck of large balasses.” The favourites of James I. wore earrings of emeralds set in gold filigrane. Edward II. gave to Piers Gaveston a suit of red-gold armour studded with jacinths, a collar of gold roses set with turquoise-stones, and a skull-cap parsemé with pearls. Henry II. wore jewelled gloves reaching to the elbow, and had a hawk-glove sewn with twelve rubies and fifty-two great orients. The ducal hat of Charles the Rash, the last Duke of Burgundy of his race, was hung with pear-shaped pearls, and studded with sapphires. How exquisite life had once been! How gorgeous in its pomp and decoration! Even to read of the luxury of the dead was wonderful. Then he turned his attention to embroideries, and to the tapestries that performed the office of frescoes in the chill rooms of the Northern nations of Europe. As he investigated the subject—and he always had an extraordinary faculty of becoming absolutely absorbed for the moment in whatever he took up—he was almost saddened by the reflection of the ruin that Time brought on beautiful and wonderful things. He, at any rate, had escaped that. Summer followed summer, and the yellow jonquils bloomed and died many times, and nights of horror repeated the story of their shame, but he was unchanged. No winter marred his face or stained his flower-like bloom. How different it was with material things! Where had they passed to? Where was the great crocus-coloured robe, on which the gods fought against the giants, that had been worked by brown girls for the pleasure of Athena? Where, the huge velarium that Nero had stretched across the Colosseum at Rome, that Titan sail of purple on which was represented the starry sky, and Apollo driving a chariot drawn by white gilt-reined steeds? He longed to see the curious table-napkins wrought for the Priest of the Sun, on which were displayed all the dainties and viands that could be wanted for a feast; the mortuary cloth of King Chilperic, with its three hundred golden bees; the fantastic robes that excited the indignation of the Bishop of Pontus, and were figured with lions, panthers, bears, dogs, forests, rocks, hunters—all, in fact, that a painter can copy from nature; and the coat that Charles of Orleans once wore, on the sleeves of which were embroidered the verses of a song beginning “Madame, je suis tout joyeux,” the musical accompaniment of the words being wrought in gold thread, and each note, of square shape in those days, formed with four pearls. He read of the room that was prepared at the palace at Rheims for the use of Queen Joan of Burgundy, and was decorated with “thirteen hundred and twenty-one parrots, made in broidery, and blazoned with the king’s arms, and five hundred and sixty-one butterflies, whose wings were similarly ornamented with the arms of the queen, the whole worked in gold.” Catherine de Médicis had a mourning-bed made for her of black velvet powdered with crescents and suns. Its curtains were of damask, with leafy wreaths and garlands, figured upon a gold and silver ground, and fringed along the edges with broideries of pearls, and it stood in a room hung with rows of the queen s devices in cut black velvet upon cloth of silver. Louis XIV. had gold embroidered caryatides fifteen feet high in his apartment. The state bed of Sobieski, King of Poland, was made of Smyrna gold brocade embroidered in turquoises with verses from the Koran. Its supports were of silver gilt, beautifully chased, and profusely set with enamelled and jewelled medallions. It had been taken from the Turkish camp before Vienna, and the standard of Mohammed had stood beneath the tremulous gilt of its canopy. And so, for a whole year, he sought to accumulate the most exquisite specimens that he could find of textile and embroidered work, getting the dainty Delhi muslins, finely wrought with gold-thread palmates, and stitched over with iridescent beetles’ wings; the Dacca gauzes, that from their transparency are known in the East as “woven air,” and “running water,” and “evening dew”; strange figured cloths from Java; elaborate yellow Chinese hangings; books bound in tawny satins or fair blue silks, and wrought with fleurs de lys, birds, and images; veils of lacis worked in Hungary point; Sicilian brocades, and stiff Spanish velvets; Georgian work with its gilt coins, and Japanese Foukousas with their green-toned golds and their marvellously-plumaged birds. He had a special passion, also, for ecclesiastical vestments, as indeed he had for everything connected with the service of the Church. In the long cedar chests that lined the west gallery of his house he had stored away many rare and beautiful specimens of what is really the raiment of the Bride of Christ, who must wear purple and jewels and fine linen that she may hide the pallid macerated body that is worn by the suffering that she seeks for, and wounded by self-inflicted pain. He possessed a gorgeous cope of crimson silk and gold-thread damask, figured with a repeating pattern of golden pomegranates set in six-petalled formal blossoms, beyond which on either side was the pine-apple device wrought in seed-pearls. The orphreys were divided into panels representing scenes from the life of the Virgin, and the coronation of the Virgin was figured in coloured silks upon the hood. This was Italian work of the fifteenth century. Another cope was of green velvet, embroidered with heart-shaped groups of acanthus-leaves, from which spread long-stemmed white blossoms, the details of which were picked out with silver thread and coloured crystals. The morse bore a seraph’s head in goldthread raised work. The orphreys were woven in a diaper of red and gold silk, and were starred with medallions of many saints and martyrs, among whom was St. Sebastian. He had chasubles, also, of amber-coloured silk, and blue silk and gold brocade, and yellow silk damask and cloth of gold, figured with representations of the Passion and Crucifixion of Christ, and embroidered with lions and peacocks and other emblems; dalmatics of white satin and pink silk damask, decorated with tulips and dolphins and fleurs de lys; altar frontals of crimson velvet and blue linen; and many corporals, chalice-veils, and sudaria. In the mystic offices to which such things were put, there was something that quickened his imagination. For these treasures, and everything that he collected in his lovely house, were to be to him means of forgetfulness, modes by which he could escape, for a season, from the fear that seemed to him at times to be almost too great to be borne. Upon the walls of the lonely locked room where le had spent so much of his boyhood, le had hung with his own hands the terrible portrait whose changing features showed him the real degradation of his life, and in front of it had draped the purple-and-gold pall as a curtain. For weeks he would not go there, would forget the hideous painted thing, and get back his light heart, his wonderful joyousness, his passionate absorption in mere existence. Then, suddenly, some night he would creep out of the house, go down to dreadful places near Blue Gate Fields, and stay there, day after day, until he was driven away. On his return he would sit in front of the picture, sometimes loathing it and himself, but filled, at other tinies, with that pride of individualism that is half the fascination of sin, and smiling with secret pleasure, at the misshapen shadow that had to bear the burden that should have been his own. After a few years he could not endure to be long out of England, and gave up the villa that he had shared at Trouville with Lord Henry, as well as the little white walled-in house at Algiers where they had more than once spent the winter. He hated to be separated from the picture that was such a part of his life, and was also afraid that during his absence someone might gain access to the room, in spite of the elaborate bars that he had caused to be placed upon the door. He was quite conscious that this would tell them nothing. It was true that the portrait still preserved, under all the foulness and ugliness of the face, its marked likeness to himself; but what could they learn from that? He would laugh at anyone who tried to taunt him. He had not painted it. What was it to him how vile and full of shame it looked? Even if he told them, would they believe it? Yet he was afraid. Sometimes when he was down at his great house in Nottinghamshire, entertaining the fashionable young men of his own rank who were his chief companions, and astounding the county by the wanton luxury and gorgeous splendour of his mode of life, he would suddenly leave his guests and rush back to town to see that the door had not been tampered with, and that the picture was still there. What if it should be stolen? The mere thought made him cold with horror. Surely the world would know his secret then. Perhaps the world already suspected it. For, while he fascinated many, there were not a few who distrusted him. He was very nearly blackballed at a West End club of which his birth and social position fully entitled him to become a member, and it was said that on one occasion when he was brought by a friend into the smoking-room of the Churchill, the Duke of Berwick and another gentleman got up in a marked manner and went out. Curious stories became current about him after he had passed his twenty-fifth year. It was rumoured that he had been seen brawling with foreign sailors in a low den in the distant parts of Whitechapel, and that he consorted with thieves and coiners and knew the mysteries of their trade. His extraordinary absences became notorious, and, when he used to reappear again in society, men would whisper to each other in corners, or pass him with a sneer, or look at him with cold searching eyes, as though they were determined to discover his secret. Of such insolences and attempted slights he, of course, took no notice, and in the opinion of most people his frank debonair manner, his charming boyish smile, and the infinite grace of that wonderful youth that seemed never to leave him, were in themselves a sufficient answer to the calumnies, for so they termed them, that were circulated about him. It was remarked, however, that some of those who had been most intimate with him appeared, after a time, to shun him. Women who had wildly adored him, and for his sake had braved all social censure and set convention at defiance, were seen to grow pallid with shame or horror if Dorian Gray entered the room. Yet these whispered scandals only increased, in the eyes of many, his strange and dangerous charm. His great wealth was a certain element-of security, Society, civilised society at least, is never very ready to believe anything to the detriment of those who are both rich and fascinating. It feels instinctively that manners are of more importance than morals, and, in its opinion, the highest respectability is of much less value than the possession of a good chef. And, after all, it is a very poor consolation to be told that the man who has given one a bad dinner, or poor wine, is irreproachable in his private life. Even the cardinal virtues cannot atone for half-cold entrées, as Lord Henry remarked once, in a discussion on the subject and there is possibly a good deal to be said for his view. For the canons of good society are, or should be, the same as the canons of art. Form is absolutely essential to it. It should have the dignity of a ceremony, as well as its unreality, and should combine the insincere character of a romantic play with the wit and beauty that make such plays delightful to us. Is insincerity such a terrible thing? I think not. It is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities. Such, at any rate, was Dorian Gray’s opinion. He used to wonder at the shallow psychology of those who conceive the Ego in man as a thing simple, permanent, reliable, and of one essence. To him, man was a being with myriad lives and myriad sensations, a complex multiform creature that bore within itself strange legacies of thought and passion, and whose very flesh was tainted with the monstrous maladies of the dead. He loved to stroll through the gaunt cold picture-gallery of his country house and look at the various portraits of those whose blood flowed in his veins. Here was Philip Herbert, described by Francis Osborne, in his “Memoires on the Reigns of Queen Elizabeth and King James,” as one who was “caressed by the Court for his handsome face, which kept him not long company.” Was it young Herbert’s life that he sometimes led? Had some strange poisonous germ crept from body to body till it had reached his own? Was it some dim sense of that ruined grace that had made him so suddenly, and almost without cause, give utterance, in Basil Hallward’s studio, to the mad prayer that had so changed his life? Here, in gold-embroidered red doublet, jewelled surcoat, and gilt-edged ruff and wrist-bands, stood Sir Anthony Sherard, with his silver-and-black armour piled at his feet. What had this man’s legacy been? Had the lover of Giovanna of Naples bequeathed him some inheritance of sin and shame? Were his own actions merely the dreams that the dead man had not dared to realise? Here, from the fading canvas, smiled Lady Elizabeth Devereux, in her gauze hood, pearl stomacher, and pink slashed sleeves. A flower was in her right hand, and her left clasped an enamelled collar of white and damask roses. On a table by her side lay a mandolin and an apple. There were large green rosettes upon her little pointed shoes. He knew her life, and the strange stories that were told about her lovers. Had he something of her temperament in him? These oval heavy-lidded eyes seemed to look curiously at him. What of George Willoughby, with his powdered hair and fantastic patches? How evil he looked! The face was saturnine and swarthy, and the sensual lips seemed to be twisted with disdain. Delicate lace ruffles fell over the lean yellow hands that were so over-laden with rings. He had been a macaroni of the eighteenth century, and the friend, in his youth, of rr Lord Fellars. What of the second Lord Beckenham, the companion of the Prince Regent in his wildest days, and one of the witnesses at the secret marriage with Mrs. Fitzherbert? How proud and handsome he was, with his chestnut curls and insolent pose! What passions had he bequeathed? The world had looked upon him as infamous. He had led the orgies at Carlton House. The star of the Garter glittered upon his breast. Beside him hung the portrait of his wife, a pallid, thin-lipped woman in black. Her blood, also, stirred within him. How curious it all seemed! And his mother with her Lady Hamilton face, and her moist wine-dashed lips—he knew what he had got from her. He had got from her his beauty, and his passion for the beauty of others. She laughed at him in her loose Bacchante dress. There were vine leaves in her hair. The purple spilled from the cup she was holding. The carnations of the painting had withered, but the eyes were still wonderful in their depth and brilliancy of colour. They seemed to follow him wherever he went. Yet one had ancestors in literature, as well as in one’s own race, nearer perhaps in type and temperament, many of them, and certainly with an insluence of which one was more absolutely conscious. There were times when it appeared to Dorian Gray that the whole of history was merely the record of his own life, not as he had lived it in act and circumstance, but as his imagination had created it for him, as it had been in his brain and in his passions. He felt that he had known them all, those strange terrible figures that had passed across the stage of the world and made sin so marvellous, and evil so full of subtlety. It seemed to him that in some mysterious way their lives had been his own. The hero of the wonderful novel that had so influenced his life had himself known this curious fancy. In the seventh chapter he tells how, crowned with laurel, lest lightning might strike him, he had sat, as Tiberius, in a garden at Capri, reading the shameful books of Elephantis, while dwarfs and peacocks strutted round him, and the flute-player mocked the swinger of the censer; and, as Caligula, had caroused with the green-shirted jockeys in their stables and supped in an ivory manger with a jewel-frontleted horse; and, as Domitian, had wandered through a corridor lined with marble mirrors, looking round with haggard eyes for the reflection of the dagger that was to end his days, and sick with that ennui, that terrible tædium vitæ, that comes on those to whom life denies nothing; and had peered through a clear emerald at the red shambles of the Circus, and then, in a litter of pearl and purple drawn by silver-shod mules, been carried through the Street of Pomegranates to a House of Gold, and heard men cry on Nero Cæsar as he passed by; and, as Elagabalus, had painted his face with colours, and plied the distaff among the women, and brought the Moon from Carthage, and given her in mystic marriage to the Sun. Over and over again Dorian used to read this fantastic chapter, and the two chapters immediately following, in which, as in some curious tapestries or cunningly-wrought enamels, were pictured the awful and beautiful forms of those whom Vice and Blood and Weariness had made monstrous or mad: Filippo, Duke of Milan, who slew his wife, and painted her lips with a scarlet poison that her lover might suck death from the dead thing he fondled; Pietro Barbi, the Venetian, known as Paul the Second, who sought in his vanity to assume the title of Formosus, and whose tiara, valued at two hundred thousand florins, was bought at the price of a terrible sin; Gian Maria Visconti, who used hounds to chase living men, and whose murdered body was covered with roses by a harlot who had loved him; the Borgia on his white horse, with Fratricide riding beside him, and his mantle stained with the blood of Perotto; Pietro Riario, the young Cardinal Archbishop of Florence, child and minion of Sixtus IV., whose beauty was equalled only by his debauchery, and who received Leonora of Aragon in a pavilion of white and crimson silk, filled with nymphs and centaurs, and gilded a boy that he might serve at the feast as Ganymede or Hylas; Ezzelin, whose melancholy could be cured only by the spectacle of death, and who had a passion for red blood, as other men have for red wine—the son of the Fiend, as was reported, and one who had cheated his father at dice when gambling with him for his own soul; Giambattista Cibo, who in mockery took the name of Innocent, and into whose torpid veins the blood of three lads was infused by a Jewish doctor; Sigismondo Malatesta, the lover of Isotta, and the lord of Rimini, whose effigy was burned at Rome as the enemy of God and man, who strangled Polyssena with a napkin, and gave poison to Ginevra d’Este in a cup of emerald, and in honour of a shameful passion built a pagan church for Christian worship, Charles VI., who had so wildly adored his brother’s wife that a leper had warned him of the insanity that was coming on him, and who, when his brain had sickened and grown strange, could only be soothed by Saracen cards painted with the images of Love and Death and Madness; and, in his trimmed jerkin and jewelled cap and acanthus-like curls, Grifonetto Baglioni, who slew Astorre with his bride, and Simonetto with his page, and whose comeliness was such that, as he lay dying in the yellow piazza of Perugia, those who had hated him could not choose but weep, and Atalanta, who had cursed him, blessed him. There was a horrible fascination in them all. He saw them at night, and they troubled his imagination in the day. The Renaissance knew of strange manners of poisoning—poisoning by a helmet and a lighted torch, by an embroidered glove and a jewelled fan, by a gilded pomander and by an amber chain. Dorian Gray had been poisoned by a book. There were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realise his conception of the beautiful.
CHAPTER XII
It was on the ninth of November, the eve of his own thirty-eighth birthday, as he often remembered afterwards. He was walking home about eleven o’clock from Lord Henry’s, where he had been dining, and was wrapped in heavy furs, as the night was cold and foggy. At the corner of Grosvenor Square and South Audley Street a man passed him in the mist, walking very fast, and with the collar of his grey ulster turned up. He had a bag in his hand. Dorian recognised him. It was Basil Hallward. A strange sense of fear, for which he could not account, came over him. He made no sign of recognition, and went on quickly in the direction of his own house. But Hallward had seen him. Dorian heard him first stopping on the pavement, and then hurrying after him. In a few moments his hand was on his arm. “Dorian! What an extraordinary piece of luck! I have been waiting for you in your library ever since nine o’clock. Finally I took pity on your tired servant, and told him to go to bed, as he let me out. I am off to Paris by the midnight train, and I particularly wanted to see you before I left. I thought it was you, or rather your fur coat, as you passed me. But I wasn’t quite sure. Didn’t you recognise me?” “In this fog, my dear Basil? Why, I can’t even recognise Grosvenor Square. I believe my house is somewhere about here, but I don’t feel at all certain about it. I am sorry you are going away, as I have not seen you for ages. But I suppose you will be back soon?” “No: I am going to be out of England for six months. I intend to take a studio in Paris, and shut myself up till I have finished a great picture I have in my head. However, it wasn’t about myself I wanted to talk. Here we are at your door. Let me come in for a moment. I have something to say to you.” “I shall be charmed. But won’t you miss your train?” said Dorian Gray, languidly, as he passed up the steps and opened the door with his latchkey. The lamp-light struggled out through the fog, and Hallward looked at his watch. “I have heaps of time,” he answered. “The train doesn’t go till twelve-fifteen, and it is only just eleven. In fact, I was on my way to the club to look for you, when I met you. You see, I shan’t have any delay about luggage, as I have sent on my heavy things. All I have with me is in this bag, and I can easily get to Victoria in twenty minutes.” Dorian looked at him and smiled. “What a way for a fashionable painter to travel! A Gladstone bag, and an ulster! Come in, or the fog will get into the house. And mind you don’t talk about anything serious. Nothing is serious nowadays. At least nothing should be.” Hallward shook his head as he entered, and followed Dorian into the library. There was a bright wood fire blazing in the large open hearth. The lamps were lit, and an open Dutch silver spirit-case stood, with some siphons of soda-water and large cut-glass tumblers, on a little marqueterie table. “You see your servant made me quite at home, Dorian. He gave me everything I wanted, including your best gold-tipped cigarettes. He is a most hospitable creature. I like him much better than the Frenchman you used to have. What has become of the Frenchman, by the bye?” Dorian shrugged his shoulders. “I believe he married Lady Radley’s maid, and has established her in Paris as an English dressmaker. Anglomanie is very fashionable over there now, I hear. It seems silly of the French, doesn’t it? But—do you know? -he was not at all a bad servant. I never liked him, but I had nothing to complain about. One often imagines things that are quite absurd. He was really very devoted to me, and seemed quite sorry when he went away. Have another brandy-and-soda: Or would you like hock-and-seltzer? I always take hock-and-seltzer myself. There is sure to be some in the next room.” “Thanks, I won’t have anything more,” said the painter, taking his cap and coat off, and throwing them on the bag that he had placed in the corner. “And now, my dear fellow, I want to speak to you seriously. Don’t frown like that. You make it so much more difficult for me.” “What is it all about? “ cried Dorian, in his petulant way, slinging himself down on the sofa. “I hope it is not about myself. I am tired of myself to-night. I should like to be somebody else.” “It is about yourself,” answered Hallward, in his grave, deep voice, “and I must say it to you. shall only keep you half an hour.” Dorian sighed, and lit a cigarette. “Half an hour!” he murmured. “It is not much to ask of you, Dorian, and it is entirely for your own sake that I am speaking. think it right that you should know that the most dreadful things are being said against you in London. I don’t wish to know anything about them. love scandals about other people, but scandals about myself don’t interest me. They have not got the charm of novelty.” “They must interest you, Dorian. Every gentleman is interested in his good name. You don’t want people to talk of you as something vile and degraded. Of course you have your position, and your wealth, and all that kind of thing. But position and wealth are not everything. Mind you, I don’t believe these rumours at all. At least, I can’t believe them when I see you. Sin is a thing that writes itself across a man’s face. It cannot be concealed. People talk sometimes of secret vices. There are no such things. If a wretched man has a vice, it shows itself in the lines of his mouth, the droop of his eyelids, the moulding of his hands even. Somebody—I won’t mention his name, but you know him—came to me last year to have his portrait done. I had never seen him before, and had never heard anything about him at the time, though I have heard a good deal since. He offered an extravagant price. I refused him. There was something in the shape of his fingers that I hated. I know now that I was quite right in what I fancied about him. His life is dreadful. But you, Dorian, with your pure, bright, innocent face, and your marvellous untroubled youth—I can’t believe anything against you. And yet I see you very seldom, and you never come down to the studio now, and when I am away from you, and I hear all these hideous things that people are whispering about you, I don’t know what to say. Why is it, Dorian, that a man like the Duke of Berwick leaves the room of a club when you enter it? Why is it that so many gentlemen in London will neither go to your house nor invite you to theirs? You used to be a friend of Lord Staveley. I met him at dinner last week. Your name happened to come up in conversation, in connection with the miniatures you have lent to the exhibition at the Dudley. Staveley curled his lip, and said that you might have the most artistic tastes, but that you were a man whom no pure-minded girl should be allowed to know, and whom no chaste woman should sit in the same room with. I reminded him that I was a friend of yours, and asked him what he meant. He told me. He told me right out before everybody. It was horrible! Why is your friendship so fatal to young men? There was that wretched boy in the Guards who committed suicide. You were his great friend. There was Sir Henry Ashton, who had to leave England, with a tarnished name. You and he were inseparable. What about Adrian Singleton, and his dreadful end? What about Lord Kent’s only son, and his career? I met his father yesterday in St. James’s Street. He seemed broken with shame and sorrow. What about the young Duke of Perth? What sort of life has he got now? What gentleman would associate with him” “Stop, Basil. You are talking about things of which you know nothing,” said Dorian Gray, biting his lip, and with a note of infinite contempt in his “You ask me why Berwick leaves a room voice. when I enter it. It is because I know everything about his life, not because he knows anything about mine. With such blood as he has in his veins, how could his record be clean? You ask me about Henry Ashton and young Perth. Did I teach the one his vices, and the other his debauchery? If Kent’s silly son takes his wife from the streets what is that to me? If Adrian Singleton writes his friend’s name across a bill, am I his keeper? I know how people chatter in England. The middle classes air their moral prejudices over their gross dinner-tables, and whisper about what they call the profligacies of their betters in order to try and pretend that they are in smart society, and on intimate terms with the people they slander. In this country it is enough for a man to have distinction and brains for every common tongue to wag against him. And what sort of lives do these people, who pose as being moral, lead themselves? My dear fellow, you forget that we are in the native land of the hypocrite.” “Dorian,” cried Hallward, “that is not the question. England is bad enough, I know, and English society is all wrong. That is the reason why I want you to be fine. You have not been fine. One has a right to judge of a man by the effect he has over his friends. Yours seem to lose all sense of honour, of goodness, of purity. You have filled them with a madness for pleasure. They have gone down into the depths. You led them there. Yes: you led them there, and yet you can smile, as you are smiling now. And there is worse behind. I know you and Harry are inseparable. Surely for that reason, if for none other, you should not have made his sister’s name a by-word.” “Take care, Basil. You go too far.” “I must speak, and you must listen. You shall listen. When you met Lady Gwendolen, not a breath of scandal had ever touched her. Is there a single decent woman in London now who would drive with her in the Park? Why, even her children are not allowed to live with her. Then there are other stories—stories that you have been seen creeping at dawn out of dreadful houses and slinking in disguise into the foulest dens in London. Are they true? Can they be true? When I first heard them, I laughed. I hear them now, and they make me shudder. What about your country house, and the life that is led there? Dorian, you don’t know what is said about you. I won’t tell you that I don’t want to preach to you. I remember Harry saying once that every man who turned himself into an amateur curate for the moment always began by saying that, and then proceeded to break his word. I do want to preach to you. I want you to lead such a life as will make the world respect you. I want you to have a clean name and a fair record. I want you to get rid of the dreadful people you associate with. Don’t shrug your shoulders like that. Don’t be so indifferent. You have a wonderful influence. Let it be for good, not for evil. They say that you corrupt everyone with whom you become intimate, and that it is quite sufficient for you to enter a house, for shame of some kind to follow after. I don’t know whether it is so or not. How should I know? But it is said of you. I am told things that it seems Impossible to doubt. Lord Gloucester was one of my greatest friends at Oxford. He showed me a letter that his wife had written to him when she was dying alone in her villa at Mentone. Your name was implicated in the most terrible confession I ever read. I told him that it was absurd—that I knew you thoroughly, and that you were incapable of anything of the kind. Know you? I wonder do I know you? Before I could answer that, I should have to see your soul.” “To see my soul!” muttered Dorian Gray, starting up from the sofa and turning almost white from fear. “Yes,” answered Hallward, gravely, and with deep-toned sorrow in his voice— “to see your soul. But only God can do that.” A bitter laugh of mockery broke from the lips of the younger man. “You shall see it yourself, tonight!” he cried, seizing a lamp from the table. “Come: it is your own handiwork. Why shouldn’t you look at it? You can tell the world all about it afterwards, if you choose. Nobody would believe you. If they did believe you, they would like me all the better for it. I know the age better than you do, though you will prate about it so tediously. Come, I tell you. You have chattered enough about corruption. Now you shall look on it face to face.” There was the madness of pride in every word he uttered. He stamped his foot upon the ground in his boyish insolent manner. He felt a terrible joy at the thought that someone else was to share his secret, and that the man who had painted the portrait that was the origin of all his shame was to be burdened for the rest of his life with the hideous memory of what he had done. “Yes,” he continued, coming closer to him, and looking steadfastly into his stern eyes, “I shall show you my soul. You shall see the thing that you fancy only God can see.” Hallward started back. “This is blasphemy, Dorian!” he cried. “You must not say things like that. They are horrible, and they don’t mean anything.” “You think so?” He laughed again. “I know so. As for what I said to you to-night, I said it for your good. You know I have been always a staunch friend to you.” “Don’t touch me. Finish what you have to say.” A twisted flash of pain shot across the painter’s face. He paused for a moment, and a wild feeling of pity came over him. After all, what right had he to pry into the life of Dorian Gray? If he had done a tithe of what was rumoured about him, how much he must have suffered! Then he straightened himself up, and walked over to the fireplace, and stood there, looking at the burning logs with their frost-like ashes and their throbbing cores of flame. “I am waiting, Basil,” said the young man, in a hard, clear voice. He turned round. “What I have to say is this,” he cried. “You must give me some answer to these horrible charges that are made against you. If you tell me that they are absolutely untrue from beginning to end, I shall believe you. Deny them, Dorian, deny them! Can’t you see what I am going through? My God! don’t tell me that you are bad, and corrupt, and shameful.” Dorian Gray smiled. There was a curl of contempt in his lips. “Come upstairs, Basil,” he said, quietly. “I keep a diary of my life from day to day, and it never leaves the room in which it is written. I shall show it to you if you come with me.” “I shall come with you, Dorian, if you wish it. I see I have missed my train. That makes no matter. I can go to-morrow. But don’t ask me to read anything to-night. All I want is a plain answer to my question.” “That shall be given to you upstairs. I could not give it here. You will not have to read long.”
CHAPTER XIII
He passed out of the room, and began the ascent, Basil Hallward following close behind. They walked softly, as men do instinctively at night. The lamp cast fantastic shadows on the wall and staircase. A rising wind made some of the windows rattle. When they reached the top landing, Dorian set the lamp down on the floor, and taking out the key turned It in the lock. “You insist on knowing, Basil? “ he asked, in a low voice. “Yes.” “I am delighted,” he answered, smiling. Then he added, somewhat harshly, “You are the one man In the world who is entitled to know everything about me. You have had more to do with my life than you think:” and, taking up the lamp, he opened the door and went in. A cold current of air passed them, and the light shot up for a moment in a flame of murky orange. He shuddered. “Shut the door behind you,” he whispered, as he placed the lamp on the table. Hallward glanced round him, with a puzzled expression. The room looked as if it had not been lived in for years. A faded Flemish tapestry, a curtained picture, an old Italian cassone, and an almost empty bookcase—that was all that it seemed to contain, besides a chair and a table. As Dorian Gray was lighting a half-burned candle that was standing on the mantelshelf, he saw that the whole place was covered with dust, and that the carpet was in holes. A mouse ran scuffling behind the wainscoting. There was a damp odour of mildew. “So you think that it is only God who sees the soul, Basil? Draw that curtain back, and you will see mine.” The voice that spoke was cold and cruel. “You are mad, Dorian, or playing a part,” muttered Hallward, frowning.” You won’t? Then I must do it myself,” said the young man; and he tore the curtain from its rod, and flung it on the ground. An exclamation of horror broke from the painter’s lips as he saw in the dim light the hideous face on the canvas grinning at him. There was something in its expression that filled him with disgust and loathing. Good heavens! it was Dorian Gray’s own face that he was looking at! The horror, whatever it was, had not yet entirely spoiled that marvellous beauty. There was still some gold in the thinning hair and some scarlet on the sensual mouth. The sodden eyes had kept something of the loveliness of their blue, the noble curves had not yet completely passed away from chiselled nostrils and from plastic throat. Yes, it was Dorian himself. But who had done it? He seemed to recognise his own brushwork, and the frame was his own design. The idea was monstrous, yet he felt afraid. He seized the lighted candle, and held it to the picture. In the left-hand corner was his own name, traced in long letters of bright vermilion. It was some foul parody, some infamous, ignoble satire. He had never done that. Still, it was his own picture. He knew it, and he felt as if his blood had changed in a moment from fire to sluggish ice. His own picture! What did it mean? Why had it altered? He turned, and looked at Dorian Gray with the eyes of a sick man. His mouth-twitched. and his parched tongue seemed unable to articulate. He passed his hand across his forehead. It was dank with clammy sweat. The young man was leaning against the mantelshelf, watching him with that strange expression that one sees on the faces of those who are absorbed in a play when some great artist is acting. There was neither real sorrow in it nor real joy. There was simply the passion of the spectator, with perhaps a flicker of triumph in his eyes. He had taken the flower out of his coat, and was smelling it, or pretending to do so. “What does this mean?” cried Hallward, at last. His own voice sounded shrill and curious in his ears. “Years ago, when I was a boy,” said Dorian Gray, crushing the flower in his hand, “you met me, flattered me, and taught me to be vain of my good looks. One day you introduced me to a friend of yours, who explained to me the wonder of youth, and you finished the portrait of me that revealed to me the wonder of beauty. In a mad moment, that, even now, I don’t know whether I regret or not, I made a wish, perhaps you would call it a prayer…” “I remember it! Oh, how well I remember it! No! the thing is impossible. The room is damp. Mildew has got into the canvas. The paints I used had some wretched mineral poison in them. I tell you the thing is impossible.” “Ah, what is impossible?” murmured the young man, going over to the window, and leaning his forehead against the cold, mist-stained glass. “You told me you had destroyed it.” “I was wrong. It has destroyed me.” “I don’t believe it is my picture.” “Can’t you see your ideal in it?” said Dorian, bitterly. “My ideal, as you call it…” “As you called it.” “There was nothing evil in it, nothing shameful. You were to me such an ideal as I shall never meet again. This is the face of a satyr.” “It is the face of my soul.” “Christ! what a thing I must have worshipped! It has the eyes of a devil.” “Each of us has Heaven and Hell in him, Basil,” cried Dorian, with a wild gesture of despair. Hallward turned again to the portrait, and gazed at it. “My God! if it is true,” he exclaimed, “and this is what you have done with your life, why, you must be worse even than those who talk against you fancy you to be!” He held the light up again to the canvas, and examined it. The surface seemed to be quite undisturbed, and as he had left it. It was from within, apparently, that the foulness and horror had come. Through some strange quickening of inner life the leprosies of sin were slowly eating the thing away. The rotting of a corpse in a watery grave was not so fearful. His hand shook, and the candle fell from its socket on the floor, and lay there sputtering. He placed his foot on it and put it out. Then he flung himself into the rickety chair that was standing by the table and buried his face in his hands. “Good God, Dorian, what a lesson! what an awful lesson!” There was no answer, but he could hear the young man sobbing at the window. “Pray, Dorian, pray,” he murmured. “What is it that one was taught to say in one’s boyhood? ‘Lead us not into temptation. Forgive us our sins. Wash away our iniquities.’ Let us say that together. The prayer of your pride has been answered. The prayer of your repentance will be answered also. I worshipped you too much. I am punished for it. You worshipped yourself too much. We are both punished.” Dorian Gray turned slowly around, and looked at him with tear-dimmed eyes. “It is too late, Basil,” he faltered. “It is never too late, Dorian. Let us kneel down and try if we cannot remember a prayer. Isn’t there a verse somewhere, ‘Though your sins be as scarlet, yet I will make them as white as snow’?” “Those words mean nothing to me now.” “Hush! don’t say that. You have done enough evil in your life. My God! don’t you see that accursed thing leering at us?” Dorian Gray glanced at the picture, and suddenly an uncontrollable feeling of hatred for Basil Hallward came over him, as though it had been suggested to him by the image on the canvas, whispered into his ear by those grinning lips. The mad passions of a hunted animal stirred within him, and he loathed the man who was seated at the table, more than in his whole life he had ever loathed anything. He glanced wildly around. Something glimmered on the top of the painted chest that faced him. His eye fell on it. He knew what it was. It was a knife that he had brought up, some days before, to cut a piece of cord, and had forgotten to take away with him. He moved slowly towards it, passing Hallward as he did so. As soon as he got behind him, he seized it, and turned round. Hallward stirred in his chair as if he was going to rise. He rushed at him, and dug the knife into the great vein that is behind the ear, crushing the man’s head down on the table, and stabbing again and again. There was a stifled groan, and the horrible sound of someone choking with blood. Three times the outstretched arms shot up convulsively, waving grotesque stiff-fingered hands in the air. He stabbed him twice more, but the man did not move. Something began to trickle on the floor. He waited for a moment, still pressing the head down. Then he threw the knife on the table, and listened. He could hear nothing but the drip, drip on the threadbare carpet. He opened the door and went out on the landing. The house was absolutely quiet. No one was about. For a few seconds he stood bending over the balustrade, and peering down into the black seething well of darkness. Then he took out the key and returned to the room, locking himself in as he did so. The thing was still seated in the chair, straining over the table with bowed head, and humped back, and long fantastic arms. Had it not been for the red jagged tear in the neck, and the clotted black pool that was slowly widening on the table, one would have said that the man was simply asleep. How quickly it had all been done! He felt strangely calm, and, walking over to the window, opened it, and stepped out on the balcony. The wind had blown the fog away, and the sky was like a monstrous peacock’s tail, starred with myriads of golden eyes. He looked down, and saw the policeman going his rounds and flashing the long beam of his lantern on the doors of the silent houses. The crimson spot of a prowling hansom gleamed at the corner, and then vanished. A woman in a fluttering shawl was creeping slowly by the railings, staggering as she went. Now and then she stopped, and peered back. Once, she began to sing in a hoarse voice. The policeman strolled over and said something to her. She stumbled away, laughing. A bitter blast swept across the Square. The gas-lamps flickered, and became blue, and the leafless trees shook their black iron branches to and fro. He shivered, and went back, closing the window behind him. Having reached the door, he turned the key, and opened it. He did not even glance at the murdered man. He felt that the secret of the whole thing was not to realise the situation. The friend who had painted the fatal portrait to which all his misery had been due, had gone out of his life. That was enough. Then he remembered the lamp. It was a rather curious one of Moorish workmanship, made of dull silver inlaid with arabesques of burnished steel, and studded with coarse turquoises. Perhaps it might be missed by his servant, and questions would be asked. He hesitated for a moment, then he turned back and took it from the table. He could not help seeing the dead thing. How still it was! How horribly white the long hands looked! It was like a dreadful wax image. Having locked the door behind him, he crept quietly downstairs. The woodwork creaked, and seemed to cry out as if in pain. He stopped several times, and waited. No: everything was still. It was merely the sound of his own footsteps. When he reached the library, he saw the bag and coat in the corner. They must be hidden away somewhere. He unlocked a secret press that was in the wainscoting, a press in which he kept his own curious disguises, and put them into it. He could easily burn them afterwards. Then he pulled out his watch. It was twenty minutes to two. He sat down, and began to think. Every year—every month, almost—men were strangled in England for what he had done. There had been a madness of murder in the air. Some red star had come too close to the earth…. And yet what evidence was there against him? Basil Hallward had left the house at eleven. No one had seen him come in again. Most of the servants were at Selby Royal. His valet had gone to bed…. Paris! Yes. It was to Paris that Basil had gone, and by the midnight With his curious reserved train, as he had intended. habits, it would be months before any suspicions would be aroused. Months! Everything could be destroyed long before then. A sudden thought struck him. He put on his fur coat and hat, and went out into the hall. There he paused, hearing the slow heavy tread of the policeman on the pavement outside, and secing the flash of the bull’s-eye reflected in the window. He waited, and held his breath. After a few moments he drew back the latch, and slipped out, shutting the door very gently behind him. Then he began ringing the bell. In about five minutes his valet appeared half dressed, and looking very drowsy. “I am sorry to have had to wake you up, Francis,” he said, stepping in; “but I had forgotten my latch-key. What time is it?” “Ten minutes past two, sir,” answered the man, looking at the clock and blinking. “Ten minutes past two? How horribly late! You must wake me at nine to-morrow. I have some work to do.” “All right, sir.” “Did anyone call this evening?” “Mr. Hallward, sir. He stayed here till eleven, and then he went away to catch his train.” “Oh! I am sorry I didn’t see him. Did he leave any message?” “No, sir, except that he would write to you from Paris, if he did not find you at the club.” “That will do, Francis. Don’t forget to call me at nine to-morrow.” “No, sir.” The man shambled down the passage in his slippers. Dorian Gray threw his hat and coat upon the table, and passed into the library. For a quarter of an hour he walked up and down the room biting his lip, and thinking. Then he took down the Blue Book from one of the shelves, and began to turn over the leaves. “Alan Campbell, 152, Hertford Street, Mayfair.” Yes; that was the man he wanted.
CHAPTER XIV
At nine o’clock the next morning his servant came In with a cup of chocolate on a tray, and opened the shutters. Dorian was sleeping quite peacefully, lying on his right side, with one hand underneath his cheek. He looked like a boy who had been tired out with play, or study. The man had to touch him twice on the shoulder before he woke, and as he opened his eyes a faint smile passed across his lips, as though he had been lost in some delightful dream. Yet he had not dreamed at all. His night had been untroubled by any images of pleasure or of pain. But youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms. He turned round, and, leaning upon his elbow, began to sip his chocolate. The mellow November sun came streaming into the room. The sky was bright, and there was a genial warmth in the air. It was almost like a morning in May. Gradually the events of the preceding night crept with silent blood-stained feet into his brain, and reconstructed themselves there with terrible distinctness. He winced at the memory of all that he had suffered, and for a moment the same curious feeling of loathing for Basil Hallward that had made him kill him as he sat in the chair, came back to him, and he grew cold with passion. The dead man was still sitting there, too, and in the sunlight now. How horrible that was! Such hideous things were for the darkness, not for the day. He felt that if he brooded on what he had gone through he would sicken or grow mad. There were sins whose fascination was more in the memory than in the doing of them, strange triumphs that gratified the pride more than the passions, and gave to the intellect a quickened sense of joy, greater than any joy they brought, or could ever bring, to the senses. But this was not one of them. It was a thing to be driven out of the mind, to be drugged with poppies, to be strangled lest it might strangle one itself. When the half-hour struck, he passed his hand across his forehead, and then got up hastily, and dressed himself with even more than his usual care, giving a good deal of attention to the choice of his necktie and scarf-pin, and changing his rings more than once. He spent a long time also over breakfast, tasting the various dishes, talking to his valet about some new liveries that he was thinking of getting made for the servants at Selby, and going through his correspondence. At some of the letters he smiled. Three of them bored him. One he read several times over, and then tore up with a slight look of annoyance in his face. “That awful thing, woman’s memory!” as Lord Henry had once said. After he had drunk his cup of black coffee, he wiped his lips slowly with a napkin, motioned to his servant to wait, and going over to the table sat down and wrote two letters. One he put in his pocket, the other he handed to the valet. “Take this round to 152, Hertford Street, Francis, and if Mr. Campbell is out of town, get his address.” As soon as he was alone, he lit a cigarette, and began sketching upon a piece of paper, drawing first flowers, and bits of architecture, and then human faces. Suddenly he remarked that every face that he drew seemed to have a fantastic likeness to Basil Hallward. He frowned, and, getting up, went over to the bookcase and took out a volume at hazard. He was determined that he would not think about what had happened until it became absolutely necessary that he should do so. When he had stretched himself on the sofa, he looked at the title-page of the book. It was Gautier’s “Émaux et Camées,” Charpentier’s Japanese-paper edition, with the Jacquemart etching. The binding was of citron-green leather, with a design of gilt trellis-work and dotted pomegranates. It had been given to him by Adrian Singleton. As he turned over the pages his eye fell on the poem about the hand of Lacenaire, the cold yellow hand, “du supplice encore mal lavée,” with its downy red hairs and its “doigts de faune.” He glanced at his own white taper fingers, shuddering slightly in spite of himself, and passed on, till he came to those lovely stanzas upon Venice: “Sur une gamme ehromatique, Le sein de perles ruisselant, La Vénus de l’Adriatique Sort de l’eau son corps rose et blanc. Les dômes, sur l’azur des ondes Suivant la phrase au pur contour, S’enflent comme des gorges ronde. Que soulève un soupir d’amour. L’esquif aborde et me dépose Jetant son amarre au pilier, Devant une façade rose, Sur le marbre d’un escalier.” How exquisite they were! As one read them, one seemed to be floating down the green waterways of the pink and pearl city, seated in a black gondola with silver prow and trailing curtains. The mere lines looked to him like those straight lines of turquoise-blue that follow one as one pushes out to the Lido. The sudden flashes of colour reminded him of the gleam of the opal-and-iris-throated birds that flutter round the tall honeycombed Campanile, or stalk, with such stately grace, through the dim, dust-stained arcades. Leaning back with half-closed eyes, he kept saying over and over to himself: “Devant une façade rose, Sur le marbre d’un esealier.” The whole of Venice was in those two lines. He remembered the autumn that he had passed there, and a wonderful love that had stirred him to mad, delightful follies. There was romance in every place. But Venice, like Oxford, had kept the background for romance, and, to the true romantic, background was everything, or almost everything. Basil had been with him part of the time, and had gone wild over Tintoret. Poor Basil! what a horrible way for a man to die! He sighed, and took up the volume again, and tried to forget. He read of the swallows that fly in and out of the little café at Smyrna where the Hadjis sit counting their amber beads and the turbaned merchants smoke their long tasselled pipes and talk gravely to each other; he read of the Obelisk in the Place de la Concorde that weeps tears of granite in Its lonely sunless exile, and longs to be back by the hot lotus-covered Nile, where there are Sphinxes, and rose-red ibises, and white vultures with gilded claws, and crocodiles, with small beryl eyes, that crawl over the green steaming mud; he began to brood over those verses which, drawing music from kiss-stained marble, tell of that curious statue that Gautier compares to a contralto voice, the “monstre charmant” that couches in the porphyry-room of the Louvre. But after a time the book fell from his hand. He grew nervous, and a horrible fit of terror came over him. What if Alan Campbell should be out of England? Days would elapse before he could come back. Perhaps he might refuse to come. What could he do then? Every moment was of vital importance. They had been great friends once, five years before -almost inseparable, indeed. Then the intimacy had come suddenly to an end. When they met in society now, it was only Dorian Gray who smiled; Alan Campbell never did. He was an extremely clever young man, though he had no real appreciation of the visible arts, and whatever little sense of the beauty of poetry he possessed he had gained entirely from Dorian. His dominant intellectual passion was for science. At Cambridge he had spent a great deal of his time working in the Laboratory, and had taken a good class in the Natural Science Tripos of his year. Indeed, he was still devoted to the study of chemistry, and had a laboratory of his own, in which he used to shut himself up all day long, greatly to the annoyance of his mother, who had set her heart on his standing for Parliament, and had a vague idea that a chemist was a person who made up prescriptions. He was an excellent musician, however, as well, and played both the violin and the piano better than most amateurs. In fact, it was music that had first brought him and Dorian Gray together—music and that indefinable attraction that Dorian seemed to be able to exercise whenever he wished, and indeed exercised often without being conscious of it. They had met at Lady Berkshire’s the night that Rubinstein played there, and after that used to be always seen together at the Opera, and wherever good music was going on. For eighteen months their intimacy lasted. Campbell was always either at Selby Royal or in Grosvenor Square. To him, as to many others, Dorian Gray was the type of everything that is wonderful and fascinating in life. Whether or not a quarrel had taken place between them no one ever knew. But suddenly people remarked that they scarcely spoke when they met, and that Campbell seemed always to go away early from any party at which Dorian Gray was present. He had changed, too—was strangely melancholy at times, appeared almost to dislike hearing music, and would never himself play, giving as his excuse, when he was called upon, that he was so absorbed in science that he had no time left in which to practise. And this was certainly true. Every day he seemed to become more Interested in biology, and his name appeared once or twice in some of the scientific reviews, in connection with certain curious experiments. This was the man Dorian Gray was waiting for. Every second he kept glancing at the clock. As the minutes went by he became horribly agitated. At last he got up, and began to pace up and down the room, looking like a beautiful caged thing. He took long stealthy strides. His hands were curiously cold. The suspense became unbearable. Time seemed to him to be crawling with feet of lead, while he by monstrous winds was being swept towards the jagged edge of some black cleft of precipice. He knew what was waiting for him there; saw it indeed, and, shuddering, crushed with dank hands his burning lids as though he would have robbed the very brain of sight, and driven the eyeballs back into their cave. It was useless. The brain had its own food on which it battened, and the imagination, made grotesque by terror, twisted and distorted as a living thing by pain, danced like some foul puppet on a stand, and grinned through moving masks. Then, suddenly, Time stopped for him. Yes: that blind, slow breathing thing crawled no more, and horrible thoughts, Time being dead, raced nimbly on in front, and dragged a hideous future from its grave, and showed it to him. He stared at it. Its very horror made him stone. At last the door opened, and his servant entered. He turned glazed eyes upon him. “Mr. Campbell, sir,” said the man. A sigh of relief broke from his parched lips, and the colour came back to his checks. “Ask him to come in at once, Francis.” He felt that he was himself again. His mood of cowardice had passed away. The man bowed, and retired. In a few moments Alan Campbell walked in, looking very stern and rather pale, his pallor being intensified by his coal black hair and dark eyebrows. “Alan! this is kind of you. I thank you for coming.” “I had intended never to enter your house again, Gray. But you said it was a matter of life and death.” His voice was hard and cold. He spoke with slow deliberation. There was a look of contempt in the steady searching gaze that he turned on Dorian. He kept his hands in the pockets of his Astrakhan coat, and seemed not to have noticed the gesture with which he had been greeted. “Yes: it is a matter of life and death, Alan, and to more than one person. Sit down.” Campbell took a chair by the table, and Dorian sat opposite to him. The two men’s eyes met. In Dorian’s there was infinite pity. He knew that what he was going to do was dreadful. After a strained moment of silence, he leaned across and said, very quietly, but watching the effect of each word upon the face of him he had sent for, “Alan, in a locked room at the top of this house, a room to which nobody but myself has access, a dead man is seated at a table. He has been dead ten hours now. Don’t stir, and don’t look at me like that. Who the man is, why he died, how he died, are matters that do not concern you. What you have to do is this” “Stop, Gray. I don’t want to know anything further. Whether what you have told me is true or not true, doesn’t concern me. I entirely decline to be mixed up in your life. Keep your horrible secrets to yourself. They don’t interest me any more.” “Alan, they will have to interest you. This one will have to interest you. I am awfully sorry for you, Alan. But I can’t help myself. You are the one man who is able to save me. I am forced to bring you into the matter. I have no option. Alan, you are scientific. You know about chemistry, and things of that kind. You have made experiments. What you have got to do is to destroy the thing that is upstairs—to destroy it so that not a vestige of it will be left. Nobody saw this person come into the house. Indeed, at the present moment he is supposed to be in Paris. He will not be missed for months. When he is missed, there must be no trace of him found here. You, Alan, you must change him, and everything that belongs to him, into a handful of ashes that I may scatter in the air.” “You are mad, Dorian.” “Ah! I was waiting for you to call me Dorian.” “You are mad, I tell you—mad to imagine that would raise a finger to help you, mad to make this monstrous confession. I will have nothing to do with this matter, whatever it is. Do you think am going to peril my reputation for you? What is it to me what devil’s work you are up to?” “It was suicide, Alan.” “I am glad of that. But who drove him to it? You, I should fancy.” “Do you still refuse to do this for me?” “Of course I refuse. I will have absolutely nothing to do with it. I don’t care what shame comes on you. You deserve it all. I should not be sorry to see you disgraced, publicly disgraced. How dare you ask me, of all men in the world, to mix myself up in this horror? I should have thought you knew more about people’s characters. Your friend Lord Henry Wotton can’t have taught you much about psychology, whatever else he has taught you. Nothing will induce me to stir a step to help you. You have come to the wrong man. Go to some of your friends. Don’t come to me.” “Alan, it was murder. I killed him. You don’t know what he had made me suffer. Whatever my life is, he had more to do with the making or the marring of it than poor Harry has had. He may not have intended it, the result was the same.” “Murder! Good God, Dorian, is that what you have come to? I shall not inform upon you. It is not my business. Besides, without my stirring in the matter, you are certain to be arrested. Nobody ever commits a crime without doing something stupid. But I will have nothing to do with it.” “You must have something to do with it. Wait, wait a moment; listen to me. Only listen, Alan. All I ask of you is to perform a certain scientific experiment. You go to hospitals and dead-houses, and the horrors that you do there don’t affect you. If in some hideous dissecting-room or fetid laboratory you found this man lying on a leaden table with red gutters scooped out in it for the blood to flow through, you would simply look upon him as an admirable subject. You would not turn a hair. You would not believe that you were doing anything wrong. On the contrary, you would probably feel that you were benefiting the human race, or increasing the sum of knowledge in the world, or gratifying intellectual What I want curiosity, or something of that kind. you to do is merely what you have often done before. Indeed, to destroy a body must be far less horrible than what you are accustomed to work at. And, remember, it is the only piece of evidence against me. If it is discovered, I am lost; and it is sure to be discovered unless you help me.” “I have no desire to help you. You forget that. I am simply indifferent to the whole thing. It has nothing to do with me.” “Alan, I entreat you. Think of the position I am in. Just before you came I almost fainted with terror. You may know terror yourself some day. No! don’t think of that. Look at the matter purely from the scientific point of view. You don’t inquire where the dead things on which you experiment come from. Don’t inquire now. I have told you too much as it is. But I beg of you to do this. We were friends once, Alan.” “Don’t speak about those days, Dorian: they are dead.” “The dead linger sometimes. The man upstairs will not go away. He is sitting at the table with bowed head and outstretched arms. Alan! Alan if you don’t come to my assistance I am ruined. Why, they will hang me, Alan! Don’t you understand? They will hang me for what I have done.” “There is no good in prolonging this scene. I absolutely refuse to do anything in the matter. It is insane of you to ask me.” “You refuse?” “Yes.” “I entreat you, Alan.” “It is useless.” The same look of pity came into Dorian Gray’s eyes. Then he stretched out his hand, took a piece of paper, and wrote something on it. He read it over twice, folded it carefully, and pushed it across the table. Having done this, he got up, and went over to the window. Campbell looked at him in surprise, and then took up the paper, and opened it. As he read it, his face became ghastly pale, and he fell back in his chair. A horrible sense of sickness came over him. He felt as if his heart was beating itself to death in some empty hollow. After two or three minutes of terrible silence, Dorian turned round, and came and stood behind him, putting his hand upon his shoulder. “I am so sorry for you, Alan,” he murmured, “but you leave me no alternative. I have a letter written already. Here it is. You see the address. If you don’t help me, I must send it. If you don’t help me, I will send it. You know what the result will be. But you are going to help me. It is impossible for you to refuse now. I tried to spare you. You will do me the justice to admit that. You were stern, harsh, offensive. You treated me as no man has ever dared to treat me—no living man, at any rate. I bore it all. Now it is for me to dictate terms.” Campbell buried his face in his hands, and a shudder passed through him. “Yes, it is my turn to dictate terms, Alan. You know what they are. The thing is quite simple. Come, don’t work yourself into this fever. The thing has to be done. Face it, and do it.” A groan broke from Campbell’s lips, and he shivered all over. The ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece seemed to him to be dividing Time into separate atoms of agony, each of which was too terrible to be borne. He felt as if an iron ring was being slowly tightened round his forehead, as if the disgrace with which he was threatened had already come upon him. The hand upon his shoulder weighed like a hand of lead. It was intolerable. It seemed to crush him. “Come, Alan, you must decide at once.” “I cannot do it,” he said, mechanically, as though words could alter things. “You must. You have no choice. Don’t delay.” He hesitated a moment. “Is there a fire in the room upstairs?” “Yes, there is a gas-fire with asbestos.” “I shall have to go home and get some things from the laboratory.” “No, Alan, you must not leave the house. Write out on a sheet of note-paper what you want, and my servant will take a cab and bring the things back to you.” Campbell scrawled a few lines, blotted them, and addressed an envelope to his assistant. Dorian took the note up and read it carefully. Then he rang the bell, and gave it to his valet, with orders to return as soon as possible, and to bring the things with him. As the hall door shut, Campbell started nervously, and, having got up from the chair, went over to the chimney-piece. He was shivering with a kind of ague. For nearly twenty minutes, neither of the men spoke. A fly buzzed noisily about the room, and the ticking of the clock was like the beat of a hammer. As the chime struck one, Campbell turned round, and, looking at Dorian Gray, saw that his eyes were filled with tears. There was something in the purity and refinement of that sad face that seemed to enrage him. “You are infamous, absolutely infamous!” he muttered. “Hush, Alan: you have saved my life,” said Dorian. “Your life? Good heavens! what a life that is! You have gone from corruption to corruption, and now you have culminated in crime. In doing what I am going to do, what you force me to do, it is not of your life that I am thinking.” “Ah, Alan,” murmured Dorian, with a sigh, “I wish you had a thousandth part of the pity for me that I have for you.” He turned away as he spoke, and stood looking out at the garden. Campbell made no answer. After about ten minutes a knock came to the door, and the servant entered, carrying a large mahogany chest of chemicals, with a long coil of steel and platinum wire and two rather curiously-shaped iron clamps. “Shall I leave the things here, sir?” he asked Campbell. “Yes,” said Dorian. “And I am afraid, Francis, that I have another errand for you. What is the name of the man at Richmond who supplies Selby with orchids?” “Harden, sir.” “Yes—Harden. You must go down to Richmond at once, see Harden personally, and tell him to send twice as many orchids as I ordered, and to have as few white ones as possible. In fact, I don’t want any white ones. It is a lovely day, Francis, and Richmond is a very pretty place, otherwise I wouldn’t bother you about it.” “No trouble, sir. At what time shall I be back?” Dorian looked at Campbell. “How long will your experiment take, Alan?” he said, in a calm, indifferent voice. The presence of a third person in the room seemed to give him extraordinary courage. Campbell frowned, and bit his lip. “It will take about five hours,” he answered. “It will be time enough, then, if you are back at half-past seven, Francis. Or stay, just leave my things out for dressing. You can have the evening to yourself. I am not dining at home, so I shall not want you.” “Thank you, sir,” said the man, leaving the room. “Now, Alan, there is not a moment to be lost. How heavy this chest is! I’ll take it for you. You bring the other things.” He spoke rapidly, and in an authoritative manner. Campbell felt dominated by him. They left the room together. When they reached the top landing, Dorian took out the key and turned it in the lock. Then he stopped, and a troubled look came into his eyes. He shuddered. “I don’t think I can go in, Alan,” he murmured. “It is nothing to me. I don’t require you,” said Campbell, coldly. Dorian half opened the door. As he did so, he saw the face of his portrait leering in the sunlight. On the floor in front of it the torn curtain was lying. He remembered that the night before he had forgotten, for the first time in his life, to hide the fatal canvas, and was about to rush forward, when he drew back with a shudder. What was that loathsome red dew that gleamed, wet and glistening, on one of the hands, as though the canvas had sweated blood? How horrible it was! -more horrible, it seemed to him for the moment, than the silent thing that he knew was stretched across the table, the thing whose grotesque misshapen shadow on the spotted carpet showed him that it had not stirred, but was still there, as he had left it. He heaved a deep breath, opened the door a little wider, and with half-closed eyes and averted head walked quickly in, determined that he would not look even once upon the dead man. Then, stooping down, and taking up the gold and purple hanging, he flung it right over the picture. There he stopped, feeling afraid to turn round, and his eyes fixed themselves on the intricacies of the pattern before him. He heard Campbell bringing in the heavy chest, and the irons, and the other things that he had required for his dreadful work. He began to wonder if he and Basil Hallward had ever met, and, if so, what they had thought of each other. “ Leave me now,” said a stern voice behind him. He turned and hurried out, just conscious that the dead man had been thrust back into the chair, and that Campbell was gazing into a glistening yellow face. As he was going downstairs he heard the key being turned in the lock. It was long after seven when Campbell came back Into the library. He was pale, but absolutely calm. “I have done what you asked me to do,” he muttered. “And now, good-bye. Let us never see each other again.” “You have saved me from ruin, Alan. I cannot forget that,” said Dorian, simply. As soon as Campbell had left, he went upstairs. There was a horrible smell of nitric acid in the room. But the thing that had been sitting at the table was gone.
CHAPTER XV
That evening, at eight-thirty, exquisitely dressed and wearing a large buttonhole of Parma violets, Dorian Gray was ushered into Lady Narborough’s drawing-room by bowing servants. His forehead was throbbing with maddened nerves, and he felt wildly excited, but his manner as he bent over his hostess’s hand was as easy and graceful as ever. Perhaps one never seems so much at one’s ease as when one has to play a part. Certainly no one looking at Dorian Gray that night could have believed that he had passed through a tragedy as horrible as any tragedy of our age. Those finely-shaped fingers could never have clutched a knife for sin, nor those smiling lips have cried out on God and goodness. He himself could not help wondering at the calm of his demeanour, and for a moment felt keenly the terrible pleasure of a double life. It was a small party, got up rather in a hurry by Lady Narborough, who was a very clever woman, with what Lord Henry used to describe as the remains of really remarkable ugliness. She had proved an excellent wife to one of our most tedious ambassadors, and having buried her husband properly in a marble mausoleum, which she had herself designed, and married off her daughters to some rich, rather elderly men, she devoted herself now to the pleasures of French fiction, French cookery, and French esprit when she could get it. Dorian was one of her special favourites, and she always told him that she was extremely glad she had not met him in early life. “I know, my dear, I should have fallen madly in love with you,” she used to say, “and thrown my bonnet right over the mills for your sake. It is most fortunate that you were not thought of at the time. As it was, our bonnets were so unbecoming, and the mills were so occupied in trying to raise the wind, that I never had even a flirtation with anybody. However, that was all Narborough’s fault. He was dreadfully short-sighted, and there is no pleasure in taking in a husband who never sees anything.” Her guests this evening were rather tedious. The fact was, as she explained to Dorian, behind a very shabby fan, one of her married daughters had come up quite suddenly to stay with her, and, to make matters worse, had actually brought her husband with her. “I think it is most unkind of her, my dear,” she whispered. “Of course I go and stay with them every summer after I come from Homburg, but then an old woman like me must have fresh air sometimes, You don’t know and besides, I really wake them up. what an existence they lead down there. It is pure unadulterated country life. They get up early, because they have so much to do, and go to bed early because they have so little to think about. There has not been a scandal in the neighbourhood since the time of Queen Elizabeth, and consequently they all fall asleep after dinner. You shan’t sit next either of them. You shall sit by me, and amuse me.” Dorian murmured a graceful compliment, and looked round the room. Yes: it was certainly a tedious party. Two of the people he had never seen before, and the others consisted of Ernest Harrowden, one of those middle-aged mediocrities so common in London clubs who have no enemies, but are thoroughly disliked by their friends; Lady Ruxton, an overdressed woman of forty-seven, with a hooked nose, who was always trying to get herself compromised, but was so peculiarly plain that to her great disappointment no one would ever believe anything against her: Mrs. Erlynne, a pushing nobody, with a delightful lisp, and Venetian-red hair; Lady Alice Chapman, his hostess’s daughter, a dowdy dull girl, with one of those characteristic British faces, that, once seen, are never remembered; and her husband, a red-cheeked, white-whiskered creature who, like so many of his class, was under the impression that inordinate joviality can atone for an entire lack of ideas. He was rather sorry he had come, till Lady Narborough, looking at the great ormolu gilt clock that sprawled in gaudy curves on the mauve-draped mantelshelf, exclaimed: “How horrid of Henry Wotton to be so late! I sent round to him this morning on chance, and he promised faithfully not to disappoint me.” It was some consolation that Harry was to be there, and when the door opened and he heard his slow musical voice lending charm to some insincere apology, he ceased to feel bored. But at dinner he could not eat anything. Plate after plate went away untasted. Lady Narborough kept scolding him for what she called “an insult to poor Adolphe, who invented the menu specially for you,” and now and then Lord Henry looked across at him, wondering at his silence and abstracted manner. From time to time the butler filled his glass with champagne. He drank eagerly, and his thirst seemed to increase. “Dorian,” said Lord Henry, at last, as the chaud-froid was being handed round, “what is the matter with you to-night? You are quite out of sorts.” “I believe he is in love,” cried Lady Narborough, “and that he is afraid to tell me for fear I should be jealous. He is quite right. I certainly should.” “Dear Lady Narborough,” murmured Dorian, smiling, “I have not been in love for a whole week— not, in fact, since Madame de Ferrol left town.” “How you men can fall in love with that woman!” exclaimed the old lady. “I really cannot understand it.” “It is simply because she remembers you when you were a little girl, Lady Narborough,” said Lord Henry. “She is the one link between us and your short frocks.” “She does not remember my short frocks at all, Lord Henry. But I remember her very well at Vienna thirty years ago, and how décolletée she was then.” “She is still décolletée,” he answered, taking an olive in his long fingers; “and when she is in a very smart gown she looks like an édition de luxe of a bad French novel. She is really wonderful, and full of surprises. Her capacity for family affection is extraordinary. When her third husband died, her hair turned quite gold from grief.” “How can you, Harry!” cried Dorian. “It is a most romantic explanation,” laughed the hostess. “But her third husband, Lord Henry! You don’t mean to say Ferrol is the fourth.” “Certainly, Lady Narborough.” “I don’t believe a word of it.” “Well, ask Mr. Gray. He is one of her most intimate friends.” “Is it true, Mr. Gray?” “She assures me so, Lady Narborough,” said Dorian. “I asked her whether, like Marguerite de Navarre, she had their hearts embalmed and hung at her girdle. She told me she didn’t, because none of them had had any hearts at all.” “Four husbands! Upon my word that is trop de zèle.” “Trop d’audace, I tell her,” said Dorian. “Oh! she is audacious enough for anything, my dear. And what is Ferrol like? I don’t know him.” “The husbands of very beautiful women belong to the criminal classes,” said Lord Henry, sipping his wine. Lady Narborough hit him with her fan. “Lord Henry, I am not at all surprised that the world says that you are extremely wicked.” “But what world says that?” asked Lord Henry, elevating his eyebrows. “It can only be the next world. This world and I are on excellent terms.” “Everybody I know says you are very wicked,” cried the old lady, shaking her head. Lord Henry looked serious for some moments. “It is perfectly monstrous,” he said, at last, “the way people go about nowadays saying things against one behind one’s back that are absolutely and entirely true.” “Isn’t he incorrigible?” cried Dorian, leaning forward in his chair. “I hope so,” said his hostess, laughing. “But really if you all worship Madame de Ferrol in this ridiculous way, I shall have to marry again so as to be in the fashion.” “You will never marry again, Lady Narborough,” broke in Lord Henry. “You were far too happy. When a woman marries again it is because she detested her first husband. When a man marries again, it is because he adored his first wife. Women try their luck; men risk theirs.” “Narborough wasn’t perfect,” cried the old lady. “If he had been, you would not have loved him, my dear lady,” was the rejoinder. “Women love us for our defects. If we have enough of them they will forgive us everything, even our intellects. You will never ask me to dinner again, after saying this, I am afraid, Lady Narborough; but it is quite true.” “Of course it is true, Lord Henry. If we women did not love you for your defects, where would you all be? Not one of you would ever be married. You would be a set of unfortunate bachelors. Not, however, that that would alter you much. Nowadays all the married men live like bachelors, and all the bachelors like married men.” “Fin de siècle,” murmured Lord Henry. “Fin du globe,” answered his hostess. “I wish it were fin du globe,” said Dorian, with a sigh. “Life is a great disappointment.” “Ah, my dear,” cried Lady Narborough, putting on her gloves, “don’t tell me that you have exhausted Life. When a man says that one knows that Life has exhausted him. Lord Henry is very wicked, and I sometimes wish that I had been; but you are made to be good—you look so good. I must find you a nice wife. Lord Henry, don’t you think that Mr. Gray should get married?” “I am always telling him so, Lady Narborough,” said Lord Henry, with a bow. “Well, we must look out for a suitable match for him. I shall go through Debrett carefully to-night, and draw out a list of all the eligible young ladies.” “With their ages, Lady Narborough?” asked Dorian. “Of course, with their ages, slightly edited. But nothing must be done in a hurry. I want it to be what The Morning Post calls a suitable alliance, and I want you both to be happy.” “What nonsense people talk about happy marriages! exclaimed Lord Henry. A man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love her.” “Ah! what a cynic you are!” cried the old lady, pushing back her chair, and nodding to Lady Ruxton. “You must come and dine with me soon again. You are really an admirable tonic, much better than what Sir Andrew prescribes for me. You must tell me what people you would like to meet, though. I want it to be a delightful gathering.” “I like men who have a future, and women who have a past,” he answered. “Or do you think that would make it a petticoat party?” “I fear so,” she said, laughing, as she stood up. “A thousand pardons, my dear Lady Ruxton,” she added. “I didn’t see you hadn’t finished your cigarette.” “Never mind, Lady Narborough. I smoke a great deal too much. I am going to limit myself, for the future.” “Pray don’t, Lady Ruxton,” said Lord Henry. “Moderation is a fatal thing. Enough is as bad as a meal. More than enough is as good as a feast.” Lady Ruxton glanced at him curiously. “You must come and explain that to me some afternoon, Lord Henry. It sounds a fascinating theory,” she murmured, as she swept out of the room. “Now, mind you don’t stay too long over your politics and scandal,” cried Lady Narborough from the door. “If you do, we are sure to squabble upstairs.” The men laughed, and Mr. Chapman got up solemnly from the foot of the table and came up to the top. Dorian Gray changed his seat, and went and sat by Lord Henry. Mr. Chapman began to talk in a loud voice about the situation in the House of Commons. He guffawed at his adversaries. The word doctrinaire —word full of terror to the British mind—reappeared from time to time between his explosions. An alliterative prefix served as an ornament of oratory. He hoisted the Union Jack on the pinnacles of Thought. The inherited stupidity of the race—sound English common sense he jovially termed it—was shown to be the proper bulwark for Society. A smile curved Lord Henry’s lips, and he turned round and looked at Dorian. “Are you better, my dear fellow?” he asked. “You seemed rather out of sorts at dinner.” “I am quite well, Harry. I am tired. That is all.” “You were charming last night. The little Duchess is quite devoted to you. She tells me she is going down to Selby.” “She has promised to come on the twentieth.” “Is Monmouth to be there too?” “Oh, yes, Harry.” “He bores me dreadfully, almost as much as he bores her. She is very clever, too clever for a woman. She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness. It is the feet of clay that makes the gold of the image precious. Her feet are very pretty, but they are not feet of clay. White porcelain feet, if you like. They have been through the fire, and what fire does not destroy, it hardens. She has had experiences.” “How long has she been married?” asked Dorian. “An eternity, she tells me. I believe, according to the peerage, it is ten years, but ten years with Monmouth must have been like eternity, with time thrown in. Who else is coming?” “Oh, the Willough boys, Lord Rugby and his wife, our hostess, Geoffrey Clouston, the usual set. I have asked Lord Grotrian.” “I like him,” said Lord Henry. “A great many people don’t, but I find him charming. He atones for being occasionally somewhat over-dressed, by being always absolutely over-educated. He is a very modern type.” “I don’t know if he will be able to come, Harry. He may have to go to Monte Carlo with his father.” “Ah! what a nuisance people’s people are! Try and make him come. By the way, Dorian, you ran off very early last night. You left before eleven. What did you do afterwards? Did you go straight home?” Dorian glanced at him hurriedly, and frowned. “No, Harry,” he said at last, “I did not get home till nearly three.” “Did you go to the club?” “Yes,” he answered. Then he bit his lip. “No, I don’t mean that. I didn’t go to the club. I walked about. I forget what I did…. How inquisitive you are, Harry! You always want to know what one has been doing. I always want to forget what I have been doing. I came in at half-past two, if you wish to know the exact time. I had left my latch-key at home, and my servant had to let me in. If you want any corroborative evidence on the subject you can ask him.” Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. “My dear fellow, as if I cared! Let us go up to the drawing room. No sherry, thank you, Mr. Chapman. Something has happened to you, Dorian. Tell me what it is. You are not yourself to-night.” “Don’t mind me, Harry. I am irritable, and out of temper. I shall come round and see you to-morrow or next day. Make my excuses to Lady Narborough. I shan’t go upstairs. I shall go home. I must go home.” “All right, Dorian. I daresay I shall see you tomorrow at tea-time. The Duchess is coming” “I will try to be there, Harry,” he said, leaving the room. As he drove back to his own house he was conscious that the sense of terror he thought he had strangled had come back to him. Lord Henry’s casual questioning had made him lose his nerves for the moment, and he wanted his nerve still. Things that were dangerous had to be destroyed. He winced. He hated the idea of even touching them. Yet it had to be done. He realised that, and when he had locked the door of his library, he opened the secret press into which he had thrust Basil Hallward’s coat and bag. A huge fire was blazing. He piled another log on it. The smell of the singeing clothes and burning leather was horrible. It took him three-quarters of an hour to consume everything. At the end he felt faint and sick, and having lit some Algerian pastilles in a pierced copper brazier, he bathed his hands and forehead with a cool musk-scented vinegar. Suddenly he started. His eyes grew strangely bright, and he gnawed nervously at his under-lip. Between two of the windows stood a large Florentine cabinet, made out of ebony, and inlaid with ivory and blue lapis. He watched it as though it were a thing that could fascinate and make afraid, as though it held something that he longed for and yet almost loathed. His breath quickened. A mad craving came over him. He lit a cigarette and then threw it away. His eyelids drooped till the long fringed lashes almost touched his cheek. But he still watched the cabinet. At last he got up from the sofa on which he had been lying, went over to it, and, having unlocked it, touched some hidden spring. A triangular drawer passed slowly out. His fingers moved instinctively towards it, dipped in, and closed on something. It was a small Chinese box of black and gold-dust lacquer, elaborately wrought, the sides patterned with curved waves, and the silken cords hung with round crystals and tasselled in plaited metal threads. He opened it. Inside was a green paste, waxy in lustre, the odour curiously heavy and persistent. He hesitated for some moments, with a strangely immobile smile upon his face. Then shivering, though the atmosphere of the room was terribly hot, he drew himself up, and glanced at the clock. It was twenty minutes to twelve. He put the box back, shutting the cabinet doors as he did so, and went into his bedroom. As midnight was striking bronze blows upon the dusky air, Dorian Gray dressed commonly, and with a muffler wrapped round his throat, erept quietly out of the house. In Bond Street he found a hansom with a good horse. He hailed it, and in a low voice gave the driver an address. The man shook his head. “It is too far for me,” he muttered. “Here is a sovereign for you,” said Dorian. “You shall have another if you drive fast.” “All right, sir,” answered the man, “you will be there in an hour,” and after his fare had got in he turned his horse round, and drove rapidly towards the river.
CHAPTER XVI
A cold rain began to fall, and the blurred streetlamps looked ghastly in the dripping mist. The public-houses were just closing, and dim men and women were clustering in broken groups round their doors. From some of the bars came the sound of horrible laughter. In others, drunkards brawled and screamed. Lying back in the hansom, with his hat pulled over his forehead, Dorian Gray watched with listless eyes the sordid shame of the great city, and now and then he repeated to himself the words that Lord Henry had said to him on the first day they had met, “To cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of the soul.” Yes, that was the secret. He had often tried it, and would try it again now. There were opium-dens, where one could buy oblivion, dens of horror where the memory of old sins could be destroyed by the madness of sins that were new. The moon hung low in the sky like a yellow skull. From time to time a huge misshapen cloud stretched a long arm across and hid it. The gas-lamps grew fewer, and the streets more narrow and gloomy. Once the man lost his way, and had to drive back half a mile. A steam rose from the horse as it splashed up the puddles. The side-windows of the hansom were clogged with a grey-flannel mist. “To cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of the soul!” How the words rang in his ears! His soul, certainly, was sick to death. Was it true that the senses could cure it? Innocent blood had been spilt. What could atone for that? Ah! for that there was no atonement; but though forgiveness was impossible, forgetfulness was possible still, and he was determined to forget, to stamp the thing out, to crush it as one would crush the adder that had stung one. Indeed, what right had Basil to have spoken to him as he had done? Who had made him a judge over others? He had said things that were dreadful, horrible, not to be endured. On and on plodded the hansom, going slower, it seemed to him, at each step. He thrust up the trap, and called to the man to drive faster. The hideous hunger for opium began to gnaw at him. His throat burned, and his delicate hands twitched nervously together. He struck at the horse madly with his stick. The driver laughed, and whipped up. He laughed in answer, and the man was silent. The way seemed interminable, and the streets like the black web of some sprawling spider. The monotony became unbearable, and, as the mist thickened, he felt afraid. Then they passed by lonely brickfields. The fog was lighter here, and he could see the strange bottle shaped kilns with their orange fan-like tongues of fire. A dog barked as they went by, and far away in the darkness some wandering sea-gull screamed. The horse stumbled in a rut, then swerved aside, and broke into a gallop. After some time they left the clay road, and rattled again over rough-paven streets. Most of the windows were dark, but now and then fantastic shadows were silhouetted against some lamp-lit blind. He watched them curiously. They moved like monstrous marionettes, and made gestures like live things. He hated them. A dull rage was in his heart. As they turned a corner a woman yelled something at them from an open door, and two men ran after the hansom for about a hundred yards. The driver beat at them with his whip. It is said that passion makes one think in a circle. Certainly with hideous iteration the bitten lips of Dorian Gray shaped and reshaped those subtle words that dealt with soul and sense, till he had found in them the full expression, as it were, of his mood, and justified, by intellectual approval, passions that without such justification would still have dominated his temper. From cell to cell of his brain crept the one thought; and the wild desire to live, most terrible of all man’s appetites, quickened into force each trembling nerve and fibre. Ugliness that had once been hateful to him because it made things real, became dear to him now for that very reason. Ugliness was the one reality. The coarse brawl, the loathsome den, the crude violence of disordered life, the very vileness of thief and outcast, were more vivid, in their intense actuality of impression, than all the gracious shapes of Art, the dreamy shadows of Song. They were what he needed for forgetfulness. In three days he would be free. Suddenly the man drew up with a jerk at the top of a dark lane. Over the low roofs and jagged chimney stacks of the houses rose the black masts of ships. Wreaths of white mist clung like ghostly sails to the yards. “Somewhere about here, sir, ain’t it?” he asked huskily through the trap. Dorian started, and peered round. “This will do,” he answered, and, having got out hastily, and given the driver the extra fare he had promised him, he walked quickly in the direction of the quay. Here and there a lantern gleamed at the stern of some huge merchantman. The light shook and splintered in the puddles. A red glare came from an outward-bound steamer that was coaling. The slimy pavement looked like a wet mackintosh. He hurried on towards the left, glancing back now and then to see if he was being followed. In about seven or eight minutes he reached a small shabby house, that was wedged in between two gaunt factories. In one of the top-windows stood a lamp. He stopped, and gave a peculiar knock. After a little time he heard steps in the passage, and the chain being unhooked. The door opened quietly, and he went in without saying a word to the squat misshapen figure that flattened itself into the shadow as he passed. At the end of the hall hung a tattered green curtain that swayed and shook in the gusty wind which had followed him in from the street. He dragged it aside, and entered a long, low room which looked as if it had once been a third-rate dancing-saloon. Shrill flaring gas-jets, dulled and distorted in the fly-blown mirrors that faced them, were ranged round the walls. Greasy reflectors of ribbed tin backed them, making quivering discs of light. The floor was covered with ochre-coloured sawdust, trampled here and there into mud, and stained with dark rings of spilt liquor. Some Malays were crouching by a little charcoal stove playing with bone counters, and showing their white teeth as they chattered. In one corner, with his head buried in his arms, a sailor sprawled over a table, and by the tawdrily-painted bar that ran across one complete side stood two haggard women mocking an old man who was brushing the sleeves of his coat with an expression of disgust. He thinks he’s got red ants on him,” laughed one of them, as Dorian passed by. The man looked at her in terror and began to whimper. At the end of the room there was a little staircase, leading to a darkened chamber. As Dorian hurried up its three rickety steps, the heavy odour of opium met him. He heaved a deep breath, and his nostrils quivered with pleasure. When he entered, a young man with smooth yellow hair, who was bending over a lamp, lighting a long thin pipe, looked up at him, and nodded in a hesitating manner. “You here, Adrian?” muttered Dorian. “Where else should I be?” he answered, listlessly. “None of the chaps will speak to me now.” “I thought you had left England.” “Darlington is not going to do anything. My brother paid the bill at last. George doesn’t speak to me either…. I don’t care,” he added, with a sigh. “As long as one has this stuff, one doesn’t want friends. I think I have had too many friends.” Dorian winced, and looked round at the grotesque things that lay in such fantastic postures on the ragged mattresses. The twisted limbs, the gaping mouths, the staring lustreless eyes, fascinated him. He knew in what strange heavens they were suffering, and what dull hells were teaching them the secret of some new joy. They were better off than he was. He was prisoned in thought. Memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away. From time to time he seemed to see the eyes of Basil Hallward looking at him. Yet he felt he could not The presence of Adrian Singleton troubled stay. him. He wanted to be where no one would know who he was. He wanted to escape from himself. “I am going on to the other place,” he said, after a pause. “On the wharf?” “Yes.” “That mad-cat is sure to be there. They won’t have her in this place now.” Dorian shrugged his shoulders. “I am sick of women who love one. Women who hate one are much more interesting. Besides, the stuff is better.” “Much the same.” “I like it better. Come and have something to drink. I must have something.” “I don’t want anything,” murmured the young man. “Never mind.” Adrian Singleton rose up wearily, and followed Dorian to the bar. A half-caste, in a ragged turban and a shabby ulster, grinned a hideous greeting as he thrust a bottle of brandy and two tumblers in front of them. The women sidled up, and began to chatter. Dorian turned his back on them, and said something in a low voice to Adrian Singleton. A crooked smile, like a Malay crease, writhed across the face of one of the women. “We are very proud to-night,” she sneered. “For God’s sake don’t talk to me,” cried Dorian, stamping his foot on the ground. “What do you want? Money? Here it is. Don’t ever talk to me again.” Two red sparks flashed for a moment in the woman’s sodden eyes, then flickered out, and left them dull and glazed. She tossed her head, and raked the coins off the counter with greedy fingers. Her companion watched her enviously. “It’s no use,” sighed Adrian Singleton. “I don’t care to go back. What does it matter? I am quite happy here.” “You will write to me if you want anything, won’t you?” said Dorian, after a pause. “Perhaps.” “Good-night, then.” “Good-night,” answered the young man, passing up the steps, and wiping his parched mouth with a handkerchief. Dorian walked to the door with a look of pain in his face. As he drew the curtain aside a hideous laugh broke from the painted lips of the woman “There goes the devil’s who had taken his money. bargain!” she hiccoughed, in a hoarse voice. “Curse you!” he answered, “don’t call me that.” She snapped her fingers. “Prince Charming is what you like to be called, ain’t it?” she yelled after him. The drowsy sailor leapt to his feet as she spoke, and looked wildly round. The sound of the shutting of the hall door fell on his ear. He rushed out as if in pursuit. Dorian Gray hurried along the quay through the drizzling rain. His meeting with Adrian Singleton had strangely moved him, and he wondered if the ruin of that young life was really to be laid at his door, as Basil Hallward had said to him with such infamy of insult. He bit his lip, and for a few seconds his eyes grew sad. Yet, after all, what did it matter to him? One’s days were too brief to take the burden of another’s errors on one’s shoulders. Each man lived his own life, and paid his own price for living it. The only pity was one had to pay so often for a single fault. One had to pay over and over again, indeed. In her dealings with man Destiny never closed her accounts. There are moments, psychologists tell us, when the passion for sin, or for what the world calls sin, so dominates a nature, that every fibre of the body, as every cell of the brain, seems to be instinct with fearful impulses. Men and women at such moments lose the freedom of their will. They move to their terrible end as automatons move, Choice is taken from them, and conscience is either killed, or, if it lives at all, lives but to give rebellion its fascination, and disobedience its charm. For all sins, as theologians weary not of reminding us, are sins of disobedience. When that high spirit, that morning-star of evil, fell from heaven, it was as a rebel that he fell. Callous, concentrated on evil, with stained mind, and soul hungry for rebellion, Dorian Gray hastened on, quickening his step as he went, but as he darted aside into a dim archway, that had served him often as a short cut to the ill-famed place where he was going, he felt himself suddenly seized from behind, and before he had time to defend himself he was thrust back against the wall, with a brutal hand round his throat. He struggled madly for life, and by a terrible effort wrenched the tightening fingers away. In a second he heard the click of a revolver, and saw the gleam of a polished barrel pointing straight at his head, and the dusky form of a short thick-set man facing him. “What do you want? “ he gasped. “Keep quiet,” said the man. “If you stir, I shoot you.” “You are mad. What have I done to you?” “You wrecked the life of Sibyl Vane,” was the answer, “and Sibyl Vane was my sister. She killed herself. I know it. Her death is at your door. I swore I would kill you in return. For years I have sought you. I had no clue, no trace. The two people who could have described you were dead. I knew nothing of you but the pet name she used to call you. I heard it to-night by chance. Make your peace with God, for to-night you are going to die.” Dorian Gray grew sick with fear. “I never knew her,” he stammered. “I never heard of her. You are mad.” “You had better confess your sin, for as sure as I am James Vane, you are going to die.” There was a horrible moment. Dorian did not know what to say or do. “Down on your knees!” growled man. “I give you one minute to make your peace—no more. I go on board to-night for India, and I must do my job first. One minute. That’s all.” Dorian’s arms fell to his side. Paralysed with terror, he did not know what to do. Suddenly a wild hope flashed across his brain. “Stop,” he cried. “How long ago is it since your sister died? Quick, tell me!” “Eighteen years,” said the man. “Why do you ask me? What do years matter?” “Eighteen years,” laughed Dorian Gray, with a touch of triumph in his voice. “Eighteen years! Set me under the lamp and look at my face!” James Vane hesitated for a moment, not understanding what was meant. Then he seized Dorian Gray and dragged him from the archway. Dim and wavering as was the wind-blown light, yet it served to show him the hideous error, as it seemed, into which he had fallen, for the face of the man he had sought to kill had all the bloom of boyhood, all the untamed purity of youth. He seemed little more than a lad of twenty summers, hardly older, if older indeed at all, than his sister had been when they had parted so many years ago. It was obvious that this was not the man who had destroyed her life. He loosened his hold and reeled back. “My God! my God!” he cried, “and I would have murdered you!” Dorian Gray drew a long breath. “You have been on the brink of committing a terrible crime, my man,” he said, looking at him sternly. “Let this be a warning to you not to take vengeance into your own hands.” “Forgive me, sir,” muttered James Vane. “I was deceived. A chance word I heard in that damned den set me on the wrong track.” “You had better go home, and put that pistol away, or you may get into trouble,” said Dorian, turning on his heel, and going slowly down the street. James Vane stood on the pavement in horror. He was trembling from head to foot. After a little while a black shadow that had been creeping along the dripping wall, moved out into the light and came close to him with stealthy footsteps. He felt a hand laid on his arm and looked round with a start. It was one of the women who had been drinking at the bar. “Why didn’t you kill him?” she hissed out, putting her haggard face quite close to his. “I knew you were following him when you rushed out from Daly’s. You fool You should have killed him. He has lots of money, and he’s as bad as bad.” “He is not the man I am looking for,” he answered, “and I want no man’s money. I want a man’s life. The man whose life I want must be nearly forty now. This one is little more than a boy. Thank God, I have not got his blood upon my hands.” The woman gave a bitter laugh. “Little more than a boy!” she sneered. “Why, man, it’s nigh on eighteen years since Prince Charming made me what I am.” “You lie!” cried James Vane. She raised her hand up to heaven. “Before God I am telling the truth,” she cried. “Before God?” “Strike me dumb if it ain’t so. He is the worst one that comes here. They say he has sold himself to the devil for a pretty face. It’s nigh on eighteen years since I met him. He hasn’t changed much since then. I have though,” she added, with a sickly leer. “You swear this? “I swear it,” came in hoarse echo from her flat mouth. “But don’t give me away to him,” she whined; “I am afraid of him. Let me have some money for my night’s lodging.” He broke from her with an oath, and rushed to the corner of the street, but Dorian Gray had disappeared. When he looked back, the woman had vanished also.
CHAPTER XVII
A week later Dorian Gray was sitting in the conservatory at Selby Royal talking to the pretty Duchess of Monmouth, who with her husband, a jaded-looking man of sixty, was amongst his guests. It was tea-time, and the mellow light of the huge lace-covered lamp that stood on the table lit up the delicate china and hammered silver of the service at which the Duchess was presiding. Her white hands were moving daintily among the cups, and her full red lips were smiling at something that Dorian had whispered to her. Lord Henry was lying back in a silk-draped wicker chair looking at them. On a peach-coloured divan sat Lady Narborough pretending to listen to the Duke’s description of the last Brazilian beetle that he had added to his collection. Three young men in elaborate smoking-suits were handing tea-cakes to some of the women. The house party consisted of twelve people, and there were more expected to arrive on the next day. “What are you two talking about?” said Lord Henry, strolling over to the table, and putting his cup down. “I hope Dorian has told you about my plan for rechristening everything, Gladys. It Is a delightful idea.” “But I don’t want to be rechristened, Harry,” rejoined the Duchess, looking up at him with her wonderful eyes. “I am quite satisfied with my own name, and I am sure Mr. Gray should be satisfied with his.” “My dear Gladys, I would not alter either name for the world. They are both perfect. I was thinking chiefly of flowers. Yesterday I cut an orchid, for my buttonhole. It was a marvellous spotted thing, as effective as the seven deadly sins. In a thoughtless moment I asked one of the gardeners what it was called. He told me it was a fine specimen of Robinsoniana, or something dreadful of that kind. It is a sad truth, but we have lost the faculty of giving lovely I never names to things. Names are everything. quarrel with actions. My one quarrel is with words. That is the reason I hate vulgar realism in literature. The man who could call a spade a spade should be compelled to use one. It is the only thing he is fit for.” “Then what should we call you, Harry?” she asked. “His name is Prince Paradox,” said Dorian. “I recognise him in a flash,” exclaimed the Duchess. “I won’t hear of it,” laughed Lord Henry, sinking into a chair. “From a label there is no escape! I refuse the title. Royalties may not abdicate,” fell as a warning from pretty lips. “You wish me to defend my throne, then? “ “Yes.” “I give the truths of to-morrow.” “I prefer the mistakes of to-day,” she answered. “You disarm me, Gladys,” he cried, catching the wilfulness of her mood. “Of your shield, Harry: not of your spear.” “I never tilt against Beauty,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “That is your error, Harry, believe me. You value beauty far too much.” “How can you say that? I admit that I think that it is better to be beautiful than to be good. But on the other hand no one is more ready than I am to acknowledge that it is better to be good than to be ugly.” “Ugliness is one of the seven deadly sins, then?” cried the Duchess. “What becomes of your simile about the orchid?” “Ugliness is one of the seven deadly virtues, Gladys. You, as a good Tory, must not underrate them. Beer, the Bible, and the seven deadly virtues have made our England what she is.” “You don’t like your country, then?” she asked. “I live in it.” “That you may censure it the better.” “Would you have me take the verdict of Europe on it?” he inquired. “What do they say of us?” “That Tartuffe has emigrated to England and opened a shop.” “Is that yours, Harry? “ I give it to you.” “I could not use it. It is too true.” “You need not be afraid. Our countrymen never recognise a description.” “They are practical.” “They are more cunning than practical. When they make up their ledger, they balance stupidity by wealth, and vice by hypocrisy” “Still, we have done great things.” “Great things have been thrust on us, Gladys.” “We have carried their burden.” “Only as far as the Stock Exchange.” She shook her head. “I believe in the race,” she cried. “It represents the survival of the pushing.” “It has development.” “Decay fascinates me more.” “What of Art?” she asked. “It is a malady.” “Love?” “An illusion.” “Religion?” “The fashionable substitute for Belief.” “You are a sceptic.” “Never! Scepticism is the beginning of Faith.” “What are you?” “To define is to limit.” “Give me a clue.” “Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth.” “You bewilder me. Let us talk of someone else.” “Our host is a delightful topic. Years ago he was christened Prince Charming.” “Ah! don’t remind me of that,” cried Dorian Gray. “Our host is rather horrid this evening,” answered the Duchess, colouring. “I believe he thinks that Monmouth married me on purely scientific principles as the best specimen he could find of a modern butterfly.” “Well, I hope he won’t stick pins into you, Duchess,” laughed Dorian. “Oh! my maid does that already, Mr. Gray, when she is annoyed with me.” “And what does she get annoyed with you about, Duchess?” “For the most trivial things, Mr. Gray, I assure you. Usually because I come in at ten minutes to nine and tell her that I must be dressed by half-past eight.” “How unreasonable of her! You should give her warning.” “I daren’t, Mr. Gray. Why, she invents hats for me. You remember the one I wore at Lady Hilstone’s garden-party? You don’t, but it is nice of you to pretend that you do. Well, she made it out of nothing. All good hats are made out of nothing.” “Like all good reputations, Gladys,” interrupted Lord Henry. “Every effect that one produces gives one an enemy. To be popular one must be a mediocrity.” “Not with women,” said the Duchess, shaking I assure “and women rule the world. her head; you we can’t bear mediocrities. We women, as someone says, love with our ears, just as you men love with your eyes, if you ever love at all.” “It seems to me that we never do anything else,” murmured Dorian. “Ah! then, you never really love, Mr. Gray,” answered the Duchess, with mock sadness. “My dear Gladys!” cried Lord Henry. “How can you say that? Romance lives by repetition, and repetition converts an appetite into an art. Besides, each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved. Difference of object does not alter singleness of passion. It merely intensifies it. We can have In life but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible.” “Even when one has been wounded by it, Harry?” asked the Duchess, after a pause. “Especially when one has been wounded by it,” answered Lord Henry. The Duchess turned and looked at Dorian Gray with a curious expression in her eyes. “What do you say to that, Mr. Gray?” she inquired. Dorian hesitated for a moment. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “I always agree with Harry, Duchess.” “Even when he is wrong?” “Harry is never wrong, Duchess.” “And does his philosophy make you happy?” “I have never searched for happiness. Who wants happiness? I have searched for pleasure.” “And found it, Mr. Gray?” “Often. Too often.” The Duchess sighed. “I am searching for peace,” she said, “and if I don’t go and dress, I shall have none this evening.” “Let me get you some orchids, Duchess,” cried Dorian, starting to his feet, and walking down the conservatory. “You are flirting disgracefully with him,” said Lord Henry to his cousin. “You had better take care. He is very fascinating.” “If he were not, there would be no battle.” “Greek meets Greek, then?” “I am on the side of the Trojans. They fought for a woman.” “They were defeated.” “There are worse things than capture,” she answered. “You gallop with a loose rein.” “Pace gives life,” was the riposte. “I shall write it in my diary to-night.” “What?” “That a burnt child loves the fire.” “I am not even singed. My wings are untouched.” “You use them for everything, except flight.” “Courage has passed from men to women. It is a new experience for us.” “You have a rival.” “Who?” He laughed. “Lady Narborough,” he whispered. “She perfectly adores him.” “You fill me with apprehension. The appeal to Antiquity is fatal to us who are romanticists.” “Romanticists! You have all the methods of science.” “Men have educated us.” “But not explained you.” “Describe us as a sex,” was her challenge. “Sphynxes without secrets.” She looked at him, smiling. “How long Mr. Gray is!” she said. “Let us go and help him. I have not yet told him the colour of my frock.” “Ah! you must suit your frock to his flowers, Gladys.” “That would be a premature surrender.” “Romantic Art begins with its climax.” “I must keep an opportunity for retreat.” “In the Parthian manner?” “They found safety in the desert. I could not do that.” “Women are not always allowed a choice,” he answered, but hardly had he finished the sentence before from the far end of the conservatory came a stifled groan, followed by the dull sound of a heavy fall. Everybody started up. The Duchess stood motionless in horror. And with fear in his eyes Lord Henry rushed through the flapping palms to find Dorian Gray lying face downwards on the tiled floor in a death-like swoon. He was carried at once into the blue drawing-room, and laid upon one of the sofas. After a short time he came to himself, and looked round with a dazed expression. “What has happened?” he asked. “Oh! I remember. Am I safe here, Harry?” He began to tremble. “My dear Dorian,” answered Lord Henry, “you merely fainted. That was all. You must have overtired yourself. You had better not come down to dinner. I will take your place.” “No, I will come down,” he said, struggling to his feet. “I would rather come down. I must not be alone.” He went to his room and dressed. There was a wild recklessness of gaiety in his manner as he sat at table, but now and then a thrill of terror ran through him when he remembered that, pressed against the window of the conservatory, like a white handkerchief, he had seen the face of James Vane watching him.
CHAPTER XVIII
The next day he did not leave the house, and, indeed, spent most of the time in his own room, sick with a wild terror of dying, and yet indifferent to life itself. The consciousness of being hunted, snared, tracked down, had begun to dominate him. If the tapestry did but tremble in the wind, he shook. The dead leaves that were blown against the leaded panes seemed to him like his own wasted resolutions and wild regrets. When he closed his eyes, he saw again the sailor’s face peering through the mist-stained glass, and horror seemed once more to lay its hand upon his heart. But perhaps it had been only his fancy that had called vengeance out of the night, and set the hideous shapes of punishment before him. Actual life was chaos, but there was something terribly logical in the imagination. It was the imagination that set remorse to dog the feet of sin. It was the imagination that made each crime bear its misshapen brood. In the common world of fact the wicked were not punished, nor the good rewarded. Success was given to the strong, failure thrust upon the weak. That was all. Besides, had any stranger been prowling round the house he would have been seen by the servants or the keepers. Had any footmarks been found on the flower-beds, the gardeners would have reported it. Yes: it had been merely fancy. Sibyl Vane’s brother had not come back to kill him. He had sailed away in his ship to founder in some winter sea. From him, at any rate, he was safe. Why, the man did not know who he was, could not know who he was. The mask of youth had saved him. And yet if it had been merely an illusion, how terrible it was to think that conscience could raise such fearful phantoms, and give them visible form, and make them move before one! What sort of life would his be, if day and night, shadows of his crime were to peer at him from silent corners, to mock him from secret places, to whisper in his ear as he sat at the feast, to wake him with icy fingers as he lay asleep! As the thought crept through his brain, he grew pale with terror, and the air seemed to him to have become suddenly colder. Oh! in what a wild hour of madness he had killed his friend! How ghastly the mere memory of the scene! He saw it all again. Each hideous detail came back to him with added horror. Out of the black cave of Time, terrible and swathed in scarlet, rose the image of his sin. When Lord Henry came in at six o’clock, he found him crying as one whose heart will break. It was not till the third day that he ventured to go out. There was something in the clear, pine-scented air of that winter morning that seemed to bring him back his joyousness and his ardour for life. But it was not merely the physical conditions of environment that had caused the change. His own nature had revolted against the excess of anguish that had sought to maim and mar the perfection of its calm. With subtle and finely-wrought temperaments it is always so. Their strong passions must either bruise or bend. They either slay the man, or themselves die. Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude. Besides, he had convinced himself that he had been the victim of a terror-stricken imagination, and looked back now on his fears with something of pity and not a little of contempt. After breakfast he walked with the Duchess for an hour in the garden, and then drove across the park to join the shooting-party. The crisp frost lay like salt upon the grass. The sky was an inverted cup of blue metal. A thin film of ice bordered the flat reed-grown lake. At the corner of the pine-wood he caught sight of Sir Geoffrey Clouston, the Duchess’s brother, jerking two spent cartridges out of his gun. He jumped from the cart, and having told the groom to take the mare home, made his way towards his guest through the withered bracken and rough undergrowth. “Have you had good sport, Geoffrey?” he asked. “Not very good, Dorian. I think most of the birds have gone to the open. I dare say it will be better after lunch, when we get to new ground.” Dorian strolled along by his side. The keen aromatic air, the brown and red lights that glimmered in the wood, the hoarse cries of the beaters ringing out from time to time, and the sharp snaps of the guns that followed, fascinated him, and filled him with a sense of delightful freedom. He was dominated by the carelessness of happiness, by the high indifference of joy. Suddenly from a lumpy tussock of old grass, some twenty yards in front of them, with black-tipped ears erect, and long hinder limbs throwing it forward, started a hare. It bolted for a thicket of alders. Sir Geoffrey put his gun to his shoulder, but there was something in the animal’s grace of movement that strangely charmed Dorian Gray, and he cried out at once, “Don’t shoot it, Geoffrey. Let it live.” “What nonsense, Dorian!” laughed his companion, and as the hare bounded into the thicket he fired. There were two cries heard, the cry of a hare in pain, which is dreadful, the cry of a man in agony, which is worse. “Good heavens! I have hit a beater!” exclaimed Sir Geoffrey. “What an ass the man was to get in front of the guns! Stop shooting there!” he called out at the top of his voice. “A man is hurt.” The head-keeper came running up with a stick in his hand. “Where, sir? Where is he?” he shouted. At the same time the firing ceased along the line. “Here,” answered Sir Geoffrey, angrily, hurrying towards the thicket. “Why on earth don’t you keep your men back? Spoiled my shooting for the day.” Dorian watched them as they plunged into the alder clump, brushing the lithe, swinging branches aside. In a few moments they emerged, dragging a body after them into the sunlight. He turned away in horror. It seemed to him that misfortune followed wherever he went. He heard Sir Geoffrey ask if the man was really dead, and the affirmative answer of the keeper. The wood seemed to him to have become suddenly alive with faces. There was the trampling of myriad feet, and the low buzz of voices. A great copper-breasted pheasant came beating through the boughs overhead. After a few moments, that were to him, in his perturbed state, like endless hours of pain, he felt a hand laid on his shoulder. He started, and looked round. “Dorian,” said Lord Henry, “I had better tell them that the shooting is stopped for to-day. It would not look well to go on.” “I wish it were stopped for ever, Harry,” he answered, bitterly. “The whole thing is hideous and cruel. Is the man…?” He could not finish the sentence. “I am afraid so,” rejoined Lord Henry. “He got the whole charge of shot in his chest. He must have died almost instantaneously. Come; let us go home.” They walked side by side in the direction of the avenue for nearly fifty yards without speaking. Then Dorian looked at Lord Henry, and said, with a heavy sigh, “It is a bad omen, Harry, a very bad omen.” “What is?” asked Lord Henry. “Oh this accident, I suppose. My dear fellow, it can’t be helped. It was the man’s own fault. Why did he get in front of the guns? Besides, it’s nothing to us. It is rather awkward for Geoffrey, of course. It does not do to pepper beaters. It makes people think that one is a wild shot. And Geoffrey is not; he shoots very straight. But there is no use talking about the matter.” Dorian shook his head. “It is a bad omen, Harry. I feel as if something horrible were going to happen to some of us. To myself, perhaps,” he added, passing his hand over his eyes, with a gesture of pain. The elder man laughed. “The only horrible thing in the world is ennui, Dorian. That is the one sin for which there is no forgiveness. But we are not likely to suffer from it, unless these fellows keep chattering about this thing at dinner. I must tell them that the subject is to be tabooed. As for omens, there is no such thing as an omen. Destiny does not send us heralds. She is too wise or too cruel for that. Besides, what on earth could happen to you, Dorian? You have everything in the world that a man can want. There is no one who would not be delighted to change places with you.” “There is no one with whom I would not change places, Harry. Don’t laugh like that. I am telling you the truth. The wretched peasant who has just died is better off than I am. I have no terror of Death. It is the coming of Death that terrifies me. Its monstrous wings seem to wheel in the leaden air around me. Good heavens! don’t you see a man moving behind the trees there, watching me, waiting for me?” Lord Henry looked in the direction in which the trembling gloved hand was pointing. “Yes,” he said, smiling, “I see the gardener waiting for you. I suppose he wants to ask you what flowers you wish to have on the table to-night. How absurdly nervous you are, my dear fellow! You must come and see my doctor, when we get back to town.” Dorian heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the gardener approaching. The man touched his hat, glanced for a moment at Lord Henry in a hesitating manner, and then produced a letter, which he handed to his master. “Her Grace told me to wait for an answer,” he murmured. Dorian put the letter into his pocket. “Tell her Grace that I am coming in,” he said, coldly. The man turned round, and went rapidly in the direction of the house. “How fond women are of doing dangerous things!” laughed Lord Henry. “It is one of the qualities in them that I admire most. A woman will flirt with anybody in the world as long as other people are looking on.” “How fond you are of saying dangerous things, Harry! In the present instance you are quite astray. I like the Duchess very much, but I don’t love her.” “And the Duchess loves you very much, but she likes you less, so you are excellently matched.” “You are talking scandal, Harry, and there is never any basis for scandal.” “The basis of every scandal is an immoral certainty,” said Lord Henry, lighting a cigarette. “You would sacrifice anybody, Harry, for the sake of an epigram.” “The world goes to the altar of its own accord,” was the answer. “I wish I could love,” cried Dorian Gray, with a deep note of pathos in his voice. “But I seem to have lost the passion, and forgotten the desire. I am too much concentrated on myself. My own personality has become a burden to me. I want to escape, to go away, to forget. It was silly of me to come down here at all. I think I shall send a wire to Harvey to have the yacht got ready. On a yacht one is safe.” “Safe from what, Dorian? You are in some trouble. Why not tell me what it is? You know I would help you.” “I can’t tell you, Harry,” he answered, sadly. “And I dare say it is only a fancy of mine. This unfortunate accident has upset me. I have a horrible presentiment that something of the kind may happen to me.” “What nonsense!” “I hope it is, but I can’t help feeling it. Ah! here is the Duchess, looking like Artemis in a tailormade gown. You see we have come back, Duchess.” “I have heard all about it, Mr. Gray,” she answered. “Poor Geoffrey is terribly upset. And it seems that you asked him not to shoot the hare. How curious!” “Yes, it was very curious. I don’t know what made me say it. Some whim, I suppose. It looked the loveliest of little live things. But I am sorry they told you about the man. It is a hideous subject.” “It is an annoying subject,” broke in Lord Henry. “It has no psychological value at all. Now if Geoffrey had done the thing on purpose, how interesting he would be! I should like to know someone who had committed a real murder.” “How horrid of you, Harry!” cried the Duchess. “Isn’t it, Mr. Gray? Harry, Mr. Gray is ill again. He is going to faint.” Dorian drew himself up with an effort, and smiled. “It is nothing, Duchess,” he murmured; “my nerves are dreadfully out of order. That is all. I didn’t am afraid I walked too far this morning. hear what Harry said. Was it very bad? You must tell me some other time. I think I must go and lie down. You will excuse me, won’t you?” They had reached the great flight of steps that led from the conservatory on to the terrace. As the glass door closed behind Dorian, Lord Henry turned and looked at the Duchess with his slumberous eyes. “Are you very much in love with him?” he asked. She did not answer for some time, but stood gazing at the landscape. “I wish I knew,” she said at last. He shook his head. “Knowledge would be fatal. It is the uncertainty that charms one. A mist makes things wonderful.” “One may lose one’s way.” “All ways end at the same point, my dear Gladys.” “What is that?” “Disillusion.” “It was my début in life,” she sighed. “It came to you crowned.” “I am tired of strawberry leaves.” “They become you.” “Only in public.” “You would miss them,” said Lord Henry, “I will not part with a petal.” “Monmouth has ears.” “Old age is dull of hearing.” “Has he never been jealous?” “I wish he had been.” He glanced about as if in search of something. “What are you looking for?” she inquired. “The button from your foil,” he answered. “You have dropped it.” She laughed. “I have still the mask.” “It makes your eyes lovelier,” was his reply. She laughed again. Her teeth showed like white seeds in a scarlet fruit. Upstairs, in his own room, Dorian Gray was lying on a sofa, with terror in every tingling fibre of his body. Life had suddenly become too hideous a burden for him to bear. The dreadful death of the unlucky beater, shot in the thicket like a wild animal, had seemed to him to prefigure death for himself also. He had nearly swooned at what Lord Henry had said in a chance mood of cynical jesting. At five o’clock he rang his bell for his servant and gave him orders to pack his things for the night-express to town, and to have the brougham at the door by eight-thirty. He was determined not to sleep another night at Selby Royal. It was an ill-omened place. Death walked there in the sunlight. The grass of the forest had been spotted with blood. Then he wrote a note to Lord Henry, telling him that he was going up to town to consult his doctor, and asking him to entertain his guests in his absence. As he was putting it into the envelope, a knock came to the door, and his valet informed him that the head keeper wished to see him. He frowned, and bit his lip. “Send him in,” he muttered, after some moments’ hesitation. As soon as the man entered Dorian pulled his chequebook out of a drawer, and spread it out before him. “I suppose you have come about the unfortunate accident of this morning, Thornton?” he said, taking up a pen. “Yes, sir,” answered the gamekeeper. “Was the poor fellow married? Had he any people dependent on him?” asked Dorian, looking bored. “If so, I should not like them to be left in want, and will send them any sum of money you may think necessary.” “We don’t know who he is, sir. That is what I took the liberty of coming to you about.” “Don’t know who he is?” said Dorian, listlessly. “What do you mean? Wasn’t he one of your men?” “No, sir. Never saw him before. Seems like a sailor, sir.” The pen dropped from Dorian Gray’s hand, and he felt as if his heart had suddenly stopped beating. “A sailor?” he cried out. “Did you say a sailor?” “Yes, sir. He looks as if he had been a sort of sailor; tattooed on both arms, and that kind of thing.” “Was there anything found on him?” said Dorian, leaning forward and looking at the man with startled eyes. “Anything that would tell his name?” “Some money, sir—not much, and a six-shooter. There was no name of any kind. A decent-looking man, sir, but rough-like. A sort of sailor, we think.” Dorian started to his feet. A terrible hope fluttered past him. He clutched at it madly. “Where is the body?” he exclaimed. “Quick! I must see it at once.” “It is in an empty stable in the Home Farm, sir. The folk don’t like to have that sort of thing in their houses. They say a corpse brings bad luck.” “The Home Farm! Go there at once and meet me. Tell one of the grooms to bring my horse round. No. Never mind. I’ll go to the stables myself. It will save time.” In less than a quarter of an hour Dorian Gray was galloping down the long avenue as hard as he could go. The trees seemed to sweep past him in spectral procession, and wild shadows to fling themselves across his path. Once the mare swerved at a white gate-post and nearly threw him. He lashed her across the neck with his crop. She cleft the dusky air like an arrow. The stones flew from her hoofs. At last he reached the Home Farm. Two men were loitering in the yard. He leapt from the saddle and threw the reins to one of them. In the farthest stable a light was glimmering. Something seemed to tell him that the body was there, and he hurried to the door, and put his hand upon the latch. There he paused for a moment, feeling that he was on the brink of a discovery that would either make or mar his life. Then he thrust the door open, and entered. On a heap of sacking in the far corner was lying the dead body of a man dressed in a coarse shirt and a pair of blue trousers. A spotted handkerchief had been placed over the face. A coarse candle, stuck in a bottle, sputtered beside it. Dorian Gray shuddered. He felt that his could not be the hand to take the handkerchief away, and called out to one of the farm-servants to come to him. “Take that thing off the face. I wish to see it,” he said, clutching at the doorpost for support. When the farm-servant had done so, he stepped forward. A cry of joy broke from his lips. The man who had been shot in the thicket was James Vane. He stood there for some minutes looking at the dead body. As he rode home, his eyes were full of tears, for he knew he was safe.
CHAPTER XIX
“There is no use your telling me that you are going to be good,” cried Lord Henry, dipping his white fingers into a red copper bowl filled with rose-water. “You’re quite perfect. Pray, don’t change.” Dorian Gray shook his head. “No, Harry, I have done too many dreadful things in my life. I am not going to do any more. I began my good actions yesterday.” “Where were you yesterday?” “In the country, Harry. I was staying at a little Inn by myself.” “My dear boy,” said Lord Henry, smiling, “anybody can be good in the country. There are no temptations there. That is the reason why people who live out of town are so absolutely uncivilised. Civilisation is not by any means an easy thing to attain to. There are only two ways by which man can reach It. One is by being cultured, the other by being currupt. Country people have no opportunity of being either, so they stagnate.” “Culture and corruption,” echoed Dorian. “I have known something of both. It seems terrible to me now that they should ever be found together. For I have a new ideal, Harry. I am going to alter. I think I have altered.” “You have not yet told me what your good action was. Or did you say you had done more than one?” asked his companion, as he spilt into his plate a little crimson pyramid of seeded strawberries, and through a perforated shell-shaped spoon snowed white sugar upon them. “I can tell you, Harry. It is not a story I could tell to anyone else. I spared somebody. It sounds vain, but you understand what I mean. She was quite beautiful, and wonderfully like Sibyl Vane. I think it was that which first attracted me to her. You remember Sibyl, don’t you? How long ago that seems! Well, Hetty was not one of our own class, of course. She was simply a girl in a village. But I really loved her. I am quite sure that I loved her. All during this wonderful May that we have been having, I used to run down and see her two or three times a week. Yesterday she met me in a little orchard. The apple-blossoms kept tumbling down on her hair, and she was laughing. We were to have gone away together this morning at dawn. Suddenly I determined to leave her as flower-like as I had found her.” “I should think the novelty of the emotion must have given you a thrill of real pleasure, Dorian,” Interrupted Lord Henry. “But I can finish your idyll for you. You gave her good advice, and broke her heart. That was the beginning of your reformation. Harry, you are horrible! You mustn’t say these dreadful things. Hetty’s heart is not broken. Of course she cried, and all that. But there is no disgrace upon her. She can live, like Perdita, in her garden of mint and marigold.” “And weep over a faithless Florizel,” said Lord Henry, laughing, as he leant back in his chair. “My dear Dorian, you have the most curiously boyish moods. Do you think this girl will ever be really contented now with anyone of her own rank? suppose she will be married some day to a rough carter or a grinning ploughman. Well, the fact of having met you, and loved you, will teach her to despise her husband, and she will be wretched. From a moral point of view, I cannot say that I think much of your great renunciation. Even as a beginning, it is poor. Besides, how do you know that Hetty isn’t floating at the present moment in some star-lit millpond, with lovely water-lilies round her, like Ophelia?” “I can’t bear this, Harry! You mock at everything, and then suggest the most serious tragedies. I am sorry I told you now. I don’t care what you say to me. I know I was right in acting as I did. Poor Hetty! As I rode past the farm this morning, I saw her white face at the window, like a spray of jasmine. Don’t let us talk about it any more, and don’t try to persuade me that the first good action I have done for years, the first little bit of self-sacrifice I have ever known, is really a sort of sin. I want to be better. I am going to be better. Tell me something about yourself. What is going on in town? I have not been to the club for days.” “The people are still discussing poor Basil’s disappearance.” “I should have thought they had got tired of that by this time,” said Dorian, pouring himself out some wine, and frowning slightly. “My dear boy, they have only been talking about it for six weeks, and the British public are really not equal to the mental strain of having more than one topic every three months. They have been very fortunate lately, however. They have had my own divorce-case, and Alan Campbell’s suicide. Now they have got the mysterious disappearance of an artist. Scotland Yard still insists that the man in the grey ulster who left for Paris by the midnight train on the ninth of November was poor Basil, and the French police declare that Basil never arrived in Paris at all. I suppose in about a fortnight we shall be told that lie has been seen in San Francisco. It is an odd thing, but everyone who disappears is said to be seen at San Francisco. It must be a delightful city, and possess all the attractions of the next world.” “What do you think has happened to Basil?” asked Dorian, holding up his Burgundy against the light, and wondering how it was that he could discuss the matter so calmly. “I have not the slightest idea. If Basil chooses to hide himself, it is no business of mine. If he is dead, I don’t want to think about him. Death is the only thing that ever terrifies me. I hate it.” “Why?” said the younger man, wearily. “Because,” said Lord Henry, passing beneath his nostrils the gilt trellis of an open vinaigrette box, “one can survive everything nowadays except that. Death and vulgarity are the only two facts in the nineteenth century that one cannot explain away. Let us have our coffee in the music-room, Dorian. You must play Chopin to me. The man with whom my wife ran away played Chopin exquisitely. Poor Victoria! I was very fond of her. The house is rather lonely without her. Of course married life is merely a habit, a bad habit. But then one regrets the loss even of one’s worst habits. Perhaps one regrets them the most. They are such an essential part of one’s personality.” Dorian said nothing, but rose from the table and, passing into the next room, sat down to the piano and let his fingers stray across the white and black ivory of the keys. After the coffee had been brought in, he stopped, and, looking over at Lord Henry, said, “Harry, did it ever occur to you that Basil was murdered?” Lord Henry yawned. “Basil was very popular, and always wore a Waterbury watch. Why should he have been murdered? He was not clever enough to have enemies. Of course he had a wonderful genius for painting. But a man can paint like Velasquez and yet be as dull as possible. Basil was really rather dull. He only interested me once, and that was when he told me, years ago, that he had a wild adoration for you, and that you were the dominant motive of his art.” “I was very fond of Basil,” said Dorian, with a note of sadness in his voice. “But don’t people say that he was murdered?” “Oh, some of the papers do. It does not seem to me to be at all probable. I know there are dreadful places in Paris, but Basil was not the sort of man to have gone to them. He had no curiosity. It was his chief defect.” “What would you say, Harry, if I told you that I had murdered Basil?” said the younger man. He watched him intently after he had spoken. “I would say, my dear fellow, that you were posing for a character that doesn’t suit you. All crime is vulgar, just as all vulgarity is crime. It is not in you, Dorian, to commit a murder. I am sorry if I hurt your vanity by saying so, but I assure you it is true. Crime belongs exclusively to the lower orders. I don’t blame them in the smallest degree. I should fancy that crime was to them what art is to us, simply a method of procuring extraordinary sensations.” “A method of procuring sensations? Do you think, then, that a man who has once committed a murder could possibly do the same crime again? Don’t tell me that.” “Oh! anything becomes a pleasure if one does it too often,” cried Lord Henry, laughing. “That is one of the most important secrets of life. I should fancy, however, that murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner. But let us pass from poor Basil. I wish I could believe that he had come to such a really romantic end as you suggest; but I can’t. I dare say he fell into the Seine off an omnibus, and that the conductor hushed up the scandal. Yes: I should fancy that was his end. I see him lying now on his back under those dull-green waters with the heavy barges floating over him, and long weeds catching in his hair. Do you know, I don’t think he would have done much more good work. During the last ten years his painting had gone off very much.” Dorian heaved a sigh, and Lord Henry strolled across the room and began to stroke the head of a curious Java parrot, a large grey-plumaged bird, with pink crest and tail, that was balancing itself upon a bamboo perch. As his pointed fingers touched it, it dropped the white scurf of crinkled lids over black glass-like eyes, and began to sway backwards and forwards. “Yes,” he continued, turning round, and taking his handkerchief out of his pocket; “his painting had quite gone off. It seemed to me to have lost something. It had lost an ideal. When you and he ceased to be great friends, he ceased to be a great artist. What was it separated you? I suppose he bored you. If so, he never forgave you. It’s a habit bores have. By the way, what has become of that wonderful portrait he did of you? I don’t think I have ever seen it since he finished it. Oh! I remember your telling me years ago that you had sent it down to Selby, and that it had got mislaid or stolen on the way. You never got it back? What a pity! It was really a masterpiece. I remember I wanted to buy it. I wish I had now. It belonged to Basil’s best period. Since then, his work was that curious mixture of bad painting and good intentions that always entitles a man to be called a representative British artist. Did you advertise for it? You should.” “I forget,” said Dorian. “I suppose I did. But I never really liked it. I am sorry I sat for it. The memory of the thing is hateful to me. Why do you talk of it? It used to remind me of those curious lines in some play—‘Hamlet,’ I think—how do they run? ‘Like the painting of a sorrow. A face without a heart.’ Yes: that is what it was like.” Lord Henry laughed. “If a man treats life artistically, his brain is his heart,” he answered, sinking into an arm-chair. Dorian Gray shook his head, and struck some soft chords on the piano. “’Like the painting of a sorrow,’” he repeated, “‘a face without a heart.’” The elder man lay back and looked at him with half-closed eyes. “By the way, Dorian,” he said, after a pause, “‘what does it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose’ —how does the quotation run?—‘his own soul’?” The music jarred and Dorian Gray started, and stared at his friend. “Why do you ask me that Harry?” “My dear fellow,” said Lord Henry, elevating his eyebrows in surprise, “I asked you because I thought you might be able to give me an answer. That is all. I was going through the Park last Sunday, and close by the Marble Arch there stood a little crowd of shabby-looking people listening to some vulgar street-preacher. As I passed by, I heard the man yelling out that question to his audience. It struck me as being rather dramatic. London is very rich in curious effects of that kind. A wet Sunday, an uncouth Christian in a mackintosh, a ring of sickly white faces under a broken roof of dripping umbrellas, and a wonderful phrase flung into the air by shrill, hysterical lips—it was really very good in its way, quite a suggestion. I thought of telling the prophet that Art had a soul, but that man had not. I am afraid, however, he would not have understood me.” “Don’t, Harry. The soul is a terrible reality. It It can be bought, and sold, and bartered away. can be poisoned, or made perfect. There is a soul in each one of us. I know it.” Do you feel quite sure of that, Dorian?” “Quite sure.” “Ah! then it must be an illusion. The things one feels absolutely certain about are never true. That is the fatality of Faith, and the lesson of Romance. How grave you are! Don’t be so serious. What have you or I to do with the superstitions of our age? No: we have given up our belief in the soul. Play me something. Play me a nocturne, Dorian, and, as you play, tell me, in a low voice, how you have kept your youth. You must have some secret. I am only ten years older than you are, and I am wrinkled, and worn, and yellow. You are really wonderful, Dorian. You have never looked more charming than you do to-night. You remind me of the day I saw you first. You were rather cheeky, very shy, and absolutely extraordinary. You have changed, of course, but not in appearance. I wish you would tell me your secret. To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable. Youth! There is nothing like it. It’s absurd to talk of the ignorance of youth. The only people to whose opinions I listen now with any respect are people much younger than myself. They seem in front of me. Life has revealed to them her latest wonder. As for the aged, I always contradict the aged. I do it on principle. If you ask them their opinion on something that happened yesterday, they solemnly give you the opinions current in 1820, when people wore high stocks, believed in everything, and knew absolutely nothing. How lovely that thing you are playing is! I wonder did Chopin write it at Majorca, with the sea weeping round the villa, and the salt spray dashing against What a the panes? It is marvellously romantic. blessing it is that there is one art left to us that is not It imitative! Don’t stop. I want music to-night. seems to me that you are the young Apollo, and that I am Marsyas listening to you. I have sorrows, Dorian, of my own, that even you know nothing of. The tragedy of old age is not that one is old, but that one is young. I am amazed sometimes at my own sincerity. Ah, Dorian, how happy you are! What an exquisite life you have had! You have drunk deeply of everything. You have crushed the grapes against your palate. Nothing has been hidden from you. And it has all been to you no more than the sound of music. It has not marred you. You are still the same.” “I am not the same, Harry.” “Yes: you are the same. I wonder what the rest of your life will be. Don’t spoil it by renunciations. At present you are a perfect type. Don’t make yourself incomplete. You are quite flawless now. You need not shake your head: you know you are. Besides, Dorian, don’t deceive yourself. Life is not governed by will or intention. Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe, and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play—I tell you, Dorian, that it is on things like these that our lives depend. Browning writes about that somewhere; but our own senses will imagine them for us. There are moments when the odour of lilas blanc passes suddenly across me, and I have to live the strangest month of my life over again. I wish I could change places with you, Dorian. The world has cried out against us both, but it has always worshipped you. It always will worship you. You are the type of what the age is searching for, and what it is afraid it has found. I am so glad that you have never done anything, never carved a statue, or painted a picture, or produced anything outside of yourself! Life has been your art. You have set yourself to music. Your days are your sonnets.” Dorian rose up from the piano, and passed his hand through his hair. “Yes, life has been exquisite,” he murmured, “but I am not going to have the same life, Harry. And you must not say these extravagant things to me. You don’t know everything about me. I think that if you did, even you would turn from me. You laugh. Don’t laugh.” “Why have you stopped playing, Dorian? Go back and give me the nocturne over again. Look at that great honey-coloured moon that hangs in the dusky air. She is waiting for you to charm her, and if you play she will come closer to the earth. You won’t? Let us go to the club, then. It has been a charming evening, and we must end it charmingly. There is some one at White’s who wants immensely to know you—young Lord Poole, Bournemouth’s eldest son. He has already copied your neckties, and has begged me to introduce him to you. He is quite delightful, and rather reminds me of you.” “I hope not,” said Dorian, with a sad look in his eyes. “But I am tired to-night, Harry. I shan’t go to the club. It is nearly eleven, and I want to go to bed early.” “Do stay. You have never played so well as to-night. There was something in your touch that was wonderful. It had more expression than I had ever heard from it before.” “It is because I am going to be good,” he answered, smiling. “I am a little changed already.” “You cannot change to me, Dorian,” said Lord Henry. “You and I will always be friends.” “Yet you poisoned me with a book once. I should not forgive that. Harry, promise me that you will never lend that book to any one. It does harm.” “My dear boy, you are really beginning to moralise. You will soon be going about like the converted, and the revivalist, warning people against all the sins of which you have grown tired. You are much too delightful to do that. Besides, it is no use. You and 1 are what we are, and will be what we will be. As for being poisoned by a book, there is no such thing as that. Art has no influence upon action. It annihilates the desire to act. It is superbly sterile. The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame. That is all. But we won’t discuss literature. Come round to-morrow. I am going to ride at eleven. We might go together, and I will take you to lunch afterwards with Lady Branksome. She is a charming woman, and wants to consult you about some tapestries she is thinking of buying. Mind you come. Or shall we lunch with our little Duchess? She says she never sees you now. Perhaps you are tired of Gladys? thought you would be. Her clever tongue gets on one’s nerves. Well, in any case, be here at eleven.” “Must I really come, Harry?” “Certainly. The Park is quite lovely now. I don’t think there have been such lilacs since the year I met you.” “Very well. I shall be here at eleven,” said Dorian. “Good-night, Harry.” As he reached the door he hesitated for a moment, as if he had something more to say. Then he sighed and went out.
CHAPTER XX
It was a lovely night, so warm that he threw his coat over his arm, and did not even put his silk scarf round his throat. As he strolled home, smoking his cigarette, two young men in evening dress passed him. He heard one of them whisper to the other, “That is Dorian Gray.” He remembered how pleased he used to be when he was pointed out, or stared at, or talked about. He was tired of hearing his own name now. Half the charm of the little village where he had been so often lately was that no one knew who he was. He had often told the girl whom he had lured to love him that he was poor, and she had believed him. He had told her once that he was wicked, and she had laughed at him, and answered that wicked people were always very old and very ugly. What a laugh she had!—just like a thrush singing. And how pretty she had been in her cotton dresses and her large hats! She knew nothing, but she had everything that he had lost. Whien he reached home, he found his servant waiting up for him. He sent him to bed, and threw himself down on the sofa in the library, and began to think over some of the things that Lord Henry had said to him. Was it really true that one could never change? He felt a wild longing for the unstained purity of his boyhood—his rose-white boyhood, as Lord Henry had once called it. He knew that he had tarnished himself, filled his mind with corruption, and given horror to his fancy; that he had been an evil influence to others, and had experienced a terrible joy in being so; and that, of the lives that had crossed his own, it had been the fairest and tlie most full of promise that he had brought to shame. But was it all irretrievable? Was there no hope for him? Ah! in what a monstrous moment of pride and passion he had prayed that the portrait should bear the burden of his days, and he keep the unsullied splendour of eternal youth! All his failure had been due to that. Better for him that each sin of his life had brought its sure, swift penalty along with it. There was purification in punishment. Not “Forgive us our sins,” but “Smite us for our iniquities” should be the prayer of a man to a most just God. The curiously carved mirror that Lord Henry had given to him, so many years ago now, was standing on the table, and the white-limbed Cupids laughed round it as of old. He took it up, as he had done on that night of horror, when he had first noted the change in the fatal picture, and with wild, tear-dimmed eyes looked into its polished shield. Once, some one who had terribly loved him had written to him a mad letter, ending with these idolatrous words: “The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history.” The phrases came back to his memory, and he repeated them over and over to himself. Then he loathed his own beauty, and, flinging the mirror on the floor, crushed it into silver splinters beneath his heel. It was his beauty that had ruined him, his beauty and the youth that he had prayed for. But for those two things, his life might have been free from stain. His beauty had been to him but a What was youth mask, his youth but a mockery. at best? A green, an unripe time, a time of shallow moods and sickly thoughts. Why had he worn its livery? Youth had spoiled him. It was better not to think of the past. Nothing could alter that. It was of himself, and of his own future, that he had to think. James Vane was hidden in a nameless grave in Selby churchyard. Alan Campbell had shot himself one night in his laboratory, but had not revealed the secret that he had been forced to know. The excitement, such as it was, over Basil Hallward’s disappearance would soon pass away. It was already waning. He was perfectly safe there. Nor, indeed, was it the death of Basil Hallward that weighed most upon his mind. It was the living death of his own soul that troubled him. Basil had painted the portrait that had marred his life. He could not forgive him that. It was the portrait that had done everything. Basil had said things to him that were unbearable, and that he had yet borne with patience. The murder had been simply the madness of a moment. As for Alan Campbell, his suicide had been his own aet. He had chosen to do it. It was nothing to him. A new life! That was what he wanted. That was what he was waiting for. Surely he had begun It already. He had spared one innocent thing, at any rate. He would never again tempt innocence. He would be good. As he thought of Hetty Merton, he began to wonder if the portrait in the locked room had changed. Surely it was not still so horrible as it had been? Perhaps if his life became pure, he would be able to expel every sign of evil passion from the face. Perhaps the signs of evil had already gone away. He would go and look. He took the lamp from the table and crept upstairs. As he unbarred the door a smile of joy flitted across his strangely young-looking face and lingered for a moment about his lips. Yes, he would be good, and the hideous thing that he had hidden away would no longer be a terror to him. He felt as if the load had been lifted from him already. He went in quietly, looking the door behind him, as was his custom, and dragged the purple hanging from the portrait. A cry of pain and indignation broke from him. He could see no change, save that in the eyes there was a look of cunning, and in the mouth the curved wrinkle of the hypocrite. The thing was still loathsome—more loathsome, if possible, than before—and the scarlet dew that spotted the hand seemed brighter, and more like blood newly spilt. Then he trembled. Had it been merely vanity that had made him do his one good deed? Or the desire for a new sensation, as Lord Henry had hinted, with his mocking laugh? Or that passion to act a part that sometimes makes us do things finer than we are ourselves? Or, perhaps, all these? And why was the red stain larger than it had been? It seemed to have crept like a horrible disease over the wrinkled fingers. There was blood on the painted feet, as though the thing had dripped—blood even on the hand that had not held the knife. Confess? Did it mean that he was to confess? To give himself up, and be put to death? He laughed. He felt that the idea was monstrous. Besides, even if he did confess, who would believe him? There was no trace of the murdered man anywhere. Everything belonging to him had been destroyed. He himself had burned what had been below-stairs. The world would simply say that he was mad. They would shut him up if he persisted in his story…. Yet it was his duty to confess, to suffer public shame, and to make public atonement. There was a God who called upon men to tell their sins to earth as well as to heaven. Nothing that he could do would cleanse him till he had told his own sin. His sin? He shrugged his shoulders. The death of Basil Hallward seemed very little to him. He was thinking of Hetty Merton. For it was an unjust mirror, this mirror of his soul that he was looking at. Vanity? Curiosity? Hypocrisy? Had there been nothing more in his renunciation than that? There had been something more. At least he thought so. But who could tell?… No. There had been nothing more. Through vanity he had spared her. In hypocrisy he had worn the mask of goodness. For curiosity’s sake he had tried the denial of self. He recognised that HOW. But this murder—was it to dog him all his life? Was he always to be burdened by his past? Was he really to confess? Never. There was only one bit of evidence left against him. The picture itself Why —that was evidence. He would destroy it. had lie kept it so long? Once it had given him pleasure to watch it changing and growing old. Of late he had felt no such pleasure. It had kept him awake When he had been away, he had been at night. filled with terror lest other eyes should look upon it. It had brought melancholy across his passions. Its mere memory had marred many moments of joy. It had been like conscience to him. Yes, it had been conscience. He would destroy it. He looked round, and saw the knife that had stabbed Basil Hallward. He had cleaned it many times, till there was no stain left upon it. It was bright, and glistened. As it had killed the painter, so it would kill the painter’s work, and all that that meant. It would kill the past, and when that was dead he would be free. It would kill this monstrous soul-life, and, without its hideous warnings, he would be at peace. He seized the thing, and stabbed the picture with it. There was a cry heard, and a crash. The cry was so horrible in its agony that the frightened servants woke, and crept out of their rooms. Two gentlemen, who were passing in the Square below, stopped, and looked up at the great house. They walked on till they met a policeman, and brought him back. The man rang the bell several times, but there was no answer. Except for a light in one of the top windows, the house was all dark. After a time, he went away and stood in an adjoining portico and watched. Whose house is that, constable? asked the elder of the two gentlemen. Mr. Dorian Gray’s, sir,” answered the policeman. They looked at each other, as they walked away, and sneered. One of them was Sir Henry Ashton’s uncle. Inside, in the servants’ part of the house, the half-clad domestics were talking in low whispers to each other. Old Mrs. Leaf was crying and wringing her hands. Francis was as pale as death. After about a quarter of an hour, he got the coachman and one of the footmen and crept upstairs. They knocked, but there was no reply. They called out. Everything was still. Finally, after vainly trying to force the door, they got on the roof, and dropped down on to the balcony. The windows yielded easily: their bolts were old. When they entered they found, hanging upon the wall, a splendid portrait of their master as they had last seen him, in all the wonder of his exquisite youth and beauty. Lying on the floor was a dead man, in evening dress, with a knife in his heart. He was withered, wrinkled, and loathsome of visage. It was not till they had examined the rings that they recognised who it was.
THE END

SHAKESPEARE and PRECIOUS STONES 

SHAKESPEARE and PRECIOUS STONES BY GEO. FREDERICK KUNZ Ph.D., Sc.D.
THE CURIOUS LORE OF PRECIOUS STONES
Being a description of their sentiments and folklore, superstitions, symbolism, mysticism, use in protection, prevention, religion and divination, crystal gazing, birth-stones, lucky stones and talismans, astral, zodiacal, and planetary.
THE MAGIC OF JEWELS AND CHARMS
Magic jewels and electric gems; meteorites or celestial stones; stones of healing; fabulous stones; concretions and fossils; snake stones and bezoars; charms of ancient and modern times; facts and fancies about precious stones.
EACH: Profusely illustrated in color, doubletone and line. Octavo. Handsome cloth binding, gilt top, in a box. 86.00 net. Carriage charges extra.
SHAKESPEARE AND PRECIOUS STONES
Treating of the known references to precious stones in Shakespeare’s works, with comments as to the origin of his material, the knowledge of the poet concerning precious stones, and references as to where the precious stones of his time came from. Four illustrations. Square Octavo. Decorated cloth. 81.25 net.
TO RUBY MY DAUGHTER, WHOSE MOTHER, SOPHIA HANDFORTH, WAS BORN IN THE LAND OF SHAKESPEARE, AND TO RUBY’S DAUGHTER GRETEL (THE PEARL), THIS VOLUME IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED
FOREWORD
AS no writer has made a more beautiful and telling use of precious stones in his verse than did Shakespeare, the author believed that if these references could be gathered together for comparison and for quotation, and if this were done from authentic and early editions of the great dramatist-poet’s works, it would give the literary and historical student a better understanding as to what gems were used in Shakespeare’s time, and in what terms he referred to them. This has been done here, and comparisons are made with the precious stones of the present time, showing what mines were known and gems were worn in Shakespeare’s day, and also something of those that were not known then, but are known at this time. The reader is also provided with a few important data serving to show what could have been the sources of the poet’s knowledge regarding precious stones and whence were derived those which he may have seen or of which he may have heard. As in this period the beauty of a jewel depended as much, or more, upon the elaborate setting as upon the purity and brilliancy of the gems, the author has given some information regarding the leading goldsmith-jewellers, both English and French, of Shakespeare’s age. Thus the reader will find, besides the very full references to the poet’s words and clear directions as to where all the passages can be located in the First Folio of 1623, much material that will stimulate an interest in the subject and promote further independent research. The author wishes to express his thanks to Dr. Appleton Morgan, President of the Shakespeare Society of New York; Miss H. C. Bartlett. the Shakespearean bibliophile; the New York Public Library and H. M. Leydenberg, assistant there; Gardner C. Teall; Frederic W. Erb, assistant librarian of Columbia University; the Council of the Grolier Club, Miss Ruth S. Granniss, librarian of the Club, and Vechten Waring, all of New York City.
G. F. K.
New York
April, 1916
SHAKESPEARE AND PRECIOUS STONES
So wide is the range of the immortal verse of Shakespeare, and so many and various are the subjects he touched upon and adorned with the magic beauty of his poetic imagery, that it will be of great interest to refer to the allusions to gems and precious stones in his plays and poems. These allusions are all given in the latter part of this volume. What can we learn from them of Shakespeare’s knowledge of the source, quality, and use of these precious stones? The great favor that pearls enjoyed in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries is, as we see, reflected by the frequency with which he speaks of them, and the different passages reveal in several instances a knowledge of the ancient tales of their formation and principal source. Thus, in Troilus and Cressida (Act i, sc. I) he writes: “Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl;” and Pliny’s tales of the pearl’s origin from dew are glanced at indirectly when he says:
The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
Shall come again, transform’d to orient pearl.
Richard III, Act iv, sc. 4.
First Folio, “Histories,” p. 198, col. A, line 17.
This is undoubtedly the reason for the comparison between pearls and tears, leading to the German proverb, “Perlen bedeuten Tränen” (Pearls mean tears), which was then taken to signify that pearls portended tears, instead of that they were the offspring of drops of liquid. The world-famed pearl of Cleopatra, which she drank after dissolving it, so as to win her wager with Antony that she would entertain him with a banquet costing a certain immense sum of money, is not even noticed, however, in Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra. In the poet’s time pearls were not only worn as jewels, but were extensively used in embroidering rich garments and upholstery and for the adornment of harnesses. To this Shakespeare alludes in the following passages:
The intertissued robe of gold and pearl.
Henry V, Act iv, sc. 1.
First Folio, “Histories,” p. 85 (page number repeated), col. B, line 13.
Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Taming of the Shrew, Introd., sc. 2.
“Comedies,” p. 209, col. B, line 33.
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss’d with pearl.
Ibid., Act ii, sc. 1.
“Comedies,” p. 217, col. B, line 32.
Laced with silver, set with pearls.
Much Ado About Nothing, Act iii, sc. 4.
“Comedies,” p. 112, col. B, line 65.
Moreover, we have a simile which might almost make us suppose that Shakespeare knew something of the details of the pearl fisheries, when the oysters are piled up on shore and allowed to decompose, so as to render it easier to get at the pearls, for he makes one of his characters say, speaking of an honest man in a poor dwelling, that he was like a pearl in your foul oyster. (As You Like It, Act v, sc. 4.) In the strange transformation told of in Ariel’s song, the bones of the drowned man have been turned to coral, and his eyes to pearls (Tempest, Act i, sc. 2). The strange and sometimes morbid attraction of opposites finds expression in a queer old English proverbial saying given in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies’ eyes. The likeness to drops of dew appears where we read of the dew that it was “Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass” (Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act i, sc. 1), and a little later in the same play we read the following injunction:
I most go seek some dewdrops here
And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.
Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act ii, sc. I.
First Folio, “Comedies,” p. 148, col. A, line 38.
And later still we have the lines:
That same dew, which sometime on the buds
Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls.
Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act iv, sc. I.
“Comedies,” p. 157, col. B, line 10.
The pearl as a simile for great and transcendent value, perhaps suggested by the Pearl of Great Price of the Gospel, is used of Helen of Greece in the lines (Troilus and Cressida, Act ii, sc. 2): She is a pearl Whose price hath launch’d above a thousand ships. At end of “Histories,” page unnumbered (p. 596 of facsimile), Col. A, line 19.
This being an allusion to the Greek fleet sent out under Agamemnon and Menelaus to bring back the truant wife from Troy. The idea of a supremely valuable pearl is also apparent in the lines embraced in Othello’s last words before his self-immolation as an expiation of the murder of Desdemona, where he says of himself:1 Whose hand Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe. Othello, Act v, sc. 2. “Tragedies,” p. 338, col. B, line 53.
Although the term “Orient pearl” is that used by Shakespeare, and undoubtedly many of the older pearls of his day were really of Cinghalese or Persian origin, the principal source of supply was then the Panama fishery discovered by the Spaniards about a century earlier and actively exploited by them.2 However, through the old inventories made by experts familiar with the real sources of precious stones and pearls—though not always correctly with those of the latter—the term “Orient pearl” came in time to denote one of fine hue, so that the “orient” of a pearl is still spoken of as signifying a sheen of the first quality. Many fine pearls of the fresh-water variety, not the marine pearls, were found in the Scotch rivers. It was these that are mentioned as having been obtained by Julius Cæsar to ornament a buckler which he dedicated to the shrine of the Temple of Venus Genetrix. It was also this type of pearl that was so eagerly sought by the late Queen Victoria when she visited Scotland. Many of these pearls exist in old, especially in ecclesiastical jewelry, and several are in the Ashburnham missal now in the J. Pierpont Morgan library.3 Of the glowing ruby Shakespeare seems to have known little, since he uses its name only in the conventional way to signify a bright or choice shade of red. In Measure for Measure (Act ii, sc. 4) the “impression of keen whips,” produced ruby streaks on the skin; even more materialistic is the nose “all o’er embellished with rubies, carbuncles and sapphires” (Comedy of Errors, Act iii, sc. 2). The common employment of the designation carbuncle for a precious stone and also for a boil was usual from ancient times. At least, we might gather from this passage that the poet was aware of the distinction between ruby and carbuncle (pyrope garnet). Rubies as “fairy favors” is a dainty mention in the fairy drama Midsummer Night’s Dream (Act ii, sc. 1). Cæsar’s wounds “ope their ruby lips” (Julius Cæsar, Act iii, sc. 1). Macbeth speaks of the “natural ruby of your cheeks,” in addressing his wife at the apparition of Banquo’s ghost; with her this is unchanged, while with him terror or remorse has blanched it (Macbeth, Act iii, sc. 4). Lastly, the term “ruby lips,” so often used by poets, is employed by Shakespeare with consummate art in Cymbeline (Act ii, sc. 2) where he writes:
But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagon’d, How dearly they do’t. First Folio, “Tragedies,” p. 376, col. B, line 18.
The “rubies” of the poet’s time were frequently ruby spinels, or the so-called “balas rubies” from Badakshan, in Afghan Turkestan. The most noted one in the England of that period was probably the one said to have been given to Edward the Black Prince by Pedro the Cruel of Castile, after the battle of Najera, in 1367, and now the most prized adornment of the English Crown, excepting the great historic diamond, the Koh-i-nûr. The immense Star of South Africa, weighing 531 metric carats, five times the weight of the Koh-i-nûr, is intrinsically worth much more, but lacks the manifold dramatic and historic associations of its Indian sister. Strange to say, the beautiful sapphire is only twice named by Shakespeare, once as an adjunct to the pearl in embroidery (Merry Wives of Windsor, Act v, sc. 5). The single mention of chrysolite is much more impressive:
If heaven would make me such another world, Of one entire and perfect chrysolite! Othello, Act v, sc. 2. “Tragedies,” p. 337, col. A, line 5.
Chrysolite (peridot, or olivine) was regarded in Shakespeare’s time and earlier as of exceptional rarity. The fine peridots of the Chapel of the Three Kings in Cologne Cathedral were believed to be emeralds of extraordinary size and were once valued at $15,000,000, although they are really worth barely $100,000; some of them are more than an inch in diameter. Whence they came is uncertain, but it is probable that they were brought from the East at some time during the Crusades. Indeed the origin of the fine peridots of the Middle Ages is shrouded in mystery; they are, however, believed to have been found in one or more of the islands in the Red Sea. In our day a number of specimens have been discovered on the small island of St. John in that sea; the deposit here is a jealously-guarded monopoly of the Egyptian Government. Peridots have also been found at Spyrget Island, in the Arabian Gulf. The most remarkable source of gem-material of this stone is meteoric, a few gems weighing as much as a carat each having been cut out of some yellowish-green peridot obtained by the writer from the meteoric iron of Glorieta Mountain, New Mexico. That a turquoise, presumably set in a ring, was given to Shylock by Leah before their marriage, perhaps at their betrothal, is all that Shakespeare has found occasion to write of this pretty stone, one of the earliest used for adornment in the world’s history, as the great mines of Nishapur, in Persia, and those of the Sinai Peninsula were worked at a very early time, the latter by the Egyptians as far back as 4000 B.C. With the opal, the poet has seized upon its most characteristic quality, its changeableness of hue, where he says in Twelfth Night (Act ii, sc. 4): “Thy mind is a very opal.” A luminous ring is poetically described in one of Shakespeare’s earliest plays, Titus Andronicus, written in or about 1590. The lines referring to the ring are highly expressive. After the murder of Bassianus, Martius searches in the depths of a dark pit for the dead body, and suddenly cries out to his companion Quintus that he has discovered the bloody corpse. As the interior of the pit is pitch dark, Quintus can scarcely believe what he hears, and he asks Martius how the latter could possibly see what he has described. The answer is given in the following lines:
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring, that lightens all the hole, Which, like a taper in some monument, Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks, And shows the ragged entrails of the pit. Titus Andronicus, Act ii, sc. 3. First Folio, “Tragedies,” p. 38, col. B, lines 53-57.
This certainly was suggested by the common belief in naturally luminous stones, a belief partly due to a superstitious explanation of the ruddy brilliancy of rubies and garnets as resulting from a hidden fire in the stone, and partly, perhaps, to the occasional observation of the phenomena of phosphorescence or fluorescence in certain precious stones. It will have been seen that the text of Shakespeare’s plays gives no evidence tending to show any greater familiarity with precious stones than could be gathered from the poetry of his day, and from his intercourse with classical scholars, such as Francis Bacon, Ben Jonson, and others of those who formed the unique assemblage wont to meet together at the old Mermaid Tavern in London. That a diamond could cost 2000 ducats ($5000), a very large sum in Shakespeare’s time, is noted in one of his earliest plays, the Merchant of Venice (Act iii, sc. 1), and the following injunction emphasizes the great value of a fine diamond:
Set this diamond safe In golden palaces, as it becomes. I Henry VI, Act v, sc.3. “Histories,” p. 116, col. B, line 54. In Pericles we read (Act iii, sc. 2) : The diamonds of a most praisèd water Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Third Folio, 1664, p. 7, col. B, line 38; separate pagination.
In Shakespeare’s time but few of the world’s great diamonds were in Europe, though two, at least, were in his native country. All of them must have been of East Indian origin, as this was before the discovery of the Brazilian mines (1728). In 1547, Henry VIII of England bought of the Fuggers of Augsburg—the great moneylending bankers and jewel setters, or royal pawnbrokers, who generally sold or forced some jewels upon those who obtained a loan—the jewel of Charles the Bold, called the “Three Brethren, from three large balas-rubies with which it was set; the central ornament was a great pointed diamond”; of its weight nothing is known. This jewel was lost by Duke Charles on the field of Granson, March 2, 1476, where it was secured by the Swiss victors; it was eventually bought by the Fuggers. The other fine English diamond was that known as the Sancy, weighing 53¾ carats (55.23 metric carats), acquired by James I from Nicholas Harley de Sancy, in 1604, for 500,000 crowns. This is also stated to have belonged to Charles the Bold. In 1657 it was redeemed by Cardinal Mazarin, after having been pledged for a loan by Queen Henrietta Maria, and at Mazarin’s death, in 1661, was bequeathed, with his other diamonds, to the French Crown. After passing through many vicissitudes, it has recently come into the possession of Baron Astor of Hever (William Waldorf Astor). There is a possibility that the Florentine diamond of 13323/32 carats (137.27 metric carats) was already owned by the grand-ducal house of Tuscany before Shakespeare’s death, but the earliest notice of it appears to be that given by Fermental, a French traveller, who saw it in Florence in 1630. The other great diamonds of former days are of more recent date. The Regent of 1367⁄8 carats (140.64 metric carats), found in India about 1700, was acquired by the Duke of Orleans in 1717; the Orloff (1943⁄4 old carats = 199.73 metric carats) was bought by Prince Orloff for Catherine II, in 1775, for 1,400,000 Dutch florins, or about $560,000. The famous Koh-i-nûr, weighing 1861/16 carats (191.1 metric carats) in its old cutting, came to Europe, as a gift to Queen Victoria from the East India Company, only in 1850; although, if it be the same as the great diamond taken by Humayun, son of Baber, at the battle of Paniput, April 21, 1526, its history dates back at least to 1304, when Sultan Ala-ed-Din took it from the Sultan of Malva, whose family had already owned it for generations. As fresh-colored lips are likened to rubies, so it is said of a bright eye, that it “would emulate the diamond” (Merry Wives of Windsor, Act iii, Sc. 3). Bright eyes are also compared to rock-crystal, and the setting of other gems within a bordering of crystals is evidently alluded to in the following lines from Love’s Labour’s Lost (Act ii, sc. 1): Methought all his senses were lock’d in his eyes As jewels in crystal. First Folio, “Comedies,” p. 128, col. A, line 7.
We have in Richard II (Act i, sc. 1) the terms “fair and crystal” applied to a clear sky, and in Romeo and Juliet (Act i, sc. 2) the word is used to denote superlative excellence, where a lady’s love is to be weighed against her rival on “crystal scales.” Rock-crystal was much more highly valued in the England of Elizabeth and of James I than it is to-day, and was freely used as an adjunct to more precious material, and still was employed to some extent in the adornment of book-covers, although this usage, so common in mediæval times, was fast passing away. In Shakespeare’s poems, “Venus and Adonis” (1593) and “Lucrece” (1594), as well as in his “Sonnets” (1609), in the “Lover’s Complaint” and in the almost certainly spurious “Passionate Pilgrim,” containing two sonnets and three poems from Love’s Labour’s Lost, and which has been included in most collections of his works, there are perhaps relatively more frequent mentions of precious stones than in the plays, a few of them being of special interest. Where we have twice, “ruby lips” (and once “coral lips”) in the plays, the poems speak thrice of “coral lips” or a “coral mouth”;4 a belt has “coral clasps” (“Passionate Pilgrim,” 1. 366). This belt bears also “amber studs,” and in the “Lover’s Complaint,” l. 37, are “favours of amber,” and also of “crystal, and of beaded jet.”
Coming to the really precious stones, sapphire finds a single mention, also in the “Lover’s Complaint,” l. 215, where it is termed “heaven-hued.” The same poem says of the diamond that it was “beautiful and hard”‘ (l. 211), thus symbolizing a heartless beauty. More interesting are the following lines regarding the emerald (213, 214): The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend.
This proves the poet’s familiarity with the idea that gazing on an emerald benefited weak sight, an idea expressed as far back as 300 B.C. by Theophrastus, a pupil of Aristotle, and repeated by the Roman Pliny in 75 A.D. The “Lover’s Complaint” furnishes another pretty line (198) contrasting the different beauties of rubies and pearls: Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood. In “Venus and Adonis,” honey-tongued Shakespeare writes of a “ruby-colored portal.” Pearls are noted six times, usually as similes for tears, and tears are likened to “pearls in glass” (“Venus and Adonis,” 1. 980). A tender glass line is that in the “Passionate Pilgrim” (hardly from Shakespeare’s hand, however): Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded.
More varied are the allusions to rock-crystal or crystal, as the poet calls it. In one place (“Venus and Adonis,” l. 491) there are “crystal tears,” and these form “a crystal tide” that flows down the cheeks and drops in the bosom (Idem, 1. 957). On the other hand, the eyes are likened to this stone, as in “crystal eyne” (“Venus and Adonis,” 1. 633), or crystal eyes (Sonnet xlvi, 1. 6). There are also “crystal favours,”5 “crystal gate”6 and “crystal walls,”7 the two characteristics of brilliancy and transparency suggesting these uses of the term.
The emeralds of Shakespeare’s age had been brought from Peru by the Spaniards and had originally come from Colombian mines, such as those at Muzo, which are still worked in our day. The location of some of the early deposits here appears to have been lost sight of since the Spanish Conquest. The emeralds of Greek and Roman times, and of the Middle Ages, came from Mount Zabara (Gebel Zabara), near the Red Sea coast, east of Assuan, where traces of the old workings were found in 1817; these mines were reopened by order of Mehemet Ali, and were worked for a brief period by Mons. F. Cailliaud.
There can be no doubt that Shakespeare must have seen many fine jewels and glittering gems in pageants and processions during his residence in London. On certain special occasions the players were summoned to assist at royal functions, provision being made by the royal treasury for rich materials to be used in making special doublets and mantles for wear on these occasions. It has been suggested that the rich jewelling of many of the court portraits by Holbein and others must have impressed the poet by their wealth of color spread before his eyes; but it is nowise sure that he ever had special opportunity to closely examine such portraits, the smaller details of which may not have interested him greatly. While it is not unlikely that some of the royal or noble ladies who attended the performances of Shakespeare’s plays, while he was connected with the Globe Theatre, wore brilliant jewels, it is improbable that they were bedecked with the most valuable of their gems. The danger of being waylaid and robbed was much greater in those days than it is to-day, and it was probably only within palace or castle doors, or at some great State function, that the costliest jewels were worn. Hence nothing distantly approaching the rather excessive splendor of a New York or London opera night could ever have dazzled the poet-actor’s eyes. In the case of plays acted before the court, however, the royal and noble ladies, undoubtedly, wore many of their finest jewels, as did also the sovereign and courtiers. Still, preoccupied as Shakespeare must have been with the presentation, or representation of the dramatic performance, he probably had little time or inclination to devote especial attention to these jewels. No museum collections, properly so called, existed in Shakespeare’s day, from which he could have acquired any closer knowledge of precious stones or gems, although the conception of a great modern museum of art and science found expression in the “New Atlantis,” of his great contemporary, Lord Bacon. The modest beginnings of the Royal Society of London, founded in 1662, cannot be traced back beyond 1645. The French Academy of Sciences, founded in 1666, was preceded by earlier informal meetings of French scientists, to which allusion is even made by Lord Bacon, who died in 1626. The Berlin Academy came much later, in 1700, and the St. Petersburg Academy was first established in 1725 by Catherine I, widow of Peter the Great.
One society, the Academia Secretorum Naturæ of Naples, goes back to 1560, and the Accademia dei Lincei of Prince Federico Cesi was founded at Rome in 1603. But of these Shakespeare could have known little or nothing. That the poet knew, more or less vaguely, of America as a source of precious stones, as were the Indies, comes out in the farcical lines from The Comedy of Errors (Act iii, sc. 2), when one of the Dromios, in locating the various lands of the world on parts of his mistress’s body, to the query of Antipholus: “Where America, the Indies?” replies: “Oh, sir, upon her nose, all o’er embellished with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires.” This is the only mention of America in the plays. A coincidence having its own significance is that April 23, the day of Shakespeare’s death and also his birthday, was the day dedicated to St. George, the patron saint of Merry England. The war-cry of England is given several times by Shakespeare, as, for example:
Cry, God for Harry, England and Saint George! Henry V, Act iii, sc. 1. First Folio, “Histories,” p. 77, col. B, line 51. God and Saint George! Richmond and Victory! Richard III, Act v, sc. 3. First Folio, “Histories,” p. 203, col. A, line 31.
And in I Henry VI (Act i, sc. 1) we read: Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, To keep our great Saint George’s feast withal. First Folio, “Histories,” p. 97, col. B, line 97.
We find no trace in Shakespeare’s works of any belief in the many quaint and curious superstitions current in his day regarding the talismanic or curative virtues of precious stones. This is quite in keeping with the thoroughly sane outlook upon life that constituted the strong foundation of his incomparable mind. Not but that, like every true poet, the sense of mystery, and even the vague impression of the existence of occult powers, of the “Unknowable in Nature, was strongly developed, but this is always in a broad and earnest spirit, far removed from all petty superstition. Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry VI, sacrificed her heart and diamond jewel, as a symbol of her sorrow and her love, when a tempest beat back the ship that was bearing her from the continent to the English coast. Her act, as described in the following verses, seems almost an attempt to propitiate the storm (II Henry VI, Act iii, sc. 2): When from thy shore the tempest beat us back, I stood upon the hatches in the storm,
And when the dusky sky began to rob My earnest-gaping sight of thy land’s view, 1 took a costly jewel from my neck, A heart it was, bound in with diamonds, And threw it towards thy land: the sea received it, And so I wish’d thy body might my heart. First Folio, “Histories,” p. 134, col. A, lines 41-48.
The idea of the sacredness of a ring as a love-token is voiced by Portia in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice where she says (Act v, sc. 1): I gave my love a ring and made him swear Never to part with it; and here he stands; I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth That the world masters. First Folio, “Comedies,” p. 183, col. B, lines 12-16.
The nearest approach to a sentimental characterization of precious stones is to be found in “A Lover’s Complaint,” lines 204-217. Although we have already noted most of them separately, it may be well to give the entire passage here consecutively:
And, lo, behold these talents of their hair, With twisted metal amorously impleach’d, I have received from many a several fair. Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech’d With the annexions of fair gems enrich’d, And deep-brain’d sonnets that did amplify Each stone’s dear nature, worth, and quality. The diamond, —why, ‘twas beautiful and hard, Whereto his invised8 properties did tend; The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend With objects manifold: each several stone, With wit well blazon’d, smiled or made some moan.
Had Shakespeare felt much interest in the lore of gems, he had before him most of the then available material in a book of which he seems to have made some use.9 This was an English rendering of the “De Proprietatibus Rerum” of Bartholomæus Anglicus (fl. ca. 1350), by Stephan Batman, or Bateman (d. 1587), an English divine and poet, who in the later years of his life was chaplain and librarian to the famous Archbishop Parker, and thus had free access to the latter’s fine library. His rendering, published in 1582, bears the following quaint title: “Batman uppon Bartholome his Book De Proprietatibus Rerum”; it was published in 1582, and appears to have been widely read in England among those still interested in the learning of the scholastic period. A much earlier English version, made by John of Trevisa in 1396, was published by Wynkyn de Worde in 1495, and is considered to be the finest production of his press.10
A rarely noted source for some of Shakespeare’s knowledge regarding curious customs has been sought in the rambling treatise on heraldry written by Gerard Legh and issued, in 1564, under the title: “Accedens of Armorie” (approximately, Introduction to Heraldry). This is cast in the form of a dialogue between Gerard the Herehaught (Herold) and the Caligat Knight, the latter term designating an inferior kind of knight with no claim to nobility; indeed, an old writer renders it “a souldior on foot.” The writer manages to weave in much material slightly or not at all connected with his main theme. Legh was the son of a Fleet Street draper. He seems to have studied a variety of subjects and gathered together many scraps of curious information. He died of the plague, October 13, 1563. His book went through several editions during Shakespeare’s lifetime. Following the first edition of 1562 came successive ones in 1576, 1591, 1597, and one bearing the imprint of J. Jaggard in 1616. The author is believed to have been intentionally obscure in his treatment of heraldic questions lest he might earn the ill-will of the College of Arms by violating certain of their privileges. While both Shakespeare and his great contemporary Cervantes died on April 23 of the year 1616, it strangely happens that Cervantes had been dead ten days when Shakespeare expired. This apparent paradox is due to the fact that while in Spain the Gregorian calendar had already been introduced, the “Old Style,” or Julian reckoning, was still used in England; indeed, it was not totally abandoned until 1752, in the reign of George II, 170 years after the first use of the Gregorian reckoning on the Continent. In the seventeenth century the error to be corrected amounted to ten days, so that Shakespeare’s death, under the New Style, occurred on May 3, while Cervantes died on April 13 of the Old Style. In commemoration of the Tercentenary of Shakespeare’s death, the Shakespearean scholar, Miss H. C. Bartlett, prepared for the New York Public Library an exhibition of Shakespearean books, including all the early editions of the quartos; the various editions of the folios; the works of contemporaneous authors whom Shakespeare had consulted; and also the early works that mention Shakespeare, or cite from his plays or poems, including Greene’s “Groat’s Worth of Wit,” published in 1592 by Henry Chettle and containing the earliest printed allusion to Shakespeare under the name of “Shake-scene.” One of the contemporary books containing citations from Shakespeare’s works, shown at the New York Public Library, is “The Woman Hater,” by Francis Beaumont (?1585-1615 or 1616), printed in 1607.11 The citation, from Hamlet, Act i, sc. 5,12 is apropos of the disappearance of a “fish head.” It is put into the mouths of two of the characters, as follows:
Lazarello. Speak, I am bound to hear.
Count. So art thou to revenge when thou shalt hear.
In the spacious hall of the beautiful Hispanic Museum in New York City there has recently been displayed, in commemoration of the tercentenary of Cervantes’s death, an exceptionally fine collection of editions of his works and of rare plates illustrating episodes from them. Notable among the books was a first edition of his earliest published poems, four redondillas, a copla and an elegy, on the death, October 3, 1568, of Elizabeth de Valois, third wife of Philip II, and sister of Charles IX of France.13 Dark rumors were afloat for some time that she had been poisoned by order of her husband. Among the other treasures in the Hispanic Museum exhibition was the earliest imprint of Cervantes’s masterpiece, the immortal “Don Quixote.” This was printed in Madrid, in 1605, by Juan de la Cuesta. A rather attractive bit of verse, purporting to have been written by Shakespeare and dedicated to the woman who became his wife in 1582, when he was but eighteen years old (she was eight years his senior), alludes in its third stanza “to the orient list” of gems, diamond, topaz, amethyst, emerald, and ruby. This little poem, with its play upon the lady-love’s name, can find a place here, although many readers are already familiar with it.
TO THE IDOL OF MINE EYES AND THE DELIGHT OF MINE HEART, ANNE HATHAWAY.
Would ye be taught, ye feathered throng,
With love’s sweet notes to grace your song,
To pierce the heart with thrilling lay,
Listen to mine Anne Hathaway!
She hath a way to sing so clear,
Phœbus might wond’ring stop to hear;
To melt the sad, make blithe the gay,
And nature charm, Anne hath a way:
She hath a way,
Anne Hathaway,
To breathe delight Anne hath a way.
When envy’s breath and rancorous tooth
Do soil and bite fair worth and truth,
And merit to distress betray,
To soothe the heart Anne hath a way;
She hath a way to chase despair,
To heal all grief, to cure all care,
Turn foulest night to fairest day:
Thou know’st, fond heart, Anne hath a way,
She hath a way,
Anne Hathaway,
To make grief bliss Anne hath a way.
Talk not of gems, the orient list,
The diamond, topaz, amethyst,
The emerald mild, the ruby gay;
Talk of my gem, Anne Hathaway!
She hath a way, with her bright eye,
Their various lustre to defy,
The jewel she and the foil they,
So sweet to look Anne hath a way.
She hath a way,
Anne Hathaway,
To make grief bliss Anne hath a way.
But were it to my fancy given
To rate her charms, I’d call them Heaven;
For though a mortal made of clay,
Angels must love Anne Hathaway.
She hath a way so to control
To rupture the imprisoned soul,
And sweetest Heaven on earth display,
That to be Heaven Anne hath a way!
She hath a way
Anne Hathaway,
To be Heaven’s self Anne hath a way.
This little poem is by Charles Dibdin (1748-1814), the writer of about 1200 sea-songs, at one time great favorites with sailors. It appeared, in 1792, in his long-forgotten novel, “Hannah Hewit, or the Female Crusoe,” and Sir Sidney Lee conjectures that it may have been composed on the occasion of the Stratford jubilee of 1769, in the organization of which Dibdin aided the great actor, David Garrick. In the “Poems of Places,” New York, 1877, edited by Henry W. Longfellow, this poem is assigned to Shakespeare on the strength of a persistent popular error.14 In his “Life” Dibdin says: “My songs have been the solace of sailors in their long voyages, in storms, in battle; and they have been quoted in mutinies to the restoration of order and discipline.” It has been asserted that they brought more men into the navy than all the press gangs could do. The poem has sometimes been attributed to Edmund Falconer (1814-1879), an actor and dramatist, born in Dublin, and whose real name was Edmund O’Rourke. However, his poem entitled “Anne Hathaway, A Traditionary Ballad sung to a Day Dreamer by the Mummers of Shottery Brook,”15 falls far below the lines we have quoted in poetic quality, as may be seen from the opening stanza (the best), which runs as follows:
No beard on thy chin, but a fire in thine eye,
With lustiest Manhood’s in passion to vie,
A stripling in form, with a tongue that can make
The oldest folks listen, maids sweethearts forsake,
Hie over the fields at the first blush of May,
And give thy boy’s heart unto Anne Hathaway.
In none of the allusions to precious stones made by Shakespeare is there any indication that he had in mind any of the Biblical passages treating of gems. The most notable of these are the enumeration of the twelve stones in Aaron’s breast-plate (Exodus xxviii, 17-20, xxxix, 10-13), the list of the foundation stones and gates of the New Jerusalem given by John in Revelation (xxi, 19-21), and the description of the Tyrian king’s “covering” in Ezekiel (xxviii, 130). Had the poet given any particular attention to these texts we could scarcely fail to note the fact. Other Bible mentions, such as those elsewhere made by Ezekiel (xxvii, 16, 22), regarding the trade of Tyre, the agates (and coral) from Syria, and the precious stones brought by the Arabian or Syrian merchants of Sheba and Raamah, are too much generalized to invite any special notice. The same may be said of most of the remaining brief allusions. We might rather expect that where the color or brilliancy of a precious stone is used as a simile this might strike a poet’s fancy and perhaps find direct expression in his own words. The light of the New Jerusalem is likened to “a jasper stone, clear as crystal” (Rev. xxi, 11), and in Exodus (xxiv, 10) the sapphire stone is said to be “as it were the body of heaven in its clearness.” However, that Shakespeare wrote of “the heaven-hued sapphire” (“Lover’s Complaint,” l. 215) has no necessary connection with this, as the celestial hue of the beautiful sapphire is spoken of time and again by many of the older writers. It should be borne in mind that the great English translation of the Bible, popularly called “King James’ Bible,” was published only after Shakespeare had completed his last play in 1611. Before that time, dating from Tyndale’s version of 1525, and in great measure based on it, a number of English translations had appeared, the most authoritative in Shakespeare’s time being perhaps the “Bishops’ Bible,” printed under the patronage of Queen Elizabeth in 1568, and edited by the Archbishop of Canterbury. The Geneva Bible of 1560, the first entire Bible in English in which the division into chapters and verses was carried out, had, however, the widest dissemination in Shakespeare’s time, and a careful study of passages in his works referable to Biblical texts appears to prove that this version was the one with which he was most familiar. His plays testify to his close knowledge of the Scriptures, although no writer is less fettered by purely doctrinal considerations. The Geneva Bible went through no less than sixty editions in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, and even after the issue of the “Authorized Version” in 1611 it competed successfully with this for a time. That Shakespeare may have seen Philemon Holland’s (1552-1637) excellent translation of Pliny is nowise unlikely. A notable passage in his Othello seems in any case to indicate that it was suggested by Pliny’s words (Bk. II, chap. 97, in Holland’s version): And the sea Pontus evermore floweth and runneth out into Propontic, but the sea never retireth backe againe within Pontus.
Othello replies thus to Iago’s conjecture that he may change his mind (Act iii, sc. 3): Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne’er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne’er look back, ne’er ebb to humble love. First Folio, “Tragedies,” p. 326, col. B, lines 34-39.
There is, however, no trace of any familiarity on Shakespeare’s part with the precious stone lore of the Roman encyclopædist, either from the Latin text of his great “ Historia Naturalis,” or from the translation published by Holland in 1601. This translator, who Englished many of the chief Latin and Greek authors, Suetonius, Livy, Ammianus Marcellinus, Plutarch’s “Morals” and other works, was pronounced by Fuller, in his “Worthies,” to be “translator general in his age,” adding that “these books alone of his turning into English will make a country gentleman a competent library.” For his Ammianus Marcellinus the Council of Coventry, his place of residence, paid him £4, and £5 for a translation of Camden’s “Britannia” —small sums, indeed, for so much labor, but not so unreasonable when we think that a half-century later the immortal Milton got but £5 for his “Paradise Lost.” He was a Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, where he had studied and graduated; later he studied medicine, receiving a degree of M.D., not from Oxford or Cambridge, however, but either from a Scottish or foreign university. Although Solinus, writing in the third century A.D., relies mainly upon Pliny for his information on precious stones, still he here and there gives evidence of a more critical spirit, as when he says of the rock-crystal that the theory according to which it was frozen and hardened water was necessarily incorrect, for it was to be found in such mild climates as “Alabanda in Asia and the island of Cyprus.”16 This is the more notable that the wholly incorrect view persisted into the sixteenth century, so learned a writer as Lord Bacon (d. 1626) restating it in his last work, “Sylva Sylvarum.” One of the most curious gem-treatises, especially as a source of early sixteenth-century beliefs in the magic properties of precious stones, the “Speculum Lapidum” of Camillo Leonardo, published in Venice, 1502, probably never came under Shakespeare’s eye. Indeed, even in Italy it seems to have been so neglected that Ludovico Dolci ventured to publish a literal Italian version of the Latin original as his own work in 1565. The English “Mirror of Stones,” issued in 1750, is frankly stated to be a translation of the Latin original bearing the same name.17 In Marlowe’s (1564-1593) “Hero and Leander,” almost certainly written before Shakespeare’s “Venus and Adonis” (1593), although not published until 1598, five years after Marlowe’s death, “pearl tears” and the “sparkling diamond” are used much in the same way as by Shakespeare, as appears in the following verses: Forth from those two translucent cisterns brake A stream of liquid pearl, which down her face Made milk-white paths. Lines 296-298.
Why should you worship her! her you surpass As much as sparkling diamonds flaring glass. Lines 213, 214.
There is a curious parallelism between a passage in Troilus and Cressida, 1609, and one in Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus, 1588. Marlowe wrote (sc. 14, l. 83): Was this the face that launched a thousand ships And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
This is followed very closely by Shakespeare, with the substitution of “pearl” for “lace.” She [Helen] is a pearl, Whose price hath launch’d above a thousand ships. Troilus and Cressida, Act ii, sc. 2, l. 82. First Folio, at end of “Histories,” unnumbered page (596 of facsimile), col. A, line 19.
The greatest of the world’s poets lived in a period midway between the highest development of Renaissance civilization and the foundation of our modern civilization, and he was thus at once heir to the rich treasures of a glorious past, and endowed with a poetic, or we might say a prophetic insight that makes his works appeal as closely to the readers of to-day as to those of his own time. In the four leading European nations of the age—Italy, despite her high rank in art, still lacked national unity—four sovereigns of marked though widely diverse character and attainments reigned for a considerable part of Shakespeare’s life. Of the “Virgin Queen” we scarcely need to write. The England of her day, and of later days, would not have been what it was and what it became, without the aid of her mingled shrewdness and prudence. Faults she had and shortcomings, but, granted the almost overpowering difficulties she had to face, both at home and abroad, it is doubtful whether a more decided, a more straight-forward policy would have been as successful as the somewhat devious one she pursued. Her chief rival, Philip II (1556-1598), as much averse as Elizabeth herself to energetic action, even more fond of procrastination, lacked her relative religious and political tolerance, and left Spain weaker than he had found it. And still his tenacity, his devotion to the cause he believed to be that of heaven, his consistency, and even the gloomy seriousness of his life, testify to a strong soul, though a thoroughly unlovable one. The reign of the eccentric Rudolph II, Emperor of Germany (1576-1612), whose imperial residence was at Prague, covers the greater part of Shakespeare’s life. In spite of many failings and mistakes, this monarch did much to foster the study of the arts and sciences of his age, so far as he was able to understand them. That he was for a time the dupe of adventurers and alchemists, such as the half-visionary John Dee and the altogether unscrupulous Edward Kelley, was no unusual experience in those days, when the dividing line between true science and charlatanism was too indistinctly marked to be easily discernible. The greatest of all the sovereigns of Shakespeare’s time was Henry IV of France, unquestionably the greatest of French kings, despite the fact that the primacy has often been accorded to the Roi Soleil, Louis XIV. The powerful and ductile personality that was able to put an end to the destructive religious wars of France and to lay a firm foundation for the strongly-centralized power of a later time, a foundation which the great statesman Richelieu broadened and deepened, deserves all the credit that should be given to those who conquer the first apparently insurmountable difficulties in the realization of a great aim. How brief was the reign of most of the popes of this time is shown by the fact that no less than ten of them were at one time or other Shakespeare’s contemporaries, although the duration of his life was but fifty-two years. Of these probably the most noteworthy was Gregory XIII (1572-1585), in whose reign occurred the fearful Massacre of St. Bartholomew, August 24, 1572, and the reform of the calendar from that known as the Julian to the new style named the Gregorian Calendar in honor of this pope. In the East, just coming into closer commercial intercourse with Europe, the long reign of the greatest of the Mogul emperors, Jelal-ed-din Akbar (1556-1605), began two years before the accession of Elizabeth and lasted two years after her death. Probably no Oriental sovereign, certainly no Indian sovereign, ranks higher than Akbar, who was at once a great statesman, an able organizer, and singularly tolerant in religion. In Persia, one of the most marked rulers of this land, Abbas the Great, began to reign in 1584 and died in 1628. In no period was jewelry worn more ornately, or with greater display, we might almost say ostentation, than in the age of Shakespeare. As a rule, in this period the precious stones were less considered than the elaborate goldsmith work in which they were placed. They were the adjuncts, rather than the principal glory of the jewel. The court jeweller of James VI of Scotland and of this monarch after his accession to the English throne, as James I, was George Heriot (ca. 1563-1624), born in Edinburgh, the son of a member of the company of goldsmiths in that city. As the Scotch goldsmiths cumulated the profession of money-lending with that of goldsmithing, they were usually persons of considerable account among the citizens. Heriot became a member of the company in 1588, the year of the Spanish Armada. Despite the rather straitened circumstances of the Scottish court, considerable amounts were expended for jewels, especially as the queen, Anne of Denmark, was very fond of display. The nobility also, such of them at least as possessed the means, were inclined to deck themselves out with brilliant jewels and splendid ornaments of massive gold. Heriot’s appointment as goldsmith to the queen dates from 1597; soon after this he was made jeweller and goldsmith to the king. He followed the court to London in 1603, when King James succeeded to Elizabeth, and at the time of his death, February 12, 1624, had amassed the sum of £50,000 by his profitable connection with the court, and had also acquired lands and houses at Rochampton, in Surrey, and St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, London. His residuary estate, which amounted to £23,625 ($118,125), he entrusted to the provosts, bailiffs, ministers, and ordinary town-council of Edinburgh for the erection of an institution to be called Heriot’s Hospital, where a number of poor freemen’s sons of the town should be educated.18 This foundation still exists, and the excellent management of those who have had to do with the endowment is shown by the fact that the income it now produces equals the whole sum of the original bequest. This great Scotch goldsmith fashioned a number of splendid rings for the queen. An old account furnished by Heriot lists them as follows:19 A ring with a heart and serpent, all set about with diamonds; A ring with a single diamond, set in a heart betwixt two hands; A great ring in the form of a perssed hand and a perssed eye, all set with diamonds; One great ring, in forme of a frog, all set with diamonds, price two-hundreth poundis; A ring of a burning heart set with diamondis; A ring in the forme af a scallope shell, set with a table diamond, and opening on the head; A ring of a love trophe set with diamondis; Two rings, lyke black flowers, with a table diamond in each; A daissie ring sett with a table diamond; A ryng sett all over with diamondis, made in fashion of a lizard, 120 l.; A ring set with 9 diamonds, and opening on the head with the King’s picture in that. Heriot also lists a ring delivered about 1607 to Margaret Hartsyde, one of the royal household, describing it as “sett all about with diamondis, and a table diamond on the head”; that is, in the bezel. He states that he had been given to understand that this was by direction of Her Majesty. His precaution in making this note appears to have been fully justified, for this Margaret Hartsyde was tried in Edinburgh, May 31, 1608, on the charge of having purloined a pearl belonging to the queen and valued at £110. Her excuse was that she had taken this and other pearls to adorn dolls for the amusement of the royal children, and that she did not expect the queen would ask for them. As, however, it was brought out in the trial that she had cleverly disguised some of the pearls she had taken, and had offered to sell them to the queen, she was condemned to imprisonment in Blackness Castle until the payment of a fine of £400, and to confinement in Orkney during the remainder of her life. Eleven years later, however, the king’s advocate “produced a letter of rehabilitation and restitution of Margaret Hartsyde to her fame.”20 In Shakespeare’s day the “goldsmiths” were also jewellers and gem dealers, and often moneylenders as well. The settings of the finest precious stones were at that time generally of gold, rarely of silver. Platinum, the metal that now enjoys the greatest furore for diamond settings, was then unknown in Europe; it was first brought to Europe in 1735, from South America, having been found in the alluvial deposits of the river Pinto, in the district of Choco, now forming part of the United States of Colombia. The Spaniards had named it platina, from its resemblance to plata, silver. The chief source in our time is Russia, the richest deposits being those discovered in 1825, on the Iss, a tributary of the Tura, in the Urals. Other valuable deposits are in the district of Nizhni-Tagilsk. Platinum also occurs in Brazil, California, and British Columbia, associated with gold, as well as in Borneo, New South Wales, Australia, and in New Zealand. Its use in gem-mountings began about 1870, and from 1880 onward it has become more and more favored, until now it has almost entirely superseded gold in the finest jewelry, especially for diamond settings. Long before the metal was known and used in Europe, ornamental use of it was made in South America, in the district we have mentioned, the material not being fused, but simply forged out of the nuggets found in the deposits. That but few fine diamonds were in Europe when Shakespeare wrote has already been noted; indeed, the annual importation from India, then the only source, can hardly have exceeded $100,000 on an average, while at the present day the value of the diamonds from the great African mines imported into Europe and America amounts to from $40,000,000 to $60,000,000 each year. In King James’s reign, besides Heriot, William Herrick (brother of Nicolas) and John Spilman were appointed jewellers to the king, queen, and prince, the annual emoluments being £50 annually. It is stated that Herrick furnished jewels worth £36,000 to Queen Anne of Denmark. Such of her many jewels as were to be found when she died are said to have been left to her son, later Charles I, and none to her daughter Elizabeth, later Queen of Bohemia and ancestress of many of the sovereigns of Europe, as well as of the present reigning house in England. Unfortunately for her heir, a great part of the jewels had been embezzled, and could not be recovered, although models of many had been carefully preserved by William Herrick, who swore that the originals had been delivered to the queen. Less notable jewellers of King James’s day were Philip Jacobson, Arnold Lulls, John Acton, and John Williams. One of them, Arnold Lulls, has left a fine set of contemporary drawings representing jewels of the epoch; these are now to be seen in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London. As an instance of the value of some of the jewels of his design, it is recorded that the sum of £1550 was paid for a diamond jewel with pearl pendants and two dozen buttons, furnished to the king to be bestowed upon the queen at the christening of the Princess Mary in 1605.21 While the jeweller’s art in England was still under the influence of foreign goldsmiths in Elizabeth’s time, it had to a considerable extent emancipated itself from foreign control in the latter part of her reign and in that of her successor. In addition to George Heriot, whom we have just noticed, several others are well worthy of mention, such as Dericke Anthony, Affabel Partridge, Peter Trender, and Nicolas Herrick,22 the father of the poet Robert Herrick, who makes many a telling use of the colors and charm of precious stones and pearls in his dainty poems. To these must be added Sir John Spilman, of German birth, who made many jewels at the royal command. We should remember that for the cutting of precious stones steam-power was not then available, “man-power” being employed. A large turning wheel was pushed around by a man holding a bar extending from it. The motion of this large wheel was transmitted to other smaller ones. The number of revolutions per minute hardly exceeded a few hundred, while in modern times a speed of from 2000 to 2500 revolutions per minute is attained. The diamond cutting industry was largely in the hands of Jews in Lisbon. The gem-cutting processes were not greatly modified for many years after Shakespeare’s death, so that a representation of the wheel and mill used in 1750 gives a fairly good general idea of the modus operandi. The large wooden wheel whose axis is the second pillar within the frame, is bent, and makes an elbow under the wheel to receive the impulsion of a bar that serves instead of a turn-handle. On the right side of the frame, where the boy stands, is the turn-handle which sets the wheel in motion by means of the elbow of its axis. So that if the wooden wheel be twenty times larger than the iron one, a hundred turns of the larger wheel will cause a thousand revolutions of the smaller one. The method of holding the diamond in place over the iron wheel, when in motion, so that it presses upon the latter and is polished thereby, is shown in the lower right-hand corner of the plate. The German traveller, Paul Hentzner, who visited England in 1598, toward the end of Elizabeth’s life, describes her jewelling in the following words: “The Queen had in her ears two pearls with very rich drops; she wore false hair and that red; upon her head she had a small crown; her bosom was uncovered, and she had on a necklace of exceedingly fine jewels. She was dressed in white silk, bordered with pearls of the size of beans, and over it a mantle of black silk shot with silver threads; her train was very long. Instead of a chain, she had an oblong collar of gold and jewels.” In addition to this display the traveller tells us that the queen’s right hand was fairly sparkling with jewelled rings. Aside from his portrayal of jewels in his numerous portraits, Holbein ranked as the master designer of jewels in his day. Many of the finest of these designs have been preserved for us and can be seen in the British Museum, to which they were bequeathed by Sir Hans Sloane in 1753. There are 179 separate pieces, usually pen-and-ink sketches. The execution of the jewels from these designs is believed to have been mainly done by Hans of Antwerp, known as Hans Anwarpe, a friend of Holbein, who settled in London in 1514, and was appointed goldsmith to King Henry VIII, for whom he produced many jewels for New Year’s gifts.23
In judging of the jewels figured in portraits we must remember that the artist has often modified them to bring them into greater harmony with their immediate surroundings. This, in some cases, may lead him to make of a somewhat inartistically designed jewel a beautifully proportioned one. Again, he may be led to exaggerate the size of the precious stones or pearls, and to intensify or deepen their colors. A recent instance regards a portrait of the former queen of Spain by one of the foremost Spanish artists of our day. The royal lady was depicted wearing an enormous pearl; however, the artist informed the author that the real pearl was much smaller than the painted one, but that, in portraying it, a better decorative effect was obtained by increasing its size. Whether Holbein (1497-1543), with his Dutch exactness of portrayal, was led into any similar exaggerations we can never tell, as little as we can know anything definite regarding the true size of the jewels shown in the portraits by the Italian Zucchero (1529-1566), the Fleming Lucas de Heere (1524-1584), or by any other of the portrait painters of Elizabeth’s time. In a very modest way the addition of gilded scarf-pins, brooches, chains, etc., not owned by the sitters, was not uncommonly practised thirty or forty years ago, when colored tintypes were popular. These were painted on the photographs, much to the gratification of those who ordered them for distribution among their friends. The court-jewellers of France in Shakespeare’s day rivalled, though they did not excel, those of England. Among them a prominent place belongs to François Dujardin (or Desjardin), goldsmith of Charles IX (1560-1574) and Henri III (1574-1589). When a verification and an inventory of the French Crown Jewels were made on August 1, 1574, after the death of Charles IX, the expert examination was entrusted to François Dujardin, who is termed “orfebvre et lapidaire du Roy.” The goldsmith’s art was passed down from father to son in this family: a second F. Dujardin (b. ca. 1565) mounted the parures made for Elizabeth of Austria, daughter of Henri IV and Maria de’ Medici. In the reign of Henri IV and the succeeding regency of Maria de’ Medici, Josse de Langerac, received as master goldsmith in 1594, and the brothers Rogier, are noted as leading goldsmiths who, besides executing many fine jewels, frequently made loans of money to the Queen Regent, and seem to have experienced great difficulty in securing full payment. Corneille Rogier set the jewels worn at her marriage by Anne d’Autriche, wife of Louis XIII. Two brothers, each bearing the name Pierre Courtois, are also noted in old records. One of them, at the time of his death, in 1611, occupied two apartments with two shops in the Louvre; the shop of the other had the sign “Aux Trois Roys,” probably referring to the “Three Kings of the East,” the Magi of the Gospel, very appropriate patrons for goldsmiths.24 Thierry Badouer, a German goldsmith-jeweller, received from the French court, in 1572, an order for 250,000 crowns’ worth of jewels to be distributed as gifts at the approaching marriage of Henri de Navarre with Marguerite de Valois. He faithfully executed his part of the task and brought the jewels with him to Paris, but before he had been able to deliver them to the Royal Treasury they were stolen from him during the confusion of the St. Bartholomew Massacre. Eventually, in the reign of Henri IV, his widow was partly reimbursed for the loss, receiving one-quarter of the amount of her claim.25
After the Massacre of St.Bartholomew, and as a result of it, many Protestants and Catholics left France for Hanau, Germany, where to this day they carry on the jeweller’s art; and from this beginning Hanau became a jeweller’s centre. The best reproduction of the First Folio of 1623 is the photographic facsimile, made in 1902, of the copy formerly owned by the Duke of Devonshire and now in the possession of Henry E. Huntington of New York.26 The original Folio, prepared by the managers of Shakespeare’s company, John Heminge and Henry Condell, bears the imprint of Isaac Jaggard and Edward Blount, the printing house being conducted by William Jaggard and his son Isaac. It is believed that an edition of five hundred copies was issued, at one pound per copy. That the publication was essentially a commercial venture, although it may also have been a labor of love for some of the editors, is brought out clearly and quaintly in the preface addressed to “The great Variety of Readers,” and signed by Heminge and Condell. This reads that the book was printed at the charges of W. Jaggard, Ed. Blount, I. Southweeke, and W. Apsley, 1623. The following passage from the preface is well worth quoting, its spirit is so delightfully modern:
The fate of all Bookes depends upon your capacities, and not of your heads alone, but of your purses. Well! It is now publique, & you wil stand for your priviledges, wee know: to read, and censure.27 Do so, but buy it first. That doth best commend a Booke the Stationer saies. Then, how odde soever your braines be, or your wisdomes, make your license the same and spare not…But whatever you do, Buy. Censure will not drive a Trade, nor make the Jacke go.
The chief credit for bringing together the materials for the First Folio, in 1623, is believed to be due to William Jaggard. Some ten years earlier he had acquired the printing-privileges of certain of the quartos. Edward Blount, whose name appears as publisher on the title page with that of Isaac Jaggard, was merely a stationer, so that the actual printing was solely under the charge of the latter, who seems, at this time, to have been entrusted with this department of the business. However, Blount’s services may have been valuable since he had better literary taste than the Jaggards possessed. In spite of certain evident faults of proportion, the portrait of Shakespeare engraved by Martin Droeshout for the title page of the 1623 Folio bears internal evidence of being a fairly good likeness, for the face possesses a marked individuality. There is a belief that it was taken from the so-called “Flower” portrait, now in the Shakespeare Memorial Gallery at Stratford-upon-Avon, and which is conjectured to have been painted in 1609, at least during Shakespeare’s lifetime, possibly by another Martin Droeshout, a Fleming, uncle of the engraver of the same name. This portrait was discovered. painted on a panel at Peckham Rye, bearing the inscription “Will Shakespearen, 1609.” That it should be the original from which the Droeshout engraving was taken has been doubted, since it appears rather to resemble later states of the plate than earlier ones. While Ben Jonson, who had seen Shakespeare so often, may have been partly moved to bestow undue praise upon the Folio portrait, in the lines he furnished the publishers to be placed immediately facing it, by his wish to say a good word for their publication. he would scarcely have made use of such superlative terms had he not considered it to be at least a fairly good likeness. Jonson’s lines have been so often printed that few are unacquainted with them, but as illustrating the above remarks they can be repeated here, in the old spelling and form of the First Folio:
TO THE READER.
This Figure, that thou here seest put, It was for gentle Shakespeare cut; Wherein the Graver has a strife With Nature, to out-doo the life: O, could he but have drawne his wit As well in brasse, as he hath hit His face; the Print would then surpasse All, that was ever writ in brasse. But, since he cannot, Reader, looke Not on his Picture, but his Booke. B. I.
A most attractive and instructive exhibition of reproductions of the portraits of Shakespeare, or supposedly of him, was shown at the rooms of the Grolier Club, April 6-29, 1916. The catalogue28 embraces 436 numbers, illustrating all the principal types. The exhibition also comprised the principal editions of the poet’s plays, from the First Folio of 1623 to the great Variorum Edition by Dr. Furness, begun in 1871. For the Tercentenary of Shakespeare’s birth, celebrated in April, 1864, a special commemorative medal was struck in England, designed by Mr. J. Moore. The obverse shows a profile head of the poet, in the modelling of which the artist seems to have been chiefly influenced by the Stratford bust. This fundamental type he has not unskilfully combined with that of the Droeshout print in the First Folio, the dome-like forehead being evidently suggested by the latter. The nose is more accentuated than in the bust, and the mouth, though still small, is somewhat firmer. Toward the edge of the field are disposed the titles of his various works, as though radiating from the head, and in the exergue is his signature, framed by a half-garland over which extends a mace. The tribute offered to Shakespeare by the Muses, figured on the reverse, is a rather stiff and conventional composition.29
For those who may wish to see the original form of the passages regarding precious stones in the text of the First Folio, of 1623, the page and column references have been given here. In this text the three sections into which the plays have been divided, Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies, are separately paged; moreover, the pagination offers a number of irregularities. Troilus and Cressida, added at the end of the “Histories,” has page numbers on a couple of leaves neither connected with what precedes nor with what follows, the remainder of the pages bearing no figures; furthermore, there are several obvious, though unimportant, misprints. Pericles, first issued in Folio, in the Third Folio, of 1664, is therein separately paged, as are the other of the plays attributed to Shakespeare printed therein, in continuation of the series of the First and Second Folios. This play had, however, previously appeared six times in quarto in the years 1609, 1611, 1619, 1630, 1635 and 1639.
PRECIOUS STONES MENTIONED IN THE PLAYS OF SHAKESPEARE
DIAMOND
I see how thine eye would emulate the diamond.
Merry Wives of Windsor, Act iii, sc. 3, l. 59. “Comedies,” p. 58 [50], col. A, line 31.
DIAMOND
Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner, Or, for my diamond, the chain you promised.
Comedy of Errors, Act iv, sc, 3. l. 70. “Comedies,” p. 94, col. B, lines 61, 62.
DIAMOND
Sir, I must have that diamond from you.— There, take it. Comedy of Errors, Act v, sc. 1, l. 391. “Comedies,” p. 99, col. B, line 58.
DIAMOND
A lady walled about with diamonds! Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act v, sc. 2, l. 3. “Comedies,” p. 137, col. A, line 6.
DIAMOND
A diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! Merchant of Venice, Act iii, sc. 1, l. 87. “Comedies,” p. 173, col. A, line 62.
DIAMOND
Set this diamond safe In golden palaces, as it becomes. Henry VI, Pt. I, Act v, sc. 3, l. 169. “Histories,” p. 116, col. B, line 54.
DIAMOND
A heart it was, bound in with diamonds. Henry VI, Pt. II, Act iii, sc. 2, l. 107. “Histories,” p. 134, col. A, line 46.
DIAMOND
Not deck’d with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen. Henry VI, Pt. III, Act iii, sc. 1, l. 63. “Histories,” p. 158, col. B, line 25.
DIAMOND
One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. Timon of Athens, Act iii, sc. 6, l. 131. “Tragedies,” p. 89, col. B, line 56.
DIAMOND This diamond he greets your wife withal. Macbeth, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 15. “Tragedies,” p. 136, col. A, line 11.
DIAMOND Which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropp’d. King Lear, Act iv, sc. 3, l. 24. Omitted in First Folio. 74
Precious Stones Mentioned in Plays
DIAMOND This diamond was my mother’s; take it, heart; But keep it till you woo another wife. Cymbeline, Act 1, sc. 1, l. 112. “Tragedies,” p. 370, col. A, line 45.
DIAMOND She went before others I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld. Cymbeline, Act i, sc. 4, l. 78. Tragedies, p. 372, col. A, line 53.
DIAMOND I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady. Cymbeline, Act i, sc. 4, l. 81. Tragedies, p. 372, col. A, line 55.
DIAMOND 1 shall but lend my diamond till your return. Cymbeline, Act. i, sc. 4, l. 153. Tragedies, p. 372, col. B, line 59.
DIAMOND My ten thousand ducats are yours; so is your diamond too. Cymbeline, Act i, sc. 4, l. 163. “Tragedies,” p. 373, col. A, line 1.
DIAMOND It must be married To that your diamond. Cymbeline, Act ii, sc. 4, l. 98. “Tragedies,” p. 389 1379, col. A, lines 42, 43. 75
DIAMOND That diamond upon your finger, say, How came it yours? Cymbeline, Act v, sc. 5, l. 137. “Tragedies,” p. 396, col. A, line 51.
DIAMOND To me he seems like diamond to glass. Pericles, Act ii, sc. 3, l. 36. Third Folio, 1664, p. 7, col. B, line 38; separate pagination.
DIAMOND You shall, like diamonds, sit about his crown. Pericles, Act ii, sc. 4, l. 53. Third Folio, 1664, p. 8, col. B, line 42.
DIAMOND The diamonds of a most praised water Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Pericles, Act iii, sc. 2, l. 102. Third Folio, 1664, p. 11, col. B, line 13.
RUBY The impression of keen whips I’ld wear as rubies. Measure for Measure, Act ii, sc. 4, l. 101. “Comedies,” p. 69, col. B, line 63.
RUBY Her nose, all o’er embellished with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires. Comedy of Errors, Act iii, sc. 2, l. 138. “Comedies,” p. 92, col. A, line 49. 76
RUBY Those be rubies, fairy favors. Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 12. “Comedies,” p. 148, col. A, line 35.
RUBY Over thy wounds now do I prophesy, -Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips. Julius Cæsar, Act iii, sc.1, l. 260. “Tragedies,” p. 120, col. B, lines 34, 35.
RUBY And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, When mine is blanch’d with fear. Macbeth, Act iii, sc. 4, l. 115. Tragedies, p. 142, col. B, line 17.
RUBY But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagon’d, How dearly they do’t! Cymbeline, Act ii, sc. 2, l. 17. Tragedies, p. 376, col. B, line 18.
SAPPHIRE Like sapphire, pearl and rich embroidery. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act v, sc. 5, l. 75. “Comedies,” p. 51, col. A, line 66 (last).
SAPPHIRE Her nose, all o’er embellished with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires. Comedy of Errors, Act iii, sc. 2, l. 138. Comedies, p. 92, col. A, line 49.
CHRYSOLITE If heaven would make me such another world Of one entire and perfect chrysolite. Othello, Act v, sc. 2, l. 145. “Tragedies,” p. 337, col. A, line 5.
TURQUOISE It was my turquoise; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor. Merchant of Venice, Act iii, sc. 1, l. 126. Comedies, p. 173, col. B, line 32.
OPAL For thy mind is a very opal. Twelfth Night, Act ii, sc. 4, l. 77. “Comedies,” p. 262, col. B, line 45.
AGATE (CAMEO) An agate very vilely cut. Much Ado About Nothing, Act iii, sc. 1, l. 65. Comedies, p. 110, col. A, line 25.
AGATE (CAMEO) His heart like an agate with your print impress’d. Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 236. Comedies, p. 127, col. B, line 62 (last).
AGATE (CAMEO) 1 was never manned with an agate till now. II Henry IV, Act i, sc. 2, l. 19. Histories, p. 76, col. B, line 10.
AGATE (CAMEO) Agate-ring, pirke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue. I Henry IV, Act ii, sc. 4, l. 78. *Histories, p. 56, col. A, line 53.
AGATE (CAMEO) In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of an alderman. Romeo and Juliet, Act i, sc. 4, l. 55. Tragedies, p. 57, col. A, lines 20, 21.
AMBER Her amber hair for foul hath amber quoted. Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act iv, sc. 3, l. 87. Comedies, p. 133, col. A, line 52. A
MBER With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery. Taming of the Shrew, Act iv, sc. 3, l. 58. Comedies, p. 223, col. B, line 62.
AMBER Their eyes purging thick amber and plum-tree gum. Hamlet, Act ii, sc. 2, l. 201. gedies, p. 261, col. B, line 42.
CORAL Of his bones are coral made. The Tempest, Act i, sc. 2, l. 397. * Comedies, p. 5, col. A, line 54.
CORAL 1 saw her coral lips to move. Taming of the Shrew, Act i, sc. 1, l. 179. Comedies, p. 211, col. B, line 57.
JET There is more difference between thy flesh and hers than between jet and ivory Merchant of Venice, Act iii, sc. 1, 1. 42. Comedies, p. 173, col. A, line 18.
JET What color is my gown of?—Black, forsooth: coal-black as jet. II Henry VI, Act ii, sc.1, l. 112. “Histories,” p. 126, col. B, line 61.
JET Two proper palfreys, black as jet, To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away. Titus Andronicus, Act v, sc. 2, l. 50. Tragedies, p. 49, col. B, line 7
CARBUNCLE Her nose, all o’er embellished with rubies, carbuncles. sapphires. Comedy of Errors, Act iii, sc. 2, l. 138. “Comedies,” p. 92, col. A, line 49.
CARBUNCLE A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, Were not so rich a jewel. Coriolanus, Act 1, sc. 4, l. 55. Tragedies, p. 5, col. B, line 7.
CARBUNCLES O’er sized with coagulate gore, With eyes like carbuncles. Hamlet, Act ii, sc. ii, l. 485. “Tragedies,” p. 263, col. B, line 50.
CARBUNCLE Were it carbuncled Like holy Phœbus’ car. Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv, sc.8, l. 28. “Tragedies,” p. 360, col. B, line 57.
CARBUNCLE Had it been a carbuncle Of Phœbus’ wheel. Cymbeline, Act v, sc. 5, l. 189. “Tragedies,” p. 396, col. B, line 41.
EMERALD In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act v, sc. 5, l. 74. “Comedies,” p. 51, col. A, line 65.
PEARLS Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes. Tempest, Act 1, sc. 2, l. 398. “Comedies,” p. 5, col. A, lines 51-53.
PEARLS She is mine own, And 1 as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii, sc. 4, l. 170. Comedies, p. 26, col. B, lines 34-36.
PEARLS A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act iii, sc. 1, l. 224. * Comedies, p. 30, col. B, line 2.
PEARLS But pearls are fair; and the old saying is, Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies’ eyes Tis true; such pearls as put out ladies’ eyes. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act v, sc. 2, l. 11. “Comedies,” p. 36, col. B, lines 10-12.
PEARLS Like sapphire, pearl and rich embroidery Buckled below fair knighthood’s bending knee. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act v, sc. 5, l. 75. “Comedies,” p. 51, col. A, lines 65, 66 (last).
PEARLS Laced with silver, set with pearls. Much Ado About Nothing, Act iii, sc. 4, l. 20. *Comedies, p. 112, col. B, line 65.
PEARLS Fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine. Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act iv, sc. 2, l. 91. Comedies, p. 132, col. A, line 11.
PEARLS This and these pearls to me sent Longaville. Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act v, sc. 2, l. 53. *Comedies, p. 137, col. A, line 59. 82
PEARLS Will you have me, or your pearl again? Neither of either. Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act v, sc. 2, l. 458. Comedies, p. 140, col. B, line 58.
PEARLS Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass. Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act i, sc. 1, l. 211. Comedies, p. 147, col. A, line 6.
PEARLS 1 must go seek some dewdrops here And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 15. Comedies, p. 148, col. A, line 38.
PEARLS That same dew, which sometime on the buds Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls. Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act iv, sc. 1, l. 57. Comedies, p. 157, col. B, lines 9, 10.
PEARLS Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster. As You Like It, Act v, sc. 4, l. 63. Comedies, p. 206, col. A, line 12.
PEARLS Their harness studded all with gold and pearl. Taming of the Shrew, Introd., sc. 2, 1. 44. Comedies, p. 209, col. B, line 33.
PEARLS Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss’d with pearls Valance of Venice gold. Taming of the Shrew, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 355. Comedies, p. 217, col. B, line 32.
PEARLS Why, sir, what ‘cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? Taming of the Shrew, Act v, sc. 1, l. 77. Comedies, p. 227, col. A, line 22.
PEARLS This pearl she gave me, I do feel’t and see’t. Twelfth Night, Act iv, sc. 3, l. 2. Comedies, p. 271, col. B, line 61.
PEARLS Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes. King John, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 169. “Histories,” p. 4, col. B, line 55.
PEARLS Our chains and our jewels.Your brooches, pearls and ouches. II Henry IV, Act ii, sc. 4, l. 53 “Histories,” p. 82, col. B, line 28.
PEARLS The crown imperial, The intertissued robe of gold and pearl. Henry V, Act iv, sc. 1, l. 279. “Histories,” p. 85 (bis, number repeated), col. B, line 13.
PEARLS Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels. Richard III, Act i, sc. 4, l. 26. Histories, p. 180, col. A, line 12.
PEARLS The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again, transform’d to orient pearl. Richard III, Act iv, sc. 4, l. 322. Histories, p. 198, col. A, lines 16, 17.
PEARLS Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl. Troilus and Cressida, Act i, sc. 1, l. 103. At end of “Histories,” page irregularly numbered 79, col. A, line 8. P. 589 of facsimile.
PEARLS She is a pearl Whose price hath launch’d above a thousand ships. Troilus and Cressida, Act ii, sc. 2, l. 81. Unnumbered page, 596 of facsimile, col. A, line 19.
PEARLS 1 will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold. Titus Andronicus, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 19. “Tragedies,” p. 35, col. B, line 30.
PEARLS This is the pearl that pleased your empress’ eye. Titus Andronicus, Act v, sc. 1, l. 42. Tragedies, p. 48, col. A, line 21.
PEARLS I see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl. Macbeth, Act v, sc. 8, l. 56. Tragedies, p. 151, col. B, line 32.
PEARLS Hamlet, this pearl is thine. Hamlet, Act v, sc. 2, l. 293. Tragedies, p. 281, col. A, line 15.
PEARLS What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropp’d. Lear, Act iv, sc. 3, l. 24. Omitted in First Folio.
PEARLS Like the base Indian,’ threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe. Othello, Act v, sc. 2, l. 347. “Tragedies,” p. 338, col. B, line 53.
PEARLS He kiss’d, —the last of many doubled kisses,This orient pearl. Antony and Cleopatra, Act i, sc. 5, l. 41. Tragedies, p. 344, col. B, lines 22, 23.
PEARLS I’ll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail Rich pearls upon thee. Antony and Cleopatra, Act ii, sc. 5, l. 46. Tragedies, p. 348, col. B, lines 10, I1. *Judean in text. 86
ROCK-CRYSTAL His mistress Did hold his eyes lock’d in her crystal looks. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii, sc. 4, l. 89. * Comedies, p. 26, col. A, line 17.
ROCK-CRYSTAL Methough all his senses were lock’d in his eye As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy. Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 243. Comedies, p. 128, col. A, lines 6, 7.
ROCK-CRYSTAL One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other’s eyes. Idem, Act iv, sc. 3, l. 142. “Comedies,” p. 133, line 46.
ROCK-CRYSTAL To what, my love, shall I compare thine eye! Crystal is muddy. Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act iii, sc. 2, l. 139. “Comedies,” p. 154, col. A, line 54.
ROCK-CRYSTAL With these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed To do him justice. King John, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 171. “Histories,” p. 4, col. B, lines 57, 58.
ROCK-CRYSTAL The more fair and crystal is the sky, The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. Richard II, Act 1, sc. i, l. 41. “Histories,” p. 23, col. A, line 41 (last).
ROCK-CRYSTAL Go, clear thy crystals. Henry V, Act ii, sc. 3, l. 56. “Histories,” p. 75, col. B, line 65.
ROCK-CRYSTAL Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky. I Henry VI, Act i, sc. 1, l. 3. “Histories,” p. 96, col. A, lines 2, 3.
ROCK-CRYSTAL But in that crystal scales let there be weigh’d Your lady’s love against some other maid. Romeo and Juliet, Act i, sc. 2, l. 101. “Tragedies,” p. 55, col. B, lines 51, 52.
ROCK-CRYSTAL Thy crystal window ope; look out. Cymbeline, Act v, sc. 4, l. 81. “Tragedies,” p. 394, col. A, line 12. 88
The following table is arranged according to the frequency of precious stone mentions. The plays rank as follows:
First Published30
Probably Written


1623
1609
Cymbeline
10 (diamond 7, ruby 1, carbuncle 1, rockcrystal 1).
1598
1591
Love’s Labour’s Lost
8 (pearl 3, rock-crystal 2, diamond 1, amber 1, agate 1).
1600
1597
Merry Wives of Windsor
5 (pearl 1, diamond 2, emerald 1, sapphire 1).
1623
1591
Comedy of Errors
5 (diamond 2, ruby 1, sapphire 1, carbuncle 1).
1600
1595
Midsummer Night’s Dream
5 (pearl 3, ruby 1, rockcrystal 1).
1623
1596
Taming of the Shrew
5 (pearl 3, amber 1, coral 1).
1623
1591
Two Gentlemen of Verona
4 (pearl 3, rock-crystal 1).
1594
1593
Titus Andronicus
3 (pearl 2, jet 1).
1603
1602
Hamlet
3 (pearl, amber, carbuncle).
1623
1606
Macbeth
3 (diamond, ruby, pearl).
1609
1607
Pericles
3 (all diamond).
1623
1608
Antony and Cleopatra
3 (pearl 2, carbuncle 1).
1597
1591
Romeo and Juliet
2 (rock-crystal, agate).
1623
1592
I Henry VI
2 (diamond and rockcrystal).
1623
1592
II Henry VI
2 (diamond and jet).
1597
1592-3
Richard III
2 (both pearl).
1600
1594
Merchant of Venice
2 (turquoise, jet).
1623
1594
King John
2 (pearl, rock-crystal).
1623
1597
II Herny IV
2 (pearl, agate).
1600
1598
Henry V
2 (pearl, crystal).
1600
1599
Much Ado About Nothing
2 (pearl, agate).
1623
1599
Twelfth Night
2 (pearl, opal).
1609
1603
Troilus and Cressida
2 (both pearl).
1622
1604
Othello
2 (pearl, chrysolite).
1608
1606
Lear
2 (pearl, diamond).
1623
1611
Tempest
2 (pearl, coral).
1623
1592
III Henry VI
1 (diamond).
1597
1593
Richard II
1 (rock-crystal).
1598
1597
I Henry IV
1 (agate).
1623
1599
As You Like It
1 (pearl).
1623
1601
Julius Cæsar
1 (ruby).
1623
1604
Measure for Measure
1 (ruby).
1623
1607
Timon of Athens
1 (diamond).
1623
1608
Coriolanus
1 (carbuncle).

PRECIOUS STONES MENTIONED IN THE POEMS OF SHAKESPEARE
DIAMOND The diamond—why ‘twas beautiful and hard. “Lover’s Complaint,” l. 211.
SAPPHIRE The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend With objects manifold. Idem, l. 215.
PEARLS Her tears began to turn their tide, Being prison’d in her eye like pearls in glass. “Venus and Adonis,” 1. 980. G, verso, l. 1, 2.
PEARLS And wiped the brinish pearl from her bright eyes. Lucrece, l. 1213. I 2, l. 2.
PEARLS Those round clear pearls of his, that move thy pity, Are balls of quenchless fire to burn thy city. Idem, l. 1553. L 2, verso, l. 6, 7.
PEARLS Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood, “Lover’s Complaint,” l. 198.
PEARLS Ah! but those tears are pearls which thy love sheds. Sonnet XXXIV, l. 13. C 4, l. 13.
PEARLS Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded! “Passionate Pilgrim,” 1. 133. B 4, l. 3.
OPAL The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend With objects manifold. “Lover’s Complaint,” l. 215.
RUBY Once more the ruby-colour’d portal open’d. “Venus and Adonis,” l. 451. D ii, verso, l. 1.
RUBY Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood. “Lover’s Complaint,” l. 198.
EMERALD The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend. Idem, l. 213.
ROCK-CRYSTAL But hers through which the crystal tears gave light, Shone like the moon in water seen by night. “Venus and Adonis,” l. 491. D iii, l. 16, 17.
ROCK-CRYSTAL Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips, and crystal eyne. “Venus and Adonis,” l. 633 E ii, l. 15.
ROCK-CRYSTAL The crystal tide that from her two cheeks fair In the sweet channel of her bosom dropt. Idem, l. 957. G, l. 3, 4.
ROCK-CRYSTAL Her eyes seen in the tears, tears in her eye; Both crystals, where they view’d each other’s sorrow. Idem, l. 962, 963. G, l. 8, 9.
ROCK-CRYSTALS Through crystal walls each little mote will peep. Lucrece, l. 1251. 1 2, verso, l. 19.
ROCK-CRYSTAL A closet never pierced with crystal eyes. Sonnet XLVI, l. 6. D 2, verso, l. 6.
ROCK-CRYSTAL Favours from a maund31 she drew Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet. Lover’s Complaint, l. 37.
ROCK-CRYSTAL Who glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses. Lover’s Complaint, l. 286. AMBER With coral clasps and amber studs. “Passionate Pilgrim,” l. 366. D 4, verso, l. 2.
AMBER Favours from a maund she drew Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet. Lover’s Complaint, l. 37.
JET as above.
CORAL That sweet coral mouth Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew. “Venus and Adonis,” l. 542. D iv, l. 20, 21.
CORAL Her alabaster skin, Her coral lips, her snow white dimpled chin. “Lucrece,” l. 420. D 3, l. 7.
CORAL Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling. Idem, l. 1234. 1 2, verso, l. 2. 96
CORAL Coral is far more red than her lips’ red. Sonnet CXXX, l. 2. H 4, l. 2.
CORAL A belt of straw and ivy buds. With coral clasps and amber studs. “Passionate Pilgrim,” l. 366. D 4, verso, l. 1, 2.232 While it cannot be regarded as certain that whenever Shakespeare writes of jewels or of rings he means those in which precious stones were set, several of the passages more or less clearly indicate this, and we therefore present here the more characteristic of the lines in question: A Death’s face in a ring. Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act v, sc. 2, l. 616. Comedies, p. 142, col. A, line 36. The dearest ring in Venice will I give you. Merchant of Venice, Act iv, sc. 1, l. 435 Comedies, p. 181, col. B, line 27. O behold this ring Diana. Whose high respect and rich validity Did lack a parallel; yet for all that He gave it to a commoner of the camp, If I be one. He blushes, and ‘tis it: Count. Of six preceding ancestors, that gem, Conferr’d by testament to the sequent issue, Hath it been owned and worn. All’s Well That Ends Well, Act v, sc. 3, l. 191-198. “Comedies,” p. 253, col. A, lines 1-8. My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter! Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats! Justice! the law! my ducats and my daughter! A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter! And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones, Stolen by my daughter! Justice! find the girl; She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats. Merchant of Venice, Act ii, sc. 8, l. 15-22. “Comedies,” p. 171, col. B, lines 23-30. 1 would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear! Merchant of Venice, Act iii, sc. 1, l. 92. “Comedies,” p. 173, col. B, lines 1, 2. Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. As You Like It, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 13-15. “Comedies,” p. 190, col. A, lines 10-12.
Win her with gifts, if she respect not words: Dumb jewels often in their silent kind More than quick words do move a woman’s mind. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act iii, sc. 1, l. 89-91. “Comedies,” p. 29, col. A, lines 63-65. 1 frown the while; and perchance wind up my watch, or play with my — some rich jewel. Twelfth Night, Act ii, sc. 5, l. 64-66. “Comedies,” p. 263, col. B, lines 32, 33. A jewel in a ten-times-barr’d-up chest Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. King Richard II, Act i, sc. 1, l. 180, 181. “Histories,” p. 24, col. B, lines 28, 29. This royal throne of Kings, this scepter’d isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world. This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England. King Richard II, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 40-46. Histories, p. 28, col. B, lines 17-23. In argument and proof of which contract, Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection. I Henry VI, Act v, sc. 2, l. 46, 47. “Histories,” p. 115, col. A, lines 8, 9.
Shakespeare and Precious Stones It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night, Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. Romeo and Juliet, Act i, sc. 5, l. 47-49. “Tragedies,” p. 57, col. B, lines 59-61. But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger A precious ring, a ring that I must use In dear employment. Romeo and Juliet, Act v, sc. 3, l. 30-32. Tragedies, p. 75, col. A, lines 34-36. A striking proof that Shakespeare had no fear of tautology when he wished to strengthen the impression of a word by constant reiteration is given in the Merchant of Venice (Act v, sc. 2), whence we have already quoted a few lines. The passage concerns the disposal by Bassanio of a ring he had received from Portia, and he answers her thus in the First Folio text:33 Bassanio. Sweet Portia, If you did know to whom I gave the Ring, If you did know for whom I gave the Ring, And would conceive for what I gave the Ring, And how unwillingly I left the Ring, When naught would be accepted but the Ring, You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
Portia. If you had knowne the virtue of the Ring, Or halfe her worthinesse that gave the Ring, Or your owne honour to containe the Ring, You would not then have parted with the Ring. It was probably more than a coincidence that Shakespeare’s first printed book, “Venus and Adonis,” was published, in 1593, by a fellow townsman, Richard Field, who had come up to London from Stratford when a mere boy. Undoubtedly, when Shakespeare met him in the bustle of city life, the common memories of their quieter native town served at once as an introduction and as a link between them. Field also published Shakespeare’s “Lucrece” in the year 1594. He had been a freeman of the Stationers’ Company from February 6, 1587, and died either in the year the First Folio was issued, or in the succeeding year, 1624.

1 For a Venetian tale that may have suggested these lines to Shakespeare, see the present writer’s “The Magic of Jewels and Charms,” Philadelphia and London, 1915, p. 393. The text of the First Folio gives “ Iudean,” instead of “Indian.”
2 On the pearls brought to Europe from both North and South America in Shakespeare’s time, see the writer’s “Gems and Precious Stones of North America,” New York, 1890, pp. 240-257; 2d. ed., 1892.
3 See “The Book of the Pearl,” by George Frederick Kunz and Charles Hugh Stevenson, New York, 1908, colored plate opposite p. 16.
4 “Venus and Adonis,” l. 542; “Lucrece,” l. 420; Sonnet CXXX, I. 2.
5 “Lover’s Complaint,” l. 37.
6 “Idem,” l. 286.
7 “Lucrece,” l. 1251.
8 Rare word, only known in this passage. Century Dictionary gives “invisible,” “unseen,” “uninspected,” noting that some commentators suggest “inspected,” “tried,” “investigated.”
9 See H. R. D. Anders, “Shakespeare’s Books,” Berlin, 1904, Pp. 238-248, and the New Shakespeare Soc. Trans., 1877-79, pp. 436 sqq.
10 In the author’s library is a fourteenth century MS. of the “De Proprietatibus Rerum,” which belonged to the Carthusian Monastery of the Holy Trinity, at Dijon.
11 “The Woman Hater, as it hath beene lately acted by the children of Paules, London, printed and to be sold by John Hodgers in Paules Church-yard, 1607.”
12 First Folio, p. 257, col. B, lines 15, 16.
13 The compilation containing these poems is entitled: “Hystoria y relacio verdadera de la enfermedad felicissimo transito y sumptuosas exequias funebres de la Serenissima Reyna de España Isabel de Valoys nuestra Señora,” Madrid, 1569. The opening lines of Cervantes are: A quien yra mi doloroso canto O en cuya oreja sonara su acento? (To whom will my sad song go, and in whose ears will its accents sound?)
14 Sir Sidney Lee, “A Life of Shakespeare,” new edition, London, 1915, p. 26, note.
15 Edmund Falconer, “Memories, the Bequest of my Boyhood,” London, 1863, pp. 14-22
16 Collectanea rerum memorabilium, Cap. 15
17 Noted in the present writer’s “The Curious Lore of Precious Stones,” Philadelphia and London, 1913, p. 18.
18 William Hone, “The Every-Day Book,” London, 1838. vol. ii, cols. 748, 749.
19 William Hone, “Every-Day Book,” London, 1838, vol. ii, cols. 749, 750.
20 “Every-Day Book,” loc. cit.
21 H. Clifford Smith, “Jewellery,” London, 1908, p. 302.
22 H. Clifford Smith, “Jewellery,” London, 1908, pp. 219, 220, 301.
23 H. Clifford Smith, “Jewellery,” London, 1908, pp. 211, 213.
24 Germain Bapst, “Histoire des Joyaux de la Couronne de France,” Paris, 1889, pp. 175, 176, 300, 304.
25 Op. cit., p. 289.
26 “Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies, being a reproduction in facsimile of the First Folio Edition of 1623, from the Chatsworth copy in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire, K.G., with introduction and censure of copies by Sidney Lee.” Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1902, xxxv 908 pp. Edition limited to 1000 numbered and signed copies.
27 Judge.
28 Catalogue of an exhibition illustrative of the text of Shakespeare’s plays, as published in edited editions, together with a large collection of engraved portraits of the poet. New York, The Grolier Club, April 6-29, 1916, vi +114 pp.
29 W. Sharp Ogden, “Shakspere’s Portraits: painted, graven, and medallic,” in The British Numismatic Journal, and Proceedings of The British Numismatic Society, 1910, London, 1911, pp. 143-198; see p. 189.
30 Data of first publication contributed by Miss Henrietta C. Bartlett.
31 Basket, or hamper
32 References are here given to the original editions of “Venus and Adonis,” 1593 (unique copy in the Malone Collection in the Bodleian Library, Oxford); “ Lucrece,” 1594; “Passionate Pilgrim,” 1599, and Sonnets, 1609. As there is no continuous pagination, the letters and numbers refer to the page signatures and to the line of the page.
33 First Folio, “Comedies,” p. 183, col. B, lines 36-46.

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