THE ROMANCE OF THE GREAT GEMS
The Black Prince’s ruby—Its great size and value—Came to the British in
1367—Henry V wears the ruby at the battle of Agincourt—Its narrow
escape—On Bosworth Field—Henry VII—The ruby is sold for £4 after
Charles I was beheaded—In the State Crown of Charles II—Stolen by
Colonel Blood and found in Parrett’s pocket—Now in King George’s
State Crown—The Koh-i-Nur—Its bloody history—Nadir Shah obtains it
by strategy—He is murdered—Passes to the Afghan throne—Shah Suja
brings it to Lahore—Captured by the British—Presented by the Army to
Queen Victoria—Now in the diamond crown of Queen Mary—The sapphire
of Edward the Confessor—Said to have magic qualities—The Stuart
sapphire—Bequeathed to George III by Cardinal York—Now in the band
of the King’s State Crown—The Stars of Africa—The largest diamond in
the world—Presented to Edward VII by the Union of South Africa—Cut
into four great portions—Value of the stars—Some historic
diamonds—Pearls of Queen Elizabeth—Their history—Now on the King’s
State Crown—The perils of the Jewels in the Great War—Four narrow
escapes.
THE history of England might be written round the gems that adorn, and
in many cases, grace the regal emblems. Of the greater precious stones
there are connected and authentic traditions which carry them back to
Edward the Confessor, or to the Black Prince, or to Queen Elizabeth; but
besides these are many thousands of smaller stones set in the crowns,
some of which, as is testified by their cutting, are of untold
antiquity. These have probably been set and reset in the crowns of the
Kings of England for centuries, but being of no remarkable size or shape
are not recognisable in the presentments of ancient crowns. Even in this
year of grace it is found impossible to pictorially portray a diamond so
as to give even moderate justice to the original. Leaving, therefore,
the smaller stones to their silent testimony, it is possible to give the
romantic stories of the greater gems.
Of these the one which claims perhaps to the British Empire the greatest
interest is the great ruby, which is indeed as large as a small hen’s
egg, and is given the place of honour in front of the King’s State
Crown. This is the celebrated and historic jewel which first in its
English history belonged to the Black Prince, the eldest son of Edward
III.
[Illustration: THE BLACK PRINCE WITH THE FAMOUS RUBY IN HIS CORONET]
The ruby came to him in true knightly fashion on the field of battle. In
those days the potentates of Europe were accustomed to lend each other
armed forces, large or small, to accomplish such military achievements
as might be dear to one or the other or to both. Thus it was that Edward
III lent a small force of some four or five thousand English troops to
Don Pedro, King of Castille, to be employed during a short campaign in
Spain. Mainly through the skill of the Black Prince, aided by the
courage of the English soldiers, Don Pedro defeated his enemies at the
Battle of Najera, which is near Vittoria, where the Duke of Wellington
many centuries later won another British victory. In gratitude for this
signal service Don Pedro gave to the Black Prince his most treasured
jewel, an enormous ruby.
The ruby, red as human blood, had come to Don Pedro in bloody fashion.
In 1367 it belonged to the King of Granada, another minor sovereign in
Spain, and Don Pedro greatly coveted the greatest gem of the Western
world, as it then probably was. He therefore took direct action towards
obtaining the stone, and in cold blood slaughtered the King of Granada
and carried off the ruby. His gift to the Black Prince, therefore,
however generous it may have seemed, was not improbably a decent pretext
for getting rid of a treasure ignobly acquired, and which when once
possessed lost its value. How old the ruby was in 1367 history does not
relate, but it bears visible evidence that it had previous to that date
an oriental origin, which may have extended over many centuries.
This is judged by the fact that at the top of the ruby may be seen a
piercing, made evidently so as to enable it to be worn suspended from a
necklace. This piercing of precious stones is of very ancient oriental
origin, from which it is concluded that the ruby came from the East, and
not improbably from Burmah, where similar rubies have been found. The
ancient piercing has in a later century been filled up by inserting a
small ruby in a gold setting.
However ancient its origin, the ruby came into the possession of the
British Crown in 1367-68, and has since been through many and great
adventures before it reached its present well-earned security in the
Tower of London.
The Black Prince, using the pierced hole, had the ruby sewn to the
velvet cap he wore under his coronet, and an ancient print shows the gem
thus disposed. The Prince died in 1376, a year before his father, and
therefore never came to the throne; but he bequeathed the ruby to his
son, who afterwards became Richard II. Henry IV, on usurping the throne
probably usurped the ruby with it, but it does not reappear in history
till the next reign, that of Henry V. Here it had a very notable and
thrilling adventure, for it took part in one of the greatest of British
victories, the battle of Agincourt. It was the custom in those days for
the King, if a doughty warrior, and Kings were expected to be so, to
take the field with his troops and to fight at their head. Nor did he go
to battle meanly clad, or disguised as a knight of small account. On the
contrary, he went armed, caparisoned, and mounted, as a king; and so
that there should be no mistake about it, wore a regal diadem round his
helmet. Thus went forth Henry V on the morn of Agincourt, and glittering
on the front of his coroneted helmet was the great ruby. As the battle
swayed backwards and forwards many exciting encounters took place
between redoubted champions on either side, each choosing out an
opponent worthy of his steel. In this knightly quest the great Duc
d’Alençon, searching no doubt for an English duke or earl, came upon a
commanding figure, who from his bearing, rich armour, and coroneted
helmet was evidently a knight of importance. Him, therefore, the Duc
d’Alençon challenged to mortal combat; and lesser folk, as was the
chivalry of the day, stood aside and held the lists.
The duel was fierce and strong, and many a shrewd blow was dealt and
parried, but at length Henry V prevailed, and the Duc d’Alençon was
unhorsed and made a prisoner, to be later held to ransom. It was only
after the battle was over, and the victory of Agincourt emblazoned for
ever on the standards of England, that the King being unhelmeted, and
his armour removed, it was discovered that a shrewd blow had only just
missed the great ruby, or perhaps had been turned by it. Indeed, a
mighty cut from the Duc d’Alençon’s sword had hewn off a portion of the
golden diadem in which the ruby was set.
Some say that this was the last occasion on which the ruby has figured
in battle, whilst others are of opinion that so striking a jewel would
always have been in the crowns of succeeding monarchs. If this was so
another decisive battle, though not on the victorious side, may be added
to its war record. A little more than a hundred years after the battle
of Agincourt was fought in England another battle of importance, which
decided not only a local quarrel, but influenced the course of the
history of the nation. In this battle, which was fought at Bosworth
Field, Richard III, the Hunchback, was defeated by Henry Tudor.
According to the well-known story, when the tide of battle turned
against him, Richard, who had worn his crown throughout the day, though
probably behind a safe barbed wire of knights, was seized with panic,
and to ensure a less conspicuous retreat, took off his crown and hid it
in a hawthorn bush. There some lucky underling, doubtless in quest of
loot, found it in good and appropriate season, so that the victorious
army was through its appointed leaders enabled to crown there and then,
amidst the dead and dying, Henry VII King of England. Let us hope that
the great ruby was in the crown on this historic occasion, for it was
the birth of the House of Tudor.
Henry VII was the issue of a romance nearly connected with the Black
Prince, and through him with the ruby. When Henry V died, Katherine, his
widow, having first tasted of royalty, became a mere woman, and for love
of a mere man married a plain but stalwart soldier from the ranks named
Owen Tudor. It was their grandson who was the victor at Bosworth, and
who was there crowned Henry VII.
The next recorded adventure of the great ruby came more than a century
later, though doubtless if it could speak it would have much to say of
what it saw or suffered during those hundred and sixty-four intervening
years. When Charles I was beheaded, it was ordered by Parliament that
all the insignia of royalty should be destroyed and the gems set therein
sold to the best advantage. In the list which we have of the Regalia,
which was in accordance with this order totally destroyed, defaced, or
sold, we find the item: “To one large ballas ruby wraped in paper value
£4.” Thus humbly disguised and lowly priced the Black Prince’s ruby
passed to some unknown purchaser. He may have been a Royalist in
disguise, or he may have been a dealer in stones, or this may have been
a spurious deal to favour a Parliamentarian whom it was wished to
gratify; perchance even it passed by favour to a fair lady beloved of a
Roundhead. But whatever its adventures during the Commonwealth era, we
find the ruby safe and sound back in the State Crown of Charles II.
As is related in the account of Colonel Blood’s attempt to steal the
Crown,[20] for convenience of porterage the arches were battered in and
the rim bent double, so that it might conveniently be slipped into a bag
carried for the purpose. During this rough treatment many of the stones
fell out, and amongst others the great ruby, which, when the marauders
were captured, was found in Parrett’s pocket. That this large ballas
ruby, as it is described, was the Black Prince’s ruby is very clearly
evident, because the setting of Charles II’s State Crown is still in
existence, in which may be seen a vacant hole the exact size and shape
of the Black Prince’s ruby. Curiously enough, this historic setting is
not State property, but passed into private possession, and was last
owned by the late Lord Amherst of Hackney.
The ruby is not set clear, but has a gold backing, how ancient is not
known, but so old that no jeweller will run the risk of taking it off to
weigh and accurately measure the stone. Messrs. Rundell and Bridge more
than a century ago refused to do so, and Messrs. Garrard, the Court
Jewellers, at this day would be equally diffident. A stone so old as
this, though apparently perfectly sound, is not wisely put to so severe
a strain as might be occasioned in removing the gold setting.
That was the latest great adventure which is recorded of the ruby. From
that time to this, a stretch of two and a half centuries, it has passed
in succession to thirteen Kings and Queens of England, and now occupies
the pride of place in front of the State Crown of King George V, and
rests secure and safe in the Tower of London.
* * * * *
More famous even than the Black Prince’s ruby, and with perhaps an even
more exciting history, is the great diamond known throughout the world
by the name given to it many centuries ago in the East, Koh-i-Nur, or
Mountain of Light. This priceless jewel was found in the diamond-fields
of Golconda in Southern India, and is first heard of when in the
possession of the King of Golconda. The King of Golconda was a petty
chieftain much too insignificant to own so great a stone, the fame of
which had spread throughout India, and stretched its alluring light so
far north as the throne of the Great Mogul at Delhi. The Great Mogul at
this time was the Emperor Shah Jehan, and as Golconda was some 1500
miles from Delhi, the ordinary procedure of sending an army to knock
Golconda on the head and seize the jewel was not feasible. Shah Jehan,
therefore, employed such guile and diplomacy as is dear to the Oriental
heart to obtain his desire in a less expensive manner. Thus by bribery
and cajolery the jewel passed, and quite fittingly from a historic point
of view, into the hands of a great monarch.
The Koh-i-Nur is first recorded as having been seen by a European in
1665, when the French traveller Tavernier was shown it, then in the
possession of the Emperor Aurungzebe at Delhi. With the Great Moguls it
remained till 1739, when it started on the more adventurous and tragic
period of its career.
In that year the great invasion from the West, under Nadir Shah, King of
Persia, swept through the Punjab and laid Delhi and the unworthy
successor of great Kings at his feet. Mahomed Shah was the unworthy
successor, and having lost his kingdom, thought that at any rate he
would cling to the Koh-i-Nur, thereby to provide himself with food and
sustenance for the remaining years of his life. To Nadir Shah the
existence of the great stone was well known; indeed it was to be one of
the great prizes of the war, but search where they would, neither he nor
his army of followers could find the diamond. Where searchings and
direct action failed, a little judicious love-making succeeded. Amongst
Mahomed Shah’s large assortment of wives was one who was not impervious
to the gallant attacks of one of the bright knights of the conquering
hosts. In the intervals of talking about more engrossing subjects during
their midnight meetings, this frail, comparatively fair, but undoubtedly
indiscreet damsel, divulged the great secret.
From personal observation she declared, and who should know better than
a lady who occasionally shared his couch and his affections, the Emperor
Mahomed Shah kept the Koh-i-Nur day and night concealed in the folds of
his turban. The bright but dusky knight immediately communicated this
interesting piece of information to Nadir Shah. That potentate, instead
of taking the commoner course of murdering the wearer of this valuable
turban, or at the least committing burglary with violence, chose a more
courteous but equally effective means of gaining possession of the
diamond. He gave orders that a banquet should be prepared, and as the
guest of honour invited Mahomed Shah. Again Nadir Shah did not mix
ground glass with his guest’s food, nor did he poison his wine: two
obvious methods; nor did he make him drunk and then steal the jewel.
Neither was the gorgeous menial who waved a fan behind the royal diners
instructed to thrust a dagger between the shoulder-blades of Mahomed
Shah. The acquisition was much more diplomatically achieved.
In the East if one prince or potentate, or even a person of lower
degree, wishes to pay a marked compliment to another, he after extolling
the extreme elegance and richness of the other’s turban, whilst
deprecating the value of his own, proposes as a mark of friendship and
regard that they shall exchange turbans. In the more sordid West there
might be some economic souls who would not wear their best head-gear
when such interchanges of courtesies were imminent, but in the East the
turban is a social insignia, and the higher a person’s degree the more
magnificent his turban. Consequently, when two kings meet each other at
dinner or other State occasions, it may safely be conjectured that they
will wear their most magnificent turbans, each trusting that his own
will outvie that of the other. Even an exchange which might entail a
sensible loss would not be without its compensations, for all the
courtiers on the other side would extol the magnificence and richness of
the late possessor.
Mahomed Shah very naturally did not for a moment foresee that so great a
compliment would be paid him by the conqueror, or he would assuredly
have left the Koh-i-Nur at home that night. To his horror and surprise,
during the course of the dinner Nadir Shah made him a most polite
speech, extolled his valour and wisdom, swore eternal friendship, and as
a sign and token of the same suggested that they should exchange
turbans! To the luckless Mahomed Shah no course was open but to accept
the compliment with the best grace he could muster. It is not surprising
to learn that during the rest of the feast Nadir Shah was in excellent
spirits, whilst Mahomed Shah appears to have lost his appetite.
Thus passed the great diamond to the King of Persia, who when he
returned to his own land, took it with him. But it brought him no good
fortune, for he was in due course murdered, and the Koh-i-Nur was taken
by one of his bodyguard, an Afghan named Ahmed Shah. This soldier of
fortune escaped to Afghanistan with the diamond, and there eventually
became Amir or King of that country and founder of the Durani dynasty.
In 1772 Ahmed Shad died and was succeeded by his son Taimur Shah, to
whom also passed the Koh-i-Nur. Shah Suja, the next occupant of the
throne at Kabul, succeeded also to the possession of the famous diamond,
but it brought him no good fortune, for he was deposed and fled for his
life to Lahore, taking the stone with him. There he found asylum with
the Maharajah Runjeet Singh, the Lion of the Punjab, but as he soon
found, only on condition that he handed over the Koh-i-Nur to his host.
In Lahore the celebrated stone was seen by Lord Auckland’s sister, the
Hon. Emily Eden, in 1838-39. Ten years later the threatening attitude of
the Sikhs, combined with repeated and overt acts of hostility, compelled
the East India Company to settle once and for all with this turbulent
neighbour. With slender forces Lord Gough advanced to subjugate the
Sikhs, and in the three great and hard-fought battles of the Sutlej,
Goojerât, and Chillianwalla, laid in the dust the vaunted power of this
military race. The Punjab was annexed to the territories administered by
the East India Company, the Maharajah Runjeet Singh ceased to reign, and
the Koh-i-Nur passed to the British Army as part of the spoils of war.
During the transition stage the Punjab was administered by a board of
five British officers, amongst whom were the brothers Sir John[21] and
Sir Henry Lawrence. At one of the meetings of the Board the question was
raised as to what was to be done with the treasure taken, amongst which
was the Koh-i-Nur, there lying on the table. The Board decided to
ascertain the wishes of the Directors of the East India Company, and
asked Sir John Lawrence meanwhile to take charge of it. Sir John, who
had many and great matters on his mind, beside which a diamond was of
small import, wrapped the stone up in a piece of paper, put it into his
pocket, and forgot all about it!
About six weeks after, at another meeting of the Board, a letter was
read from the Governor-General, in which it was stated that it had been
decided that the Koh-i-Nur should be presented by the Army of the Punjab
to Queen Victoria. Sir John Lawrence listened to this pronouncement
without much interest, till one of the Board mentioned incidentally that
the diamond was in Sir John’s safe custody!
Sir John, not being an emotional man, never turned a hair, but after
hearing the debate through mounted his horse and galloped off to his
bungalow. There he summoned his bearer, or valet, and said: “About six
weeks ago I brought home in my pocket a piece of glass wrapped in a bit
of paper. What did you do with it?”
“Cherisher of the poor, I placed that piece of glass wrapped in paper on
the top of your honour’s office box, and”—opening the box—“here it is!”
Being an unemotional person Sir John did not fall on his servant’s neck
and shed tears of gratitude; on the contrary, he merely said, “Very
good,” put the diamond again in his pocket and rode off to deposit it
with someone who had nothing else to think about, and a guard of
soldiers to help him do so.
From Lahore to England the Koh-i-Nur was sent under special precautions
in charge of Major Macheson, and on arrival was presented to Queen
Victoria as a loyal tribute from the Army which had by its gallant deeds
added the Punjab to the Empire.
It was on view to the public at the Great Exhibition of 1851, and when
that was closed returned to the safe keeping of Queen Victoria. The size
and weight of the Koh-i-Nur when first found is not accurately known,
but it is conjectured that after its first cutting it weighed about 1000
carats. It is, however, known that when in the possession of Shah Jehan
it had, by unskilful cutting, been reduced to 800 carats. By the orders
of that Emperor an endeavour was made to get a better result, the
further cutting being entrusted to a Venetian named Ortensio Borgio. His
effort was not deemed satisfactory, and Borgio was fined £1000, and may
be considered lucky not to have lost his head as well. When presented to
Queen Victoria the diamond weighed only 186-1/6 carats. Under the
superintendence of the Prince Consort it was again cut by Coster of
Amsterdam into the form of a regular brilliant. By this last cutting the
stone was reduced to 106-1/6 carats, but curiously enough looks larger
and is superficially larger than it was before. This result was achieved
by cutting transversely the original cone-shaped stone, this diameter
being greater than the base. Queen Victoria wore the Koh-i-Nur set as a
brooch, but it is now perhaps more appropriately placed in front of the
State Crown of Queen Mary. The diamond can, however, be removed at
pleasure and worn as a brooch.
It might be thought that so historic a stone should be set in the King’s
Crown, but a curious tradition regarding it is thus upheld. From very
ancient days, and no doubt due to its bloody history, the Koh-i-Nur is
supposed to bring misfortune to any man who may wear it, but that it
brings no harm to a woman. Certainly it has brought no harm to Queen
Victoria, Queen Alexandra, or Queen Mary, all of whom have worn it
constantly.
[Illustration: THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON ASSISTING AT THE FIRST CUTTING OF
THE KOH-I-NUR]
When presented to Queen Victoria the Koh-i-Nur was valued at £140,000,
but indeed such stones as this are from their historic association
practically priceless. The Koh-i-Nur cannot be bought with money, and he
who wishes to take it by force must first defeat the British Empire.
* * * * *
One of the oldest as well as one of the most valuable gems in the Jewel
House is the sapphire which belonged to Edward the Confessor, and was
worn by him in his Coronation ring. It would thus be considerably older
than the Tower of London itself, for the Confessor came to the throne
many years before the Conqueror landed in England and built the Tower.
As was not an unusual custom, the ring with the sapphire was buried with
Edward the Confessor probably on his finger, in his shrine at
Westminster, but in the year 1101 the shrine was broken open and this
and other jewels taken out.
This was the ring which appears in the legend regarding Edward the
Confessor and St. John the Evangelist. According to this legend St. John
on one occasion appeared before the King in the guise of a pilgrim. To
him the King of his bounty gave the ring off his finger. Some little
time after the ring was returned to the King with a message informing
him privily of the exact day of his death. Doubtless St. John meant this
for a kindly warning, so that the King might be absolutely at the height
of his holiness when the call came. Most people, however, would have
heartily cursed St. John for his officiousness, for few care to live
with a guillotine hanging over their heads and a clock facing them
ticking off the hours and minutes.
The stone has manifestly been recut, for it is at present a “rose,” and
that form of cutting was unknown in ancient days. Probably this was done
in the reign of Charles II. It is a remarkably beautiful gem, of good
colour and without flaw, and is intrinsically worth a very high sum. In
the days of Edward the Confessor it was reputed to have the miraculous
power of curing what was known collectively as the cramp, that is
rheumatism, sciatica, and the like, but we have not heard of any later
monarch testing its efficiency. The sapphire is now set in the centre of
cross paté on top of the King’s State Crown.
* * * * *
In the band at the back of the King’s State Crown may be seen a very
large sapphire, known as the Stuart sapphire, which has seen many
adventures. What its early history was is not known, but at one end is
drilled a longitudinal hole evidently made for some attachment so that
the stone might be worn as a pendant. It first came into recognition in
the reign of Charles II, who wore it in his crown, but whether he
received it from Charles I or acquired it in his wanderings is not quite
clear. At his death the sapphire passed to James II, who when he was
dethroned and fled to France took it with him. James II left the
sapphire to his son, Charles Edward, the Old Pretender, who in his turn
left it to his son, Henry Bentinck, known as Cardinal Yorke, by whom it
was bequeathed, with other Stuart relics, to George III. George IV and
William IV in turn owned it, and then it came to Queen Victoria, who
very greatly prized it and had it set in the band of her State Crown, in
the front and just below the Black Prince’s ruby. This pride of place
the Stuart sapphire resigned in favour of the Star of Africa, a portion
of which Edward VII placed in the crown, symbolising the entry of the
Union of South Africa into the brotherhood of the British Empire.
The Stuart sapphire is of great size, being about 1-1/2 inches in length
by 1 in. in breadth, and is oval in shape. It is without serious flaw
and of good colour, though paler than some of the best sapphires to be
found in other portions of the regalia. The stone is set in a gold
brooch, and can be removed and worn as a personal ornament.
* * * * *
As gems the two greater portions of the Star of Africa eclipse in size
and brilliancy all others in the Jewel House. Though the stone may have
taken a million years to form in the womb of mother earth, it only saw
the light of day in 1904. In the rough when found it measured 4 in. in
length, 2-1/4 in. in width, and 2-1/2 in. in depth, and weighed roughly
1-1/2 lb. But even this huge block, as large as half a Roman brick, it
was concluded was only a part of some even more gigantic diamond, for
its base was clean cut as with a knife, showing that a portion perhaps
as large, perhaps even larger, in some remote age, by a great convulsion
of nature, had been split off. For fourteen years diligent search was
made for the missing portion, for any block or spadeful of blue rock
might contain it. Yet strangely enough, when by chance it was found, it
came to an untimely end. A telegram from Johannesburg, dated October
18th, 1919, made this brief announcement: “A large diamond has been
found on the Premier Mine. It is estimated to have weighed 1500 carats,
but unfortunately had been crushed by the crusher. It is believed to be
part of the other half of the Cullinan diamond.”
The diamond was first known as the “Cullinan Diamond,” Mr. T. M.
Cullinan being at the time manager of the Premier Mine, near Pretoria,
where it was found, and it is still very generally known by its first
name. It was insured for the sum of £1,500,000. The Union Government of
South Africa eventually became the purchasers, inspired with the happy
sentiment that this magnificent diamond would be a graceful emblem of
the entry of South Africa into the British Empire.
When this monster stone was presented to Edward VII it looked like a
block of rock salt, as may be judged from the exact model of it now to
be seen in the Jewel House. When the experts were called in they
declared that it was impossible to cut a stone of this size and shape
into one brilliant; they therefore recommended that following the
natural cleavages it should be broken up into four parts, two of which
would be very great brilliants, and two of lesser size. King Edward
following this advice, and with the full consent of the donors, called
in the celebrated diamond-cutters of Amsterdam, the Messrs. Coster, and
put the work in hand. One can imagine the enormous anxiety and the
extraordinary coolness, steadiness of hand, and skill of the man who
with one tremor of the mallet or chisel might mar the greatest stone of
all ages. The chisel and the steel mallet with which this delicate
operation was performed are preserved at the Tower, and it is noticeable
that there are only two or three dents in the chisel, showing how true
and clean the strokes must have been.
Thus split up, the largest portion was cut into a pear-shaped brilliant,
and set at the head of the King’s Sceptre. The next largest portion was
cut into a cushion-shaped brilliant, and placed in the band of the
King’s State Crown, just below the Black Prince’s ruby. Both of these
brilliants are larger and finer stones than any others, including the
Koh-i-Nur. The two remaining large portions are set, one in the band,
and the other in the cross paté of Queen Mary’s Crown. It may be of
interest to record the exact weight and sizes of these four great
brilliants which collectively are called the Stars of South Africa. The
largest portion, that in the King’s Sceptre, weighs 516-1/2 carats, and
measures 2-5/6 in. in length and 1-13/16 in. at its broadest part. The
next largest portion, that in the band of the King’s State Crown, weighs
309-3/16 carats, and measures 1-13/16 in. in length, and 1-11/16 inches
in breadth. The third portion, that in the band of Queen Mary’s Crown,
weighs 96 carats, and the fourth portion, which is drop shaped and is in
the cross paté on the top of Queen Mary’s Crown, weighs 64 carats. Thus
it will be noticed that a rough stone weighing 3025 carats cuts down
into four brilliants weighing in the aggregate under 986 carats.
The question is often asked: “What is the value of the Stars of South
Africa?” And it is a very difficult one to answer, for curiously enough
stones above a certain size lose their commercial value, for few have
the money or inclination to buy gems of enormous size, and fewer still
would be bold enough to wear them. Nobody but a King or a Queen, for
instance, could wear a diamond which on an ordinary person would look
and certainly be taken for the lustre from a candelabra. Thus the market
becomes strictly limited, as was definitely brought home to the owners
of the Premier Mine. It was thus that the Union Government were enabled
to buy a stone valued at £1,500,000 for £150,000, a stone which even
when split into four is still of an aggregate value difficult to
compute. Let us elude the difficulty and say they are worth a million
and a half, and leave it at that.
It is interesting to compare the Cullinan with other well-known diamonds
of size and historic value, though curiously enough even the present
existence of these stones is not in all cases certain. Those, for
instance, which formed part of the regalia of the late Tsar of Russia
are for very obvious reasons at present in hiding. The largest of these
is the Orloff, which weighs 194 carats. This great stone came from
India, and was reputed to be a cleavage from the still greater stone,
the Koh-i-Nur. It was stolen by a French grenadier from the eye-socket
of an idol in a Hindu temple. He deserted the army and sold the stone to
the captain of an English merchant ship for £2000. By him it was
conveyed to Holland, where a Jew named Khojeh Raphael gave £12,000 for
it; and at once resold it to Orloff for Catherine the Great for £90,000
and an annuity of £4000! Since that time this great stone has remained
one of the Russian Crown Jewels, and when last seen was set at the head
of the sceptre of the late Tsar. Where it is now or what its fate the
future may perhaps reveal.
Another large diamond, named the Shah, of very curious shape, also was
amongst the Russian Crown Jewels. It is flat and rectangular in shape,
with a Persian inscription engraved upon it and a groove cut round. It
weighs 86 carats and was given by the Shah of Persia to the Emperor
Nicholas I. The stone is an exceptionally fine one, but owing to its
peculiar shape its value can only be conjectured. The Polar Star is
another very fine diamond which formed part of the Russian regalia. It
was bought by the Russians in London about seventy years ago, and is
described as of remarkable purity and brilliancy. It weighs 40 carats,
but the price paid for it and its present value is not known. Nor its
whereabouts.
The Sanci diamond has a very ancient and interesting history, and has
been through many adventures. It is first heard of as belonging to
Charles the Bold of Burgundy on the day he was disastrously defeated by
the Swiss at the battle of Granson. According to tradition a Swiss
soldier picked it up, and having no value for a piece of glass, sold it
for a florin or the price of a drink. Eventually it found its way to
Constantinople, and was there bought by the French Ambassador in 1570,
and became henceforth known as the Great Sanci diamond. Henry III and
Henry IV, both of France, were the next possessors, and whilst owned by
the latter King it had a curious adventure. One of the King’s followers,
who had charge of the diamond, was attacked by robbers, and the faithful
fellow, to save his master’s treasure, swallowed it. The robbers after a
stiff fight slew the servant, and not finding the stone pulled the
corpse into the thicket and left it. In due course of nature, when
decomposition had done its work, the brilliant was found again and was
restored to the French King. The Sanci then, by sale or gift, passed
into the possession of Queen Elizabeth, and remained one of the Crown
Jewels of England through several reigns, and escaped the depredations
of the Commonwealth. In 1669 it was still in the possession of Henrietta
Maria, widow of Charles I, and was by her entrusted to the Earl of
Somerset, who handed it over to James II. When that monarch fled to
France he took the Sanci with him and sold it to Louis XIV for £25,000.
It long remained amongst the French Crown Jewels, and in 1791 was valued
at £40,000. In the year 1835 the diamond passed to Russia, being
purchased by Prince Demidoff for £75,000. Then in 1865 the Sanci
returned to India, whence it probably originally came, being sold by the
Demidoffs to Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy, a rich Parsee of Bombay. From him
it was bought by the Maharajah of Patiala, at what price is not known,
and is still in that prince’s possession, and may be seen on the front
of his turban on State occasions.
The Great Moghul originally weighed 787 carats, but when seen in the
treasury of the Emperor Aurungzebe in 1665 by Tavernier it had been cut
down to an estimated weight of 280 carats. It appears to have been given
to the Emperor Shah Jehan by the Amir Jumba. It is by some supposed to
be a portion cleaved off the Koh-i-Nur by some great convulsion of
nature in remote ages long before either were discovered. The diamond is
believed to be at present in the possession of the Shah of Persia.
The Regent or Pitt diamond was found either in Borneo or India, and
weighed then 410 carats. It was bought by Mr. Pitt, Governor of Madras,
for £20,400, and was subsequently sold in 1717 to the Duc d’Orleans,
Regent of France, for £80,000. In the process of cutting the diamond was
reduced to 136-14/16 carats, and was amongst the French Crown Jewels
stolen during the Revolution. Later it was recovered, and is still
believed to be in France.
The Hope diamond is a beautiful blue brilliant weighing 44-1/4 carats,
and is one of those stones which is reputed to bring bad luck to its
owner. It formed part of the collection of Mr. H. T. Hope, who bought it
for £18,000, and after whom it is named. The stone was last heard of in
the possession of an American, and quite recently the newspapers gave an
account of a small child being killed in a street accident, the child
being the only son of the owner of the Hope diamond.
Pearls are not like diamonds or other hard stones, which, having gone
through periods of thousands of years under enormous pressure deep down
in the earth, can now last for thousands more with undiminished lustre
set in a ring or a crown, exposed to the free air of this terrestrial
globe. The pearl is really only a sort of disease, or perhaps to put it
more mildly a distemper, or milder still a pastime, on the part of the
pearl oyster. A large pearl naturally takes many years to form inside
the oyster’s shell, whilst small ones take so many years less. Even in
one or two years a foreign substance, say a small shot, will, if placed
in a pearl oyster, become to all appearance a pearl of high price. Even
minute effigies of elephants and Bhuddhas when introduced will, in the
course of a few months, be thinly but completely coated with pearl
lustre. The true and valuable pearl also had a nucleus, probably a grain
of sand, and this year after year has been covered with thin coatings of
pearl lustre, so that small or large it is practically solid, so solid
that it cannot be broken if trodden upon. But even so it is merely the
product of decades, and has not the lasting-power of diamonds, or
rubies, or sapphires, or emeralds.
A marked example of the comparatively short life of pearls is furnished
by a very celebrated one known as the Pearl of Portugal. This pearl was
as large as a pigeon’s egg and of that shape, and naturally at its
zenith was of enormous value. Seen a few years ago by an expert, he
described it as having deteriorated into nothing more valuable than a
piece of chalk of the same size and shape. Owners of valuable pearls
will immediately exclaim: “Oh! but that is because it was not constantly
worn next the skin.” There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of women who
religiously wear their pearls next their skins all day, and some even at
night, under the impression that they are so preserved. One of the
highest experts in pearls and precious stones, however, puts this custom
on a much lower plane. He says that the wearing of pearls next the skin
is no doubt good as a burnisher, likening, from a purely commercial
point of view, a woman’s skin to a finer form of chamois leather. But as
to any preservative quality in the contact he will have none of it.
Queen Elizabeth’s earrings, the four great pearls which hang beneath the
arch in the King’s State Crown, are, therefore, apart from their
personal connection, of considerable interest, as regards the life of a
pearl as a gem of value. These pearls have probably never been worn next
the skin, even of a Queen. They are drop-shaped and manifestly only
suitable for earrings or pendants. Yet though Queen Elizabeth died more
than three hundred years ago they are still in good preservation. Thus
they may remain for several centuries more if, as at present, they are
kept in a perfectly air-tight compartment at an even temperature. But at
best they can never outlive a diamond.
The exact history of these pearls is difficult to follow, and it is more
by tradition and indirect evidence that it is assumed that they came
from Queen Elizabeth. That great lady was, as all her pictures show,
fond of pearls. She was a great Sea Queen, and we may be assured that
her captains who quartered the globe brought home any great pearl they
came across from distant seas or lands, knowing it would find a Royal
purchaser. James I probably had not much use for pearls, except to horde
them, but they seem not to have been amongst the Crown Jewels which he
succeeded to, for they are not mentioned in the careful list that
monarch made out in his own handwriting, and signed both at head and
foot. This is understandable, for the pearls were Queen Elizabeth’s
private property to bequeath to whom she pleased. It is not clear
whether Charles I ever had these pearls, but the suggestion is that he
had, and that he disposed of them to meet his necessities in his wars
against Cromwell. Into whose hands they fell is a matter for conjecture
as well as how they passed through the next century, for the next
portrayal that we come across of them is in the State Crown of another
great Queen, Victoria.
They hung as pendants beneath the cross of the arches of the crown, one
at each corner. Here they were retained by Edward VII, and still occupy
the same position in the State Crown of George V.
What wonderful stories those pearls could tell! Of the Great Armada and
the pride of that great victory; of the bloody days of Charles I, and of
his tragic death outside the window at Whitehall; of the gay days of
Charles II, and the long and prosperous reign of Queen Victoria. But in
all those centuries they probably had no greater adventures or dangers
than they experienced together with the other Crown Jewels during the
Great War of 1914-19.
The safe place in the Tower chosen for them by Edward VII is
burglar-proof, fireproof, and proof against alarms and excursions; but
when William the Conqueror built the Tower, he had undoubtedly never
expected that it might be subject to an attack from the air. Even so he
had made his roofs so thick and strong that a dropping cannon-ball might
well be rebuffed. The pearls and their comrades the gems therefore
looked on with calm toleration whilst the Germans waged and raged for
four years over them. Indeed, they had got quite accustomed to this
aerial bombardment, for though bombs fell close around them, still a
miss is as good as a mile. It was only just towards the end of the war
that news came which made the soldiers think that larger and heavier and
more destructive bombs were likely to be used by the Germans. Then
William the Conqueror, walking in the pleasant fields of heaven, said to
Queen Elizabeth: “I am sorry, but I am afraid my walls and roofs cannot
keep these out. You had better send your pearls away to one of the other
palaces of the King, out in the open country.” So the pearls and their
consorts one day without any fuss just slipped off and went to stay at
Windsor till the war was over. That William the Conqueror and Queen
Elizabeth were wise in their decision was obvious, for leaning over the
ramparts of heaven they saw one great bomb fall into the Tower moat on
the west, another they saw hit the railings on the edge of the moat to
the north, whilst a third hit the Mint across the road to the east, and
a fourth dropped within a few yards of the Jewel House into the river to
the south. The next might have sent several million pounds’ worth of
jewels to God knows where.
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