The greater part of the flowers which adorn our gardens have been
brought to us from the Levant. A few have been procured from other
parts of the world; and some of our own indigenous plants, that grow
wild, have, by care and cultivation, been so much improved as to merit
a place in our parterres. Our ancestors, perhaps, some centuries
ago paid attention to flowers; but it appears that the Orientals,
and particularly the Turks, who in other respects are not very
susceptible of the inanimate beauties of nature, were the first people
who cultivated a variety of them in their gardens for ornament and
pleasure. From their gardens, therefore, have been procured the most of
those which decorate ours; and amongst these is the tulip.
Few plants acquire through accident, weakness, or disease, so many
tints, variegations, and figures, as the tulip. When uncultivated, and
in its natural state, it is almost of one colour, has large leaves,
and an extraordinary long stem. When it has been weakened by culture,
it becomes more agreeable in the eyes of the florist. The petals are
then paler, more variegated, and smaller; the leaves assume a fainter
or softer green colour: and this masterpiece of culture, the more
beautiful it turns, grows so much the weaker; so that, with the most
careful skill and attention, it can with difficulty be transplanted,
and even scarcely kept alive.
That the tulip grows wild in the Levant, and was thence brought to
us, may be proved by the testimony of many writers. Busbequius found
it on the road between Adrianople and Constantinople[41]; Shaw found
it in Syria, in the plains between Jaffa and Rama; and Chardin on the
northern confines of Arabia. The early-blowing kinds, it appears, were
brought to Constantinople from Cavala, and the late-blowing from Caffa;
and on this account the former are called by the Turks _Cavalá lalé_,
and the latter _Café lalé_. Caval is a town on the eastern coast of
Macedonia, of which Paul Lucas gives some account; and Caffa is a town
in the Crimea, or peninsula of Gazaria, as it was called, in the middle
ages, from the Gazares, a people very little known[42].
Though florists have published numerous catalogues of the species of
the tulip, botanists are acquainted only with two, or at most three,
of which scarcely one is indigenous in Europe[43]. All those found
in our gardens have been propagated from the species named after that
learned man, to whom natural history is so much indebted, the Linnæus
of the sixteenth century, Conrad Gesner, who first made the tulip known
by a botanical description and a figure. In his additions to the works
of Valerius Cordus, he tells us that he saw the first in the beginning
of April 1559, at Augsburg, in the garden of the learned and ingenious
counsellor John Henry Herwart. The seeds had been brought from
Constantinople, or, according to others, from Cappadocia. This flower
was then known in Italy under the name of tulipa, or tulip, which is
said to be of Turkish extraction, and given to it on account of its
resembling a turban[44].
Balbinus asserts that Busbequius brought the first tulip-roots to
Prague, from which they were afterwards spread all over Germany[45].
This is not improbable; for Busbequius says, in a letter written in
1554, that this flower was then new to him; and it is known that
besides coins and manuscripts he collected also natural curiosities,
and brought them with him from the Levant. Nay, he tells us that he
paid very dear to the Turks for these tulips; but I do not find he
anywhere says that he was the first who brought them from the East.
In the year 1565 there were tulips in the garden of M. Fugger, from
whom Gesner wished to procure some[46]. They first appeared in
Provence, in France, in the garden of the celebrated Peyresc, in the
year 1611[47].
After the tulip was known, Dutch merchants, and rich people at Vienna,
who were fond of flowers, sent at different times to Constantinople for
various kinds. The first roots planted in England were sent thither
from Vienna, about the end of the sixteenth century, according to
Hakluyt[48]; who is, however, wrong in ascribing to Clusius the honour
of having first introduced them into Europe; for that naturalist only
collected and described all the then known species.
These flowers, which are of no further use than to ornament gardens,
which are exceeded in beauty by many other plants, and whose duration
is short and very precarious, became, in the middle of the 17th
century, the object of a trade such as is not to be met with in the
history of commerce, and by which their price rose above that of the
most precious metals. An account of this trade has been given by many
authors; but by all late ones it has been misrepresented. People laugh
at the Tulipomania[49], because they believe that the beauty and rarity
of the flowers induced florists to give such extravagant prices: they
imagine that the tulips were purchased so excessively dear in order
to ornament gardens; but this supposition is false, as I shall show
hereafter.
This trade was not carried on throughout all Europe, but in some cities
of the Netherlands, particularly Amsterdam, Haarlem, Utrecht, Alkmaar,
Leyden, Rotterdam, Hoorn, Enkhuysen, and Meedenblick; and rose to the
greatest height in the years 1634-37[50]. Munting has given, from some
of the books kept during that trade, a few of the prices then paid, of
which I shall present the reader with the following. For a root of
that species called the Viceroy the after-mentioned articles, valued as
below expressed, were agreed to be delivered:--
Florins.
2 lasts of wheat 448
4 ditto rye 558
4 fat oxen 480
3 fat swine 240
12 fat sheep 120
2 hogsheads of wine 70
4 tons of beer 32
2 ditto butter 192
1000 pounds of cheese 120
a complete bed 100
a suit of clothes 80
a silver beaker 60
----
Sum 2500
These tulips afterwards were sold according to the weight of the roots.
Four hundred perits[51] of Admiral Leifken cost 4400 florins; 446 ditto
of Admiral Von der Eyk, 1620 florins; 106 perits Schilder cost 1615
florins; 200 ditto Semper Augustus, 5500 florins; 410 ditto Viceroy,
3000 florins, &c. The species Semper Augustus has been often sold for
2000 florins; and it once happened that there were only two roots of
it to be had, the one at Amsterdam and the other at Haarlem. For a
root of this species, one agreed to give 4600 florins, together with a
new carriage, two gray horses, and a complete harness. Another agreed
to give for a root twelve acres of land; for those who had not ready
money, promised their moveable and immoveable goods, houses and lands,
cattle and clothes. A man whose name Munting once knew, but could not
recollect, won by this trade more than 60,000 florins in the course of
four months. It was followed not only by mercantile people, but also by
the first noblemen, citizens of every description, mechanics, seamen,
farmers, turf-diggers, chimney-sweeps, footmen, maid-servants and old
clothes-women, &c. At first, every one won and no one lost. Some of
the poorest people gained in a few months houses, coaches and horses,
and figured away like the first characters in the land. In every town
some tavern was selected which served as a ’Change, where high and low
traded in flowers, and confirmed their bargains with the most sumptuous
entertainments. They formed laws for themselves, and had their notaries
and clerks.
When the nature of this trade is considered, it will readily be
perceived, that to get possession of these flowers was not the real
object of it, though many have represented it in that light. The price
of tulips rose always higher from the year 1634 to the year 1637; but
had the object of the purchaser been to get possession of the flowers,
the price in such a length of time must have fallen instead of risen.
“Raise the prices of the productions of agriculture, when you wish
to reduce them,” says Young; and in this he is undoubtedly right,
for a great consumption causes a greater reproduction. This has been
sufficiently proved by the price of asparagus at Göttingen. As it
was much sought after, and large prices paid for it, more of it was
planted, and the price has fallen. In like manner plantations of tulips
would have in a short time been formed in Holland, and florists would
have been able to purchase flowers at a much lower price. But this was
not done; and the chimney-sweeper, who threw aside his besom, did not
become a gardener, though he was a dealer in flowers. Roots would have
been imported from distant countries, as asparagus was from Hanover
and Brunswick to Göttingen; the high price would have induced people
to go to Constantinople to purchase roots, as the Europeans travel to
Golconda and Visapour to procure precious stones; but the dealers in
tulips confined themselves to their own country, without thinking of
long journeys. I will allow that a flower might have become scarce, and
consequently dearer; but it would have been impossible for the price
to rise to a great height, and continue so for a year. How ridiculous
would it have been to purchase useless roots with their weight of gold,
if the possession of the flower had been the only object! Great is the
folly of mankind; but they are not fools without a cause, as they would
have been under such circumstances.
During the time of the Tulipomania, a speculator often offered and
paid large sums for a root which he never received, and never wished
to receive. Another sold roots which he never possessed or delivered.
Oft did a nobleman purchase of a chimney-sweep tulips to the amount of
2000 florins, and sell them at the same time to a farmer; and neither
the nobleman, chimney-sweep or farmer had roots in their possession, or
wished to possess them. Before the tulip season was over, more roots
were sold and purchased, bespoke and promised to be delivered, than in
all probability were to be found in the gardens of Holland; and when
Semper Augustus was not to be had, which happened twice, no species
perhaps was oftener purchased and sold. In the space of three years, as
Munting tells us, more than ten millions were expended in this trade in
only one town of Holland.
To understand this gambling traffic, it may be necessary to make the
following supposition. A nobleman bespoke of a merchant a tulip-root,
to be delivered in six months, at the price of 1000 florins. During
these six months the price of that species of tulip must have risen or
fallen, or remained as it was. We shall suppose that at the expiration
of that time the price was 1500 florins; in that case the nobleman did
not wish to have the tulip, and the merchant paid him 500 florins,
which the latter lost and the former won. If the price was fallen
when the six months were expired, so that a root could be purchased
for 800 florins, the nobleman then paid to the merchant 200 florins,
which he received as so much gain; but if the price continued the
same, that is 1000 florins, neither party gained or lost. In all these
circumstances, however, no one ever thought of delivering the roots
or of receiving them. Henry Munting, in 1636, sold to a merchant at
Alkmaar, a tulip-root for 7000 florins, to be delivered in six months;
but as the price during that time had fallen, the merchant paid,
according to agreement, only ten per cent. “So that my father,” says
the son, “received 700 florins for nothing; but he would much rather
have delivered the root itself for 7000.” The term of these contracts
was often much shorter, and on that account the trade became brisker.
In proportion as more gained by this traffic, more engaged in it;
and those who had money to pay to one, had soon money to receive of
another; as at faro, one loses upon one card, and at the same time
wins on another. The tulip-dealers often discounted sums also, and
transferred their debts to one another; so that large sums were paid
without cash, without bills, and without goods, as by the _Virements_
at Lyons. The whole of this trade was a game at hazard, as the
Mississippi trade was afterwards, and as stock-jobbing is at present.
The only difference between the tulip-trade and stock-jobbing is, that
at the end of the contract the price in the latter is determined by
the Stock-exchange; whereas in the former it was determined by that at
which most bargains were made. High- and low-priced kinds of tulips
were procured, in order that both the rich and the poor might gamble
with them; and the roots were weighed by perits, that an imagined
whole might be divided, and that people might not only have whole,
but half and quarter lots. Whoever is surprised that such a traffic
should become general, needs only to reflect upon what is done where
lotteries are established, by which trades are often neglected, and
even abandoned, because a speedier mode of getting fortunes is pointed
out to the lower classes. In short, the tulip-trade may very well serve
to explain stock-jobbing, of which so much is written in gazettes,
and of which so many talk in company without understanding it; and I
hope, on that account, I shall be forgiven for employing so much time
in illustrating what I should otherwise have considered as below my
notice[52].
At length, however, this trade fell all of a sudden. Among such a
number of contracts many were broken; many had engaged to pay more than
they were able; the whole stock of the adventurers was consumed by the
extravagance of the winners; new adventurers no more engaged in it; and
many, becoming sensible of the odious traffic in which they had been
concerned, returned to their former occupations. By these means, as
the value of tulips still fell, and never rose, the sellers wished to
deliver the roots _in natura_ to the purchasers at the prices agreed
on; but as the latter had no desire for tulips at even such a low rate,
they refused to take them or to pay for them. To end this dispute, the
tulip-dealers of Alkmaar sent in the year 1637 deputies to Amsterdam;
and a resolution was passed on the 24th of February, that all contracts
made prior to the last of November 1636 should be null and void; and
that, in those made after that date, purchasers should be free on
paying ten per cent. to the vender.
The more people became disgusted with this trade, the more did
complaints increase to the magistrates of the different towns; but
as the courts there would take no cognizance of it, the complainants
applied to the states of Holland and West Friesland. These referred the
business to the determination of the provincial council at the Hague,
which on the 27th of April 1637 declared that it would not deliver its
opinion on this traffic until it had received more information on the
subject; that in the mean time every vender should offer his tulips
to the purchaser; and, in case he refused to receive them, the vender
should either keep them, or sell them to another, and have recourse on
the purchaser for any loss he might sustain. It was ordered also, that
all contracts should remain in force till further inquiry was made. But
as no one could foresee what judgement would be given respecting the
validity of each contract, the buyers were more obstinate in refusing
payment than before; and venders, thinking it much safer to accommodate
matters amicably, were at length satisfied with a small profit instead
of exorbitant gain; and thus ended this extraordinary traffic, or
rather gambling.
It is however certain, that persons fond of flowers, particularly in
Holland, have paid, and still pay, very high prices for tulips, as
the catalogues of florists show[53]. This may be called the lesser
Tulipomania, which has given occasion to many laughable circumstances.
When John Balthasar Schuppe was in Holland, a merchant gave a herring
to a sailor who had brought him some goods. The sailor, seeing
some valuable tulip-roots lying about, which he considered as of
little consequence, thinking them to be onions, took some of them
unperceived, and ate them with his herring. Through this mistake the
sailor’s breakfast cost the merchant a much greater sum than if he
had treated the prince of Orange. No less laughable is the anecdote
of an Englishman who travelled with Matthews. Being in a Dutchman’s
garden, he pulled a couple of tulips, on which he wished to make
some botanical observations, and put them in his pocket; but he was
apprehended as a thief, and obliged to pay a considerable sum before he
could obtain his liberty[54].
Reimman and others accuse Just. Lipsius of the Tulipomania[55]; but
if by this word we understand that gambling traffic which I have
described, the accusation is unfounded. Lipsius was fond of scarce and
beautiful flowers, which he endeavoured to procure by the assistance
of his friends, and which he cultivated himself with great care in
his garden; but this taste can by no means be called a mania[56].
Other learned men of the same age were fond of flowers, such as John
Barclay[57], Pompeius de Angelis, and others, who would probably have
been so, even though the cultivation of flowers had not been the
prevailing taste. It however cannot be denied, that learned men may be
infected with epidemical follies. In the present age, many have become
physiognomists because physiognomy is in fashion; and even animal
magnetism has met with partisans to support it.