DIAMOND-CUTTING AT AMSTERDAM.
There is something in the business of diamond-cutting that appeals
strongly to the imagination.
It must be extremely interesting to see the precious stones at the
mines disclosing themselves to the anxious seekers. Any chance blow
of the pick may bring to light a mate for the Koh-i-noor, the Orloff,
the Shah, the Sancy, the Pitt, the Hope, or any other of the great
diamonds of the world. In a moment the digger may become a rich man.
His occupation has all the excitement of gambling, with the essential
difference in his favor that he can make a steady living at it,
though he may fail to draw one of the capital prizes. Work in the
diamond-fields of Brazil and South Africa is a legitimate pursuit,
and, when well directed, wrests a subsistence from the stony earth as
surely as from a corn-patch or a cabbage-garden. It is, perhaps, more
seductive to the outside observer than to the fellow down there in the
pit who does all the grubbing.
The traveler who can not make it convenient to go to South Africa or
Brazil to see diamonds found, may, by visiting Amsterdam, see them
cut. That old Dutch city--famous for its grave men, its plump women,
its dikes, its canals, its quaint houses, its commercial push, its
thrift and consequent wealth--enjoys the unique distinction of cutting
the diamonds of the world. Within a few years some other cities have
engaged in the business in a small way. But Coster, of Amsterdam,
still handles most of the rough stones which reach Europe. At his
establishment the Koh-i-noor was recut, and its latent fire fully
revealed. He gave to the Star of the South--the largest stone ever
unearthed in Brazil--the blaze of light which justifies its brilliant
name. He may truly be said to find the real diamond under the dull,
opaque crust which often hides its glow in the native state. He is even
more the discoverer of its beauties than the man who picked it out of
its gravelly bed.
If Baedeker had given me some account of Coster’s way of cutting
diamonds, I might not have taken the trouble to look him up in
Amsterdam, where there are so many other things to claim the tourist’s
attention. But, in the absence of such information, I was impelled to
seek it for myself.
In books one may see pictures of diamond-mining in Brazil, where the
slaves are represented as toiling with shovels and hoes in rich
gravel, while overseers stand in sentry-boxes all about, watching
every movement of the men lest they may conceal some gem in their
scanty clothing. He wonders if they keep up that kind of espionage at
Coster’s, where the opportunities for stealing diamonds must be very
great. I supposed there would be some difficulty in gaining admission
to a place where pecks of stones were lying round loose in various
stages of treatment, and even the air was full of diamond-dust. This
was romance. Now let us look at the reality.
Coster offers no obstacle to the inquiring mind. It is only understood
that a small sum of money--a guilder (thirty-eight cents) is the proper
size of it--must be paid to the superintendent, who turns it over to
a fund for the good of the workmen. Every person who bears in his
face and clothes evidence of his ability to stand that assessment is
admitted and made welcome; and, if he has a lady with him, that is the
best voucher of his pecuniary responsibility.
The man who piloted us about Coster’s spoke English, and made himself
agreeable. He first showed a handful of stones in the rough. As he
tossed them down carelessly on a table, I thought they were bits of gum
or grains of tapioca. Not one of them sparkled. Their hue was generally
a dirty yellow; only a few were milk-white; some were cream-colored.
Invited to examine the stones, I took them into my hand with some
reluctance, and kept my eye all the time on the exhibitor, being afraid
he might turn his head, or be called off to another part of the room,
and leave me in possession of those treasures, with a blind confidence
in my integrity. I trust it would not have been misplaced, but do not
want to take charge of a handful of diamonds, even temporarily, for
anybody else. There was no need of anxiety on this score, for the man’s
gaze was never once withdrawn from that valuable property.
It was hard to realize that those poor-looking scraps of mineral were
diamonds--some worth one thousand dollars apiece when cut. Not one of
them was a perfect crystal, a pair of pyramids set base to base, of
which we see diagrams in the books. The edges had mostly been worn away
by much rolling in water, as one would say, their general appearance
being that of pebbles smoothed in a brook. But, on close inspection,
remains of the original crystalline shape were always detected. Every
diamond still retained rudimentary cutting edges, which are all that
is left of the old sharp lines. As they rested in my palm, they felt
cold as ice. As they struck against one another in moving them about,
they emitted faint, musical sounds; and their weight was remarkable
for their bulk. These peculiarities would attract the notice of the
most ignorant person. He would know that the stones in his hand were
out of the common. But it would be safe to bet that, if they were
thrown down by the quart in the streets among other stones, they would
pass unnoticed by persons not familiar with the appearance of uncut
diamonds. The experiment, however, is not likely to be made.
After examining this handful of diamonds, one has no desire to see any
more in the rough. He could look at a cart-load of them without the
least emotion. They do not excite that feeling of cupidity which is
said to exist, however passive, in every human breast.
Our guide then led us into a room where we saw the first process of
cutting. Several men were engaged in this work, which requires great
experience, judgment, and skill. It is there that the shape of the
polished stones is decided upon--whether it shall be a brilliant with
many flashing facets, or a rose with but few. Here the faults, if
any, of each stone are discovered by unerring eyes, and the defective
parts chipped away. We stood by the side of one of the men while he
disposed of what seemed a very knotty question. He held between thumb
and finger a stone as large as a filbert. To the uninstructed eye it
was a lump of gum arabic, with a certain symmetry of outline showing
its old octahedral form. After turning it over and inspecting it
critically, he put it in a little vise before him, and screwed the jaws
tightly together. Then he took a light, sharp chisel in one hand and a
small hammer in the other. He could not have looked more unconcerned
if he had been about to crack an after-dinner walnut. My heart was
in my mouth when I saw him apply his chisel to the diamond and give
it a smart tap with the hammer. What if he should break the stone in
pieces, instead of removing a defective fraction of it! The guide had
said it was a twenty-carat diamond, and believed to be of the first
water. But the operation, hazardous as it appeared, was easy to the
skilled artisan, and was successful. He had struck the diamond exactly
on the line of cleavage, and a thin piece fell into a box sunk into
the table just beneath the vise, and intended for the reception of the
chips. The man picked it out, and I saw at a glance that it was full
of black specks. These were uncrystallized carbon, like coal-dust, the
presence of which would have spoiled the stone when cut. He then showed
me the freshly exposed surface of the diamond. The rough, yellowish
scale of the imperfect portion having been removed, one could see
something of the true sparkle of the gem, though its full luminous
effect would be evoked only by the polishing process. Sometimes it is
necessary to detach a spotty part by working in a direction other than
the cleavage-line; then the hammer and chisel are of no avail. The
operator resorts to a saw, which, strangely enough, is toothless. It is
nothing more than a fine steel wire, perhaps double the thickness of a
hair. This wire is kept moistened by olive-oil, in which diamond-dust
has been mixed. As it is moved forth and back, saw-like, across the
surface, the dust supplies the place of teeth, and the metallic thread
slowly buries itself in that hardest of stones.
The truth of the adage, “Diamond cuts diamond,” was made clear to us by
the spectacle of six men illustrating it. Each man held in each hand
a short stick, having at the end a socket filled with lead or some
easily melted alloy. The diamond to be cut is partly sunk below the
surface of this fusible metal while it is still in a molten condition,
and just before it cools; and, when the metal “sets,” there is the
diamond immovably imbedded, with enough of its surface exposed to
enable the operator to attack it with another diamond, which is fixed
in another stick the same way. Each diamond is to cut the other, and
thus two stones are simultaneously prepared for the market. When the
exposed parts of the two diamonds have been cut by each other as far
as possible, then the soft metal in the iron sockets is melted, the
stones are released and turned to bring the uncut sides uppermost, and
the work proceeds as before. This is the most tedious stage of the
business. One watches the men by the half-hour, and sees them make but
little progress as they press one diamond against the other with all
the power in their arms, and rub the two slowly together with a faint,
crunching noise. If the sunlight falls upon the scene, one may notice
certain glistening motes dropping into a little pan beneath their
hands. This is the dust of diamonds, which is most carefully saved up
to be used in the polishing, the final stage; and, whatever chippings
or splinters are obtained here or elsewhere in handling diamonds, are
pulverized in agate mortars for the same purpose.
At intervals the workmen pause to look at the diamonds, to see how they
are getting on. We observe them at a little distance, and notice the
adamantine luster of the facets. Already it is possible to pick out an
uncommonly fine stone by its cold, steel-blue light.
The most interesting department of Coster’s is the one where the
polishing is done. Here, at last, you may look into the hearts of the
diamonds freed from their grosser vestments. Here, if anywhere, the
spectator is apt to be stirred with unholy covetousness. If he has a
lady with him, she would be more than human if she did not sometimes
cry out, “How splendid!” “Just too lovely for anything!” and ask the
guide how much a pair of such diamonds would cost, pointing at a
perfect beauty that would weigh ten carats, sure. Cases are reported
in which husbands, at that stage of the rounds, have hurried up their
investigations, suddenly finding that they have no time to “look it
all through, my dear.” And, even when they have torn themselves and
the partners of their lives away from the scene of fascination, they
have not heard the last of Coster’s diamonds by a great deal. At any
moment, anywhere, while looking at the marble or bronze effigies of a
cathedral, or hunting among church-yard tombs for quaint inscriptions,
or rapturously gazing at some Madonna which is the glory of a
picture-gallery--when the mind ought to be filled with the most solemn
thoughts--one may hear the question, “Weren’t they splendid?”
“What, my dear?” says the dull being who never takes a hint.
“Why, those diamonds at Coster’s!”
“Oh, yes, I remember--quite pretty.” And then the insensate husband,
perhaps, instead of pursuing the interesting subject, begs leave to
recall the fair one’s wandering attention to the beautiful carving on
that ancient tomb, or the seraphic expression of the Virgin’s eyes, etc.
It has been said that there is one way to stop a mouth which babbles
too much of Coster’s. A kiss will do it, without fail, if followed
up by a gift of something in diamonds, according to the means or
generosity of the donor. But this is doubtless the slander of a cynic,
and repeated here only under protest.
The polishers are about twenty strong. They are mostly young fellows,
who do not require glasses. Sharp eye-sight is the indispensable
qualification for their work. They are all hanging over horizontal
wheels which are driven at tremendous speed. Upon these revolving disks
they are pressing something very forcibly with both hands. It is a
stick with a diamond imbedded in the head thereof--the same that we
have seen in the cutting-room. Sometimes the workman releases one hand,
and takes a feather from a cup by his side. This has been soaking in
olive-oil, in which there is an ingredient of diamond-dust. He lets a
few drops of it fall on the flying wheel at a point near its center
or axis of motion. The centrifugal force at once scatters the oil and
the included dust all over the surface in a barely perceptible film.
Its tendency is to be thrown off the edge of the wheel but this is
prevented by a raised rim, which keeps it all somewhere on the disk.
Without the application of this mixture the diamond would never get a
polish.
As we stood looking down the line of the polishers, who in turn glanced
from their work at us, the guide made a signal to one of them. He at
once withdrew his diamond from the wheel, wiped it on a leather apron,
and brought it to us for examination. It was a large stone--fifteen
carats, perhaps--which had been polished enough to show its native
worth. Its color was a yellow, so deep as to convert into a merit
what would otherwise have been a great defect. Had the tint been
that of straw instead of orange, its selling value would have been
small. But as it was extremely yellow, even for a South African stone,
connoisseurs would be sure to want it for their collections. There
would, perhaps, be a competition for the treasure. Strange caprice of
fancy which elevates a fault into a virtue!
Another signal from the guide brought forward a diamond of a very
different sort. It was much more to my taste than the other. As the man
put the stick into my hand, the end of it seemed to blaze. It shone
so vividly that its size could not clearly be made out. Apparently
it was larger than the yellow one. But the guide informed me that
the polished surface of this stone was much the smaller. Its finer
water imparted the wonderful brilliancy I had noticed. From its facets
leaped coruscations that dazzled the eye like gleams of lightning. It
needed no expert to tell one that here was a diamond of the rarest
quality--something that might fairly be claimed to stand first on the
list of those twenty-odd grades into which the white stones are divided
by the dealers. I could not refrain from touching it with the tip of a
finger before the guide could warn me. The contact, which was but for
an instant, blistered the skin, so great was the heat caused by the
friction of polishing. It was a pleasure to know that this peerless
gem--about eight carats when finished--would be worth far more to adorn
the neck or bosom of beauty than the bigger yellow one of the rare
shade, destined only for the cabinet of some whimsical male collector.
After the exhibition of this perfect diamond to our wondering gaze,
anything of lesser splendor would have failed to please. So we bade
farewell to Coster’s, after paying a visit to the graceful steam-engine
which supplies the motive power for all the disks that are kept
whirling on the busy second floor. There are other floors of the
same establishment where other work is done. There is a great safe
down in the basement, which is opened for you, disclosing boxes and
bags holding treasures to the extent of as many million dollars as
you choose to imagine. Every well-regulated visitor at Coster’s is
pleased to pay the complimentary fee expected of him, when he knows
that it goes to the benefit of the workmen; for, if his eyes have been
open to anything besides diamonds, he must have noticed intelligence,
sobriety, and honesty written in their faces. Then he understands that
at Coster’s there is a better guarantee for the security of diamonds
against theft and loss than if an overseer stood watching each squad of
men with pistol in hand.
APPENDIX.
CONSTITUTIONAL GOVERNMENT FOR RUSSIA.
(SEE CHAPTER XXVIII.)
It is a matter of common report and belief, in Russia, that the
experiment of a constitutional government would have been made on the
accession of Alexander III, but for the opposition of his ministers.
His father was strongly disposed to establish a representative body of
the people, and a responsible ministry. This reform would have been
a crowning of that edifice, the building of which was cut short by
his murderers. The present Tsar desired to carry out this inherited
scheme, but before acting deemed it prudent to take the collective
opinion of his cabinet. This fact shows his readiness to receive advice
on important questions. He mentioned his own preference, but declared
that he would be guided by a majority opinion. This was adverse to
the proposed change. So ended, for the time being, a movement of the
greatest significance.
The Tsar is said to be the strongest man in his dominions. Mythical
stories are told of his ability to straighten out horseshoes with his
naked hands, and double up silver pieces between his thumb and finger.
Those who know him testify to his high personal courage. The seclusion
of which we hear so much is, after all, only nominally observed. The
careful precautions against Nihilists are adopted by the chief of
police, who charges himself with the safety of his master. Alexander
III attends military reviews and public ceremonies of church and state.
He goes where duty calls him. He is seen more often in the streets and
parks of St. Petersburg than Queen Victoria in those of London. She,
too, is guarded at such times by soldiers and policemen, and no one
thinks the protection superfluous. The Tsar, in all his movements,
is hedged about with no more restrictions than seem to be needed for
the security of a man who is known to be pursued by a sworn band of
assassins. If he is as strong and brave as reported, it would be
strange if he lacked decision of character. Once resolved on conforming
the imperial system to the more modern type, he may not again be
dissuaded by any ministry from executing that beneficent design.
There is no doubt that, if unmistakable public opinion in Russia
should call for this great change, it would be made. It remains
to be ascertained if a majority of her people really want those
constitutional forms for which the heart of civilized man everywhere
is supposed to yearn. If so, Russia, fortunately, has the machinery at
hand for the gratification of her longings. Every _Tir_, or commune,
now possesses the full power of self-government in economic and
strictly local affairs. The village elders, who are true home-rulers,
are chosen by the people. In every province or department of Russia the
same principle is illustrated on a larger scale. It is only in respect
to imperial or political issues that the autocracy makes itself felt.
The citizens of Moscow, for example, may do many things at their own
expense for which we of New York are obliged to crave permission of the
Legislature.
Accustomed to govern themselves within a certain range, the Russians
could easily be fitted for participation in the higher duties which
a constitutional government would impose upon them. A lower House
could be evolved from the seeds of the _Tir_. An upper House could be
created by the Tsar out of abundant existing materials. Thus, without
any violent metamorphosis, liberal institutions might be introduced
into Russia. They may come, as a spontaneous offering from the throne,
sooner than their most sanguine friends in the empire now expect.
THE END.