FRENCH REGALIA.
Previous to the time of the French Revolution, and commencing from
periods dating back beyond mediæval days, France had accumulated a
casket of gems and jewels of extraordinary richness and value. The
amateur may form an idea of their beauty and magnificence, from the
famous report made to the French Assembly by M. Delattre in 1791. In
this list there were enumerated with special care, 9,547 diamonds, 506
pearls, 230 rubies, 134 sapphires, 150 emeralds, 71 topazes, 3 Oriental
amethysts, 8 Syrian garnets, and 8 other stones not designated.
The estimated value of these treasures, together with the bijou and
mounted parures belonging to the Crown, amounted to nearly thirty
million francs. From this carefully arranged inventory, we have made
the following selection, which will be interesting to the reader at the
present day, as not only showing the estimated worth of the gems at
that time, but also describing some of the fine gems whose history has
since been lost.
+-----------------------------------------------+----------+----------+
| | Weight. | Value. |
| +----------+----------+
| | k. | fr. |
| | | |
| 1 A brilliant diamond called Le Regent | 136¹⁴⁄₁₆ |12,000,000|
| 2 A diamond cut in facets, perfect in lustre | | |
| and brilliancy, called Le Sancy | 33¹²⁄₁₆ |1,000,000 |
| 3 Diamond cut in facets | 28⁶⁄₁₆ | 250,000 |
| 4 A brilliant diamond | 26¹²⁄₁₆ | 150,000 |
| 5 A pear-shaped diamond, of a peach-blossom | | |
| hue | 24¹³⁄₁₆ | 200,000 |
| 6 A diamond called the Mirror of Portugal | 21²⁄₁₆ | 250,000 |
| 7 Pear-shaped diamond, of a yellowish cast | 20¹⁴⁄₁₆ | 65,000 |
| 8 Rose-colored diamond, with flaws | 20¹²⁄₁₆ | 48,000 |
| 9 An olive-shaped diamond, clear | 18¹³⁄₁₆ | 85,000 |
| 10 A brilliant, of a greenish cast, and flawed| 18¹¹⁄₁₆ | 20,000 |
| 11 A pale wine-colored brilliant | 18⁹⁄₁₆ | 75,000 |
| 12 A steel-colored brilliant | 17⁷⁄₁₆ | 18,000 |
| 13 Brilliant, cloudy | 17 | 50,000 |
| 14 The 10th Mazarin, cloudy | 16 | 50,000 |
| 15 A brilliant, of peach-blossom hue | 14¹⁴⁄₁₆ | 25,000 |
| 16 A fine white brilliant | 14¹⁴⁄₁₆ | 150,000 |
| 17 A brilliant, of peach-blossom hue | 14¹²⁄₁₆ | 30,000 |
| 18 Brilliant | 13¹⁰⁄₁₆ | 60,000 |
| 19 A brilliant, of brownish hue | 13⁸⁄₁₆ | 35,000 |
| 20 A brilliant, of yellowish hue | 11¹⁰⁄₁₆ | 15,000 |
| 21 A brilliant, of brownish hue | 11¹⁰⁄₁₆ | 10,000 |
| 22 Brilliant, of yellowish cast | 11⁶⁄₁₆ | 15,000 |
| 23 Brilliant, of peach-blossom hue | 11²⁄₁₆ | 10,000 |
| 24 Pale-blue brilliant | 10⁷⁄₁₆ | 30,000 |
| 25 Brilliant, of brownish hue | 10⁴⁄₁₆ | 25,000 |
| 26 White brilliant | 10 | 30,000 |
| 27 15 brilliants (of unknown weight) | ...... | 833,000 |
| 28 54 brilliants, each from | 5 to 10 | 756,000 |
| 29 227 brilliants, each from | 1 to 5 | 332,700 |
| 30 1,631 small diamonds, together | 425 | 77,228 |
| 31 12 diamonds, rose-cut and flawed | 84 | 82,700 |
| | | |
| ROYAL STATE DRESS, WHITE PARURE. | | |
| | | |
| 32 12 brilliants, each from | | |
| and 163 smaller ones | 2 to 20| 413,000 |
| 33 The Order of St. Esprit, 9 brilliants, | | |
| each from, and 286 smaller ones | 7 to 14 | 324,000 |
| 34 The Epaulette, composed of 12 brilliants, | | |
| each | 3 to 19 | 306,000 |
| 35 The Croix du Cordon, 6 large brilliants | | |
| and 143 smaller diamonds | ...... | 200,000 |
| | | |
| COLORED PARURE. | | |
| | | |
| 36 A rich sky-blue brilliant | 67²⁄₁₆ |3,000,000 |
| 37 Pale-blue brilliant | 31¹²⁄₁₆ | 300,000 |
| 38 Croix du Cordon, 13 large brilliants, | | |
| 362 smaller | ...... | 10,000 |
| 39 Epaulette, 9 large brilliants, 197 smaller | ...... | 47,000 |
| 40 Epée de diamonds, 2,189 rose-cut diamonds | 400 | 329,075 |
| 41 Diamond buttons, large and small | 552 | 294,851 |
| 42 Other diamonds of various qualities | ...... | 315,000 |
+-----------------------------------------------+----------+----------+
This magnificent and matchless collection was mysteriously stolen in
September, 1792, and many of the fine gems have not been recovered.
Neither has time yet divulged the authors of this bold theft, nor
explained clearly the motives that led to the act. The circumstances
connected with this celebrated robbery are interesting although
obscure. They are as follows:--
After the fearful and bloody scenes of the 10th of August and the
2d of September, fears were entertained by the Republican chiefs
concerning the safety of the public treasures. Therefore the building
which contained the gems was closed to the public; and the Commune of
Paris, representing the domain of the State, placed its seals upon
the apartments wherein were placed the crown, sceptre, the golden
wreath left by Cardinal Richelieu to Louis XIII., and a great number
of gems and bijou. On the morning of the 17th of September M. Sergent
and two other Commissioners of the Police perceived that during the
night thieves had entered the halls of the Garde Meuble by scaling the
colonnade from the side of the Place Louis XV., and opening the windows
on that side. They had broken the seals, picked the locks, and, after
removing many of the inestimable treasures, had disappeared, without
leaving a trace of their flight.
The city was thrown into consternation at the boldness of the act
and the magnitude of the robbery. Active and untiring search was at
once made, but not a trace of the plunder nor the least clew to the
perpetrators could be obtained.
Not long after, however, an anonymous letter revealed the information
that a part of the spoil was then secreted in a ditch beside one of the
alleys of the Champs d’Elysées. Sergent, with his colleagues, hastened
to the spot indicated, and found there the Regent diamond and the
magnificent agate cup then known as the Chalice of Abbé Suger.
Search was thus stimulated to further exertions, but without avail and
twelve years passed without affording the least clew to the robbers. At
this time a forgery was committed upon the Bank of France, and several
persons were arrested for the act. Among them was a veteran soldier who
had formerly served in the Pandours, and who was called by his comrades
“Baba.”
When arraigned before the court, Baba made the following singular
confession after betraying his accomplices in the forgery: “This is
not the first time,” he exclaimed in an excited manner, “that my
confessions have been useful to society; and if you condemn me I shall
implore the clemency of the Emperor. Without me Napoleon would not
be on the throne, for it is to me alone the success of the battle of
Marengo is due. I was one of the robbers of the Garde Meuble. I aided
my accomplices to bury in the ditch in the Champs d’Elysées the Regent
and the other objects which, being easily recognized, would have led
to detection. Upon the consideration of a promise which has been
perfectly kept, I revealed this hiding-place. The Regent was found;
and, gentlemen of the court, you are not ignorant of the fact that the
magnificent diamond was placed in the hands of the Dutch by the First
Consul to procure the funds which were so much needed after the 18th
Brumaire.”
Baba was nevertheless condemned to the galleys, but the sentence was
not enforced, and shortly afterwards he was sent to the prison in the
Bicêtre, where he remained until he died. Nothing further than this was
ever made known publicly, but suspicions of complicity in the robbery
were directed towards the Orleans family.
Napoleon, when crowned as Emperor, and with the wealth of Europe at
his command, made great efforts to restore the National regalia to
their former beauty and value. The various countries of Europe were
ransacked for the lost gems; and it is stated that a number of them
were recovered. Great numbers of other gems were also bought and added
to the Regalia; so that in 1810 the inventory of the Crown exhibited a
list of 37,393 precious stones.
The changes of the one hundred days and the Restoration left the
National property untouched. Under the reigns of Louis XVIII. and
Charles X. additions were made, and the casket contained 64,812 gems
and precious stones of all kinds. The inventory of 1849 presented
the same number of articles, with a total valuation of over twenty
millions of francs, without estimating the value of the bijou.
There must have been a large augmentation during this time, for the
present which Louis XVIII. ordered to be made deducted from the
collection diamonds of the value of three quarters of a million of
francs. This costly present was in the form of the Order of Saint
Esprit and constructed of superb diamonds.
Of the robbery of 1792, the Sancy diamond and the unique blue one of
sixty-seven karats have never been recovered. Since the inventory of
1810 two beautiful gems have also disappeared. One of these was the
magnificent opal which Josephine wore, and which was known as the
Burning of Troy. The other was the beautiful brilliant of thirty-four
karats which was obtained by M. Elias for Napoleon. This was the
much-loved gem which the Emperor is said to have carried with him on
his person, and which was asserted to have been lost in the rout at
Waterloo.
The magnificent blue diamond, which was regarded as one of the marvels
of the mineral kingdom, has never been recovered. Its early history
has also been lost, but the gem is believed to be the identical stone
which Tavernier brought from India and sold to Louis XIV. At that time
it was described as a gem of a beautiful violet hue, but of a bad form,
being flat and thin. Its weight in this condition was 112³⁄₁₆ karats,
which would probably afford a fine brilliant of the size of the missing
stone, 67²⁄₁₆ karats. History has failed to trace the wanderings of
this gem since its departure from the Louvre, but suspicion rests upon
the superb blue diamond which was in the possession of the English
banker, the late Mr. Hope. However, the English diamond weighs but
44¹⁄₂ karats. Therefore a loss of quite 22 karats was incurred in
recutting the stone in order to escape detection.
The Regent diamond, which was found uninjured in the ditch of the
Champs d’Elysées, is in reality the most beautiful diamond yet known
in the world. It is not the largest, but it is the most perfect of all
the paragons, being almost faultless in its transparency and purity, as
well as in its exact and symmetrical form.
It derives its name from the fact that it was purchased and added to
the French casket by the Regent of France. This magnificent gem was
found in the diamond mines of Puteal, about one hundred and thirty-five
miles from the city of Golconda. It weighed in its natural condition
four hundred and ten karats, but during the process of cutting it
was reduced to 136¹⁴⁄₁₆ karats. A Parsee merchant by the name of
Jamcund, who was a famous collector of diamonds, obtained possession
of the stone and brought it to Madras, where he sold it to the English
Governor, William Pitt, for $60,000. Pitt brought the stone safely
to London, and, after having had it cut, offered it for sale. The
Royal House of England declined to invest in the gem; but after long
negotiations the Duke of Orleans, Regent of France during the minority
of Louis XV., purchased it in 1717 for the sum of 3,375,000 francs.
Seventy-four years afterwards a commission of experts reckoned its
value at 12,000,000 francs, and even this enormous sum is exceeded by
the valuation of the present day.
Napoleon, after establishing his fortunes, redeemed the Regent from
the Dutch bankers, and had it set in the handle of the sword of state.
Since then it has been removed and so arranged in its setting as to be
placed at will either in the crown or used separately.
To the historian this beautiful gem is singularly interesting, for
it has indirectly exercised a mighty influence upon the destinies of
Europe and the progress of civilization. It was of infinite aid to
Napoleon after the 18th Brumaire; and probably without the help of
the little glittering pebble as a collateral for the Dutch loan, the
decisive battle of Marengo never would have been fought. And it is no
less certain that William Pitt, England’s Premier, never would have
been the leading statesman of Europe had not his grandfather acquired
the diamond in India and established the prosperity of his family by
its sale. Pitt was the master of European politics; and even after
his life was crushed out by the defeat at Austerlitz, the heritage of
his genius and his hate was apparent in every coalition, every blow,
against Napoleon that finally culminated at Waterloo. Therefore, in
reviewing the history of the Regent diamond, the philosopher might be
tempted to say that it was to the same gem, by a singular fatality or
caprice of fortune, the “Great Captain” indirectly owed his success and
his downfall.
The jewels belonging to the Crown of France, as collected and restored
by Napoleon, and increased by the good taste of the succeeding rulers
of the country, are of great beauty and value. It is, indeed, one of
the finest collections of Europe. The casket, at the present time,
contains sixty perfect diamonds, varying in weight from 25 to 28
karats, besides the splendid and matchless Regent. The actual crown
displays eight great diamonds of the purest water, weighing from 19 to
28 karats each, besides the Regent, which may be adapted at will.
During the Universal Exposition at Paris, in 1855, the jewels of the
Crown were displayed to the public. Many of the gems were mounted for
the occasion in new parures; and the arrangement presented one of the
most charming exhibitions ever seen in civilized countries.
We will now turn to the history of one of the lost diamonds of the
Crown, and relate the facts and hypotheses concerning it as fully as we
have been able to collect them. They form, indeed, a perplexing theme.
The beautiful diamond inventoried as the Sancy, and of the weight
of 33¹²⁄₁₆ karats and valued at 1,000,000 francs, was also stolen
and never recovered. This gem has been associated with the fortunes
of the redoubtable Burgundian warrior, Charles the Bold; and its
history has done more to perpetuate his name than the record of all
his misdeeds and his desperate battles. To prove, however, that this
is the identical gem lost to the Swiss will be a difficult task; for
the antiquaries have unearthed more Sancy diamonds than there were
“Richmonds in the field.” The name of Sancy has, indeed, become famous
by embracing in one story the fortunes of three distinct gems.
The erudite King has patiently traced out the traditions connected with
the name of Sancy, and appears to prove that three stories instead of
one are included in the history of Baron Sancy. But the stone that was
stolen from the French casket in 1792 is inventoried at the weight of
33¹²⁄₁₆ karats, while the gem that has lately gone back to India, and
is supposed to be the stolen gem, weighs quite 54 karats. Here is a
new mystery for the antiquaries to clear away; or did Delattre and his
associates, who made out this inventory with exceeding care, write 33
instead of 53?
The histories of these diamonds are so interesting that we will attempt
to repeat them here, following, in part, the views of Mr. King. Not
long after the invention, by Berquen, of diamond-cutting by the process
of abrasion, Charles the Bold, then in the full blaze of martial glory,
submitted to him three large rough diamonds. The native of Bruges
succeeded so well in polishing them, that Charles presented him with
the princely sum of 3,000 ducats.
One of these gems Charles gave to Pope Sextus IV., and it was mounted
in the Tiara, where it is said to remain. The second was presented to
Louis XI. of France; while the third was reserved by the Burgundian
hero, and set in a grotesque manner to be worn as a personal ornament.
This jewel, of true barbaric design, was formed of a triangular shape,
with the newly cut diamond in the centre. This diamond was ⁵⁄₈ of an
inch in its widest diameter, and was shaped as a pyramid, with the apex
cut into a four-rayed star in relief. Around the gem were set three
large Balais rubies and four magnificent pearls, each more than half an
inch in diameter.
One of the Fugger family, in 1555, made a careful drawing of the jewel,
with a written description of it, and these were afterwards published
by Lambeccius in his Bibliotheca Cæsarea; so there can be no doubt
about the appearance of the original diamond of Charles the Bold in its
early days.
When the Duke led his band of freebooters into Switzerland on his
long-projected foray, he took most of his gems along with him, not
dreaming of disaster, and probably loving to view his treasures even
amid the hardships of a campaign. Rough soldiers are sometimes as
fond of the beautiful in art and nature as more delicate and refined
organizations; and Charles the Bold and Suvaroff are not the only
examples.
The terrific onslaught of the Swiss at Grandson crushed the Burgundian
ranks so quickly that Charles had only time to escape with his sword,
leaving all his cherished treasures in the hands of the dauntless
mountaineers.
In the sack of the camp which speedily followed the rout, a soldier
found the golden box in which the famous pendant was kept, but
regarding the jewel as a gaudy and worthless bauble, he tossed it away
under a wagon, and retained the box only. Shortly afterwards he began
to suspect that the contents of so beautiful a box must have some
relative value, and returning to the place he recovered the despised
jewel. He did not long retain his treasure, but sold it to a priest
for one florin. The priest also did not appear to have a high regard
for his purchase, for he disposed of it to the magistrates of his own
canton for three francs.
When it became known that the Bernese Government had possession of
the Duke’s famous jewels, Jacob Fugger, one of the members of the
celebrated Nuremberg family, went to Bern and negotiated for their
purchase. The famous pendant, together with the Duke’s cap, which was
made of silk covered with pearls and Balais rubies, and a plume case
set with diamonds, pearls, and Balais rubies, were bought for the sum
of 47,000 francs. Fugger retained the pendant in his possession at
Nuremberg for many years, indulging in the hope, it has been said, that
the Duke’s great-grandson, the Emperor Charles V., would purchase it
as a family relic. When the celebrated capitalist died the ornament was
still in his possession; but his great-nephew, who inherited the jewel,
sold it to Henry VIII. of England. After the death of this monarch,
his daughter presented the diamond to her bridegroom; and thus, by a
remarkable coincidence, and after an absence of seventy-six years, the
royal gem is again restored to the rightful heir of its original owner.
So far the history of Sancy No. 1 can be clearly traced.
Now for the stories relating to the Sancy diamond No. 2. But, before
proceeding further in this interesting and misty search, we will
explain the history of the nobleman who has inseparably connected his
name with so many gems.
Nicolas Harlai, Seigneur de Sancy, was of French descent, and the
treasurer and intimate friend of King Henry IV. He had filled several
positions of high responsibility, and served as ambassador to several
of the Courts of Europe. He was also known as a man of culture, a lover
of the fine arts, and an amateur in gems.
In the year 1589, Baron Sancy is said to have obtained a large diamond
from the Pretender to the Crown of Portugal, as security for a loan
of one hundred thousand livres. The antiquaries have thus far failed
to ascertain whence this gem was obtained; but it cannot be supposed
that it was the identical jewel Philip II. of Spain had received from
the English Princess, for the Spaniard was then the bitterest foe of
Don Antonio. Furthermore, Philip, when dying, in 1598, ten years later
than the above-mentioned period, gave to the Infanta a diamond of great
beauty saying that it once belonged to Queen Mary of England. At all
events, it is quite certain that the French Baron had in his hands a
large and valuable diamond.
Not long after this acquisition, Henry IV. wished to engage the
services of a select body of Swiss soldiers, to serve in his army; and
as security for the pay of these hirelings, he sent the gem by a trusty
servant to Harlai, who was then in Switzerland. The faithful valet,
whilst on his way to Bern, was beset by robbers in the forests that
conceal the entrance to the pass of the Dôle, one of the mountains of
the Jura. He managed to swallow the diamond without being perceived by
the bandits, before he was stripped and assassinated.
The Baron, on learning the fate of his envoy, mistrusted that he had
resorted to this expedient of concealing his treasure. He therefore
sent a party of soldiers to the place, disinterred the body, and
recovered the gem. It was immediately placed in the hands of the Jews
of Metz, as security for a large sum of money; and it is also related
that the gem was never redeemed. Here ends the history of the second
Sancy; and no further account of it can be found.
Concerning the history of Sancy No. 3, it is related that when Baron
Sancy returned from Constantinople, where he had been as ambassador,
he exhibited a large and beautiful diamond, which he had acquired for
the sum of $120,000. This statement is somewhat obscure, from the fact
that the ambassador was not Harlai de Sancy, but his son Achille, who
was also sent on various missions by Richelieu during the years 1626
to 1635. However, it is certain that a new diamond was imported into
France by one of the Sancys, and that it was a remarkable gem. It was
described as being of the form of an almond, faceted all over its
surface with small facets, after the manner practised in India. The
weight of this gem has been variously stated; and these conflicting
statements have served to increase the mystery concerning the Sancy
gems. The weight of the diamond has been given as high as one hundred
and twenty-six karats; but Delisle assured Dutens that he saw M.
Jacquemin, the Crown jeweller, weigh the gem, and that it did not
exceed fifty-four karats. Nevertheless, the famous inventory of the
French gems in 1792 gives 33¹²⁄₁₆ karats as the true weight of the
famous Sancy diamond. How shall we explain this wide discrepancy?
Forty-two years after the death of the Baron, the diamond passed
into the hands of Henrietta Maria, the queen-dowager of England, and
subsequently into the possession of James II. The unfortunate king,
while in exile, sold the gem to Louis IV. for the sum of $125,000; and
here its history ends.
During the latter part of the seventeenth century, Robert de Berquen,
a descendant of the famous lapidary, wrote his “Merveilles des Indes,”
and therein he describes the diamond brought from India by Baron Sancy,
as then in possession of the Queen of England, and being almond-like
in form, faceted on both sides, and of fifty-four karats in weight.
This account agrees with those of the French jewellers, and serves to
connect the history of the gem up to this period.
Not many years after the bold robbery of 1792, a large diamond was
acquired, by some mysterious means, by the widow of Charles IV. of
Spain, who gave it to the notorious Prince of Peace Godoy. In 1838,
Princess Paul Demidoff is said to have purchased it for half a million
of roubles; and it is also certain that the Demidoff family sold it in
1865, to the Parsee millionnaire, Sir Jansetjee Jejeebhoy of Bombay,
for $100,000.
Now the question arises, which was the true Sancy? And to settle the
inquiry satisfactorily, will be a difficult task. From all these
accounts, the reader may infer that there are three distinct diamonds
included under the history of Sancy. The first is the diamond of the
Duke of Burgundy, weighing, from its description, about thirty-three
karats, and of a well-marked form. This gem is clearly traced to Philip
II. of Spain. The second, which was of unknown weight, was last noticed
in the hands of the Jews at Metz. The third was of the form of a
brilliolette, and of fifty-four karats weight, and has lately returned
to the land of its birth, with the honors of the name of Sancy. Which
of these gems deserves the name of the Sancy diamond?
Madame de Pompadour, in the bright days of her prosperity, possessed
some rare gems, but we can learn but little concerning them. Her will
indicates that the beautiful ring containing white and rose-colored
diamonds was given to the Duke de Goutaud, and also that the rare
diamond of an aqua marine tint went to the Duke de Choiseul.
After having referred to the political importance of the Regent
diamond, it may be proper for us to briefly mention the famous affair
of the diamond necklace, which unjustly cast a stain upon the prestige
of royalty in France, and ultimately exerted a certain influence, among
other causes, that led to the downfall of the monarchy, and the fearful
scenes that followed. The details of this daring scheme read more like
romance than reality; yet they are well substantiated in history.
It appears that Böhmer, a jeweller of Paris, had collected, in 1784, a
large number of beautiful diamonds, with which he formed a magnificent
necklace valued at 1,600,000 francs. The jewel had been offered to the
Queen Marie Antoinette; but she had declined the purchase as beyond her
means at the time. Her regrets at her inability to obtain the splendid
decoration reached the ears of Prince Cardinal de Rohan, who was then
living at Paris, in disgrace, for having divulged some court secrets
while he was ambassador at Vienna. The Prince was not only handsome
and conceited, but he was notorious for his gallantry and his follies.
Unfortunately for himself and the court, he sought at this time to
regain the favor of the Queen, and made it the grand object of his life.
He had among his intimate acquaintances a bold, dashing woman by the
name of Madame de la Motte, who pretended to be a countess of the
family of Valois. She had married a man by the name of La Motte, who
was intimate with the notorious quacks Villette and Cagliostro, who
were then in the zenith of their fame. The Countess was well known
in Paris as a woman of immorality and deeply versed in the arts of
intrigue.
She became acquainted with the facts of the Queen’s admiration for the
necklace and the infatuation of Rohan for the Queen; and upon these
she arranged her scheme for duping the Prince and obtaining possession
of the property. She soon won the confidence of Rohan, and represented
to him the Queen’s intense longing for the necklace, and the favor he
would gain in loaning the means which would enable her to obtain the
coveted jewel and pay for it at her leisure. She promised, furthermore,
through the aid of Cagliostro, to obtain an interview with the Queen on
this subject. The promised interview took place one night in August,
1784, in the garden of Versailles; but the Queen was represented by a
low character by the name of D’Oliva, who was almost a counterpart of
Marie Antoinette.
Rohan was completely deceived, and agreed to purchase the necklace;
which he did not long after, giving his notes for half-yearly payments,
and receiving as security a bond from the pretended Queen, which,
however, was forged by La Motte’s husband. The Prince Cardinal then
intrusted the jewel to the Countess for conveyance to the Queen;
but she passed it over to her husband, who lost no time in hurrying
to London, where he immediately converted its gems into money. The
Countess, however, did not hasten to join her husband, but remained at
Paris, rejoicing in her audacity and good fortune, and with the hope of
plucking more feathers from her princely victim. Nearly a year passed
away before the secret was discovered.
Böhmer, anxious for his pay, approached the King; and the fraud was
at once discovered. The Cardinal Prince was arrested just as he was
about to perform mass before the court, and sent to the Bastile.
After a short imprisonment, he was tried by a court of justice, but
acquitted of criminal offence. However, he was sent in disgrace to
reside at an abbey of his in Auvergne. Madame la Motte paid dearly for
her crime and her dalliance in Paris after the prize had been secured,
for she was sentenced to be branded on the shoulders, scourged in
public, and condemned to perpetual imprisonment. She bore her trials
with fortitude, and had the good fortune to escape from her prison
in less than a year after her sentence. She joined her husband in
London, and there published a bitter pamphlet against the French Court,
and especially the Queen. It is generally supposed that the Countess
died in London in 1791, either from a fever or the result of an
accident caused by a drunken debauch. But a startling story comes from
Russia, giving another account of the last moments of this celebrated
adventuress.
It appears that the Emperor Alexander, disgusted with the conduct
of three lady reformers who attempted to establish a revolution in
religious opinion at St. Petersburg, banished them to the Crimea. They
were Princess Galitzin, Madame de Krudener, and a mysterious personage
who went by the name of Countess Gauchin. After death, which occurred
during her banishment to the Crimea, the strange Countess proved to
be the notorious De la Motte, who many years before had been publicly
branded on the Place de la Grève in Paris.
It would appear from statements in mediæval history that necklaces were
not much known in France, or at least were not in fashion, until the
times of Charles VIII. For one of the earliest known in that country
was that given by the above-named monarch to the beautiful Agnes
Sorel. The uncut gems, which were of great beauty and value, weighed
heavily upon the delicate neck and bosom of the fair creature; and she
complained of it to her lover as being an instrument of torture as well
as a decoration. The King, fascinated with the charming effect of the
gems, together with the natural entrancing beauty of the maiden, begged
her to wear it, saying, with a supplicating smile, “One might surely
bear some little inconvenience to please those we love.”
The late Madame Thiers possessed a rare jewel, which came to her by
inheritance, and which she wisely bequeathed to the Louvre collection.
This jewel is a necklace of precious stones of the sixteenth century
workmanship, and is regarded as without a rival in Europe except among
the regalia preserved at St. Petersburg.
There are a great many diamonds owned in France among the nobility, the
landed proprietors, and the successful merchants. Paris has been for a
long time the chief market in the world for the sale of the gem; and
most of the stones cut at Amsterdam find their way, primarily, to the
Parisian bazaars. Many of these are taken as securities by the rich;
but the most of them are absorbed by the requirements of fashion and
the love of display.
Adventurers, during the tide of success, prefer to invest their gains
in gems, and especially diamonds, rather than in lands or bonds. There
is a twofold reason for this preference. Great wealth can be concealed
in a handful of gems which can be easily transported; and the glitter
of the stones adds vastly to the fascinations of the investment.
Disastrous wars and commercial panics generally betray hoards of this
description; and new sources of the precious stones are thus opened to
commerce. It is reported that the Bonaparte family, since the disaster
at Sedan, have thrown upon the market diamonds to the value of several
millions of dollars.