THE MANIA FOR TULIPS IN HOLLAND.
The inordinate passion, which at one time prevailed for Tulips, amounted to actual madness, and well deserved the name of Tulipomania, by which it is distinguished. The Tulip was introduced into Europe from Constantinople in the year 1559, according to Gesner. After it became known to the Dutch merchants and nobility at Vienna, it became a most important branch of trade in Holland, and they sent frequently to Constantinople for roots and seeds of the flower. In the year 1634, and for three years after, little else was thought of in Holland but this traffic; all embarked in it, from the nobleman to the common laborer, and so successful were many that they rose rapidly from abject poverty to affluence; and those who had been barely able to procure the most scanty means of subsistence were enabled to set up their carriages, and enjoy every convenience and luxury of life; indeed, when we read of the enormous sums paid for a single root, we can feel no surprise at the immense and rapid fortunes which were made. It is on record, that one wealthy merchant gave his daughter no other portion to secure an eligible match than a single root. The plant to this day bears the name of the "marriage portion." We find that 2 hogsheads of wine, 4 tuns of beer, 2 lasts of wheat, 4 lasts of rye, 2 tons of butter, 1000 pounds of cheese, 4 fat oxen, 8 fat swine, and 12 fat sheep, a complete bed, a suit of clothes, a silver beckess, valued at 2500 florins, were given in exchange for a single root of the tulip called the Viceroy. This mode of barter, being attended with inconvenience, could not be general, and gave place to sale by weight, by which immense sums were made. Single roots have sold for 4400 florins; 2000 florins was a common price for a root of the Semper Augustus; and it happened that once, when only two roots of this species could be procured, the one at Amsterdam, and the other at Haarlem, 4600 florins, a new carriage, and a pair of horses, with complete harness, were given for one; and for the other an exchange made of 12 acres of land: indeed, land was frequently parted with when cash could not be advanced for the purchase of a desired root; and houses, cattle, furniture, and even clothes, were all sacrificed to the Tulipomania. In the course of four months, a person has been known to realize 60,000 florins. These curious bargains took place in taverns, where notaries and clerks were regularly paid for attending; and after the contracts were completed, the traders of all ranks sat down together to a splendid entertainment. At these sales, the usual price of a root of the Viceroy was £250; a root of the Admiral Liefkuns, £440; a root of the Admiral Von Eyk, £160; a root of the Grebbu, £148; a root of the Schilder, £160; a root of the Semper Augustus, £550. A collection of Tulips of Wouter Brockholsminster was disposed of by his executors for £9000; but they sold a root of the Semper Augustus separately, for which they got £300, and a very fine Spanish cabinet, valued at £1000. The Semper Augustus was, indeed, in great request. A gentleman received £3000 for three roots which he sold; he had also the offer of £1500 a year for his plant for seven years, with an engagement that it should be given up as found, the increase alone having been retained during the period. One gentleman made £6000 in the space of six months. It was ascertained that the trade in Tulips in one city alone, in Holland, amounted to £1,000,000 sterling. To such an extent was this extraordinary traffic carried on, that a system of stock-jobbing was introduced; and Tulips, which were bought and sold for much more than their weight in gold, were nominally purchased without changing hands at all. Beekmann, in describing this curious traffic, for which all other merchandise and pursuit was neglected, mentions that engagements were entered into, which were to be fulfilled in six months, and not to be affected by any change in the value of the root during that time. Thus, a bargain might be made with a merchant for a root at the price of 1000 florins. At the time specified for its delivery, its value may have risen to 1500 florins, the purchaser being a gainer of 500 florins. Should it, on the contrary, have fallen to 800 florins, the purchaser was then a loser to the amount of 200 florins. If there had been no fluctuation in the market, the bargain terminated without an exchange of the money for the root, so that it became a species of gambling, at which immense sums were lost and won. The decline of the trade was as unexpected as its rise had been surprising. When settling day came, there were many defaulters; some from inability to meet their engagements, and many from dishonesty. Persons began to speculate more cautiously, and the more respectable to feel that the system of gambling, in which they were engaged, was by no means creditable. The Tulip-holders then wished to dispose of their merchandise really, and not nominally, but found, to their disappointment, that the demand had decreased. Prices fell—contracts were violated—appeals were made to the magistrates in vain; and, after violent contentions, in which the venders claimed, and the purchasers resisted payment, the state interposed, and issued an order invalidating the contracts, which put an end at once to the stock-jobbing; and the roots, which had been valued at £500 each, were now to be had for £5: and thus ended the most strange commerce in which Europe had been ever engaged.
Some curious anecdotes connected with the mania may be found. Among them is one of a burgomaster, who had made interest for a friend, and succeeded in obtaining a very lucrative situation for him. The friend, anxious to testify his gratitude, entreated of the burgomaster to allow him to show it by some substantial proof. His generous benefactor would accept no favor in return; all he asked was the gratification of seeing his flower-garden, which was readily granted. The friends did not meet again for two years. At the end of that time, the gentleman went to visit the burgomaster. On going into his garden, the first thing that attracted his observation was a rare Tulip of great value, which he instantly knew must have been purloined from his garden, when his treacherous friend had been admitted into it, two years before. He gave vent to the most frantic passion—immediately resigned his place of £1000 per annum—returned to his house merely to tear up his flower-garden—and, having completed the work of destruction, left it, never to return.
We have read of a sailor, who had brought a heavy load to the warehouse of a merchant, who only gave him a herring as payment and refreshment. This was very inadequate to satisfy the man's hunger, but perceiving, as he thought, some onions lying before him, he snatched up one, and bit it. It happened to be a Tulip-root, worth a king's ransom; so we may conceive the consternation of the merchant, which is said to have nearly deprived him of reason.
It has been said that John Barclay, the author of the romance of "Angenis," was a victim to the Tulipomania. Nothing could induce him to quit the house to which his flower-garden was attached, though the situation was so unwholesome that he ran the risk of having his health destroyed. He kept two fierce mastiffs to guard the flowers, which he determined never to abandon.
The passion for Tulips was at its height in England toward the close of the seventeenth and the commencement of the eighteenth century. The tulip is a native of the Levant, and of many of the eastern countries. Though common in Persia, it is highly esteemed, and considered an emblem of love. Chardin tells us, that when a young Persian wishes to make his sentiments known to his mistress, he presents her with one of these flowers, which, of course, must be the flame-colored one, with black anthers, so often seen in our gardens; as, Chardin adds, "He thus gives her to understand, that he is all on fire with her beauty, and his heart burned to a coal." The flower is still highly esteemed by florists, and has its place among the few named florists' flowers. Many suppose it to be "the Lily of the Field," mentioned in the Sermon on the Mount, from its growing in wild profusion in Syria, and from the extreme delicacy of the texture of its petals, and from the wonderful variety and dazzling beauty of its colors. It may be so; and the flower acquires from this an interest which nothing else could give.