Leisure hours among the gems

by Augustus C. Hamlin

Among the treasures supposed to be gathered in these catacombs, of an Empire’s wealth at Constantinople, there is one especially dear to the dilettante,—the wondrous ring of Ahmed. Vanquished in the long, bloody, and desperate battle fought upon the slopes of Olympus when entire Turkey was the prize, Ahmed offered to his victorious brother Selim I. a single gem to purchase the honors of a tomb. This precious stone was set in a ring richly chased in gold, and was the gift of Bajazet II. to the most beloved of his children. It was as dear as the ring Solomon wore, and which was gifted with wonderful powers extending even to the invisible world. But it was as fatal as that which Polycrates cast into the sea as an offering to the gods for his long-continued prosperity. History does not mention the nature of this remarkable treasure, nor relate whether it was diamond, sapphire, or emerald. However, we may glean some idea as to its rarity and beauty from the statement that the Genoese jewellers who were then the gem-venders of the world placed its value at a year’s revenue of all Asia Minor.

The antiquary may also find among these dusty and forgotten collections some of the lost gems and beautiful works of art of ancient Rome, or, perhaps, the rich ornaments brought home by the Macedonian soldiers from their Eastern triumphs, or the holy relics which the Arabs removed from the Gothic treasury at Toledo, and concealed in their fortresses and fastnesses of Syria. In mediæval times the precious stones and all that was marvellous in decorative art that fell into the hands of the Genoese and Venetian merchants went to Constantinople to adorn the magnificence of the Turkish nobles. Whatever the Mamelukes had gathered together in their treasury in Egypt, rescued from the dust of the catacombs, or wrested from the isolated strongholds of Western Africa, was seized by one fell swoop of the Turkish horsemen and transferred to the Bosphorus.

The extravagance of the Turkish nobility during some of the brilliant reigns of the Empire was extreme, and seems to belong to the golden age of fable rather than to the truthful periods of history. We can form some idea of the wealth of these favorites of the Sultans from the glowing descriptions left by the Ottoman historians.

Sinan-Pasha, the Turkish Marius, seven times exiled and seven times consul, yet dying at last at eighty while conducting the army to Hungary, left a heritage worthy of a king. Among his immense possessions the historian enumerates thirty-two cuirasses incrusted with rubies, fifteen strings of huge pearls, sixty bushels of fine pearls, seven tablecloths bespangled with diamonds, all accumulated during campaigns in Europe, Asia, and Africa. Another potentate, the Grand Vizier Sokolli, exhibited a love of magnificence worthy of the most reckless Roman profligates. His garden, near Tokat, was the wonder of Asia Minor, and was called the garden of Paradise, “Djennet-bagni.” Its parterres, instead of being covered with natural flowers, sparkled with rubies and precious stones imitating the form of flowers and surpassing them in splendor. This unique display of art was finally destroyed by the victorious barbarian hordes from Asia, and the beautiful imitations of flowering vegetation were borne off to the distant steppes to be transferred into ornaments for arms and horse-gear.

In forming a conjecture of the value of the treasures of the Turkish Seraglio, the antiquary naturally and justly recalls to memory the magnificence of early history and the numerous spoliations of ancient nations that eventually fell into the grasp of the Greek and Roman Emperors. Let us follow briefly the historian among some of the fragments of history which relate to this subject, and seem to indicate that the treasures of the earth gathered during the last two thousand years in reality drifted in course of time and by the fortunes of war to the Greek Capitol. It is the sad epitome of man’s greatness and his insignificance. For the pillage which graced the triumphs of the Greek and Roman arms not only represented the peaceful industry of nations, but they were also often the memorials of the destruction of the earth’s fairest hopes.

Rome, in the height of her glory, displayed a magnificence worthy of the valor of her arms and the magnitude of her conquests. Her temples were profusely decorated with gems, and her nobles vied with each other in the possession of the rare and the beautiful. At times the Coliseum exhibited the wealth of the nation and the liberality of its rulers. The poet who describes the games of Carinus affirms that the porticos of the immense edifice were gilded, and the extensive circles which divided the ranks of spectators from each other were studded with a precious mosaic of beautiful stones,—

“Balteus in gemmis in lita portico aureo
Certatim radiant,” etc.

In the triumphs of Rome the spoils of the last conquest were not only displayed, but the accumulated riches of the Empire were ostentatiously exhibited to view at the same time.

To give the reader an idea of the magnificence of these celebrations, we will describe the triumphal entry into the eternal city by Aurelian when returning from the conquest of Palmyra and the nations situated along the great commercial highways to Asia. This was one of the greatest of the Roman triumphs, and spread a dazzling glory over the name of the conqueror. The pomp was opened by the stately procession of twenty enormous elephants, followed by four royal tigers and more than two hundred of the most curious animals from all parts of the world. Then came a fierce and haughty band of sixteen hundred gladiators, selected for their beauty, strength, and skill. The wealth of Asia followed this vanguard of brute strength. Displayed in charming arrangement or carelessly heaped in immense piles, the spectators witnessed the arms, ensigns, and a vast collection of the objects of value and luxury of many conquered nations. Among the articles of gold were exhibited the numerous crowns of Aurelian, together with the magnificent plate and wardrobe of the Syrian queen. Amidst this glittering array appeared the embassies of foreign and distant nations; and the ambassadors of Ethiopia, Arabia, Persia, India, and China, with their brilliant or picturesque costumes, added greatly to the interest and splendor of the scene. Following these came long trains of captives from various nations,—Goths, Vandals, Sarmatians, Gauls, Syrians, etc.,—with the ill-fated emperor, Tetricus, and his son, dressed in Gallic costume. But the most attractive figure of all to the Roman populace was the beauteous form of the celebrated queen of the Syrian deserts. Zenobia was on foot and alone. As if in mockery of human ambition, she preceded the magnificent chariot in which she once hoped to have entered Rome. Her elegant figure was shackled with solid chains of gold, while she tottered under the weight of the inestimable jewels which adorned her natural graces. In the rear appeared the still more sumptuous chariots of Odenatus and of the Persian monarch. The triumphal car which carried Aurelian was resplendent with gems, and was drawn by four stags.

One of the most magnificent exhibitions of extravagance and luxury of ancient times was displayed on the march of Tiridates and his Parthian nobles, when they went to Rome to receive the nominal crown from the hand of Nero. Four thousand selected Parthian cavalry, clothed in rich apparel, escorted the King. The entire expense of the journey, which lasted several months and amounted to more than thirty thousand dollars a day, was paid by the Romans. The triumphal procession traversed Asia Minor, crossed the Hellespont, passed through upper Greece, around the Adriatic, and then down the peninsula to Rome.