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.
FOOTNOTES
[41] “As we passed, we saw everywhere abundance of flowers, such as the narcissus, hyacinth, and those called by the Turks tulipan, not without great astonishment, on account of the time of the year, as it was then the middle of winter, a season unfriendly to flowers. Greece abounds with narcissuses and hyacinths, which have a remarkably fragrant smell: it is, indeed, so strong as to hurt those who are not accustomed to it. The tulipan, however, have little or no smell, but are admired for their beauty and variety of their colour. The Turks pay great attention to the cultivation of flowers; nor do they hesitate, though by no means extravagant, to expend several aspers for one that is beautiful. I received several presents of these flowers, which cost me not a little.”—Busbequii Ep., Basiliæ, 1740, 8vo, p. 36.
[42] See some account of them in Memoriæ populorum ad Danubium by Stritter.
[43] The Tulipa sylvestris, Linn. grows wild in the southern parts of France. Dodonæus says, in his Florum coronariarum herbarum historia, Antverpiæ 1569, 8vo, p. 204, “In Thracia et Cappadocia tulipa exit; Italiæ et Belgio peregrinus est flos. Minores alicubi in Gallia Narbonensi nasci feruntur.” Linnæus reckons it among the Swedish plants, and Haller names it among those of Switzerland, but says, afterwards, I do not believe it to be indigenous, though it is found here and there in the meads.—Hist. Stirp. ii. p. 115. It appears that this species is earlier than the common Tulipa Gesneriana, though propagated from it. The useless roots thrown perhaps from Gesner’s garden have grown up in a wild state, and become naturalized, as the European cattle have in America. See Miller’s Gardener’s Dictionary, iv. p. 518.
[44] See Martini Lexicon Philologicum, and Megiseri Diction. Turcico-Lat., where the word tulbent, a turban, is derived from the Chaldaic.
[45] Balbini Miscellanea Bohemiæ, p. 100.
[46] Gesneri Epistolæ Medicinales. Tiguri, 1577, 8vo, p. 79 and 80.
[47] Vita Peirescii, auctore Gassendo. 1655, 4to, p. 80.