The Sultan of Turkey is said to possess many wonderful diamonds and other gems among the regalia and ornaments treasured up in the strongholds of the Seraglio; but very little is known, definitely and positively, concerning them.
In 1840 the Sultan granted a firman to the Duke of Devonshire and a party of friends, permitting them to examine the court-jewels. One of this party, my illustrious kinsman Dr. Cyrus Hamlin, has recently described to me the impression they made upon his memory, more than thirty years ago. The number of articles was too great, and their effect too dazzling, for the memory to be able to particularize them after so long an interval of time. He remembers that in two strongly built rooms, and displayed on mats, or cushions of velvet, were a vast number of decorations and insignia, crescents, tiaras, clasps, and necklaces, etc. Among the latter was one of wondrous beauty and perfection, which the Sultan wished to present to the Princess of Wales on her visit to Stamboul. The beautiful Princess wore it at the reception she gave the Sultan and his cabinet, but for various reasons was obliged to return the magnificent gift.
Among the arms of former Sultans were the swords of Al-u-deen, and Solyman the Magnificent. Besides their historical renown, they were interesting on account of their superb workmanship, and their decorations with gems of wonderful beauty.
In 1880 an American traveller was admitted to a view of some of the rooms in the Treasury of the Seraglio, and from memory of what he saw there wrote the following description:—
“In the centre of the first room is a throne. It is a platform about two and one half feet square, with a cushion of cloth-of-gold embroidered with pearls, rubies, and diamonds. Around three sides of the cushion is a low rail supported by miniature columns, and standing about eight inches high. The whole body of the throne is overlaid with plates of gold, and the rail is studded with clusters of rubies symmetrically arranged. The first thought that strikes one on seeing this throne is the surpassing value of its jewels, and the second is the superlative discomfort of the concern viewed as a resting-place. The rail, which answers for arms and back, is perpendicular and rectangular, and could rest neither the arms nor the back of the enthroned Sultan. Uneasy the man that sits the throne, must be the Turkish equivalent of the proverb concerning the wearer of the crown. In one corner of the room is another throne, said to be the throne of Nadir Shah, of Persia. It is of some dark wood, delicately inlaid with ivory and pearl, and has a canopy of the same materials, from the centre of which hangs a great gold ball decorated with precious stones.
“In one of the cabinets is the cradle of the imperial babies. It stands low on its rockers, like the cradles now in use in Turkey. The two ends rise a foot above the mattress, and are connected at the top by a bar which runs lengthwise of the cradle. The whole is of solid gold, and the outside of the cradle is crusted with pearls, diamonds, rubies, and turquoises.
“In one of the galleries are the effigies of all the Sultans of Turkey down to Mahmoud the Reformer. The figures are dressed in what professes to be the state robes actually worn by the Sultans whom they represent. The costumes are all different, and differ very much in cut, indicating the changes of fashion during the last five hundred years. But all these dresses agree in the feature of richness. Cloth-of-gold and silk brocade are the materials, and many of the figures are weighed down with jewels. The swords or daggers which all of the figures wear are especially magnificent in their display of precious stones. The dagger of Sultan Mahomet II., the conqueror of Constantinople, has in its handle an emerald full two inches long and an inch thick. I use the adjective ‘thick’ advisedly, for solidity of splendor is the impression left on the mind by that emerald. All of these gentlemen wore large turbans, and bedecked their turbans with diamonds. The only exceptions are seen in the case of the boy Sultan, Osman II., who was killed by his janissaries before he had attained man’s estate, and in the case of Sultan Mahmoud, the Reformer, who alone of all his kinsmen appears in European broadcloth. His head-dress is the fez cap, with a plume of bird-of-paradise feathers fastened in place by a great spray of diamonds.
“But there is no such thing as describing in detail the splendors of these rooms. There are antique arms and armor heavy with gold and jewels; there are innumerable horse-trappings and saddles, covered with plates of gold and studded with emeralds, rubies, topazes, diamonds, and pearls; there are saddle-cloths embroidered with precious stones. Several sofa-covers hang in the cabinets as background to the smaller articles. They are worth $150,000 apiece, and are heavy cloth-of-gold embroidered with seed pearls. In one of the cabinets are three uncut emeralds, the largest being the size of a man’s fist, and the smallest larger than a hen’s egg. The birds of the palace realized the experience of dwelling in cages of gold, for here they hang,—these ancient cages of gold wire. Some of the cages have a clock in the bottom, face downward, so that the royal household might see the time of day as they lolled on the divans beneath. The Imperial Princes appear to have gone to school in childhood, for here are the satchels in which they carried their books,—bags of velvet embroidered with gold and pearls and diamonds. In another place you see many mottoes from the Koran, embroidered in diamonds on red velvet. There are amber mouthpieces for pipes, studded with diamonds and rubies. There are coffee-sets and tea-sets of all degrees of magnificence; and vases of crystal and agate and onyx,—some of these profusely bejewelled. There are inkstands and snuff-boxes innumerable, all glittering with priceless gems. There are royal knives and forks and spoons of solid gold, with jewels on their handles. There is an immense array of clocks. One would suppose that every Sultan had his private clock, which ceased to tick when his heart stopped beating.
“Among the articles in this imperial treasure-house are many which must be regarded simply as toys. Of such is a tea-set of tortoise-shell as thin as paper. Another toy is a lady’s parasol of white silk exquisitely embroidered with gold, the staff of which is a single branch of coral so long and true and well adapted to its purpose that one might search years and fail to find its like. There are also very many fans of varying degrees of splendor. Another one of the toys is a figure of a sultan seated on his throne under a golden canopy ribbed with alternate rubies and emeralds. The whole structure is, perhaps, six inches high. The body of the figure is a single huge pearl, the lower extremities are carved from a blue turquoise, and the turban is a solid mass of diamonds. There is literally no end to the marvels of this place. After every conceivable use has been made of jewels, the surplus unmounted stones are gathered by handfuls into crystal bowls at one end of the cabinets in the second room. The spoils of all the empires which preceded the Ottoman Empire are heaped up in these two dingy stone rooms in the old Seraglio at Constantinople.
“It requires some time fully to realize the enormous wealth of this treasure-house. But slowly one becomes convinced that these treasures can only be the accumulation of centuries, and represent the heritage of the Ottomans from all their predecessors. Once assured of this, the traveller will find a peculiar fitness in the aspect and attitude of the guards of the place. They stand, dressed in spotless black broadcloth, four or five feet apart, in line along the cabinets, perfectly motionless. And they are solemn of countenance, as if standing by the catafalque of some deceased monarch lying in state for the homage of his subjects.
“I first visited this place shortly after the late war with Russia. The Turkish Government was in sore straits for the means of daily existence. The Sultan had just sent his gold and silver plate to the mint to be coined in order to buy up the depreciated paper currency. The people of whole districts were at the verge of starvation because the $80,000,000 of paper money in circulation had lost its purchasing power. I was naturally incredulous as to the reality of what I had seen. If these jewels were real, their value must be sufficient to pay off the dishonored bonds of Turkey. It did not seem reasonable that the Turkish Government could have passed through such straits as those to which it had been reduced by the war without having recourse to their treasure-house. Multitudes of articles in those rooms have an immense antique and artistic value entirely aside from their intrinsic value.
“I spoke in this strain to one of the officers of the Imperial Ottoman Bank, and he replied that the jewels were unquestionably genuine. He said that during the war the Turks borrowed $30,000,000 from the bank. The loan was to be secured by pledge of jewels from this treasure-house, and the bank officials were told to help themselves from its riches. They selected enough of the jewels to guarantee them amply against loss. These jewels were packed in three small boxes and removed to the vaults of the bank. But their removal left no gap in the great accumulation. Afterward I asked a Turk why the Government did not sell this treasure and be at ease. ‘Sell it?’ said the Turk; ‘why, it is the treasure of all the Sultans! It cannot be sold.’
“So there is this treasure-house to-day—a grand relic of ancient splendor—in the hands of the broken, ruined remnant of the house of Osman. The possession of this enormous wealth must be a terrible temptation at times to the worn man who wears the Sacred Sword of Turkey. But he clings to it through all his adversity, for it is the only relic left to the Empire of the glory of its past.”
Two of the oldest authenticated diamonds in Europe belong to the Sultan. One of them, a beautiful stone of twenty-four karats, and which adorns the aigrette of the Imperial plume on days of parade, was found in Constantinople in the time of Mahomet IV. It was picked up by a poor man upon a heap of dirt not far from the gate of Egrikapon. The finder had no idea of the value of his treasure, and sold it for a trifle. Passing through the hands of several purchasers, the gem was finally brought to the notice of the guild of goldsmiths, when its true character was made known. It was then seized by the Grand Vizier and annexed to the Imperial treasures by an edict. The other diamond, which is of greater beauty and weight, was found by a child playing in the Haiwanserai, or the Hebdomon, during the reign of Mahomet II., or about the middle of the fifteenth century. It was believed by the antiquaries that these gems belonged to the treasures of ancient Byzantium, and that the last may have adorned the crown of the Byzantine emperors. This jewel was lost by the fault of the masters of the wardrobe on the place of the Hebdomon during a triumphal march in the twenty-second year of the reign of Justinian, or 548 A.D. We can learn nothing more concerning the condition of these diamonds when found, but infer that they were polished, otherwise they probably would not have attracted the notice of the finders.
Lamartine and other historians of the Ottoman Empire allude to its treasury as in reality a wonderful museum of art, whose wealth is unknown and perhaps incalculable. They state that in four vast apartments beneath the Seraglio, vaulted subterraneously to shelter them from the ravages of fire, are collected the sacred relics, the jewels, the gems, and a great variety of objects of value that have accumulated since the origin of the monarchy. The antiquary may well say in viewing this collection of treasure, “The spoils of the universe are here represented.” For whatever of value and historic worth was saved from the wreck of Rome or preserved from the accumulations of the Greek conquests was gathered at Byzantium. In this fatal Acropolis at the extreme point of the continent of Europe, the Greek Empire had indeed collected all its monuments, all its masterpieces, all its riches, as if to tempt fate and render the prize all the more glittering to the eyes of the Ottomans.
Many, if not the most, of these priceless relics and treasures fell into the clutches of the Turks when Constantinople was won. Nothing escaped at that time. There is no doubt but that many remarkable gems were captured at this period, but concerning their nature and their value history has left us but little more than conjecture.
However, the historians speak definitely of the Greek emperors during their prosperity as displaying a magnificence worthy of the luxurious periods of Rome. The costumes of these rulers are described as marvels of art, and their jewels as of inestimable price. The accounts remind the reader of the descriptions left by Claudian of the treasures of Theodosius:—
“Sidonian mantles rich with purple fold,
Belts bossed with pearls, robes stiff with gems and gold,
And breastplates shining green with emeralds bright,
And helmets rich with precious sapphires dight.”
That diamonds were then used as gems and held in high estimation may be inferred from the single remark of the indignant historian, “One man buys entire Syria with the diamonds of his wife.” Perhaps the word diamond was thus used figuratively, and the expression referred to gems and jewels in general.
Besides these accumulations of the Greeks, much of the spoil collected by Timour in his merciless sack of India and Persia came afterwards into the possession of the Emirs of Asiatic Turkey, and eventually drifted to Constantinople. What these treasures were may be imagined from the glowing descriptions given by the historians of the last scenes of the life and reign of the great Tatar conqueror. The magnificent fêtes given by Timour on his return to Samarcand after the conquest of Arabia and Eastern Turkey, surpassed in historic splendor even the descriptions of Oriental fable. In the gigantic palace erected by him during the days of leisure between his conquests, and which was one of the marvels of the architectural world, he celebrated in a single day the marriage of six of his grandsons. The spoils of the universe were displayed in the decorations of the marriage feasts. The wealth of the Indies had been transferred to the home of the Tatar. Pearls, sapphires, and diamonds were showered in profusion upon the married pairs. Nine times did they change their apparel, and, arrayed in different solid cinctures of a tissue of pearls and diamonds, present themselves to the view of Timour,—the last festivities of the great Tatar chieftain.
This wonderful display of mediæval times recalls to the mind of the antiquary the magnificent marriage feasts of Alexander and his eighty lieutenants with their beautiful Persian brides. This historic festivity took place in Persia 324 B. C., when the Greek army returned from India, and continued for five days. Like that of Timour, it displayed in its magnificence the gems and art treasures of conquered Asia. The diamond, however, does not appear. Art evidently had not then acquired the process by which the natural and rough crystal is developed into a gem of sparkling and lustrous beauty. And the selected brides, to enhance their natural charms, wore pearls, emeralds, rubies, and turquoises wreathed among their tresses of hair, or in their necklaces, amulets, anklets, and bracelets.
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.
It was a great day for Rome when the Parthians approached its walls. The city was illuminated, and decorated with garlands and the movable wealth of the Empire. The Roman nobles were clad in white; and the splendid Pretorian guards, glittering with their arms and decorations, were drawn up in two lines stretching from the end of the Forum to the Rostra. Through these lines of steel, flanked by a vast assemblage of citizens, Tiridates and his proud nobles marched to the Rostra, and received from the hands of Nero the promised diadem. The Empire impoverished herself in this barbaric display and attempt to awe and charm her haughtiest foe. The accumulated spoils of three hundred triumphs at Rome formed a glittering prize to the minds of Alaric and his devoted Goths.
But six years before the capture of the city, Rome displayed her magnificence and her wealth in the ovation given to St. Melania on her return. The extent of the decoration of the temples and their shrines may be inferred from the quotations of the historians. Serena, the wife of the Roman general, Stilicho, on great occasions wore a magnificent necklace which she borrowed from the statue of Vesta. But the protection of the goddess could not protect the unfortunate woman from being strangled by the Romans during the siege by the Goths.
The fame of these treasures had spread all over the known world. And to the Goths the beauty of gems and the delights of luxuries were not entirely unknown. For, in previous times, they had invaded the coasts of the Euxine Sea and sacked many of the rich cities, like Trebizond. In the pillage of the city by the Goths, Alaric is said to have protected the consecrated plate and ornaments of the temples; but he undoubtedly confiscated the most valuable and notable of the treasures. The booty of the army was immense; and when the victorious soldiers took their departure the roads were incumbered with the rich and weighty spoils. The haughty victors, clad in the vestments of unexpected luxury, might have been seen resting by the wayside, waited on by their captives,—the sons and daughters of Roman senators,—drinking the wine of Italy in golden goblets, decorated with gems.
The treasures obtained by the Goths in the conquest and sack of Italy were borne away with them to Gaul. Besides these, the Gothic chieftains are said to have possessed many valuable gifts from other nations. The record of these wonderful works of art has been lost; but a few scraps of history, here and there, give glimpses of marvellous treasures. When the Franks pillaged the palace at Narbonne in France, in the sixth century, they found many curious and costly ornaments of gold.
But most of the treasures and choice works were undoubtedly carried along with the army into Spain, and deposited in the Gothic treasury at Toledo. These were eventually captured by the Saracens and sent to Damascus. Thus, by the singular fortunes of war, these remarkable and beautiful relics returned to the Holy Land whence some of them had been taken centuries before. Among these articles was the famous “Missorium,” or great dish for the service of the table, weighing five hundred pounds. It was formed of solid gold of exquisite workmanship, richly inlaid with gems, and was the pride of the Goths.
The wonderful emerald table, which has been so enthusiastically described by the Arabian writers, was also seized at the same time. The transparent top of this table was encircled with three rows of fine pearls, supported on three hundred and sixty-five feet, formed of gold and gems. This superb piece of workmanship was valued at five hundred thousand pieces of gold.
The marriage feast of Adolphus, the successor of Alaric, with Placidia, the daughter of the great Theodosius, was a memorable occasion in ancient history. It was celebrated at Narbonne, and displayed the prodigality and magnificence of the Goths. The ceremony was performed according to the lavish fashion of the Romans and the rude customs of the victors. Adolphus offered to his bride, in accordance with the manner of his nation, the spoils of her country. Fifty beautiful youths, attired in silken robes, presented the happy maiden with one hundred basins, one half of which were filled with gold, and the rest were heaped with gems of an inestimable price. Such was the inconstancy of fortune in those days, and such the cruelty of the times, that only a year after this grand event the beautiful woman, the daughter of a Roman emperor, and the wife of the Gothic chieftain, might have been seen marching on foot with a crowd of vulgar captives, in front of the horse of the assassin of her beloved husband. However, a few short days after the usurpation, the Gothic army, struck with pity and indignation at the sufferings of Placidia, attacked and slew her barbarous master.
Genseric, with his Moors and Vandals, fiercer in their pillage than the Goths of Alaric, ravaged Rome for fourteen days and nights. Everything of value, sacred or profane, was seized and borne away to the galleys of the invaders. Even the Empress Eudoxia was rudely stripped of her ornaments; and the holy relics, brought from Jerusalem by Titus and spared by Alaric, were taken from the temples and transferred to Carthage. One of the vessels, containing a part of the sacred utensils and other treasures, was shipwrecked on the same shore which a thousand years later swallowed up the wonderful and blood-stained emeralds which Cortez wrested from Mexico and carried with him when wrecked with the Admiral of Castile. The remainder were saved to swell the ponderous pile of booty when Carthage fell before the arms and genius of Belisarius. All these treasures, the collections of the Moor and the Vandal, were transported to the Bosphorus to enrich the city of the conquerors.
To the successful army and its general a triumph was decreed; and it was the first Byzantium had ever seen. The display on this historic occasion was worthy of the army and its hero. The wealth of nations was brought forth to heighten the splendor of the scene. Rich armor, golden thrones, chariots, varied forms of sculpture and furniture, statues, vases, and other objects of art, together with the holy relics of the Jewish Temple, were displayed in the procession.
But the grandest object of all was presented by the noble and majestic form of Belisarius, marching on foot at the head of a band of his bravest officers. Later in life, at the capture of Ravenna, Belisarius obtained the treasures of the Gothic army, which had been collected in that stronghold. These were transferred to the Byzantine palace; but the deserving general was deprived of his hard-won triumph, for Justinian had now become envious of the glory of his subject. The magnificent spectacle of the booty was not exhibited to the populace; but shown only to the flattering and subservient senate.
The results of the Persian conquests largely increased the number, variety, and value of the art and gem collections at Constantinople. The Persian monarch, Chosroes, to arrange and preserve the treasures gathered by rapine or tribute, constructed an elegant palace at Dastagherd beyond the Tigris. In this stronghold, protected in a hundred vaults, were deposited most of the gold, silver, gems, silks, aromatics, and other objects collected from Persia and other countries of Asia. All these fell into the bold hands of the Roman Emperor Heraclius; but a part of them, during an unlucky tempest, were lost in the waves of the Euxine Sea. In the capture of Tauris, Heraclius obtained what were supposed to have been the spoils of Crœsus, which had been transported by Cyrus from the citadel of Sardes.
Once only, before the coming of the Turk, was Constantinople, during its many centuries of varied prosperity and adversity, subjected to serious pillage. Hostile armies had again and again surged up to its almost impregnable walls, only to retire in discomfiture; and it seemed as though the grand old city was protected by some invisible agency from external violence. Internal dissension, however, was the bane of the capital, and was the true cause of the success of the Latins, and finally that of the Turks. The successful attack by the combined forces of the Latins and Venetians was one of the results of the Crusades. It took place in the commencement of the thirteenth century.
The city, however, remained under the Latin power for only fifty-seven years, when it was recaptured by a bold stroke of the Greeks. Injured by the pillage of the Latins, and many of its beautiful edifices destroyed by fire during the siege or subsequent occupation, the Greek capital not only lost its prestige of divine protection, but it has never recovered its former splendor. How much of the spoils were removed by the captors is a matter of conjecture. The historians of the Greeks and Latins—the spoiled and spoiler—undoubtedly exaggerate the injury of the conquest and the quantity of booty obtained.
Two of the Emperors, succeeding by usurpation, fled from the city with much treasure before it was finally captured. Even then one quarter of the accepted plunder was reserved for the elected ruler of Constantinople. And as to the remainder, which is said to have been divided equally between the French and Venetians, and valued at 11,125,000 marks of silver, or $11,000,000, there is no record extant of the articles. We know that the bronze horses of the Hippodrome were transferred to Saint Mark’s Palace, and the crown of thorns to the Sainte Chapelle at Paris. We also learn that many gems-the adamas, emerald, jacinth, ruby, sapphire—were among the spoils; but if the sack was complete, why did Venice years afterwards offer ten thousand ducats for the seamless vesture of the Redeemer, which was then among the sacred reliquaries of Constantinople? If these spoils were divided between the conquerors, how explain the fact recorded in French history, that the sacred relics sent to Paris and placed in the church erected to receive them were purchased? It is a matter of history that the crown of thorns, with the piece of the true cross, the antique gems, and other relics that were deposited in Sainte Chapelle, together with the construction of the building, cost Saint Louis of Baldwin, Emperor of Constantinople, a sum of money equal to 2,800,000 francs. This fact, coupled with the offer of the Venetians for the holy vestment, renders the accounts of the sack of the city still more obscure. The historian Yriarte declares that the only monuments of art deemed by the Venetians as worthy of transporting to their capital were the famous bronze horses. If this statement is correct, the Venetians must have been sadly deficient in taste, or history has wrongfully accused the founders of Constantinople of spoliation.
According to the early accounts, Constantine, in the reconstruction of Byzantium, despoiled the cities of Asia and Greece of their most valuable ornaments, the trophies of memorable wars, the objects of religious veneration, the most finished statues of the gods and heroes, of the sages and poets, of ancient times. The most celebrated works of the age of Pericles and Alexander were remorselessly seized by the Emperor and transferred to his capital to enhance its beauty and its renown. So many statues and architectural masterpieces had been transported to the Bosphorus that the historian Cedrenus ironically said, “Nothing in this great city was wanting except the souls of the illustrious men whom those admirable monuments were intended to represent.”
In the reign of Justinian the city was decorated by the best of living artists. In the construction of the public edifices, the richest materials were sought for and used with lavish hand. The bright hues, the primitive lustre, of many of the stones of which the buildings were composed were so remarkable as to form the theme of a poet. Distant countries were explored for choice materials. The costly marbles of Asia, Gaul, Greece, and Africa were transported to the Bosphorus. Among the rare stones used by the Greek architects, one may recognize in the ruins of the present day, the emerald-green marble of Laconia, the golden-hued of Mauritania, the black of Gaul, and the purple and red, with intersecting veins of sea-green, of Phrygia. The shrine which stood in the Mosque of Saint Sophia a thousand years ago or more must have been of marvellous beauty. The wealth and energy of the ancient world was expended upon it; and we can form some picture of it in our imagination from the fact that the Emperor Justinian, on beholding it after its completion, exclaimed, with outstretched arms, “Solomon, I have surpassed thee.”
The magnificence displayed by the wealthy houses of Byzantium in their internal arrangements must have been of an extraordinary character if we can judge correctly from the invectives of Chrysostom; and the utensils of silver and gold were in massiveness far beyond the prodigality of modern times. Ramusio, the Venetian historian, dazzles the reader with his glittering descriptions of the acquisitions of his countrymen. He mentions with preciseness the vases whose forms were as grotesque and varied as the caprice of man,—the murrhines Pompey won in his triumphs over Mithridates and Tigranes; chalices decked with gems or formed of turquoise, jasper, and amethyst; crowns of gold, studded with pearls; unnumbered emeralds, sapphires, topazes, jacinths, and other gems; also the matchless carbuncles which afterwards adorned the altar at Saint Mark’s, and which were believed by the superstitious to have the power of dissipating the darkness by their refulgent beams of light.
Constantinople, with its remaining works of art, again fell into the power of the Greeks and was retained by them until captured by the Turks. To describe the treasures of the Greek capital before its capture, and correctly estimate the character and value of the objects removed, and those secreted and again brought to light, will be a difficult task for some restless antiquary. We are, however, inclined to believe the Greeks successfully secreted many of their choicest gems. All through the pages of early and mediæval history, the reader will observe that by a strange caprice of fortune many of the richest and rarest works of art and nature passed into the possession of the rulers of Byzantium, Constantinople, or Stamboul. These three names, distinct in their meaning, yet relate to one and the same city, which, during its existence of more than a thousand years, passed successively under the sway of the Roman, the Greek, and the Turk. Stamboul is still the Mecca of the antiquary.