The Orlov
Legend, fact, supposition and theory each must be accorded
its place in any historical account of this celebrated diamond. Nowadays the
Orlov is one of the most important items in one of the greatest collections of
gems and jewelry, the Treasures of the Diamond Fund, Gokran, comprises of many
historical jewels that were amassed by the rulers of Russia before the 1917
Revolution, as well as some of the exceptional diamonds unearthed during the
past three decades that testify to Russia's current position as a leading world
diamond producer.
The Orlov is mounted in the Imperial Scepter, made during the
reign of Catherine the Great (1762-96). Its weight has been recorded as 189.62
metric carats and it measures 47.6 mm in height, 31.75 mm in width, and 34.92 mm
in length. The clarity is typical of the finest Indian diamonds and its color
possesses a slight bluish-green tint. The shape of the diamond has been
described as resembling half a pigeon's egg and its upper surface is marked by
concentrated rows of triangular facets, with corresponding four-sided facets
appearing on the lower surface. The total number of facets is roughly 180. On
one side of the diamond there exists a slight indentation.
The unusual shape of the Orlov, the pattern of its facets and
the presence of this blemish intriguingly suggest that this diamond can be
identified with a long-lost legendary stone.
Among the first Europeans who were permitted to examine the
gems of the Mogul rulers of India was Jean Baptiste Tavernier, who provided
illustrations of several stones he had seen in his work Six Voyages of Jean
Baptiste Tavernier.
Tavernier's drawing of the diamond which has come to be known
as the Great Mogul is of particular interest and importance, because it is the
only one of this legendary stone known to have survived. According to all the
available accounts of its history the Great Mogul was found about the middle of
the 17th century in the Kollur diamond deposits situated by the Kristna (or
Krishna) River in Hyderabad, and weighed no less than 787½ carats. In due course
it found its way into the Mogul treasury and was shown to Tavernier by Aurangzeb
(1658-1707), the third son of Shah Jahan, who had successfully fought off the
challenge of his three brothers and usurped his father's throne. The cutting of
the Great Mogul was entrusted to an Italian, Hortensio Borgio, who reduced the
weight of the stone to 279 and 9/16 carats. The results of the efforts of the
cutter, however, so displeased Aurangzeb that instead if rewarding him for his
services, he fined him 10,000 rupees and would have extracted more had the
wretched man possessed it. Tavernier makes several references to the Great
Mogul, which are included under that entry.
A drawing of the Orlov Diamond from the 1904 book Precious Stones by
Max Bauer. The stone's outline is somewhat irregular, rather than the oval
stone that Tom R. Barbour's cutting instructions call for, which appeared
in his famous diamond replica series in Lapidary Journal in the early-1960's.
The drawing of the diamond matches Ian Balfour's description very closely, with
triangular facets towards the top of the diamond and four-sided facets toward
the bottom. The bottom of the diamond appears to have three large facets, one
the middle one either curved off or horizontal, and a diagonal one on either
side.
It is clear that the Great Mogul was the leviathan of all old
Indian diamonds and that it was appreciated as such. But the mystery remains:
what fate could have befallen such a great gem of which all trace appears to
have been lost. Some have suggested that it was cut into smaller gems. Others
suggest that it does exist today in the guise of another diamond, and the names
of three in particular have been put forward: the
Darya-I-Nur, the
Koh-I-Noor, and the
Orlov.
The contents of the Iranian Treasury were opened up in the
1960s for examination and cataloguing by three Canadian experts, among them V.B.
Meen, who wrote a book about them titled The Crown Jewels of Iran. Their
researches demonstrated that the Darya-I-Nur, the most important gem in the
whole collection, bears no resemblance whatsoever to the Great Mogul. The
Darya-I-Nur is light pink in color, while its flat, oblong shape has been
demonstrably proved by the Candians to have been fashioned from the so-called
Great Table Diamond which figured as No. 3 in Tavernier's set of drawings.
The evidence for identifying the Koh-I-Noor with the Great
Mogul is stronger. When the diamond was brought to England in 1850, drawings
were made that showed its diameter approximated to that of the Great Mogul. The
gem was considerably flatter but it showed the surfaces wence portions had been
removed by cleavage. On the other hand, some authorities have always maintained
that the existence of of the Koh-I-Noor had been known long before the advent of
the Great Mogul and have identified it as the great diamond owned by Babur
(1483-1530), the first of the Mogul dynasty. Babur reigned about a century and a
half before Aurangzeb. It us unlikely that anyone will ever know for certain one
way or the other the truth about the earliest history of the Koh-I-Noor.
There remains the Orlov. When a comparison is made between
Tavernier's drawing of the Great Mogul and the photographs of the diamond in the
Kremlin, it immediately becomes apparent there are similarities. The first lies
in the shape. It will be recalled that the Orlov has been described as
resembling half a pigeon's egg and that Tavernier referred to the Great Mogul as
presenting 'the form of an egg cut in half.' Throughout history there cannot
have been many diamonds of such an unusual form. Secondly, the pattern of facets
of the two stones is not dissimilar. Thirdly, the previously-mentioned slight
indentation that exists in the Orlov must correspond to Tavernier's note to that
effect that 'there is a slight crack and a little flaw in it.' In addition, as
will be shortly shown, the story of the Great Mogul would appear to have no
known ending and that of the Orlov has no clear beginning - further historical
evidence that they are probably one and the same diamond.
On the other hand, there is the discrepancy between the
weights of the two stones. After being cut by the Venetian, Borgio, the Great
Mogul's weight was reduced to around 280 carats, whereas the Orlov is estimated
to be less than 200 carats. In this connection two points must be made. First,
it has been shown by others that Tavernier may not always have recorded with
accuracy the weights of the various stones he examined; for example, it is
almost certain that he erred in the weight he gave for the Great Table Diamond.
Secondly, it is not at all unlikely that at some point in its complicated
history a further attempt may have been made to alter the state of the Orlov -
to improve upon the efforts of Hortensio Borgio, by grinding away a portion of
the top of Tavernier's diamond to resemble the shape of the Orlov today.
Finally, the Soviet authority on gems, Academician Alexander E. Fersman, who
examined all the former Crown Jewels from a gemological point of view, was in no
doubt that the Orlov was the same diamond as the Great Mogul.
The Imperial Sceptre, viewed from straight-on. The Orlov is surrounded
by a row of small Old Mine cut diamonds. The setting around the diamond
is relatively simple and could very likely be replicated, but despite it, it is
sadly unlikely the GIA will ever be able to fully examine the great diamond.
According to one account, the earliest known fact about the
Orlov is that it was set as one of the eyes of an idol in a sacred temple in the
south of India. This temple is stated to have been situated at a site
alternatively spelled by past authors as 'Srirangen', 'Sherigan', 'Scheringham',
and ' Sheringham'. But its true location is Srirangam, a town in the
Tiruchirapalli (Trichinopoly) district of Madras which stands on an island
formed by the tranching of the Cauvery River, about 3.2 km north of
Tiruchirapalli city. The island, measuring 27 km long and 1.5 to 2 km wide, was
strategically important as a base during the struggle between the English and
French forces for Trichinopoly in the 18th century.
The great temple at Srirangem, dating from the 17th century,
is dedicated to Vishnu and is regarded as one of the most sacred shrines in
southern India. It is composed of seven rectangular enclosures, one within
another, the outermost having a perimeter exceeding 11.25 km in length. A
remarkable feature is the Hall of a Thousand Pillars, with its colonnade of
rearing horses.
A French soldier, who deserted and found employment in the
neighborhood of Srirangem, learned that the temple contained the celebrated idol
of a Hindu god, the eyes of which formed by two large diamonds of inestimable
value. Thereupon he made a plan to seize the gems, a feat which necessitated
years rather than months of planning, since no Christian was ever admitted
beyond the fourth of the seven enclosures. So in order to effect his evil
purpose, he embraced the Hindu faith and eventually obtained employment within
the walls of the temple. By degrees he gained the confidence of the unsuspecting
Brahmins and was allowed in as a frequent worshipper at the inner shrine,
because of his apparent veneration for this particular divinity. Ultimately, he
secured the appointment of guardian to the innermost shrine within which lay the
object of his attention.
Then came the moment for which the Frenchman had waited so
long, a stormy night that masked the idol in fitful shadows. He laid his
sacrilegious hands upon the diety entrusted to his care and prized one of the
diamond eyes out of its socket. Losing courage, he then fled the scene leaving
the other diamond behind. He scaled the walls of the temple, swam the river and
escaped into the surrounding jungle to the comparative safety of the English
army encamped at Trichinopoly, and all the while the tempest raged. Finally, he
made his way to Madras, where he sold the diamond for £2000 to an English sea
captain who brought it to London and sold it to a Jewish merchant for £12,000.
The merchant, in turn, is said to have sold it to an Armenian by the name of
Khojeh Raphael, who had left Persia as a young man, sailed to Surat and then
traveled by sea to England and then to Russia, passing through Amsterdam.
Apparently, his travels had taken him to most European countries before he
decided to settle as a merchant in the Italian port of Leghorn. According to a
Persian traveler, Khojeh was 'a complete old scoundrel, who had seen a great
deal of this world and understood a number of languages.'
This colorful account of the Orlov cannot be relied upon as
authorative. The real point of interest concerns the identity of the second
diamond in the idol. Which diamond could possibly have been set as the eye? The
candidates are few, with the Koh-I-Noor being foremost amongst them, but we know
that this historic gem had been taken from Delhi in 1739 by the Persian Nadir
Shah. Perhaps the second eye of the idol had filled by some other precious stone
or had the idol itself at some time suffered the same fate as Nelson at Calvi?
Another version of the Orlov's journey to Europe is even more
lurid. This account begins with the diamond belonging to the Mogul rulers and
being amongst the loot carried off from Delhi by the Persians under Nadir Shah.
Shortly after Nadir Shah had been murdered in 1747, an Afghan soldier, formerly
in his service, appeared in Bassorah, a large town situated on the Shatt-el-Arab,
some 112 km north of the Persian Gulf. The original city of Bassorah, of
Thousand and One Nights fame, was founded by Caliph Omar I in AD 636, some
13 km from the modern city of Basra, which, like its predecessor, is an
important port and trading center for produce from the east.
As well as the diamond, the Afghan brought with him many
other expensive jewels, all of which he offered to an Armenian merchant named
Grigori Safras, then residing with his two brothers in Bassorah. Safras was
astonished at such a valuable hoard in the hands of a poor soldier who was
obviously unaware of its true value. He was obliged to postpone the chance of
doing business with the soldier in order to find sufficient funds. In the mean
time, the Afghan became suspicious of the merchant's delay and, believing that a
trap was being laid for him, disappeared from the city as mysteriously as he had
entered.
The soldier made his way to Baghdad where he met a Jewish
trader to whom he sold his treasures for 65,000 piastres (then about £500) and
two fine Arab horses. But instead of returning home, he proceeded to squander
his newly acquired riches in a bout of dissipation. Unfortunately, in the middle
of his revels he met up again with Safras who this time determined not to lose
site of the man. Disappointed to learn that the Afghan had sold his treasure,
however, he was able to learn the whereabouts of the trader's residence, and
lost no time in calling on him. Safras offered the merchant twice the amount he
had paid for the diamond but the trader was unwilling to part with it. Thereupon
Safras had consulted his two brothers who had joined him in Baghdad; they
decided to acquire the diamond by foul means. Having successfully accomplished
this, it became obvious that the Afghan would also need to be disposed of,
because his evidence would incriminate the brothers. So, taking advantage of his
liking for riotous living, they induced him to join them the next day for a bout
of drinking during the course of which they administered poison. The bodies of
the Jewish trader and Afghan soldier were placed together in a sack and thrown
by night into the River Tigris.
The slaughter had not yet finished. Events had run smoothly
for the murderers up to that point, but when it came time to the distribution of
the plunder, each of the three brothers insisted on having the diamond. As it
was impossible to divide the gem into three equal parts, and as neither of his
brothers was prepared to waive his claim, the wily Safras treated them in
exactly the same way that they had treated their unfortunate victims. So Safras
perpetuated a double fratricide and another sack was dumped into the Tigris.
After such a spate of killings, the Armenian wisely considered it prudent to
move on; accordingly he made his way to Constantinople, then through Hungary to
Silesia, before arriving in Amsterdam. Here he set himself up as a dealer in
precious stones. One can only hope that the city's pre-eminence as a trading
center was what attracted him, rather than its aqueous situation.
Now according to Edwin Streeter's book The Great Diamonds
of the World, this second version of the history of the Orlov Diamond does
not refer to the Orlov at all, but to a totally different diamond called the
Moon of the Mountains, which weighed 120 carats. However, no trace of such a
diamond exists today, least of all in the Russian Diamond Fund. In addition the
Russian authorities have brought to light records which indicate that around
1768 their great diamond had indeed passed into the hands of an individual named
Safras. Moreover they have also referred to the city of Astrakhan in their
account of Orlov, a reference which is possibly explained by Streeter.
He states that after setting up in Amsterdam as a dealer,
Safras drew the attention of certain European rulers, among them Catherine the
Great of Russia, to his jewels. The Empress was apparently much taken by the
description of the Armenian's great diamond, and invited Safras to her capital,
St. Petersburg, where she put him in touch with the Court jeweler, I.L. Lazarev.
Negotiations broke down over an agreed price for the gem, the amount being
requested by Safras considered exorbitant. However, Count Panin, the favorite
minister of the Empress at the time, proved equal to the occasion and ultimately
showed himself more than a match for the astute Armenian. The demands of Safras
were neither agreed to nor rejected; instead he was gradually led into a style
of living with proved beyond his means, with the result that he ran heavily into
debt. When his means were exhausted, Panin abruptly terminated the negotiations
and informed Safras that he could not leave Russia, or even St. Petersburg,
until all his creditors had been paid. Safras was thus at the mercy of the
minister; nevertheless he was determined not to sacrifice his diamond and he
succeeded in raising enough money to settle his outstanding debts by selling
other gems among the Armenian community in St. Petersburg. Thereupon he withdrew
from the Russian capital.
A few years later the Russian Court learned that Safras was
residing in Astrakhan and negotiations were reopened for the sale of the
diamond, which he was induced to part with, apparently on the original terms.
However, at this point in the diamond's history there is yet more confusion. It
has always been thought that the diamond's much traveled purchaser bought the
gem in Amsterdam; there were reports in the London press to that effect. So the
conclusion to be drawn is that the business was not successfully completed in
Astrakhan - Count Orlov had to travel to Amsterdam to finalize the arrangements.
By this time the gem had become known as the Amsterdam Diamond.
Count Grigorievich Orlov (1723-83) was a Russian nobleman and
an army officer of great distinction. He was wounded no less than three times
during the various campaigns of the Seven Years War. On one occasion he was
detailed to escort an important Prussian officer as a prisoner-of-war to St.
Petersburg where in 1759 he was presented to the Grand Duke Peter and his
consort, Catherine. Leading a riotous life in the capital, he caught the fancy
of the Grand Duchess and became her lover. After the accession of Catherine's
husband to the throne as Peter III, Orlov and his younger brother, Count Aleksei
Grigorievich, organized the coup of July, 1762 whereby the weak Peter III was
dethroned in favor of Catherine and then murdered.
Catherine appointed her lover adjutant-general,
director-general of engineers and general-in-chief, but Count Panin, who was her
political mentor, frustrated the intention of the Empress to marry Orlov.
Continuing to serve Catherine in various capacities, Orlov became deeply
recently when she took Aleksander Vassilchikov, then Grigori Potemkin, as lovers
in his place. He left Russia in 1775.
Two years earlier Orlov had visited Amsterdam where he came
to learn of the existence of Safras' great diamond. He bought it for a sum
reputed to have been 1,400,000 florins, equivalent to 400,000 rubles. Such a
purchase, doubtless, would have been made both to remind Catherine of the role
which Orlov had played in her accession to the throne and hopefully to restore
himself in her favor. This possibility appeared even stronger at the time,
because Catherine herself had refused to accept Safras' original asking price
for the diamond to the Empress on her Saint's Day; she accepted it and had it
set in the Imperial Sceptre, designed by Troitnoki, immediately beneath the
golden eagle. The Empress gave Orlov a marble palace at St. Petersburg, but she
never rewarded him with his former position as her favorite. In 1777 Count Orlov
married his cousin, but following her death in Lausanne in 1782, he became
mentally deranged and returned to Russia to die the following year.
Interestingly, there is supposed to exist a document signed
by both Orlov and Lazarev, the court jeweler at St. Petersburg, which places an
entirely different interpretation upon the circumstances surrounding the
former's purchase of the diamond. The Russian author suggest that the role of
Count Orlov was merely that of a go-between in the transaction and that it was
Catherine the Great who purchased the diamond. The Empress employed
intermediaries for two reason: first, she wished to contast her own alleged
'German frugality' (she had been born a German princess) with the reckless
spending habits of her predecessors, and secondly, she considered that it would
not have been proper for a monarch to bargain over the purchase price -
something which Orlov himself could do. And it was for this service to the
Empress that Orlov earned the honor of giving his name to the diamond.
There is a legend concerning the diamond, dating from the
time of Napoleon. As the Emperor of France's forces were approaching Moscow
during the campaign of 1812, the Orlov was secreted in the tomb of a priest in
the Kremlin. When Napoleon entered Moscow he gave orders that the gem be sought.
After he learned of its whereabouts, Napoleon in person, accompanied by his
bodyguards, proceeded to the Kremlin to secure the diamond. The tomb was opened
to reveal the great gem. One of the bodyguards stretched out a hand to take the
diamond, but before he had touched it the ghost of the priest rose up and cursed
the invaders. Napoleon and his bodyguards are then suppose to have fled
empty-handed from the Kremlin. Now, on almost all counts this would appear to be
nothing more than legend, but it adds yet one more detail to this already
complex and most colorful story. Sources: Famous Diamonds by Ian Balfour,
The Nature of Diamonds by George E. Harlow, Precious Stones by Max
Bauer, Diamonds - Myth, Magic, and Reality by Ronne Peltsman, Neil Grant and
about 22 contributing specialists/authors.