Before the winter set in, I witnessed a man nearly reduced to tears as his newly purchased Ferrari 430 slowly rolled out of a delivery truck and into his private garage, conveniently tucked into the side of a building on 63rd street. As New Yorkers, especially as residents of the Upper East Side, it is not uncommon to see a slew of spectacular objects representing unrestrained wealth. Whether it is a luxurious car, incredible jewelry, or fabulous real estate (or any combination thereof), it is clear that, even in the face of global economic hardship, the rich are alive and well. However, what we consider to be a symbol of prestige can differ vastly from what is a measure of wealth in other cultures, or perhaps even more so, from other historical eras. Perhaps the most extraordinary example of a status symbol and the seventeenth century European culture that facilitated it can be summed up with one word: Tulipmania.

The stunning Semper Augustus. In 1636, this could have bought you a penthouse. Credit: Wikimedia Commons under the creative commons agreement

Few flowers have gone from obscurity to astounding fame like the tulip. Originally a wildflower growing in central Asia, the tulip, which derived its name from the Persian word for “turban,” was first commercially cultivated around 1000 AD by early botanists and flower enthusiasts of the Ottoman Empire. Drawn by its beauty, this society revered the tulip and, through horticultural experimentation, introduced a number of phenotypes associated with the flower’s color, shape, and blooming period. As the economic and political relationship between Europe and the Ottoman Empire grew, knowledge of this flower became more widespread within the botany circle. However, the tulip’s popularity in The Netherlands can be attributed to a single man—Carolus Clusius. This humanist, physician, and botanist was recruited by the Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian II to establish a botanical garden in Vienna, for which Clusius received tulip bulbs from the ambassador to Constantinople (Istanbul). After his dismissal from these gardens, Clusius became an honorary professor at the University at Leiden, where he would direct the development of a new botanical garden, hortus academicus. In 1594, one year after his arrival in The Netherlands, the tulip supposedly blossomed for the first time in Europe.

During this time, it was becoming fashionable to grow flower gardens, leading to the development of large flower markets. Clusius was disappointed by how flowers were becoming cheapened through commercialization when free exchange had always been a means for like-minded plant enthusiasts to share their prizes with each other. As a result, he became very protective over his precious tulip bulbs, and it was this covetous conduct that stoked the fires of envy. Despite this, over several years, many bulbs from Clusius’ tulip collection were taken and propagated for resale. Thus, the commercialization of the tulip had commenced.

Though flower gardens became a dime a dozen, nothing represented success like a tulip, and the desire to show off societal prominence catapulted tulips to the top of everyone’s wish list. However, supply could not keep up with demand. It generally takes 7-12 years for a tulip to flower from seed and, due to a great deal of genetic variation, it is nearly impossible to ensure that offspring will have the same characteristics as the parent. In order to control for this variation, tulips are essentially cloned through propagating from bulbs, thereby maintaining the qualities inherent to a specific variety. Overall, tulip breeding was a process that was painstakingly slow and largely contributed to the exorbitant prices of tulip bulbs.
In order to try and control the tulip market price, Dutch traders changed how a tulip’s value had been assessed. Whereas it had been the norm for buyers to purchase the tulip in the summer months after it had flowered (and they knew what it looked like), it became more acceptable to buy tulips in the winter for delivery in the summer, with only a promissory note describing the characteristics of the flower.

Additionally, breeders were introducing a slew of new varieties to the marketplace. By 1634, tulip prices were briefly depressed, increasing tulip accessibility to middle class tradesmen. But by 1636, a future’s market had been created for tulip bulbs and many investors were buying the bulbs in the winter at a fixed price (which was largely speculative) under the assumption that the bulb would actually be worth more when lifted from the ground the following summer. In theory, they could then re-sell the bulb based on its actual weight and turn a profit. This forced the tulip trade into a frenzy, and tulip dealers responded by doubling or tripling the speculated price of a single bulb.

The winter of 1636 saw the peak of Tulipmania in The Netherlands. Even the most common varieties of tulip were being sold at prices twenty times their original value. But, it was the highly sought after Semper Augustus, a “broken” tulip characterized by its flames of scarlet red on a white background, which boasted the highest price tag. This tulip (pictured) was the epitome of beauty in the eyes of the Dutch. Because it was a very scarce bulb, the Semper Augustus was valued at over 30 times the average yearly salary and, at the height of the tulipmania mayhem, a single Semper Augustus bulb was traded for an extravagant canal house—equivalent to a townhouse on 5th Avenue in today’s market. It is interesting to note that the much sought-after “broken” variety of tulip bulbs, such as Semper Augustus bulbs, were actually damaged goods. We now know that these tulips had been infected with a type of mosaic virus, called the “tulip breaking virus,” which caused the multi-colored phenotype in these flowers.

As tulips, and flowers in general, became very overvalued, people found themselves trading their possessions—every last item—for a piece of the tulip action. But, even when made of beautiful flowers, this economic bubble was too good to be true. On February 5 1637, the flower market in The Netherlands came crashing down, and the quick fortunes made by so many Dutch citizens were lost forever. Luckily, the Dutch stock market did not involve itself with tulips and this tulip crash had little effect on the Dutch economy. However, the crash of the tulip market did affect the reputation of many businessmen, ultimately leading to their financial ruin. Within days, the tulip went from representing the pinnacle of status to the symbol of economic folly.

The Netherlands is still the tulip capital of the world. Anyone who has visited the Bloemenmarkt in Amsterdam would know that the Dutch take their tulips, and flowers in general, very seriously. Furthermore, The Netherlands is home to Keukenhof, the largest flower garden in the world, where seven million flower bulbs are planted annually. But the tulip will always reign. With its extraordinary history and stunning beauty, we should all take a moment to honor this wonderful flower as it peaks through the once frozen ground. After this cold and snowy winter, it will certainly be a sight for sore eyes.

References:

H. Walter Lack. (2001). Ein Garten Eden (Martin Walters trans.). New York, NY: Taschen.

Mike Dash. (1999). Tulipomania. London, UK: Weidenfeld & Nicolson.

Anne Goldgar . (2007). Tulipmania: Money, Honor, and Knowledge in the Dutch Golden Age. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.