Tulips arrived in Western Europe from the Ottoman Empire in the mid-1500s. The flowers were unlike anything Europeans had seen - vivid colors, elegant shapes, and remarkable variety. The most prized tulips had 'broken' colors - streaks and flames of contrasting hues caused by a virus that weakened the bulbs but made them spectacularly beautiful.

The Dutch, already wealthy from trade, fell in love with tulips. Possession of rare varieties became a status symbol. A tulip garden demonstrated wealth, taste, and connection. The flowers themselves were beautiful. Their social meaning made them priceless.

By the 1630s, tulip trading had become detached from the flowers themselves. Bulbs were traded while still in the ground, with contracts for future delivery - essentially tulip futures. Buyers purchased paper representing bulbs they never intended to plant. Sellers sold bulbs they hadn't yet grown.

Prices rose continuously. A bulb that sold for 1,000 guilders in November might sell for 2,000 in December and 4,000 in January. People who had never seen a tulip bought and sold claims on bulbs that might not exist. The market operated in taverns, where drinks lubricated deals and inhibitions.

In early 1637, tulip prices reached absurd heights. A single Semper Augustus bulb sold for 10,000 guilders - enough to buy a grand house on an Amsterdam canal. A Viceroy bulb sold for 2,500 guilders at a time when a skilled craftsman earned 300 guilders per year.

The famous story tells of a sailor who mistook a tulip bulb for an onion and ate it with his breakfast. The bulb was reportedly worth enough to feed a ship's crew for a year. Whether true or not, the story captured the madness of a society where a flower bulb could bankrupt you if you ate it.

On February 3, 1637, in the city of Haarlem, a routine tulip auction found no buyers. The sellers lowered their prices. Still no buyers. The next day, the same happened. Within a week, prices had collapsed. Within a month, tulips had lost 99% of their value.

The crash left a trail of unpaid contracts. Buyers refused to pay for bulbs that were now worth pennies. Sellers demanded payment for contracts signed at peak prices. The Dutch government eventually intervened, voiding contracts signed after November 1636 in exchange for small penalties. The great tulip bubble had deflated.

Tulip mania became the ur-example of speculative bubbles - a story retold whenever markets go mad. Every subsequent bubble, from the South Sea Company to dot-com stocks to cryptocurrency, has been compared to the Dutch tulip craze. The lesson seems obvious: don't pay a house price for a flower.

But the lesson may be overstated. Recent historians argue that tulip mania was smaller and less destructive than traditionally believed. The economy didn't collapse. Most participants were wealthy and could afford their losses. The famous stories of sailors and chimney sweeps may be exaggerations. Still, the image endures: a society so wealthy it went mad for flowers, paying fortunes for beauty that would bloom once and rot.