of a few hours, and many persons in the humbler walks of life, who had
risen poor in the morning, went to bed in affluence. An extensive holder
of stock, being taken ill, sent his servant to sell two hundred and
fifty shares, at eight thousand livres each, the price at which they
were then quoted. The servant went, and, on his arrival in the Jardin de
Soissons, found that in the interval the price had risen to ten thousand
livres. The difference of two thousand livres on the two hundred and
fifty shares, amounting to 500,000 livres, or 20,000 pounds sterling, he
very coolly transferred to his own use, and, giving the remainder to his
master, set out the same evening for another country. Law's coachman in
a very short time made money enough to set up a carriage of his own, and
requested permission to leave his service. Law, who esteemed the man,
begged of him as a favour, that he would endeavour, before he went, to
find a substitute as good as himself. The coachman consented, and in the
evening brought two of his former comrades, telling Mr. Law to choose
between them, and he would take the other. Cookmaids and footmen
were now and then as lucky, and, in the full-blown pride of their
easily-acquired wealth, made the most ridiculous mistakes. Preserving
the language and manners of their old, with the finery of their new
station, they afforded continual subjects for the pity of the sensible,
the contempt of the sober, and the laughter of everybody. But the folly
and meanness of the higher ranks of society were still more disgusting.
One instance alone, related by the Duke de St. Simon, will show the
unworthy avarice which infected the whole of society. A man of the name
of Andre, without character or education, had, by a series of well-timed
speculations in Mississippi bonds, gained enormous wealth, in an
incredibly short space of time. As St. Simon expresses it, "he had
amassed mountains of gold." As he became rich, he grew ashamed of the
lowness of his birth, and anxious above all things to be allied to
nobility. He had a daughter, an infant only three years of age, and he
opened a negotiation with the aristocratic and needy family of D'Oyse,
that this child should, upon certain conditions, marry a member of that
house. The Marquis d'Oyse, to his shame, consented, and promised to
marry her himself on her attaining the age of twelve, if the father
would pay him down the sum of a hundred thousand crowns, and twenty
thousand livres every year, until the celebration of the marriage. The
Marquis was himself in his thirty-third year. This scandalous bargain
was duly signed and sealed, the stockjobber furthermore agreeing to
settle upon his daughter, on the marriage-day, a fortune of several
millions. The Duke of Brancas, the head of the family, was present
throughout the negotiation, and shared in all the profits. St. Simon,
who treats the matter with the levity becoming what he thought so good
a joke, adds, "that people did not spare their animadversions on this
beautiful marriage," and further informs us, "that the project fell to
the ground some months afterwards by the overthrow of Law, and the ruin
of the ambitious Monsieur Andre." It would appear, however, that the
noble family never had the honesty to return the hundred thousand
crowns.
Amid events like these, which, humiliating though they be, partake
largely of the ludicrous, others occurred of a more serious nature.
Robberies in the streets were of daily occurrence, in consequence of
the immense sums, in paper, which people carried about with them.
Assassinations were also frequent. One case in particular fixed the
attention of the whole of France, not only on account of the enormity of
the offence, but of the rank and high connexions of the criminal.
The Count d'Horn, a younger brother of the Prince d'Horn, and related
to the noble families of D'Aremberg, De Ligne, and De Montmorency, was
a young man of dissipated character, extravagant to a degree, and
unprincipled as he was extravagant. In connexion with two other young
men as reckless as himself, named Mille, a Piedmontese captain, and one
Destampes, or Lestang, a Fleming, he formed a design to rob a very rich
broker, who was known, unfortunately for himself, to carry great sums
about his person. The Count pretended a desire to purchase of him a
number of shares in the Company of the Indies, and for that purpose
appointed to meet him in a cabaret, or low public-house, in the
neighbourhood of the Place Vendome. The unsuspecting broker was punctual
to his appointment; so were the Count d'Horn and his two associates,
whom he introduced as his particular friends. After a few moments'
conversation, the Count d'Horn suddenly sprang upon his victim, and
stabbed him three times in the breast with a poniard. The man fell
heavily to the ground, and, while the Count was employed in rifling his
portfolio of bonds in the Mississippi and Indian schemes to the amount
of one hundred thousand crowns, Mille, the Piedmontese, stabbed the
unfortunate broker again and again, to make sure of his death. But the
broker did not fall without a struggle, and his cries brought the people
of the cabaret to his assistance. Lestang, the other assassin, who had
been set to keep watch at a staircase, sprang from a window and escaped;
but Mille and the Count d'Horn were seized in the very act.
This crime, committed in open day, and in so public a place as a
cabaret, filled Paris with consternation. The trial of the assassins
commenced on the following day, and the evidence being so clear, they
were both found guilty and condemned to be broken alive on the wheel.
The noble relatives of the Count d'Horn absolutely blocked up the
ante-chambers of the Regent, praying for mercy on the misguided youth,
and alleging that he was insane. The Regent avoided them as long as
possible, being determined that, in a case so atrocious, justice should
take its course; but the importunity of these influential suitors was
not to be overcome so silently, and they at last forced themselves into
the presence of the Regent, and prayed him to save their house the shame
of a public execution. They hinted that the Princes d'Horn were allied
to the illustrious family of Orleans, and added that the Regent himself
would be disgraced if a kinsman of his should die by the hands of a
common executioner. The Regent, to his credit, was proof against all
their solicitations, and replied to their last argument in the words of
Corneille,--
"Le crime fait la honte, et non pas l'echafaud:"
adding, that whatever shame there might be in the punishment he would
very willingly share with the other relatives. Day after day they
renewed their entreaties, but always with the same result. At last
they thought that if they could interest the Duke de St. Simon in
their layout, a man for whom the Regent felt sincere esteem, they might
succeed in their object. The Duke, a thorough aristocrat, was as shocked
as they were, that a noble assassin should die by the same death as a
plebeian felon, and represented to the Regent the impolicy of making
enemies of so numerous, wealthy, and powerful a family. He urged, too,
that in Germany, where the family of D'Aremberg had large possessions,
it was the law, that no relative of a person broken on the wheel could
succeed to any public office or employ until a whole generation had
passed away. For this reason he thought the punishment of the guilty
Count might be transmuted into beheading, which was considered all over
Europe as much less infamous. The Regent was moved by this argument, and
was about to consent, when Law, who felt peculiarly interested in the
fate of the murdered man, confirmed him in his former resolution, to let
the law take its course.
The relatives of D'Horn were now reduced to the last extremity. The
Prince de Robec Montmorency, despairing of other methods, found means
to penetrate into the dungeon of the criminal, and offering him a cup of
poison, implored him to save them from disgrace. The Count d'Horn turned
away his head, and refused to take it. Montmorency pressed him once
more, and losing all patience at his continued refusal, turned on his
heel, and exclaiming, "Die, then, as thou wilt, mean-spirited wretch!
thou art fit only to perish by the hands of the hangman!" left him to
his fate.
D'Horn himself petitioned the Regent that he might be beheaded, but Law,
who exercised more influence over his mind than any other person, with
the exception of the notorious Abbe Dubois, his tutor, insisted that
he could not in justice succumb to the self-interested views of the
D'Horns. The Regent had from the first been of the same opinion, and
within six days after the commission of their crime, D'Horn and Mille
were broken on the wheel in the Place de Greve. The other assassin,
Lestang, was never apprehended.
This prompt and severe justice was highly pleasing to the populace of
Paris; even M. de Quincampoix, as they called Law, came in for a share
of their approbation for having induced the Regent to show no favour
to a patrician. But the number of robberies and assassinations did
not diminish. No sympathy was shown for rich jobbers when they were
plundered: the general laxity of public morals, conspicuous enough
before, was rendered still more so by its rapid pervasion of the middle
classes, who had hitherto remained comparatively pure, between the open
vices of the class above and the hidden crimes of the class below them.
The pernicious love of gambling diffused itself through society, and
bore all public, and nearly all private, virtue before it.
For a time, while confidence lasted, an impetus was given to trade,
which could not fail to be beneficial. In Paris, especially, the good
results were felt. Strangers flocked into the capital from every part,
bent, not only upon making money, but on spending it. The Duchess of
Orleans, mother of the Regent, computes the increase of the population
during this time, from the great influx of strangers from all parts of
the world, at 305,000 souls. The housekeepers were obliged to make up
beds in garrets, kitchens, and even stables, for the accommodation of
lodgers; and the town was so full of carriages and vehicles of every
description, that they were obliged in the principal streets to drive at
a foot-pace for fear of accidents. The looms of the country worked with
unusual activity, to supply rich laces, silks, broad-cloth, and velvets,
which being paid for in abundant paper, increased in price four-fold.
Provisions shared the general advance; bread, meat, and vegetables were
sold at prices greater than had ever before been known; while the wages
of labour rose in exactly the same proportion. The artisan, who formerly
gained fifteen sous per diem, now gained sixty. New houses were built
in every direction; an illusory prosperity shone over the land, and so
dazzled the eyes of the whole nation that none could see the dark cloud
on the horizon, announcing the storm that was too rapidly approaching.
Law himself, the magician whose wand had wrought so surprising a change,
shared, of course, in the general prosperity. His wife and daughter were
courted by the highest nobility, and their alliance sought by the
heirs of ducal and princely houses. He bought two splendid estates
in different parts of France, and entered into a negotiation with the
family of the Duke de Sully for the purchase of the Marquisate of Rosny.
His religion being an obstacle to his advancement, the Regent promised,
if he would publicly conform to the Catholic faith, to make him
comptroller-general of the finances. Law, who had no more real religion
than any other professed gambler, readily agreed, and was confirmed by
the Abbe de Tencin in the cathedral of Melun, in presence of a great
crowd of spectators.
[The following squib was circulated on the occasion:--
"Foin de ton zele seraphique,
Malheureux Abbe de Tencin,
Depuis que Law est Catholique,
Tout le royaume est Capucin
Thus, somewhat weakly and paraphrastically rendered by Justansond, in
his translation of the "Memoirs of Louis XV:"--
"Tencin, a curse on thy seraphic zeal,
Which by persuasion hath contrived the means
To make the Scotchman at our altars kneel,
Since which we all are poor as Capucines?]
On the following day he was elected honorary churchwarden of the parish
of St. Roch, upon which occasion he made it a present of the sum of five
hundred thousand livres. His charities, always magnificent, were not
always so ostentatious. He gave away great sums privately, and no tale
of real distress ever reached his ears in vain.
At this time, he was by far the most influential person of the state.
The Duke of Orleans had so much confidence in his sagacity, and the
success of his plans, that he always consulted him upon every matter
of moment. He was by no means unduly elevated by his prosperity, but
remained the same simple, affable, sensible man that he had shown
himself in adversity. His gallantry, which was always delightful to the
fair objects of it, was of a nature, so kind, so gentlemanly, and so
respectful, that not even a lover could have taken offence at it. If
upon any occasion he showed any symptoms of haughtiness, it was to the
cringing nobles, who lavished their adulation upon him till it became
fulsome. He often took pleasure in seeing how long he could make them
dance attendance upon him for a single favour. To such of his own
countrymen as by chance visited Paris, and sought an interview with him,
he was, on the contrary, all politeness and attention. When Archibald
Campbell, Earl of Islay, and afterwards Duke of Argyle, called upon him
in the Place Vendome, he had to pass through an ante-chamber crowded
with persons of the first distinction, all anxious to see the great
financier, and have their names put down as first on the list of some
new subscription. Law himself was quietly sitting in his library,
writing a letter to the gardener at his paternal estate of Lauriston
about the planting of some cabbages! The Earl stayed for a considerable
time, played a game of piquet with his countryman, and left him, charmed
with his ease, good sense, and good breeding.
Among the nobles who, by means of the public credulity at this time,
gained sums sufficient to repair their ruined fortunes, may be mentioned
the names of the Dukes de Bourbon, de Guiche, de la Force [The Duke de
la Force gained considerable sums, not only by jobbing in the stocks,
but in dealing in porcelain, spices, &c. It was debated for a length of
time in the Parliament of Paris whether he had not, in his quality of
spice-merchant, forfeited his rank in the peerage. It was decided in
the negative. A caricature of him was made, dressed as a street porter,
carrying a large bale of spices on his back, with the inscription,
"Admirez La Force."], de Chaulnes, and d'Antin; the Marechal d'Estrees,
the Princes de Rohan, de Poix, and de Leon. The Duke de Bourbon, son
of Louis XIV by Madame de Montespan, was peculiarly fortunate in his
speculations in Mississippi paper. He rebuilt the royal residence of
Chantilly in a style of unwonted magnificence, and, being passionately
fond of horses, he erected a range of stables, which were long renowned
throughout Europe, and imported a hundred and fifty of the finest racers
from England, to improve the breed in France. He bought a large extent
of country in Picardy, and became possessed of nearly all the valuable
lands lying between the Oise and the Somme.
When fortunes such as these were gained, it is no wonder that Law should
have been almost worshipped by the mercurial population. Never was
monarch more flattered than he was. All the small poets and litterateurs
of the day poured floods of adulation upon him. According to them he was
the saviour of the country, the tutelary divinity of France; wit was in
all his words, goodness in all his looks, and wisdom in all his actions.
So great a crowd followed his carriage whenever he went abroad, that the
Regent sent him a troop of horse as his permanent escort, to clear the
streets before him.
It was remarked at this time, that Paris had never before been so full
of objects of elegance and luxury. Statues, pictures, and tapestries
were imported in great quantities from foreign countries, and found
a ready market. All those pretty trifles in the way of furniture and
ornament which the French excel in manufacturing, were no longer the
exclusive play-things of the aristocracy, but were to be found in
abundance in the houses of traders and the middle classes in general.
Jewellery of the most costly description was brought to Paris as the
most favourable mart. Among the rest, the famous diamond, bought by
the Regent, and called by his name, and which long adorned the crown of
France. It was purchased for the sum of two millions of livres, under
circumstances which show that the Regent was not so great a gainer as
some of his subjects, by the impetus which trade had received. When
the diamond was first offered to him, he refused to buy it, although he
desired, above all things, to possess it, alleging as his reason, that
his duty to the country he governed would not allow him to spend
so large a sum of the public money for a mere jewel. This valid and
honourable excuse threw all the ladies of the court into alarm, and
nothing was heard for some days but expressions of regret, that so rare
a gem should be allowed to go out of France; no private individual being
rich enough to buy it. The Regent was continually importuned about it;
but all in vain, until the Duke de St. Simon, who, with all his ability,
was something of a twaddler, undertook the weighty business. His
entreaties, being seconded by Law, the good-natured Regent gave his
consent, leaving to Law's ingenuity to find the means to pay for it. The
owner took security for the payment of the sum of two millions of livres
within a stated period, receiving, in the mean time, the interest of
five per cent. upon that amount, and being allowed, besides, all the
valuable clippings of the gem. St. Simon, in his Memoirs, relates, with
no little complacency, his share in this transaction. After describing
the diamond to be as large as a greengage, of a form nearly round,
perfectly white, and without flaw, and weighing more than five hundred
grains, he concludes with a chuckle, by telling the world, "that he
takes great credit to himself for having induced the Regent to make
so illustrious a purchase." In other words, he was proud that he had
induced him to sacrifice his duty, and buy a bauble for himself, at an
extravagant price, out of the public money.
Thus the system continued to flourish till the commencement of the year
1720. The warnings of the Parliament, that too great a creation of paper
money would, sooner or later, bring the country to bankruptcy, were
disregarded. The Regent, who knew nothing whatever of the philosophy
of finance, thought that a system which had produced such good effects
could never be carried to excess. If five hundred millions of paper had
been of such advantage, five hundred millions additional would be of
still greater advantage. This was the grand error of the Regent, and
which Law did not attempt to dispel. The extraordinary avidity of the
people kept up the delusion; and the higher the price of Indian and
Mississippi stock, the more billets de banque were issued to keep pace
with it. The edifice thus reared might not unaptly be compared to the
gorgeous palace erected by Potemkin, that princely barbarian of Russia,
to surprise and please his imperial mistress: huge blocks of ice were
piled one upon another; ionic pillars, of chastest workmanship, in ice,
formed a noble portico; and a dome, of the same material, shone in the
sun, which had just strength enough to gild, but not to melt it. It
glittered afar, like a palace of crystals and diamonds; but there came
one warm breeze from the south, and the stately building dissolved away,
till none were able even to gather up the fragments. So with Law and his
paper system. No sooner did the breath of popular mistrust blow steadily
upon it, than it fell to ruins, and none could raise it up again.
The first slight alarm that was occasioned was early in 1720. The Prince
de Conti, offended that Law should have denied him fresh shares in India
stock, at his own price, sent to his bank to demand payment in specie
of so enormous a quantity of notes, that three waggons were required for
its transport. Law complained to the Regent, and urged on his attention
the mischief that would be done, if such an example found many
imitators. The Regent was but too well aware of it, and, sending for the
Prince de Conti, ordered him, under penalty of his high displeasure, to
refund to the Bank two-thirds of the specie which he had withdrawn from
it. The Prince was forced to obey the despotic mandate. Happily for
Law's credit, De Conti was an unpopular man: everybody condemned his
meanness and cupidity, and agreed that Law had been hardly treated. It
is strange, however, that so narrow an escape should not have made both
Law and the Regent more anxious to restrict their issues. Others were
soon found who imitated, from motives of distrust, the example which had
been set by De Conti in revenge. The more acute stockjobbers imagined
justly that prices could not continue to rise for ever. Bourdon and
La Richardiere, renowned for their extensive operations in the funds,
quietly and in small quantities at a time, converted their notes into
specie, and sent it away to foreign countries. They also bought as much
as they could conveniently carry of plate and expensive jewellery, and
sent it secretly away to England or to Holland. Vermalet, a jobber, who
sniffed the coming storm, procured gold and silver coin to the amount
of nearly a million of livres, which he packed in a farmer's cart, and
covered over with hay and cow-dung. He then disguised himself in the
dirty smock-frock, or blouse, of a peasant, and drove his precious load
in safety into Belgium. From thence he soon found means to transport it
to Amsterdam.
Hitherto no difficulty had been experienced by any class in procuring
specie for their wants. But this system could not long be carried on
without causing a scarcity. The voice of complaint was heard on every
side, and inquiries being instituted, the cause was soon discovered. The
council debated long on the remedies to be taken, and Law, being called
on for his advice, was of opinion, that an edict should be published,
depreciating the value of coin five per cent. below that of paper. The
edict was published accordingly; but, failing of its intended effect,
was followed by another, in which the depreciation was increased to ten
per cent. The payments of the bank were at the same time restricted to
one hundred livres in gold, and ten in silver. All these measures were
nugatory to restore confidence in the paper, though the restriction of
cash payments within limits so extremely narrow kept up the credit of
the Bank.
Notwithstanding every effort to the contrary, the precious metals
continued to be conveyed to England and Holland. The little coin that
was left in the country was carefully treasured, or hidden until the
scarcity became so great, that the operations of trade could no longer
be carried on. In this emergency, Law hazarded the bold experiment of
forbidding the use of specie altogether. In February 1720 an edict was
published, which, instead of restoring the credit of the paper, as was
intended, destroyed it irrecoverably, and drove the country to the very
brink of revolution. By this famous edict it was forbidden to any person
whatever to have more than five hundred livres (20 pounds sterling) of
coin in his possession, under pain of a heavy fine, and confiscation of
the sums found. It was also forbidden to buy up jewellery, plate,
and precious stones, and informers were encouraged to make search for
offenders, by the promise of one-half the amount they might discover.
The whole country sent up a cry of distress at this unheard-of tyranny.
The most odious persecution daily took place. The privacy of families
was violated by the intrusion of informers and their agents. The most
virtuous and honest were denounced for the crime of having been seen
with a louis d'or in their possession. Servants betrayed their
masters, one citizen became a spy upon his neighbour, and arrests and
confiscations so multiplied, that the courts found a difficulty in
getting through the immense increase of business thus occasioned. It
was sufficient for an informer to say that he suspected any person of
concealing money in his house, and immediately a search-warrant was
granted. Lord Stair, the English ambassador, said, that it was now
impossible to doubt of the sincerity of Law's conversion to the Catholic
religion; he had established the inquisition, after having given
abundant evidence of his faith in transubstantiation, by turning so much
gold into paper.