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

playthings 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 shew 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 wagons 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: every body 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 Richardière, 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.

[Illustration: LUCIFER'S NEW ROW-BARGE.[11]]

[11] "Lucifer's New Row-Barge" exhibits Law in a barge, with a

host of emblematic figures representing the Mississippi

follies.--_From a Print in Mr. Hawkins' Collection_.

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 (20l.) 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.

Every epithet that popular hatred could suggest was showered upon the

regent and the unhappy Law. Coin, to any amount above five hundred livres,

was an illegal tender, and nobody would take paper if he could help it. No

one knew to-day what his notes would be worth to-morrow. "Never," says

Duclos, in his _Secret Memoirs of the Regency_, "was seen a more

capricious government--never was a more frantic tyranny exercised by hands

less firm. It is inconceivable to those who were witnesses of the horrors

of those times, and who look back upon them now as on a dream, that a

sudden revolution did not break out--that Law and the regent did not

perish by a tragical death. They were both held in horror, but the people

confined themselves to complaints; a sombre and timid despair, a stupid

consternation, had seized upon all, and men's minds were too vile even to

be capable of a courageous crime." It would appear that, a one time, a

movement of the people was organised. Seditious writings were posted up

against the walls, and were sent, in hand-bills, to the houses of the most

conspicuous people. One of them, given in the _Mémoires de la Régence_,

was to the following effect:--"Sir and madam,--This is to give you notice

that a St. Bartholomew's Day will be enacted again on Saturday and Sunday,

if affairs do not alter. You are desired not to stir out, nor you, nor

your servants. God preserve you from the flames! Give notice to your

neighbours. Dated, Saturday, May 25th, 1720." The immense number of spies

with which the city was infested rendered the people mistrustful of one

another, and beyond some trifling disturbances made in the evening by an

insignificant group, which was soon dispersed, the peace of the capital

was not compromised.

[Illustration]

The value of shares in the Louisiana, or Mississippi stock, had fallen

very rapidly, and few indeed were found to believe the tales that had once

been told of the immense wealth of that region. A last effort was

therefore tried to restore the public confidence in the Mississippi

project. For this purpose, a general conscription of all the poor wretches

in Paris was made by order of government. Upwards of six thousand of the

very refuse of the population were impressed, as if in time of war, and

were provided with clothes and tools to be embarked for New Orleans, to

work in the gold mines alleged to abound there. They were paraded day

after day through the streets with their pikes and shovels, and then sent

off in small detachments to the out-ports to be shipped for America.

Two-thirds of them never reached their destination, but dispersed

themselves over the country, sold their tools for what they could get, and

returned to their old course of life. In less than three weeks afterwards,

one-half of them were to be found again in Paris. The manoeuvre, however,

caused a trifling advance in Mississippi stock. Many persons of

superabundant gullibility believed that operations had begun in earnest in

the new Golconda, and that gold and silver ingots would again be found in

France.

In a constitutional monarchy some surer means would have been found for

the restoration of public credit. In England, at a subsequent period, when

a similar delusion had brought on similar distress, how different were the

measures taken to repair the evil; but in France, unfortunately, the

remedy was left to the authors of the mischief. The arbitrary will of the

regent, which endeavoured to extricate the country, only plunged it deeper

into the mire. All payments were ordered to be made in paper, and between

the 1st of February and the end of May, notes were fabricated to the

amount of upwards of 1500 millions of livres, or 60,000,000l. sterling.

But the alarm once sounded, no art could make the people feel the

slightest confidence in paper which was not exchangeable into metal. M.

Lambert, the president of the parliament of Paris, told the regent to his

face that he would rather have a hundred thousand livres in gold or silver

than five millions in the notes of his bank. When such was the general

feeling, the superabundant issues of paper but increased the evil, by

rendering still more enormous the disparity between the amount of specie

and notes in circulation. Coin, which it was the object of the regent to

depreciate, rose in value on every fresh attempt to diminish it. In

February, it was judged advisable that the Royal Bank should be

incorporated with the Company of the Indies. An edict to that effect was

published and registered by the parliament. The state remained the

guarantee for the notes of the bank, and no more were to be issued without

an order in council. All the profits of the bank, since the time it had

been taken out of Law's hands and made a national institution, were given

over by the regent to the Company of the Indies. This measure had the

effect of raising for a short time the value of the Louisiana and other

shares of the company, but it failed in placing public credit on any

permanent basis.

A council of state was held in the beginning of May, at which Law,

D'Argenson (his colleague in the administration of the finances), and all

the ministers were present. It was then computed that the total amount of

notes in circulation was 2600 millions of livres, while the coin in the

country was not quite equal to half that amount. It was evident to the

majority of the council that some plan must be adopted to equalise the

currency. Some proposed that the notes should be reduced to the value of

the specie, while others proposed that the nominal value of the specie

should be raised till it was on an equality with the paper. Law is said to

have opposed both these projects, but failing in suggesting any other, it

was agreed that the notes should be depreciated one half. On the 21st of

May, an edict was accordingly issued, by which it was decreed that the

shares of the Company of the Indies, and the notes of the bank, should

gradually diminish in value, till at the end of a year they should only

pass current for one-half of their nominal worth. The parliament refused

to register the edict--the greatest outcry was excited, and the state of

the country became so alarming, that, as the only means of preserving

tranquillity, the council of the regency was obliged to stultify its own

proceedings, by publishing within seven days another edict, restoring the

notes to their original value.

On the same day (the 27th of May) the bank stopped payment in specie. Law

and D'Argenson were both dismissed from the ministry. The weak,

vacillating, and cowardly regent threw the blame of all the mischief upon

Law, who, upon presenting himself at the Palais Royal, was refused

admittance. At nightfall, however, he was sent for, and admitted into the

palace by a secret door,[12] when the regent endeavoured to console him,

and made all manner of excuses for the severity with which in public he

had been compelled to treat him. So capricious was his conduct, that, two

days afterwards, he took him publicly to the opera, where he sat in the

royal box alongside of the regent, who treated him with marked

consideration in face of all the people. But such was the hatred against

Law that the experiment had well nigh proved fatal to him. The mob

assailed his carriage with stones just as he was entering his own door;

and if the coachman had not made a sudden jerk into the court-yard, and

the domestics closed the gate immediately, he would, in all probability,

have been dragged out and torn to pieces. On the following day, his wife

and daughter were also assailed by the mob as they were returning in their

carriage from the races. When the regent was informed of these occurrences

he sent Law a strong detachment of Swiss guards, who were stationed night

and day in the court of his residence. The public indignation at last

increased so much, that Law, finding his own house, even with this guard,

insecure, took refuge in the Palais Royal, in the apartments of the

regent.

[12] Duclos, _Memoires Secrets de la Régence_.

The Chancellor, D'Aguesseau, who had been dismissed in 1718 for his

opposition to the projects of Law, was now recalled to aid in the

restoration of credit. The regent acknowledged too late, that he had

treated with unjustifiable harshness and mistrust one of the ablest, and

perhaps the sole honest public man of that corrupt period. He had retired

ever since his disgrace to his country house at Fresnes, where, in the

midst of severe but delightful philosophic studies, he had forgotten the

intrigues of an unworthy court. Law himself, and the Chevalier de

Conflans, a gentleman of the regent's household, were despatched in a

post-chaise with orders to bring the ex-chancellor to Paris along with

them. D'Aguesseau consented to render what assistance he could, contrary

to the advice of his friends, who did not approve that he should accept

any recal to office of which Law was the bearer. On his arrival in Paris,

five counsellors of the parliament were admitted to confer with the

Commissary of Finance; and on the 1st of June an order was published

abolishing the law which made it criminal to amass coin to the amount of

more than five hundred livres. Every one was permitted to have as much

specie as he pleased. In order that the bank-notes might be withdrawn,

twenty-five millions of new notes were created, on the security of the

revenues of the city of Paris, at two-and-a-half per cent. The bank-notes

withdrawn were publicly burned in front of the Hôtel de Ville. The new

notes were principally of the value of ten livres each; and on the 10th of

June the bank was re-opened, with a sufficiency of silver coin to give in

change for them.

[Illustration: D'AGUESSEAU.]

These measures were productive of considerable advantage. All the

population of Paris hastened to the bank to get coin for their small

notes; and silver becoming scarce, they were paid in copper. Very few

complained that this was too heavy, although poor fellows might be

continually seen toiling and sweating along the streets, laden with more

than they could comfortably carry, in the shape of change for fifty

livres. The crowds around the bank were so great, that hardly a day passed

that some one was not pressed to death. On the 9th of July, the multitude

was so dense and clamorous that the guards stationed at the entrance of

the Mazarin Gardens closed the gate and refused to admit any more. The

crowd became incensed, and flung stones through the railings upon the

soldiers. The latter, incensed in their turn, threatened to fire upon the

people. At that instant one of them was hit by a stone, and, taking up

his piece, he fired into the crowd. One man fell dead immediately, and

another was severely wounded. It was every instant expected that a general

attack would have been commenced upon the bank; but the gates of the

Mazarin Gardens being opened to the crowd, who saw a whole troop of

soldiers, with their bayonets fixed ready to receive them, they contented

themselves by giving vent to their indignation in groans and hisses.

Eight days afterwards the concourse of people was so tremendous that

fifteen persons were squeezed to death at the doors of the bank. The

people were so indignant that they took three of the bodies on stretchers

before them, and proceeded, to the number of seven or eight thousand, to

the gardens of the Palais Royal, that they might shew the regent the

misfortunes that he and Law had brought upon the country. Law's coachman,

who was sitting at the box of his master's carriage, in the court-yard of

the palace, happened to have more zeal than discretion, and, not liking

that the mob should abuse his master, he said, loud enough to be overheard

by several persons, that they were all blackguards, and deserved to be

hanged. The mob immediately set upon him, and thinking that Law was in the

carriage, broke it to pieces. The imprudent coachman narrowly escaped with

his life. No further mischief was done; a body of troops making their

appearance, the crowd quietly dispersed, after an assurance had been given

by the regent that the three bodies they had brought to shew him should be

decently buried at his own expense. The parliament was sitting at the time

of this uproar, and the president took upon himself to go out and see what

was the matter. On his return he informed the councillors that Law's

carriage had been broken by the mob. All the members rose simultaneously,

and expressed their joy by a loud shout, while one man, more zealous in

his hatred than the rest, exclaimed, "_And Law himself, is_ he _torn to

pieces?_"[13]

[13] The Duchess of Orleans gives a different version of this

story; but whichever be the true one, the manifestation of

such feeling in a legislative assembly was not very

creditable. She says that the president was so transported

with joy, that he was seized with a rhyming fit, and,

returning into the hall, exclaimed to the members:

"_Messieurs! Messieurs! bonne nouvelle!

Le carrosse de Lass est reduit en cannelle!_"

Much, undoubtedly, depended on the credit of the Company of the Indies,

which was answerable for so great a sum to the nation. It was therefore

suggested in the council of the ministry, that any privileges which could

be granted to enable it to fulfil its engagements, would be productive of

the best results. With this end in view, it was proposed that the

exclusive privilege of all maritime commerce should be secured to it, and

an edict to that effect was published. But it was unfortunately forgotten

that by such a measure all the merchants of the country would be ruined.

The idea of such an immense privilege was generally scouted by the nation,

and petition on petition was presented to the parliament that they would

refuse to register the decree. They refused accordingly, and the regent,

remarking that they did nothing but fan the flame of sedition, exiled them

to Blois. At the intercession of D'Aguesseau, the place of banishment was

changed to Pontoise, and thither accordingly the councillors repaired,

determined to set the regent at defiance. They made every arrangement for

rendering their temporary exile as agreeable as possible. The president

gave the most elegant suppers, to which he invited all the gayest and

wittiest company of Paris. Every night there was a concert and ball for

the ladies. The usually grave and solemn judges and councillors joined in

cards and other diversions, leading for several weeks a life of the most

extravagant pleasure, for no other purpose than to shew the regent of how

little consequence they deemed their banishment, and that, when they

willed it, they could make Pontoise a pleasanter residence than Paris.

Of all the nations in the world the French are the most renowned for

singing over their grievances. Of that country it has been remarked with

some truth, that its whole history may be traced in its songs. When Law,

by the utter failure of his best-laid plans, rendered himself obnoxious,

satire of course seized hold upon him; and while caricatures of his person

appeared in all the shops, the streets resounded with songs, in which

neither he nor the regent was spared. Many of these songs were far from

decent; and one of them in particular counselled the application of all

his notes to the most ignoble use to which paper can be applied. But the

following, preserved in the letters of the Duchess of Orleans, was the

best and the most popular, and was to be heard for months in all the

_carrefours_ in Paris. The application of the chorus is happy enough:

Aussitôt que Lass arriva

Dans notre bonne ville,

Monsieur le Régent publia

Que Lass serait utile

Pour rétablir la nation.

_La faridondaine! la faridondon!_

Mais il nous a tous enrichi,

_Biribi!_

_A la façon de Barbari,_

_Mon ami!_

Ce parpaillot, pour attirer

Tout l'argent de la France,

Songea d'abord à s'assurer

De notre confiance.

Il fit son abjuration,

_La faridondaine! la faridondon!_

Mais le fourbe s'est converti,

_Biribi!_

_A la façon de Barbari,_

_Mon ami!_

Lass, le fils aîné de Satan

Nous met tous à l'aumône,

Il nous a pris tout notre argent

Et n'en rend à personne.

Mais le Régent, humain et bon,

_La faridondaine! la faridondon!_

Nous rendra ce qu'on nous a pris,

_Biribi!_

_A la façon de Barbari,_

_Mon ami!_

The following epigram is of the same date:

_Lundi_, j'achetai des actions;

_Mardi_, je gagnai des millions;

_Mercredi_, j'arrangeai mon ménage,

_Jeudi_, je pris un équipage,

_Vendredi_, je m'en fus au bal,

_Et Samedi_, à l'hôpital.

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