CHAPTER V.
In our last interview you saw me firmly and proudly established in my new home in Threadneedle[1]-street.
By this move I became a parishioner of St. Christopher le Stocks, whose church and burial-ground were quite close to my new house.
It was but a small parish of ninety-two houses at the time of my entering it.
The church was old, for mention is made of it as early as 1368. I cannot give you many particulars about it except that it was rebuilt or renovated in 1462, and that it was slightly injured by the Great Fire in 1666.
It had a certain sort of melancholy interest for me, for it was the burial-place of many who had been my early friends, among others, the Houblon family.
The living, which was in the gift of the bishops of London, was worth only £120 per annum; not a very rich one, you will say.
To save returning to the subject of this parish again, I will tell you now how it is that at the present moment you see neither church nor churchyard, neither parish nor parishioner of St. Christopher le Stocks.
The increase in my duties and the variety of work put upon me, rendered the size of my house wholly insufficient for the purpose, therefore, from time to time, as opportunity offered, I purchased houses in the parish, power to do so being granted me by Acts of Parliament, and so rapidly were my purchases made that in fifty years from the time of my settling in Threadneedle-street, I owned the whole parish of St. Christopher le Stocks, save and except seven houses on the west side of Princes-street and the church and burial ground. And of the rates and taxes of the parish I paid five-sixths of the whole.
Even with this extension of room I could not get on, and an Act was passed vesting the glebe land and parsonage belonging to the rector of the parish in the governor and directors of the Bank of England.
Nor was this all; I wish it were. The riot of 1780, which I will tell you about a little later, suggested that the church might prove a dangerous fortress for rioters in case of any attack made on my cellars, and after long consultations I and my directors entered into an agreement with the patrons and rector, with the sanction of Government of course, that the church and churchyard should be ours.
On this site, therefore, the west wing of my residence is built, upon a plan designed by Sir Robert Taylor.
I am glad to get over this point in my story, for the demolition of the church caused such pain to those who had friends and relatives buried there, that I would not witness it again for any consideration.
Even at this distance of time, when I look out from my parlour on to the churchyard, which is now full of flowers, and is, in fact, my garden, my conscience is troubled, and I should have been happier if a building devoted to God’s service had not been destroyed to increase my domain.
It is a painful subject with me, and so I am sure you will excuse my referring to it when the years come under review in which they took place.
Should any of you wish to see memorials of the Church of St. Christopher, you will find one or two in St. Margaret’s, Lothbury, with which parish that of St. Christopher’s was united. They consist of two flat figures placed in niches on either side of the altar, and a metal bust inscribed to Petrus le Maire, 1631, which stands at the west end of the church.
And now to go on with my story.
You may not be aware of it, but I have several children of various ages, each with distinct characteristics and purposes, and if you are ever to gain any advantage through your introduction to me it must be by means of one or more of these.
They differ from other people’s children in many respects, and yet I would not have them other than they are.
They bear a high character throughout the world, and are, I may say, blindly trusted, for those who place implicit confidence in them know little or nothing of their daily life and character, which are known thoroughly only by their own circle, and would, I think, be puzzled to give a reason for their trust.
They speak a language peculiarly their own, a language which not one in a thousand of their admirers can understand, yet it is one which, with a little attention, might be taught in our public schools with as much ease as French or Latin, and would richly repay the trouble of learning.
The remark of a man known as Captain Cuttle illustrates the want of education I refer to. He says, “I feel bound to read quotations of the funds every day, though I am unable to make out on any principle of navigation what the figures mean, and could very well dispense with the fractions.”
An equal ignorance is observable in reference to their servants or bodyguard. A comparatively small number of people know anything of their office and its duties, and it has become the fashion to speak of them with contempt, but I think most unreasonably.
I am no friend to ignorance, and will endeavour, while telling you my story, to throw some light upon these points. If I remember rightly, this will be in accordance with your wish conveyed to me in your introduction.
I do not think it would be easy to find a family whose health is such a matter of public solicitation and anxiety as mine. At rapid intervals during the day their pulse is felt, their temperature tested, the figures registered and posted up to public gaze. No sooner do they meet the eye of the anxious crowd than telegraphs and telephones are set to work to carry the announcement far and wide, and according to the knowledge possessed of these figures fortunes are made and fortunes are lost.
They are, as a rule, healthy children, but unfortunately they are dreadfully sensitive, rushing up madly to high spirits on the slightest of good news, and sinking into a state of depression at the very suggestion of a war or even a change of government. I have known even after-dinner speeches at the Mansion House and Guildhall affect them. Unless the state of their feelings were registered you would almost doubt the possibility of trusted creatures being so uncertain in their disposition.
I know that this morbid sensibility is as bad for my children as for those of any other parent, for do I not see advantage taken of it every day?
When their pulses run up to fever height in the morning there is no knowing how low their purses may be before night, for everyone who has studied their language and understands the state of their health by its means takes the opportunity of coming to them for money. The livelong day the plea is for money, which is never refused while my children have a penny.
Of course I am bound to acknowledge that there is another side to the picture, viz., that whenever through bad news they become so low and depressed that you think it impossible they can rally, help comes, and in a way you would not expect.
People no sooner read the bulletin, “Very low to-day,” than they empty their purses, collect their savings, write cheques for their balance at the bankers, and come and lay all at the feet of my children. It is a strange world, and I have a strange family, but so it is.
You might suppose they were my step-children, as they do not bear the family name of Bank or Banks, but you would be wrong in your supposition. They are my very own, their name of Stocks or Funds having been assumed to denote the exact part they play in the world.
You will please to bear in mind that Stocks or Funds are nothing more nor less than debts which the nation owes to the people whose names stand in my books. By doing this much will be clear to you which otherwise would be difficult of comprehension.
We have all experienced that a personal introduction is much more effective than writing, and therefore, without loss of time, permit me to introduce you to my eldest born, Three per Cents. Consols.
Three per Cents. was born in Grocers’ Hall in 1731, and was a baby in arms when I moved into Threadneedle-street.
The circumstances attending her birth were simple. The king, as usual, wanted money, and I managed to obtain it for him by means of a lottery. The money so obtained and lent received the name of Three per Cent. Stocks, by which name it was called until 1752, when, by consent of Parliament, my child was united to a balance of annuities granted by George I., or rather, I should say, consolidated with the annuities, and henceforth was known to the world as Three per Cent. Consols.
Of this child I could say much. She has never given me uneasiness; on the contrary, she is one of the steadiest and most reliable of my children. She is less liable to high flights and deep depression, and it is in her favour I think that old people, widows and orphans, prefer her to the rest of my family.
The next Stock, or, as she is called, Government Stock, to whom I would introduce you, is Three per Cent. Reduced, a curious name, and one which might lead you to think of her as poorer than her sisters—as, in fact, reduced in circumstances. She derived her name in this wise. Originally she was a fund or stock lent to the Government upon condition that those who contributed to it should receive four per cent. for their money, and up to the year 1750 was known as Four per Cent. Government Stock; but circumstances which I need not go into here reduced the interest to three and a half per cent. in that year, at which it remained until 1757, when it was again reduced to three per cent., and henceforth known in society as Three per Cent. Reduced.
A thorough acquaintance with these two members of my family, the way to approach them, to deal with them, and to profit by them, will enable you to understand the whole family of Stocks, and this will save me time and protect you from an old woman’s prosing about her children. All this I hope to do when next we meet. Till then adieu.
(To be continued.)