The unexpected Legacy—Bernard Blackmantle and Bob Transit
visit Capel Court—Characters in the Stocks—Bulls, Bears
and Bawds, Brokers, Jews and Jobbers—A new Acquaintance,
Peter Principal—His Account of the Market—The Royal
Exchange—Tricks upon Travellers—Slating a Stranger—The
Hebrew Star and his Satellites—Dividend Hunters and
Paragraph Writers—The New Bubble Companies—Project
Extraordinary—Prospectus in Rhyme of the Life, Death,
Burial, and Resurrection Company—Lingual Localisms of the
Stock Exchange explained—The Art and Mystery of Jobbing
exposed—Anecdotes of the House and its Members—Flying a
Tile—Billy Wright's Brown Pony—Selling a Twister—A Peep
into Botany Bay—Flats and Flat-catchers—The Rotunda and
the Transfer Men—How to work the Telegraph—Create a Rise—
Put on the Pot—Bang down the Market—And waddle out a Lame
Duck.
A bequest of five hundred pounds by codicil from a rich old aunt had most unexpectedly fallen to my friend Transit, who, quite unprepared for such an overwhelming increase of good fortune, was pondering on the best means of applying this sudden acquisition of capital, when I accidentally paid him a visit in Half-moon Street. "Give me joy, Bernard," said Bob; "here's a windfall;" thrusting the official notice into my hand; "five hundred pounds from an old female miser, who during her lifetime was never known to dispense five farthings for any generous or charitable purpose; but being about to slip her wind and make a wind-up of her accounts, was kind enough to remember at parting that she had a poor relation, an artist, to whom such a sum might prove serviceable, so just hooked me on to the tail end of her testamentary document and booked me this legacy, before she booked herself inside for the other world. And now, my dear Bernard," continued Bob, "you are a man of the world, one who knows
'What's what, and that's as high
As metaphysic wit can fly.'
I am puzzled, actually bewildered what to do with this accumulation of wealth: only consider an eccentric artist with five hundred pounds in his pocket; why it must prove his death-warrant, unless immediate measures are taken to free him from its magical influence. Shall I embark it in some of the new speculations? the Milk company, or the Water company, the Flesh, Fish, or Fowl companies, railways or tunnel-ways, or in short, only put me in the right way, for, at present, I am mightily abroad in that respect." "Then my advice is, that you keep your money at home, or in other words, fund it; unless you wish to be made fun of and laughed at for a milksop, or a bubble merchant, or be taken for one of the Gudgeon family, or a chicken butcher, a member of the Poultry company, where fowl dealing is considered all fair; or become a liveryman of the worshipful company of minors (i.e. miners), where you may be fleeced à la Hayne, by legs, lawyers, bankers and brokers, demireps and contractors'; or, perhaps, you will feel disposed to embark in a new company, of which I have just strung together a prospectus in rhyme: a speculation which has, at least, much of novelty in this country to recommend it, and equally interests all orders of society.
1 It is not surprising, we see, that lawyers, bankers, and
brokers are found at the bottom of most of the new schemes.
Their profits are certain, whatever the fate of the Gudgeon
family. The brokers, in particular, have a fine harvest of
it. Their charges being upon the full nominal amount of the
shares sold, they get twice as much by transferring a single
100L. share in a speculation, although only 1L. may have
been paid on it, as by the purchase or sale of 100L.
consols, of which the price is 94L. Or, to make the matter
plainer to the uninitiated, suppose an individual wishes to
lay out 500L. in the stock-market. If he orders his broker
to purchase into the British funds, the latter will buy him
about 535L. three per cent, consols; and the
brokerage, at one-eighth per cent, will be about 13s. But
if the same person desires to invest the same sum in the
stock of a new Mine or Rail-road company, which is divided
into 100L. shares, on each of which say 1L. is paid, and
there is a premium of 1L. (as is the case at this moment
with a stock we have in our eye) his broker's account will
then stand thus:—
Bought 250 shares in the —— Company.
First instalment of 1L. paid £250 0 0
Premium L. per share 250 0 0
500 0 0
Brokerage £ per cent, on 25,000L. stock 62 10 0
562 10 0
Which will leave Mr. Adventurer to pay 62L. 10s. to his
broker, and to pay 99L. more on each of his 250 shares, when
the———company "call" for it!
Or, let us reverso the case, and suppose our speculator,
having been an original subscriber for 100 shares in the
—— company, and having consequently obtained them for
nothing, wishes to sell, finding them at a premium of 6s.
per share, and either fearing they may go lower, or not
being able to pay even the first instalment called for by
the directors. If he is an humble tradesman, he is perhaps
eager to realise a profit obtained without labour, and hugs
him-self at the idea of the hundred crowns and the hundred
shillings he shall put into his pocket by this pleasant
process. Away he posts to Cornhill, searches out a broker,
into whose hands he puts the letter entitling him to the 100
shares, with directions to sell at the current premium. The
broker takes a turn round 'Change, finds a customer, and the
whole affair is settled in a twinkling, by an entry or two
in the broker's memorandum-book, and the drawing of a couple
of cheques. Our fortunate speculator, who is anxiously
waiting at Batson's the return of his man of business, and
spending perhaps 3s. 6d. in bad negus and tough sandwiches,
on the strength of his good luck, is then presented with a
draft on a banker for 5L. neatly folded up in a small slip
of foolscap, containing the following satisfactory
particulars:—
Sold 100 shares in the———company—nothing paid—prem. 6s. £30
Brokerage, 1/4 per cent, on 10,000L. stock 25
By cheque 5
He stares wildly at this document, utterly speechless, for
five minutes, during which the broker, after saying he shall
be happy to "do" for him another time, throws a card on the
table, and exit. The lucky speculator wanders into 'Change
with the account in his hand, and appeals to several Jews to
know whether he has not been cheated: some abuse him for the
insinuation against so "respectable" a man as Mr.——- the
broker; others laugh in his face; and all together hustle
him into the street. He goes home richer by 4L.. 16s. 6d.
than when he went out, and finds that a wealthy customer,
having called three times in his absence to give him a
particular order, had just left the shop in a rage, swearing
he would no longer encourage so inattentive a tradesman.—
Examiner.
THE LIFE, DEATH, BURIAL, AND RESURRECTION COMPANY.
CAPITAL.—ONE HUNDRED MILLIONS SHARES.—ONE POUND.
In this age of projectors, when bubbles are spread
With illusive attractions to bother each head,
When bulls, bears, jews, and jobbers all quit Capelcourt
To become speculators and join in the sport,
Who can wonder, when interest with intellect clashes,
We should have a new club to dispose of our ashes;
To rob death of its terrors, and make it delightful
To give up your breath, and abolish the frightful
Old custom of lying defunct in your shroud,
Surrounded by relatives sobbing aloud?
We've a scheme that shall mingle the "grave with the gay,"
And make it quite pleasant to die, when you may.
First, then, we propose with the graces of art,
Like our Parisian friends, to make ev'ry tomb smart;
And, by changing the feelings of funeral terrors,
Remove what remain'd of old Catholic errors.
Our plan is to blend in the picturesque style
Smirke, Soane, Nash, and Wyatville all in one pile.
So novel, agreeable, and grateful our scheme,
That death will appear like a sweet summer's dream;
And the horrid idea of a gloomy, cold cell,
Will vanish like vapours of mist from a dell.
Thus changed, who'll object a kind friend to inhume,
When his sepulchre's made like a gay drawing-room 1
A diversified, soothing commixture of trees,
Umbrageous and fann'd by the perfumed breeze;
With alcoves, and bowers, and fish-ponds, and shrubs,
Select, as in life, from intrusion of scrubs;
While o'er your last relics the violet-turf press
Must a flattering promise afford of success.
"Lie light on him, earth," sung a poet of old;
Our earth shall be sifted, and never grow cold;
No rude weight on your chest—how like ye our scheme {1}
Where your grave will be warm'd by a process of steam,
Which will boil all the worms and the grubs in their holes,
And preserve from decay ev'ry part but your souls.
Our cemetery, centred in fancy's domain,
Shall by a state edict eternal remain
To all parties open, the living or dead;
Or christian, or atheist, here rest their head,
In a picturesque garden, and deep shady grove,
Where young love smiles, and fashion delighteth to rove.
To render the visitors' comforts complete,
And afford the grieved mourners a proper retreat,
The directors intend to erect an hotel,
Where a table d'hôte will be furnished well;
Not with the "cold meats of a funeral feast,"
But a banquet that's worthy a nabob at least;
Of lachryma christi, and fine vin de grave,
And cordial compounds, a choice you may have.
Twice a week 'tis proposed to illumine the scene,
And to waltz and quadrille on the velvety green;
While Colinet's band and the Opera Corps
Play and dance with a spirit that's quite con amore,
A committee of taste will superintend
The designs and inscriptions to each latter end.