CHAPTER XIX

Promoters and Projectors—Government loans—Commencement of Bank of England—Character of a Stock Jobber—Jonathan’s—Hoax temp. Anne—South Sea Bubble—Poems thereon.

We are apt to think that company promoters and commercial speculation are things of modern growth, but Projectors and Patentees (company promoters and monopolists) were common in the early seventeenth century; and we find an excellent exposition of their ways and commodities in a poetical broadside by John Taylor, the Water poet, published in 1641. It is entitled The complaint of M. Tenter-hooke the Proiector, and Sir Thomas Dodger, the Patentee. Under the title is a wood-cut, which represents a Projector, who has a pig’s head and ass’s ears, screws for legs, and fish hooks for fingers, bears a measure of coal, and a barrel of wine, on his legs respectively, tobacco, pipes, dice, roll tobacco, playing cards, and a bundle of hay slung to his body, papers of pins on his right arm, and a measure for spirits on his left arm, a barrel and a dredger on the skirts of his coat. With his fish hook fingers, he drags bags of money. This is Tenter-hooke, who is saying to his friend Sir Thomas Dodger, who is represented as a very well dressed gentleman of the period:

“I have brought money to fill your chest,
For which I am curst by most and least.”

To which Sir Thomas replies:

“Our many yeares scraping is lost at a clap,
All thou hast gotten by others’ mishap.”
If any aske, what things these Monsters be
‘Tis a Projector and a Patentee
: Such, as like Vermine o’re this Lande did crawle,
And grew so rich, they gain’d the Devill and all.

Loe, I, that lately was a Man of Fashion,
The Bug-beare and the Scarcrow of this Nation,
Th’ admired mighty Mounte-banke of Fame,
The Juggling Hocus Pocus of good name;
The Bull-begger who did affright and feare,
And rake, and pull, teare, pill, pole, shave and sheare,
Now Time hath pluck’d the Vizard from my face,
I am the onely Image of disgrace.
My ugly shape I hid so cunningly,
(Close cover’d with the cloake of honesty),
That from the East to West, from South to North,
I was a man esteem’d of ex’lent worth.
And (Sweet Sir Thomas Dodger,) for your sake,
My studious time I spent, my sleepes I brake;
My braines I tost with many a strange vagary.
And, (like a Spaniell) did both fetch and carry
To you, such Projects, as I could invent,
Not thinking there would come a Parliament.
I was the great Projector, and from me,
Your Worship learn’d to be a Patentee;
I had the Art to cheat the Common-weale,
And you had tricks and slights to passe the Seale.
I took the paines, I travell’d, search’d and sought,
Which (by your power) were into Patents wrought.
What was I but your Journey man, I pray,
To bring youre worke to you, both night and day:
I found Stuffe, and you brought it so about,
You (like a skilfull Taylor) cut it out,
And fashion’d it, but now (to our displeasure)
You fail’d exceedingly in taking measure.
My legs were Screws, to raise thee high or low,
According as your power did Ebbe or Flow;
And at your will I was Screw’d up too high,
That tott’ring, I have broke my necke thereby.
For you, I made my Fingers fish-hookes still
To catch at all Trades, either good, or ill,
I car’d not much who lost, so we might get,
For all was Fish that came into the Net.
For you, (as in my Picture plaine appeares)
I put a Swine’s face on, an Asses eares,
The one to listen unto all I heard,
Wherein your Worship’s profit was prefer’d,
The other to tast all things, good or bad,
(As Hogs will doe) where profit may be had.
Soape, Starch, Tobacco, Pipes, Pens, Butter, Haye,
Wine, Coales, Cards, Dice, and all came in my way
I brought your Worship, every day and houre,
And hope to be defended by your power.

Sir Thomas Dodgers’ Answer.

Alas good Tenter-hooke, I tell thee plaine,
To seeke for helpe of me ‘tis but in vaine:
My Patent, which I stood upon of late,
Is like an Almanacke that’s out of Date.
‘T had force and vertue once, strange things to doe,
But, now, it wants both force and vertue too.
This was the turne of whirling Fortune’s wheele,
When we least dream’d we should her changing feele.
Then Time, and fortune, both with joynt consent,
Brought us to ruine by a Parliament;
I doe confesse thou broughtst me sweet conceits,
Which, now, I find, were but alluring baits,
And I, (too much an Asse) did lend mine eare
To credit all thou saydst, as well as heare.
Thou in the Project of the Soape didst toyle,
But ‘twas so slippery, and too full of oyle,
That people wondered how we held it fast
But now it is quite slipp’d from us at last.
The Project for the Starch thy wit found out,
Was stiffe a while, now, limber as a Clout,
The Pagan weed (Tobacco) was our hope,
In Leafe, Pricke, Role, Ball, Pudding, Pipe, or Rope.
Brasseele, Varina, Meavis, Trinidado,
Saint Christophers, Virginia, or Barvado;
Bermudas, Providentia, Shallowcongo,
And the most part of all the rest (Mundungo[58])
That Patent, with a whiffe, is spent and broke,
And all our hopes (in fumo) turn’d to smoake,
Thou framdst the Butter Patent in thy braines,
(A Rope and Butter take thee for thy paines).
I had forgot Tobacco Pipes, which are
Now like to thou and I, but brittle ware.
Dice run against us, we at Cards are crost,
We both are turn’d up Noddies,[59] and all’s lost.
Thus from Sice-sinke, we’r sunke below Dewce-ace,
And both of us are Impes of blacke disgrace.
Pins pricke us, and Wine frets our very hearts,
That we have rais’d the price of Pints and Quarts.
Thou (in mine eares) thy lyes and tales didst foyst,
And mad’st me up the price of Sea-coales hoyst.
Corne, Leather, Partrick, Pheasant, Rags, Gold-twist,
Thou brought’st all to my Mill; what was’t we mist?
Weights, Bon[60] lace, Mowstraps, new, new, Corporation,
Rattles, Seadans,[61] of rare invented fashion.
Silke, Tallow, Hobby-horses, Wood, Red herring,
Law, Conscience, Justice, Swearing, and For-swearing.
All these thou broughtst to me, and still I thought
That every thing was good that profit brought,
But now all’s found to be ill gotten pelfe,
I’le shift for one, doe thou shift for thyselfe.