There were also the annuity companies which were unsafe, because they were unsound in principles, and of which Dr. Price said that they cared little about it; and that in addition to these there were likewise fraudulent companies established by fraudulent men; let the following sketch bear witness.
Among those who misemployed their capacity in the formation of bubble annuity societies, was one David Cunningham, whose career, so far as it can be gathered, is a strange illustration of perverted powers. Born in the shire of Inverness, of which his father was a native, bred a presbyterian, with the confined if respectable notions of the class, and meant “to wag his pow” in a pulpit, from whence in due time he is even said to have held forth; Cunningham might have been respectable and respected, had not his zeal for proselytism with a fair daughter of his flock carried him beyond the borders of propriety. Like Adam Blair he sinned, but unlike Adam Blair he repented not, and suddenly disappearing from his native place, he left the victim of his passion to repent her misdeed, and his parents to bear the agony of an only son’s shame. As a boy he had been remarkable for acuteness and ability, had at an early period devoted himself to arithmetical studies, and, indebted to the pedlar—then the only communication between town and country—for some odd books which treated of the science of mathematics, had studied them to so much purpose that if the money had been spent on his secular which was spent on his spiritual education, he would probably have been a great mathematician and possibly a good man. Possessed of a fine person and specious address, nothing is known of him until twenty years afterwards, when he appeared in London with a tolerable supply of money, and more than a proportionate supply of audacity. Here he commenced the vocation of schoolmaster. At this time the preaching of Whitfield and Wesley was a passion. Parties of titled people were made up to hear them exhort and used up ladies of rank experienced new sensations when Wesley expounded the religion they had neglected, and Whitfield described the tortures they would endure. Among the votaries of the new apostle, who, with the restlessness of genius soon aspired to lead where hitherto he had followed, was David Cunningham.
He still kept on his school and made use of his gifts in prayer, which were very remarkable, to procure introductions to the better class of London society, among whom he moved with an air of pious humility, alike distinguished for his toadying and his teaching. These he used as levers for the artful design of forming an annuity company—next to religion, annuity companies being the fashion—to be founded on a new principle for indigent persons and widows. This principle was, that it should be partly self-supporting and partly philanthropic, and that annuities bought by the poor should be aided by the charitable contributions of the rich.
Cunningham was rather late in the market, for the volume of Dr. Price, which dispersed the assurance bubbles, was on the point of publication as he made his announcement; but the Scot was a crafty man, and his prospectus breathed benevolence, not personal benefit; it talked of charity and forgot allusion to per centages. Others might weary themselves in striving to establish a purely self-supporting institution, Cunningham struck into a new path. He showed that of the existing companies some did not ask enough, and some demanded too much. Other societies were often carried on in taverns; his fastidious taste revolted from the idea. The whole mind of this scheming man was bent upon betraying the public, and he determined to establish an Imperial Annuity and Charitable Pension Society, the terms of which should be lower than all others, while any awkward questions as to its responsibilities should be checked by pointing to a long list of patrons, against whose names should be placed large sums as donations and subscriptions. Directors were not more difficult to procure then than now, but Cunningham chose to be his own manager, and to represent his own board. Persons of rank were as proud of seeing their names to a charity as at the present day, and so plausible and persevering was the Scotchman that he soon procured duchesses and peeresses to herald his speculation.
He was shrewd enough to vary his premiums to the position of the applicant. He would take less than the established rates under cover of a charitable institution; and the poor brought their money to him because they could buy a larger annuity with less cash than anywhere else. He tempted the general public with low rates of premium as he pointed to the character of a board which never met. He would sell a life annuity for whatever he could get, as he never refused an offer; and, with a list of patrons like that which he paraded at the head of his advertisements, it was almost impossible to doubt the solidity of the company. His speculation answered. He had a large office; he employed a considerable number of dependants; and the money which he gained easily he spent freely. More customers came to his office than to any other’s; for while the poor sought him with their savings, the rich advised with him as to investment. He was consulted by widows, and made the trustee of orphans. No one inveighed against mammon with more solemn sanctity, and no one received money with a more demure aspect. He gave great parties; he contrived to connect his name with a certain class of the aristocracy; he dabbled in literature, and, like an enthusiast of the present day, who is said to tell those who connect themselves with his office that neither they nor their children, nor their children’s children, can ever know want, he succeeded in impressing on the public a conviction of his worth.
The remarkable character of this man enabled him to play many parts. In his office, and with the Hallifaxes, the Dents, the Glyns, and the Ladbrokes of the time, he was the close, cool, methodical man of business. Punctual to his time, his lightest word his bond, and ready with his payments; he was respected in the City. Connected, as it has been seen, with the sect of Whitfield, he seemed a reverent, devout attender on the rites of religion. Though he gave up preaching when he had attained his object, he yet retained a prominent position in the chapel where he once held forth. But it was afterwards whispered by those who knew him well, that he had another and less worthy character. That some one marvellously like him was seen in places which sectarians hold in horror; that when with persons he could trust, his orgies were as wild as the worst of a wild time; and close observers might have added that the sweet smile and the unctuous bearing were but the cloak to cover his real designs, had not his purse and his reputation disposed them to be short-sighted.
The game he meant to play is uncertain, as his career was cut short by the publication of the work of Dr. Price, on reversionary payments, which had drawn notice to these societies generally. Some were discovered to be false and hollow; others merely founded in ignorance. Attention became naturally pointed to their framers. Questions were asked as to the promoter of the last new company, which were more easily asked than answered. Cunningham took the alarm, withdrew his cash in gold from the bankers, told his subordinates to continue the business until he returned, and left an address for his correspondence.
From that time he was heard of no more, and the only conjecture that could be made, was from the intelligence that a vessel trading to Ireland had been wrecked, and that one of the bodies was that of a gentleman supposed to be David Cunningham, the founder of the Imperial Annuity and Charitable Pension Society.
The misery caused to all whom this man had wronged was great; but it is impossible to teach wisdom, and recent annals have shown us that the world, in this respect, has not grown wiser as it has grown older.