King John adopted the notable plan of imprisoning the mistresses of the priests, confident that the money he could not obtain from their cupidity he would from their lust. Henry III. seized the merchandise of his subjects, and borrowed a large sum besides, for which he paid a high interest, and which the Parliament refused to discharge. Edward I. seized the money and plate of monasteries and churches, feigned a voyage to the Holy Land, and, when funds were collected to aid him, kept the money, and refused to go. Edward III. erected monopolies, exacted loans, levied arbitrary fines, imposed arbitrary taxes, and, notwithstanding the determined remonstrances of the Commons, claimed the right of doing so at pleasure.
Richard II. pawned the jewels of the crown, sold the furniture of the palace, went from place to place in the fashion of one soliciting alms, and was deposed partially because he extorted large sums which he never repaid. The reign of Henry V., brilliant as it was, would have proved yet more so, had an authorized mode of raising supplies been then organized. Although he took from all quarters, sold his jewels, and borrowed on the security of his crown, he was often compelled to stop in a career of the most splendid success for lack of money. Edward IV. was called the handsomest tax-gatherer in his kingdom; and when he kissed a widow because she gave more than he expected, it is said she doubled the amount, in expectation of a second kiss. Henry VII. adopted all modes and methods; and, having levied a benevolence, made a large claim on those who lived frugally, because they must have saved by their frugality; while, if they lived splendidly, they were dealt with as opulent. It must, however, be recorded of this monarch, that he lent money, without interest, to many merchants whose capital was not sufficient for their commercial operations. When the eighth Henry attempted to raise a forced loan of unusual amount, with unusual rigor, the people said, if they were treated thus, “England was bond, and not free.” The county of Suffolk rose in arms; and had not even this man’s stubborn spirit quailed before it, the resistance would have changed into rebellion. No sooner had the monarch exhausted all Parliamentary supplies, than he carried out, on a grand scale, the robberies he had often achieved on a small one, by seizing the accumulated property of the monastic classes. In 1522, he required a general loan of ten per cent. upon all property from £20 to £300, and a higher rate on larger sums. By courtesy, it was termed a loan; but when, seven years afterwards, a subservient Parliament acquitted him of all obligation to pay it, a harsher name was recorded in the minds, than the tongues of the people dared to express.
To the English sovereign a certain power over commerce had always been intrusted; but Elizabeth stretched her prerogative, and granted monopolies by scores. Prices rose enormously, and the evil was felt by every family in the realm. The House of Commons remonstrated. When a long list of patents for monopolies was read, one sturdy member demanded, “Is not bread there?” “Bread!” quoth one. “Bread!” cried another. “Yea, bread!” said Mr. Hackwell; “for, if care be not taken, bread will be there before next Parliament.” Nor was this all: the coach of the chief minister was surrounded by the populace; menacing murmurs were heard cursing patents; and indignant voices declared that the old liberties of England should not be encroached on by new prerogatives. With admirable sagacity, the queen saw the necessity of yielding, and did it while she could with grace and dignity. But this sovereign improved upon the plans of her predecessors,—she kept the temporalities of bishoprics in her own hands for years, and appropriated the landed property of sees. Under the name of New Year’s gifts, she extorted large sums from the frequenters of the court; she ordered companies to lend her money,—to borrow, if they did not possess it,—and, if she had more than she required, she would return part, provided they would pay her interest for that on which she paid them nothing. To the citizen of the nineteenth century this must appear a fable; but it is a recorded fact, that Elizabeth borrowed money from the citizens, found she had more than she required, and, instead of repaying it, re-lent it to them at seven per cent. on the security of gold and silver plate.
Charles I. seized the money of his merchants; and his bonds were hawked about the streets, were offered to the people as they left church, and sold to the highest bidder. The Commonwealth were debtors, on the security of the forfeited estates. Charles II. took money from France, shut up the Exchequer, borrowed from his friends, and did any thing rather than run the risk of being again sent on his travels. Thus, it would seem, the exchequer of the earlier monarchs was in the pockets of the people; that of Henry VIII. in the suppressed monasteries; Elizabeth in the corporations; and Charles II. wherever he could find it.
The abdication of James II. and the arrival of William III. form an era in the history of the monetary world. The plans adopted by the latter to crush the power of France, and raise the credit of England, were the commencement of that great accumulation known as the National Debt, and the origin, though remote, of that building celebrated throughout Europe as the Stock Exchange. The rapid sketch now presented of the mode in which money was supplied confirms the remark of Mr. Macaulay, that “there can be no greater error than to imagine the device of meeting the exigencies of the state by loans was imported into our island by William III. From a period of immemorial antiquity, it had been the practice of every English government to contract debts. What the Revolution introduced was the practice of honestly paying them.”
The earliest instance of that fatal love of speculation, so ruinous to the character and credit of all who possess it, occurred in 1634; and the history of the tulip mania in Holland is as instructive as that of any similar period. In the above year, the chief cities of the Netherlands engaged in a traffic which destroyed commerce and encouraged gambling; which enlisted the greediness of the rich and the desire of the poor; which raised the value of a flower to more than its weight in gold; and which ended, as all such periods have ended, in wild and wretched despair. The many were ruined, the few were enriched; and tulips were as eagerly sought in 1634, as railway scrip in 1844. The speculation was conducted on similar principles. Bargains were made for the delivery of certain roots; and when, as in one case, there were but two in the market, lordship and land, horses and oxen, were sold to pay the deficiency. Contracts were made, and thousands of florins paid, for tulips which were never seen by broker, by buyer, or by seller. For a time, as usual, all won, and no one lost. Poor persons became wealthy. High and low traded in flowers; sumptuous entertainments confirmed their bargains; notaries grew rich; and even the unimaginative Hollander fancied he saw a sure and certain prosperity before him. People of all professions turned their property into cash; houses and furniture were offered at ruinous prices; the idea spread throughout the country that the passion for tulips would last for ever; and when it was known that foreigners were seized with the fever, it was believed that the wealth of the world would concentrate on the shores of the Zuyder Zee, and that poverty would become a tradition in Holland. That they were honest in their belief is proved by the prices they paid; and the following list shows that the mania must indeed have been deep, when goods to the value of 2,500 florins were given for one root:—
| Florins. | Florins. | ||||
| 2 | Lasts of wheat | 448 | 4 | Tons of beer | 32 |
| 4 | Lasts of rye | 558 | 4 | Tons of butter | 192 |
| 4 | Oxen | 480 | 1000 | Pounds of cheese | 120 |
| 3 | Swine | 240 | 1 | Bed | 100 |
| 12 | Sheep | 120 | 1 | Suit of clothes | 80 |
| 2 | Hogsheads of wine | 70 | 1 | Silver beaker | 60 |
Another species commonly fetched two thousand florins; a third was valued at a new carriage, two gray horses, and a complete harness. Twelve acres of land were paid for a fourth; and 60,000 florins were made by one man in a few weeks. But the panic came at last. Confidence vanished; contracts were void; defaulters were announced in every town of Holland; dreams of wealth were dissipated; and they who, a week before, rejoiced in the possession of a few tulips which would have realized a princely fortune, looked sad and stupefied on the miserable bulbs before them, valueless in themselves, and unsalable at any price. To parry the blow, the tulip-merchants held public meetings, and made pompous speeches, in which they proved that their goods were worth as much as ever, and that a panic was absurd and unjust. The speeches produced great applause, but the bulb continued valueless; and, though actions for breach of contract were threatened, the law refused to take cognizance of gambling transactions. Even the wisdom of the Deliberative Council at the Hague was at fault, and to find a remedy was beyond the power of the government. Many years passed before the country recovered from the shock, or commerce revived from the depression which followed the Tulipomania; and which, not confined exclusively to Holland, visited London and Paris, and gave a fictitious importance to the tulip in the two greatest capitals of the world.