[10] Mr. Salomons attributed the difficulties which followed his death to the sudden withdrawal of the dexterity with which he managed the exchanges, as Mr. Rothschild prided himself on distributing his immense resources, so that no operation of his should abstract long the bullion from the Bank.
[11] For a Memoir of Rothschild, see the Bankers’ Magazine, Vol. II. p. 473, et seq.
CHAPTER XVII.
Legends of the Stock Exchange.—Mr. Dunbar.—Duke of Newcastle.—French Ambassador.—James Bolland.—Extraordinary Incident.—Fortunate Adventure.—Morals and Manners of the Stock Exchange.—Its Constitution and Arrangements.
The early part of the present chapter is devoted to anecdotes, which, though difficult to prove, yet bear in themselves every appearance of reality. Many legends are thus in the debatable ground between truth and fiction; and those which are selected are chosen from their resemblance to fact, rather than from the actual knowledge of their veracity.
In 1761, Mr. Dunbar, a West-Indian merchant, finding his affairs were less prosperous than usual, sought “the Alley,” as it was then termed, to retrieve his failing fortunes. From some private information, he believed that he had good grounds for supposing a peace would soon be effected, and that the funds would rise. He therefore ordered his broker to buy £100,000 for the account; told him the opinion he had formed, with the intelligence on which it was based; and the latter, in violation of his oath, jobbed extensively on his own account as well as for his client. February passed away without the expected peace, and Mr. Dunbar paid the difference. Confident in his views, he continued the operation; but each account-day proved that the price had been against him, and with great difficulty did he find money to pay the amounts due. In July, unable to pay cash, he gave notes of hand to the broker, who agreed to receive them. No objection being made, the account was continued on for August. In that month the prospect of peace revived, the funds rose, and Mr. Dunbar, seeing a chance of paying the greater part of his losses, went with all speed to ’Change Alley. His distress may be imagined, when he was coolly told, that, since he had given notes of hand, no account had been opened, and no advantage could be reaped from the rise in price. The act of Sir John Barnard rendered any appeal to law useless; but, as Mr. Dunbar became a bankrupt, the members of the Stock Exchange subscribed to pay the amount claimed, in order that so flagrant a case might not become public.
One of the loans raised by the Duke of Newcastle, when prime minister, fell, from some unforeseen accident, to three per cent. discount. His Grace, thinking he had made an unfair bargain, or fearing the jobbers would not lend to him again, convened a meeting of those who had taken it, who, as well as the Duke, were greatly frightened, not knowing what project to adopt. At length one of them—said to be Samson Gideon—desired the minister to walk with him into another room. There they remained for a few minutes, and then returned in high spirits, telling the others to go home and be perfectly easy, as care should be taken of their interest. Gideon went immediately to ’Change Alley, and, buying up the scrip as fast as it was offered, produced an immediate rise to one per cent. above par.
Gambling in the funds has not been confined to commoners; and the French ambassador at the Court of London was guilty of a deception which marks the name of the Count de Guise with infamy. Availing himself of his political position, he traded in English securities, and, by the aid of his secretaries, made large sums. While success attended the ambassador’s operations, he received the profit, and rejoiced in his good fortune; but when a long run of bad luck dissipated his gains, and made demands upon his purse, his Excellency denied all knowledge of the transaction, refused to pay the balance, retired to France, and commenced a prosecution against his subordinates. But this was not sufficient to exonerate him with thinking people. A memorial was published by his secretaries; and the evidence they gave satisfied every impartial mind that the ambassador of the Most Christian King had abused his trust, duped his dependents, and defrauded the stock-broker.
About the middle of the eighteenth century, one of the constant dealers in ’Change Alley, although in a small way, was James Bolland; a man of low extraction, but of great mind, of immense impudence, and unrivalled crime. There was nothing at which he would hesitate to obtain money, to spend on the Stock Exchange; and, having once commenced, he soon found that the legitimate profits of his trade—that of a butcher—were not sufficient to support him. He formed, therefore, a wooden weight, which, resembling one of fifty pounds, weighed only seven pounds; and, in his capacity of tradesman to St. Thomas’s Hospital, employed his roguery with great success.