JOHN LAW

Greymouth Evening Star, 14 May 1929, Page 6

JOHN LAW

THE MISSISSIPPI SYSTEM

On March 21, 200 years ago, John Law died in poverty in Venice. Now death, as it has frequently been observed, cbmes to all, and that John Law should die was no wonder; but that he should die poor was indeed one of Death’s little ironies; for this same John Law, a few years before, had controlled-the fortunes of France, made footmen into financiers, and turned the credit of Europe topsy-turvy. John Law, the son of a goldsmith, was born in Edinburgh in 1671. At an early age he showed an aptitude for both elegance and mathematics. “Jessamy John” and “Beau Law” they called him as he grew older. Gambling and gallantry were the pursuits of his first manhood; and gallantry it was nearly ended his career before it was begun; for having quarrelled with the notorious Beau Wilson over a certain Mrs Lawrence, he fought him in a duel, killed him, and was on April 20, 1694, condemned to death foi’ his murder. But fortune —and perhaps a little bribery—favoured the gallant. After being first pardoned, then detained again, “Captain John Lawe, a Scotchman, lately a prisoner in the King’s Bench for murther, aged 26, a very tall, black, lean man, well shaped, above six foot high, large pockholes in his face, big high nosed, speaks broad and loud, made his escape from the said prison.” The description was, perhaps intentionally, inaccurate; and Captain Law was not apprehended.

After a few years abroad Law produced some remarkable financial schemes; but they were not received with enthusiasm in England. It was in Paris that he found his audience. His charm of manner brought him into high society. He made friends with the Regent, the Duke of Orleans. The Duke listened, and was impressed with Law’s plans for the rehabilitation of a France ruined by the expensive war of Louis XIV. Soon the young Scot found himself a Counsellor of State, and after one or two minor financial ventures he came out into the open with his so-called Mississippi System. The story of the scheme is too well known to need repetition. Behind it all, of course, stood the pale wraith of paper credit.’ As in the case of our own South Sea Bubble, the country lost its head. People fought for shares in the company for which Law was responsible. The stockjobbers and brokers in the Place Vendome made so much noise that the Chancellor in his Court could not hear the cases. Law’s coachman made so much money that he retired and himself hired a coachman. With millions in paper money about, everybody got richer and nobody poorer; and Law, creator of all this wealth, and, soon, Comptroller General of Finances, bestrode Paris like a Colossus. Ladies had their coaches overturned in the hope that the great man might come to their help. The aristocracy waited in his ante-chamber while he wrote to his gardener in Scotland about planting cabbages. Perhaps his head was a little turned; there are tales which seem to suggest it. But, however that may be, the inflation of currency could not go on for ever. The crash came suddenly. Confusion was confounded; Law’s life Was in danger; he was held responsible not only for the financial debacle, but also for the plague at Marseilles. Finally, the Regent—who,, with the rest, had turned against him —allowed him to leave the country. He travelled, subsequently, extensively and a little aimlessly in Europe. He was, so they said, still scheming when he found his last home in Venice; and ' perhaps he was still scheming when, in 1729, death came to find him, a lean and indigent victim.—London “Sunday Times.” ’•