The Humbugs of the World by P. T. Barnum (best contemporary novels .TXT) 📕

“Indeed?” remarked the scientific traveller, “thank you. Are there a good many of these admirals in your country?” and he drew forth his note book to write down the little fact.

“Death and the devil!” swore the enraged Dutchman again⁠—“come before the Syndic and you shall find out all about it!” So he collared the astounded onion-peeler, and despite all he could say, dragged him straightway before the magistrate, where his scientific zeal suffered a dreadful quencher in the shape of an affidavit that the “onion” was worth four thousand florins⁠—about $1,600⁠—and in the immediate judgment of the Court, which “considered” that the prisoner be forthwith clapt into jail until he should give security for the amount. He had to do so accordingly, and doubtless all his life retained a distaste for Dutchmen and Dutch onions.

These stories about such monstrous valuations of flower roots recall to my mind another anecdote which I shall tell, not because it has anything to do with tulips, but because it is about a Dutchman, and shows in striking contrast an equally low valuation of human life. It is this. Once, in time of peace, an English and a Dutch Admiral met at sea, each in his flag ship, and for some reason or other exchanged complimentary salutes. By accident, one of the Englishman’s guns was shotted and misdirected, and killed one of the Dutch crew. On hearing the fact the Englishman at once manned a boat and went to apologize, to inquire about the poor fellow’s family and to send them some money, provide for the funeral, etc., etc., as a kind hearted man would naturally do. But the Dutch commander, on meeting him at the quarterdeck, and learning his errand, at once put all his kindly intentions completely one side, saying in imperfect English:

“It’sh no matter, it’sh no matter⁠—dere’s blaanty more Tutchmen in Holland!”

John Bull’s great money humbug⁠—​The south sea bubble in 1720.

The “South Sea Bubble” is one of the most startling lessons which history gives us of the ease with which the most monstrous, and absurd, and wicked humbugs can be crammed down the throat of poor human nature. It ought also to be a useful warning of the folly of mere “speculation,” as compared with real “business undertakings.” The history of the South Sea Bubble has been told, before, but it is too prominent a case to be entirely passed over. It occupied a period of about eight months, from February 1, 1720, to the end of the following September. It was an unreasonable expansion of the value of the stock of the “South Sea Company.” This Company was formed in 1711; its stock was at first about $30,000,000, subscribed by the public and handed over by the corporators to Government to meet certain troublesome public debts. In return, Government guaranteed the stockholders a dividend of six percent, and gave the Company sundry permanent important duties and a monopoly of all trade to the South Pacific, or “South Sea.” This matter went on with fair success as a money enterprise, until the birth of the “Bubble,” which was as follows:⁠—In the end of January, 1720, probably in consequence of catching infection from “Law’s Mississippi Scheme” in France, the South Sea Company and the Bank of England made competing propositions to the English Government, to repeat the original South Sea Company financiering plan on a larger scale. The proposition of the Company, which was accepted by Government, was: to assume as before the whole public debt, now amounting to over one hundred and fifty millions of dollars; and to be guaranteed at first a five percent dividend, and afterward a four percent one, to thestockholders by Government. For this privilege, the Company agreed to pay outright a bonus of more than seventeen million dollars. This plan is said to have been originated and principally carried through by Sir John Blunt, one of the Company’s directors. Parliament adopted it after two months’ discussion⁠—the Bubble having, however, been swelling monstrously all the time.

It must be remembered that the wonderful profits expected from the Company were to come from their monopoly of the South Sea trade. Tremendous stories were told by Blunt and his friends, who can hardly have believed more than one half of their own talk, about a free trade with all the Spanish Pacific colonies, the importation of silver and gold from Peru and Mexico in return for dry goods, etc., etc.; all which fine things were going to produce two or three times the amount of the Company’s stock every year. When the bill authorizing the arrangement passed, South Sea stock had already reached a price of four hundred percent. The bill was stoutly opposed in Parliament by Mr.⁠—afterwards Sir⁠—Robert Walpole, and a few others but in vain. Under the operation of the beautiful stories of the speculative Blunt and his friends, South Sea stock, after a short lull in April, began to rise again, and the bubble swelled and swelled to a size so monstrous, and with colors so gay, that it filled the whole horizon of poor foolish John Bull:⁠—perfectly turned his bullheaded brain, and made him for the time absolutely crazy. The directors opened books on April 12th for £5,000,000 new stock, charging, however, £300 for each share of £100, or three hundred percent to begin with. Double the amount was subscribed in a few days; that is, John Bull subscribed thirty million dollars for ten millions of stock, where only five millions were to be had. In a few days more, these subscribers were selling at double what they paid. April 21st, a ten percent dividend was voted for midsummer. In a day or two, another five million subscription was opened at four hundred percent to begin with. The whole, and half as much more, was taken in a few hours. In the end of May, South Sea stock was