Millionaire - Janet Gleeson [41]
Letter from John Law to the regent,
December 1715
LAW SAVED HIMSELF BY STALLING. HE TOLD THE MEN HE would need twenty-four hours to raise such an unusually large sum and appealed to the finance ministry for support. Law’s influence with the regent still irked Noailles, the finance minister, but the bank’s success had relieved the pressure on his ministry, and, although he must have hated to admit it, he knew it was in his interest as much as Law’s that the bank should be sustained. Thus, when Law outlined his predicament, Noailles ordered the mint to provide Law with the coins he required. One can scarcely imagine the incredulity of the men returning the next day, expecting to find the bank in disarray; instead piles of coins were counted out before them. When they departed, along with their swollen bags of silver and gold, they took with them the unwelcome news that John Law had unequivocally trounced them.
While the bank inched precariously toward success, however, Law was looking over his shoulder for more daring ventures. Two years after the bank had opened, an opportunity to reveal his wider talents arose, unexpectedly, in the form of a diamond. The jewel came from India, where, according to Saint-Simon, an employee at the Great Mogul’s diamond mines smuggled out a 140-carat stone in his rectum. It was usual at the time for anyone dealing with precious stones to be closely searched and given a purgative before they were allowed to leave their place of employment, but somehow the man evaded the usual checks and escaped with his jewel. Eventually, after changing hands several times, it was sold for the substantial sum of £20,000 (US$32,000) to Thomas Pitt, governor of the English East India Company’s Fort Madras settlement, immortalized ever after as Diamond Pitt. A stone of such prodigious size had never before been seen, and Pitt, in high hopes that his purchase would prove a canny investment, sent it back to London for cutting. The jewel that emerged was “the size of a Reine Claude plum, almost round in shape, of a thickness equal to its width, perfectly white, free from all blemish, cloud, or speck,” enthused Saint-Simon. Naturally Pitt was anxious to recoup his considerable outlay as quickly as possible, but he found that in times of war and climates of financial uncertainty, diamonds on such a scale are no one’s friend. Even the quintessentially self-indulgent Louis XIV, when offered the stone the year before he died, refused it. In 1717, as Law was casting about for ways to impress the regent, Pitt came back to Paris with his diamond, which was still for sale. He called on Law and showed him a crystal replica of the jewel that “eclipsed all others in Europe.” At this pivotal moment in his career, the gem encapsulated Law’s personal and patriotic aspirations. If he could bring about its royal acquisition, he would endorse his own influence at court as well as highlighting the regent’s preeminence in Europe. He encouraged Orléans to buy.
Orléans saw it differently; though tempted, he was terrified. To make such an acquisition while widespread hardship continued would court controversy and criticism. But to Law, as to most men of his age, scruples were a selective luxury. Idealism could be put on hold when necessary, and ambition now demanded a different rationale. With the help of Saint-Simon, he argued persuasively that the “greatest king in Europe” should not apply the same rules as everyone else