Millionaire - Janet Gleeson [96]
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O’er the far times, when many a subject land
Look’d to the winged Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!
Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,
canto the fourth
LAW ALWAYS RELISHED PLAYING THE MAN OF MYSTERY. Relieved to have a distraction from his problems in France, he threw himself into the subterfuge with typical enthusiasm. He arrived, as planned, in the German resort of Aix-la-Chapelle in early September to await orders. Aix-la-Chapelle—or Aachen, as it was also known—was one of Europe’s most famous spas, where the fashionable congregated to take the sulfur waters, socialize, and happily for Law, to gamble. He made no attempt to conceal his identity, and visitors to the chic watering hole were enchanted to meet and quiz the international celebrity—little suspecting that while they were trying to extract snippets about his system he was pumping them for political insights. The elector of Cologne and Prince Theodore, his brother, were passing through incognito when they heard Law was in town and immediately sent word to his lodging inviting him to wait on them. Law was still in bed when his valet informed him that the elector desired to see him, but conscious of his duties as a secret agent, he dressed hastily and rushed to pay his respects, then reported the encounter back to Whitehall.
A month later he was still waiting for instructions, and the suspicion that his assistance was not quite as crucial to the British authorities as he had presumed was beginning to grow. To jolt them into action he dispatched a sharp reminder that his fame in Europe was undimmed and offered entrée to the highest circles. “The work I did in France and the confidence that the Duc d’Orléans had in me excites curiosity. I see that in Vienna ministers and even the Emperor wanted to speak to me on the business that passed between my hands.” Although to English eyes the imperial court at Vienna was of particular interest—Austria had recently broken her alliance with England and France and forged new ties with Spain—Law was much too high-profile and contentious a figure to be trusted to dabble in such delicate matters. Eventually he was given the far less crucial job of visiting Munich to try to persuade the elector of Bavaria to break with Vienna and favor the English alliance.
Leaving Aix-la-Chapelle in early December, he broke the journey in Augsburg, where he had arranged for letters from France to be sent. Again, mindful of his new position, he took every opportunity to mingle in political circles. The ambassador of Savoy to France, Monsieur de Courtance, was in town and eager to talk. Law made diligent use of the opportunity at hand: “I made him see that the Alliance of Spain and Portugal won’t be a great help to the Emperor; that his British Majesty was today the only maritime power, who could put more vessels to sea than all the other powers combined, that Spain and Portugal risk much with regards America if they enter into war with England.” Like everyone else in Europe, Courtance was hungry to find the secret of Law’s moneymaking. Law hated to be viewed as a failed conjuror, but could rarely resist an opportunity to hold forth on his pet subject. Discussions such as these meant he could justify his actions—probably to himself as much as to those listening—and gave him a sounding board for new ideas. He held forth on the subject of luxury and told Courtance that luxury was not to be feared—unless it creates a trade deficit. So long as industry and output expand, a country will prosper.
On New Year’s Day, Law’s party left Augsburg for the short journey to Munich and the court of Elector Maximilian Emmanuel of Bavaria. Munich was generally thought to be one of the most pleasant of German courts. “The splendour and beauty of its buildings both public and private . . . surpasses anything in Germany,” wrote one eighteenth-century tourist. And as an added attraction, the