house, he made his way to a nearby tavern and sent a challenge to Roxburghe to meet him at Leith, a popular spot for duels.
With Baillie as his second, Roxburghe talked himself out of confinement, responded to Fletcher’s challenge, and rushed to Leith at six in the evening. Before the two men could draw swords, Baillie intervened. The fight would not be fair, he said. His lordship had “a great weakness in his right leg so that he could hardly stand, ’twas not to be expected that this quarrel could be decided by the sword.” Fletcher had foreseen such an objection, produced a pair of pistols, and offered them to Roxburghe to take his choice. Baillie again objected that his lordship’s weakness would “equally disable him from firing on foot.” Meanwhile, in the distance a party of mounted constabulary was spotted—both men were still supposed to be under arrest. The seconds immediately fired their pistols in the air and everyone returned to Edinburgh.
The ludicrous quarrel did nothing to help Law. His scheme, though interesting enough for William Greg secretly to dispatch a copy south to his superiors (London was already watching the progress of John Law), was damningly rejected for being “too chimerical to be put in practice.” And while the wranglings dragged on, union drew ever closer. Law, reluctant to leave his homeland and still optimistic of securing a royal pardon, again lodged an appeal for clemency. His petition reiterated his intention to work for “the ease and honour of the government and the good and prosperity of his country.” Again he was turned down.
Exile was now the only way to avoid imprisonment. As Katherine made preparations to depart, Law passed his final days on Scottish soil at the gaming tables. Among his recorded successes was an estate worth £1,200 (US$1,800) won from Sir Andrew Ramsay, “one of the finest Gentlemen of his time,” who after his encounter with Law had only £100 (US$160) left.
The earliest known likeness of John Law, a miniature in the Earl of Derby’s collection, dates from around this time. The image shows a dreamy young man in a short wig with Madonna-like oval face, heavy-lidded eyes, long hawkish broken nose, and generous mouth. His expression of poker-faced calm calls to mind his contemporary du Hautchamp’s description of him playing cards, “a serene temper without transport [that] made him master of himself when fortune ran against or for him, so he generally came a gainer, seldom a considerable loser.” Perhaps Law gave the miniature to his mother on his departure. He was never to see her again; she died two years later. For the time being, however, such sorrow was far from his thoughts. Finding some way of putting his schemes into action was now his overriding aim; his resolve had never been greater.
7
T HE R OOT OF A LL E VIL
In his travels he learnt that in Betica everything shone with gold, which made him hurry to get there. He was made very unwelcome by Saturn, who was then on the throne, but once the god had departed from the earth he had an idea, and went out to every street-corner where he continually shouted in a hoarse voice: “Citizens of Betica, you think yourselves rich because you have silver and gold. Your delusion is pitiable. Take my advice: leave the land of worthless metal and enter the realms of imaginations, and I promise you such riches that you will be astonished.”
Montesquieu,
Persian Letters
(1721)
L ATE IN 1705, L AW AND HIS FAMILY RETURNED TO A continent riven by conflict. The War of the Spanish Succession pitched the armies of France and Spain against an alliance of England, Holland, and the Holy Roman Empire. A year earlier, at the Battle of Blenheim, the English general Sir John Churchill, later Duke of Marlborough, had vanquished the French, killing, wounding, and imprisoning almost three-quarters of their army, some forty thousand men. That year the British captured Gibraltar and allowed their ships to
1796-1874 Agnes Strickland, 1794-1875 Elizabeth Strickland, Rosalie Kaufman