"If one man deserves credit for both the brilliance and the horrors of modern finance it is Alexander Hamilton, the first Treasury secretary of the United States. In financial terms the young country was a blank canvas: in 1790, just 14 years after the Declaration of Independence, it had five banks and few insurers. Hamilton wanted a state-of-the-art financial set-up, like that of Britain or Holland. That meant a federal debt that would pull together individual states’ IOUs. America’s new bonds would be traded in open markets, allowing the government to borrow cheaply. And America would also need a central bank, the First Bank of the United States (BUS), which would be publicly owned.
This new bank was an exciting investment opportunity. Of the $10m in BUS shares, $8m were made available to the public. The initial auction, in July 1791, went well and was oversubscribed within an hour. This was great news for Hamilton, because the two pillars of his system—the bank and the debt—had been designed to support each other. To get hold of a $400 BUS share, investors had to buy a $25 share certificate or “scrip”, and pay three-quarters of the remainder not in cash, but with federal bonds. The plan therefore stoked demand for government debt, while also furnishing the bank with a healthy wedge of safe assets. It was seen as a great deal: scrip prices shot up from $25 to reach more than $300 in August 1791. The bank opened that December.
William
This new bank was an exciting investment opportunity. Of the $10m in BUS shares, $8m were made available to the public. The initial auction, in July 1791, went well and was oversubscribed within an hour. This was great news for Hamilton, because the two pillars of his system—the bank and the debt—had been designed to support each other. To get hold of a $400 BUS share, investors had to buy a $25 share certificate or “scrip”, and pay three-quarters of the remainder not in cash, but with federal bonds. The plan therefore stoked demand for government debt, while also furnishing the bank with a healthy wedge of safe assets. It was seen as a great deal: scrip prices shot up from $25 to reach more than $300 in August 1791. The bank opened that December.
Two things put Hamilton’s plan at risk. The first was an old friend gone bad, William Duer. The scheming old Etonian was the first Englishman to be blamed for an American financial crisis, but would not be the last. Duer and his accomplices knew that investors needed federal bonds to pay for their BUS shares, so they tried to corner the market. To fund this scheme Duer borrowed from wealthy friends and, by issuing personal IOUs, from the public. He also embezzled from companies he ran.
The other problem was the bank itself. On the day it opened it dwarfed the nation’s other lenders. Already massive, it then ballooned, making almost $2.7m in new loans in its first two months. Awash with credit, the residents of Philadelphia and New York were gripped by speculative fever. Markets for short sales and futures contracts sprang up. As many as 20. carriages a week raced between the two cities to exploit opportunities for arbitrage.
Meet the villain
William
Duer
Born in Devon and educated at Eton, William Duer moved to America as a young man and made a fortune selling supplies to the army. Scams funded his expensive lifestyle: he once sold half the land in Ohio, even though he did not own it. He conned so many people that by the time he ended up in jail, it was said to be the safest place for him.
The jitters began in March 1792. The BUS began to run low on the hard currency that backed its paper notes. It cut the supply of credit almost as quickly as it had expanded it, with loans down by 25% between the end of January and March. As credit tightened, Duer and his cabal, who often took on new debts in order to repay old ones, started to feel the pinch.
Rumours of Duer’s troubles, combined with the tightening of credit by the BUS, sent America’s markets into sharp descent. Prices of government debt, BUS shares and the stocks of the handful of other traded companies plunged by almost 25% in two weeks. By March 23rd Duer was in prison. But that did not stop the contagion, and firms started to fail. As the pain spread, so did the anger. A mob of angry investors pounded the New York jail where Duer was being held with stones.
Hamilton knew what was at stake. A student of financial history, he was aware that France’s crash in 1720 had hobbled its financial system for years. And he knew Thomas Jefferson was waiting in the wings to dismantle all he had built. His response, as described in a 2007 paper by Richard Sylla of New York University, was America’s first bank bail-out. Hamilton attacked on many fronts: he used public money to buy federal bonds and pep up their prices, helping protect the bank and speculators who had bought at inflated prices. He funnelled cash to troubled lenders. And he ensured that banks with collateral could borrow as much as they wanted, at a penalty rate of 7% (then the usury ceiling).
Even as the medicine was taking effect, arguments about how to prevent future slumps had started. Everyone agreed that finance had become too frothy. Seeking to protect naive amateurs from risky investments, lawmakers sought outright bans, with rules passed in New York in April 1792 outlawing public futures trading. In response to this aggressive regulation a group of 24 traders met on Wall Street—under a Buttonwood tree, the story goes—to set up their own private trading club. That group was the precursor of the New York Stock Exchange.
Hamilton’s bail-out worked brilliantly. With confidence restored, finance flowered. Within half a century New York was a financial superpower: the number of banks and markets shot up, as did GDP. But the rescue had done something else too. By bailing out the banking system, Hamilton had set a precedent. Subsequent crises caused the financial system to become steadily more reliant on state support.
Source: The Economist
