How the Danglars Fortune Disappears in The Count of Monte Cristo

I’m back on my Count of Monte Cristo rants! This time, an analysis of how the banker Danglars went from one of the most powerful bankers in 19th century France to almost totally bankrupt. He lost several millions and would have been totally penniless had the Count not taken pity on him. This act of pity leaves Danglars alone in a foreign country with fifty thousand francs – a small percentage of the Danglars fortune he once possessed. A fortune lost in less than six months after the Count of Monte Cristo first stepped foot in Paris.

How does a savvy, ruthless banker like that lose it all in less than half a year? Answer: when someone shows up with more money, more brains, and the unshakeable belief God Himself sent him to ruin your life.

Count of Monte Cristo Background

I gave a brief overview of the novel in another article, so take a gander at that and come on back here. We know there are three men in Paris that the Count will enact total, all-encompassing, and supposedly-divinely-ordained VENGEANCE against. Two of the three men – Villefort and Fernand – had sins in their past so great that the Count could use their coming to light to lead them to ruin.

But Danglars was craftier than that. It’s heavily implied Danglars has profited off many a person going bankrupt, but none of these people make themselves known to the Count nor are known by him. That slimy rodent of a Frenchman bolted his closet so securely that the Count can’t find a way to break in and discover the skeletons. Danglars is much like the billionaires of today who pay to have a squeaky-clean image. If the Count wants Danglars to severely suffer, then the Count must find a different way to do so.

And that way is by stripping Danglars of the one thing most precious to him: his fortune. And the best way to do that is to get close to him.

The Beginning

The Count of Monte Cristo gets an introduction to high society by the son of one of the most respected noblemen. And not just any son, but the son of the one guy Danglars has known the longest going back decades. The son of the man whose hotheadedness allowed Danglars to enact the original evil against the Count in 1815, then known as Edmond Dantes. When the Count shows up in front of Danglars at the office in 1838, Danglars only has that much context to go on. Well, that, and a letter recommending the Count from Italian bankers. This foreign nobleman that Fernand’s son befriended doesn’t remind him at all of the nineteen-year-old Dantes from so long ago.

The Count asks Danglars to open an unlimited line of credit for  million, which Danglars balks at. The Count proves he is good for that much by showing Danglars he regularly carries a million in cash with him as pocket change. In addition, he has several letters of recommendation to other banking houses and will go elsewhere if necessary. Danglars is dazzled into compromising with a line of credit for six million and, therefore, a working relationship.

The Idea

The Count of Monte Cristo may or may not get the idea of draining Danglars piecemeal from a conversation with Albert de Morcerf and Lucien Debray in Chapter 54. Albert declares he’d teach Baroness Danglars to be humble by feeding her fake news about the stock market; her losing, say, six figures would do the trick:

“I would reform her; it would be rendering a service to her future son-in-law.” 

“How would you set about it?”

“Ah, that would be easy enough—I would give her a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“Yes. Your position as secretary to the minister renders your authority great on the subject of political news; you never open your mouth but the stockbrokers immediately stenograph your words. Cause her to lose a hundred thousand francs, and that would teach her prudence.”

[…] Monte Cristo, although apparently indifferent, had not lost one word of this conversation…

I say “may or may not” as it’s clear to me this exchange is more foreshadowing for us readers at home. The Count just spent most of the last decade meticulously planning this; of course he’s already got this all mapped out and just waiting to deploy it.

The Setup

Of course, Baroness Danglars is smart enough to have separate finances from her husband. This doesn’t mean their investments influence each other, though. The Count of Monte Cristo will use her in his plans for vengeance, too.

The Count didn’t just snatch all those millions from Danglars in one fell swoop. He leeched it away, little by little. That way, Danglars could feel more pain and panic with each subsequent loss. My leech metaphor is nicer than the metaphor the Count uses.

“[Y]ou would never risk your principal, which is to the speculator what the skin is to civilized man. We have our clothes, some more splendid than others,—this is our credit; but when a man dies he has only his skin [...] to follow out my simile, your skin has been opened by bleeding, and this if repeated three or four times will cause death—so pay attention to it, my dear Monsieur Danglars. Do you want money? Do you wish me to lend you some?” 

“What a bad calculator you are!” exclaimed Danglars, calling to his assistance all his philosophy and dissimulation. “I have made money at the same time by speculations which have succeeded. I have made up the loss of blood by nutrition. I lost a battle in Spain, I have been defeated in Trieste, but my naval army in India will have taken some galleons, and my Mexican pioneers will have discovered some mine.” 

“Very good, very good! But the wound remains and will reopen at the first loss.”

Outright murder may not be on the ballot for the Count, but he sure does consider it with longing.

The Execution

The Count hears of a “Jacopo Manfredi” – who shares the same first name as the Count’s first friend out of prison – who had banked with Danglars starting several years ago. Jacopo disappears with zero warning, leaving Danglars with a million francs of debt. Then, Danglars loses 700,000 francs in the stock market when the Count pays the telegraph man to share fake news affecting Spanish bonds:

“So that,” said Monte Cristo, “you have lost nearly 1,700,000 francs this month.” 

“Not nearly, indeed; that is exactly my loss.” 

“Diable!” said Monte Cristo compassionately, “it is a hard blow for a third-rate fortune.”

The Count susses out that Danglars has a fortune of fifteen million francs, and observes that “six more such months as this would be to reduce the third-rate house to despair[…] have you ever thought that seven times 1,700,000 francs make nearly twelve millions? […] Well, out of the five or six millions which form your real capital, you have just lost nearly two millions, which must, of course, in the same degree diminish your credit and fictitious fortune”.

Danglars airily declares that the only way he’ll be ruined is if three different governments suddenly fall to chaos.

Well, the Count is one to take a declaration like that as a challenge.

And he doesn’t take that challenge lightly.

Soon after, he smugly tells Danglars that German bankers the baron has lent 200,000 to are now kaput, meaning he’s out that amount.

Soon after that, “Madame Danglars was boasting to Monte Cristo of her husband’s strength of mind, who that very morning had lost three or four hundred thousand francs by a failure at Milan.”

And Danglars just keeps on losing. Finally, he is left with only the money he had already promised to charity for widows and orphans. It’s as good as in their hands, and there is no way his reputation will survive if people find out he TOOK MONEY FROM ORPHANS. How much was meant for said charity? 5.5 million.

Remember how the Count of Monte Cristo has a credit line to Danglars for 6 million? He’s only taken 900,000 of that and, wouldn’t you know it, he’s suddenly ready to spend ALL the rest. He visits Danglars and insists on receiving the 5.1 million he is owed from his credit line. Danglars, to avoid word getting out he’s broke, pays him from the funds earmarked for charity. The charity collector is the next bank visitor; Danglars tells them to come back tomorrow for it. When tomorrow rolls around, Danglars is nowhere to be found. He flees the country with fifty thousand francs and a passport that expires in two months.

Danglars prides himself on always being the smartest person in the room. This is nothing more than unchallenged arrogance until the Count showed up. Danglars thus gets played by someone smarter than he is as the inevitable result.

How Danglars Could Have Avoided His Fate

Today, millions of people similarly lose their money to all kinds of bad investments and bad actors. Do not ever invest or send someone money you’re not prepared to lose forever. If there’s an investment with any more risk than an index fund, do NOT put up so much money that it hurts you if it loses. Check out r/wallstreetbets if you need countless real-life examples of such losses to convince yourself.

No matter how convinced you are of the value of this cryptocurrency, or that meme stock, or some other alternative investment, you better play it absolutely safe regardless. Remember: the value of something is judged by however much the market deems it valuable. And the market can stay irrational longer than you, dear investor, can stay solvent.

More Advice for Danglars, Specifically:

Care more about your wife. Let your lesbian daughter have more say in her own marriage prospects. At the very least, don’t steal the only money in the house and flee the country solo. You’ll leave yourself vulnerable to brigands and other ne’er-do-wells. If you can’t resist stealing from your family, leaving nothing left? Then for the love of all that is holy, do not steal millions from a foreign banking company associated with a mysteriously powerful man you’ve known for a very short time. All that does is trigger the final part of his plan to imprison you in a dank cell to slowly starve to death like an old man once did in Marseilles.

Oh, and make sure to invoke the name of God more now than you did in the last ten years. Only that powerful man’s belief in the divine can possibly save you now.

Cover image credit: Theo Bickel via Unsplash
Other image credit: illustration via Project Gutenberg