Inflation is a terrible thing.
Less than two hundred years ago, it was possible to buy land rights in a tropical country for 3 shillings and 3 pence per acre – at a time when the average weekly wage in Britain was roughly one pound.
The land in question was in “a very anglophilic region, with already existing infrastructure, untapped gold and silver mines and large amounts of fertile soil ready to be settled.”
Six acres for a week’s wage! What an offer! Naturally, it was very popular. Investors snapped up these ‘land rights’ (presumably without a thought for the rights of the indigenous people).

Poyais Loan Certificate
Soon a ship was chartered to take eager new settlers from Britain. Their destination sounded like paradise. Why, it was “even free of tropical diseases!”
The first vessel to sail contained a large chest stacked full of the local currency. Many emigrants converted all their pounds before leaving, taking advantage of an excellent rate of exchange. Passengers “included doctors, lawyers and a banker who had been promised appropriate positions”. Some bought commissions in the army of their future homeland.
Another ship with more than twice the number of passengers left England six months afterwards. Five more were dispatched later.
Yet despite all this enthusiasm, the country in question – the Principality of Poyais – did not actually exist.

Gregor MacGregor
Gregor MacGregor, the self-styled ‘Cazique of Poyais’ who’d been responsible for the story, was a conman.
When would-be settlers arrived in ‘Poyais’, they found “an untouched jungle, some natives and couple of American hermits who had made their homes there”
Only eighty passengers from the first two ships made it back to England alive. When they arrived home, London’s City papers published their harrowing narrative. The truth was out!
The tale of the Poyais Scam is a ripping yarn of the first order. If you’re not familiar with it, here’s an amusing account. Not only does it tell you what happened next (widespread disbelief and denial, escape, arrest, acquittal and multiple repetitions). You even get the chance to purchase your very own Bond Certificate as a memento.
Here’s the offer:
“Bond Certificate from the State and Government of Poyais dated in 1823. This historic document was printed by Whiting Priting Company and has an ornate border around it with a vignette of a Crest flanked by unicorns. This item has the signatures of the Company’s Officials including William John Richardson and is over 185 years old. Excellent condition. Includes 58 unused coupons.”

Poyais Bond Certificate - still for sale!
Unfortunately the price of this attractive piece of paper has shot up since the good old days. It now costs $395, at a 20% discount!
Although this hoax began in 1820 and was exposed late in 1823, it did not stop then.
By 1826, after trying to defraud the French with rather less success, Mr McGregor was back in London, where he:
“claimed that (non-existent) natives had elected him as the head of state and became just “Cacigue of the Republic of Poyais” and opened a new office at 23 Threadneedle Street in the City, without any diplomatic trappings and in much a smaller scale than before. He issued a loan worth £800.000 as 20-year bonds with Thomas Jenkins & Company as brokers. The scheme was announced in the summer 1827.”
“In 1831 MacGregor promoted a “Poyaisian New Three per cent Consolidated Stock” as “the President of the Poyaisian Republic”. In 1834 he was living in Scotland and had to issue a new series of land certificates as payment for unredeemed securities. In 1836 he wrote a new constitution for the Poyaisian Republic. The last record of any Poyais scheme is in 1837, when he tried to sell some land certificates.”
It’s fun to read old stories like this, because it helps remind us how much humanity has evolved since the pre-Victorian era.
No-one would ever be so gullible these days, would we?
No, this is not just an amusing tale! It was hardly amusing for the very large number of men, women, and children who lost everything they possessed including their lives, who died of starvation, fever, and dysentery, and are buried either in the sand of the barren shore on which they were landed, or in Yarborough Cemetery at Belize City, where the survivors were taken. The townspeople nursed them tenderly, but the parish register of St. John’s, which I’m transcribing for my second volume of early Belize records, shows that most of McGregor’s victims were too ill to survive, and were buried within days or weeks of their rescue.
A very amusing tale? Oh no!
Sonia Bennett Murray
Sonia Bennett Murray