Yet most people could not hide their excitement. Though none of them had ever set foot on that mysterious, unknown continent, the British Government had already painted a sufficiently enticing prospect.
Without question, the African continent would be an undiscovered treasure trove, a giant waiting to be awakened by money. At this time of economic hardship, it was a heaven-sent opportunity for those holding vast fortunes.
After all, the British Government had promised chartered concessions—meaning they could occupy a monopoly position and shut out competition. So long as enough resources could be extracted, the profits would be limitless.
"Gentlemen, to Africa! Endless wealth awaits you there!"
"Pity there's no wine, or I'd truly like to drink a toast with you all!"
The Rothschild family and the Baring family both appeared utterly confident, and even the unease of the others eased considerably.
Before long, the banquet jointly hosted by several financial giants and the British Government began. Prime Minister George Hamilton-Gordon attended in person and once again reiterated the call to go to Africa.
With endorsements from prominent figures in society as well, many came to believe that this was not some rash speculation, but a great and glorious voyage of expansion.
Even those who had previously been pessimistic about the African Chartered Company's prospects gradually came to feel that the risks were controllable and the profits limitless.
As for those who still did not look favorably upon the African Chartered Company, they were deemed timid, weak, and lacking in responsibility.
Even so, economists still stepped forward to say that the British Government was shifting its risks onto others, calling on investors not to hand over their chips so easily.
A prolonged debate broke out in British newspapers over this, and even some economists from the European continent joined in.
Yet