LIGHT COME, LIGHT GO
[Illustration]
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO
ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD
TORONTO
[Illustration: THE TRENTE-ET-QUARANTE OF THE PAST.
From a scarce print by Darcis.
_Frontispiece._]
LIGHT COME, LIGHT GO
GAMBLING--GAMESTERS--WAGERS
THE TURF
BY
RALPH NEVILL
"D'un bout du monde
A l'autre bout,
Le Hasard seul fait tout."
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
1909
CONTENTS
I
PAGE
The gambling spirit inborn in mankind--Its various forms in
reality identical--Resemblance of gamblers to the alchemists
of old--Capriciousness of fortune--Importance of small advantages
at play--An extraordinary run at hazard--Napoleon
and Wellington little addicted to cards--Blücher's love of
gaming--He wins his son's money--Avaricious gamesters--Anecdotes
of the miser Elwes--Long sittings at the card-table--Modern
instance in London--Two nights and a day
at whist at the Roxburgh Club--Casanova's forty-two hour
duel at piquet--Anecdotes of Fox, the Duke of Devonshire,
Sir John Lade, Beau Nash, and others--Country houses lost
at play--"Up now deuce and then a trey"--The Canterbury
barber 1
II
The spirit of play in the eighteenth century--The Duke of
Buckingham's toast--Subscription-Houses, Slaughter-Houses,
and Hells--The staff of a gaming-house--Joseph
Atkinson and Bellasis--Raids on King's Place and Grafton
Mews--Methods employed by Bow Street officers--Speculative
insurance--Increase of gaming in London owing to
arrival of _émigrés_--Gambling amongst the prisoners of war--The
Duc de Nivernois and the clergyman--Faro and E.O.--Crusade
against West-End gamblers--The Duchess of
Devonshire and "Old Nick"--Mr. Lookup--Tiger Roche--Dick
England--Sad death of Mr. Damer--Plucking a pigeon 38
III
Former popularity of dice--The race game in Paris--Description
of hazard--Jack Mytton's success at it--Anecdotes--French
hazard--Major Baggs, a celebrated gamester of the
past--Anecdotes of his career--London gaming-houses--Ways
and methods of their proprietors--Ephraim Bond and
his henchman Burge--"The Athenæum"--West-End Hells--Crockford's--Opinion
of Mr. Crockford regarding play--The
Act of 1845--Betting-houses--Nefarious tactics of their
owners--Suppression in 1853 74
IV
Craze for eccentric wagers at end of eighteenth century--Lord
Cobham's insulting freak and its results--Betting and
gaming at White's--The Arms of the Club--The old betting-book
and its quaint wagers--Tragedies of play--White's to-day--£180,000
lost at hazard at the Cocoa Tree--Brummell
as a gambler--Gaming at Brooks's--Anecdotes--General
Scott--Whist--Mr. Pratt--Wattier's Club--Scandal at
Graham's--Modern gambling clubs--The Park Club case in
1884--Dangers of private play 103
V
Talleyrand whilst at cards announces the death of the Duc
d'Enghien--"The curse of Scotland"--Wilberforce at faro--Successful
gamblers--The Rev. Caleb Colton--Colonel
Panton--Dennis O'Kelly--Richard Rigby--Anecdotes--Strange
incidents at play--Aged gamesters--A duel with
death--General Wade and the poor officer--Anecdote of a
caprice of Fortune--Stock Exchange speculation--A man
who profited by tips 137
VI
Colonel Mellish--His early life and accomplishments--His
equipage--A great gambler--£40,000 at a throw!--Posting--Mellish's
racing career--His duel--In the Peninsula--Rural
retirement and death--Colonel John Mordaunt--His
youthful freaks--An ardent card-player--Becomes aide-de-camp
to the Nawab of Oude--Anecdotes--Death from a
duel--Zoffany in India and his picture of Mordaunt's
cock-fight--Anecdotes of cock-fighting 167
VII
Prevalence of wagering in the eighteenth century--Riding a
horse backwards--Lord Orford's eccentric bet--Travelling
piquet--The building of Bagatelle--Matches against time--"Old
Q." and his chaise match--Buck Whalley's journey
to Jerusalem--Buck English--Irish sportsmen--Jumping
the wall of Hyde Park in 1792--Undressing in the water--Colonel
Thornton--A cruel wager--Walking on stilts--A
wonderful leap--Eccentric wagers--Lloyd's walking match--Squire
Osbaldiston's ride--Captain Barclay--Jim Selby's
drive--Mr. Bulpett's remarkable feats 204
VIII
Gambling in Paris--Henry IV. and Sully--Cardinal Mazarin's
love of play--Louis XIV. attempts to suppress gaming--John
Law--Anecdotes--Institution of public tables in 1775--Biribi--Gambling
during the Revolution--Fouché--The
tables of the Palais Royal--The Galeries de Bois--Account
of gaming-rooms--Passe-dix and Craps--Frascati's and the
Salon des Étrangers--Anecdotes--Public gaming ended in
Paris--Last evenings of play--Decadence of the Palais
Royal--Its restaurants--Gaming in Paris at the present day 235
IX
Public gaming in Germany--Aix-la-Chapelle--An Italian gambler--The
King of Prussia's generosity--Baden-Baden--M. de
la Charme--A dishonest croupier--Wiesbaden--An eccentric
Countess--Closing of the tables in 1873--Last scenes--Arrival
of M. Blanc at Homburg--His attempt to defeat his
own tables--Anecdotes of Garcia--His miserable end--A
Spanish gambler at Ems--Roulette at Geneva and in
Heligoland--Gambling at Ostend--Baccarat at French
watering-places--"La Faucheuse" forbidden in France 282
X
The Principality of Monaco--Its vicissitudes--Early days
of the Casino--The old Prince and his scruples--Monte
Carlo in 1858 and 1864--Its development--Fashionable in the
'eighties--Mr. Sam Lewis and Captain Carlton
Blythe--Anecdotes--Increase of visitors and present democratic
policy of administration--The _Cercle Privé_ and its short
life--The gaming-rooms and ways of their
frequenters--Anecdotes--Trente-et-quarante
and roulette--Why the cards have plain white backs--Jaggers'
successful spoliation of the bank--The croupiers and their
training--The staff of the Casino--The
_viatique_--Systems--The best of all 319
XI
Difficulty of making money on the Turf--Big
wins--Sporting tipsters and their methods--Jack
Dickinson--"Black Ascots"--Billy Pierse--Anecdotes--Lord
Glasgow--Lord George Bentinck--Lord Hastings--Heavy
betting of the past--Charles II. founder of the English
Turf--History of the latter--Anecdotes--Eclipse--Highflyer--The
founder of Tattersall's--Old time racing--Fox--Lord
Foley--Major Leeson--Councillor Lade--"Louse
Pigott"--Hambletonian and Diamond--Mrs. Thornton's
match--Beginnings of the French Turf--Lord Henry
Seymour--Longchamps--Mr. Mackenzie Grieves--Plaisanterie--Establishment
of the Pari Mutuel in 1891--How the large profits are
allocated--Conclusion 374
INDEX 437
ILLUSTRATIONS
IN COLOUR
FACE PAGE
The Trente-et-Quarante of the Past. From a scarce Print
by Darcis _Frontispiece_
The Beautiful Duchess throwing a Main. By Rowlandson 60
La Bouillotte. From a scarce Print after Bosio 138
The Chaise Match 214
The Palmy Days of the Palais Royal. From a contemporary
Print 258
A Gaming-Table in the Palais Royal 262
Véry's in 1825 276
Plan of Roulette Table, as used at Monte Carlo 348
Betting. By Rowlandson 382
IN BLACK AND WHITE
The Spendthrift. From an Eighteenth-Century Print 26
A Raid on a London Gaming-House 44
Sharpers and Bucks in a Billiard Room 68
Light Come, Light Go 80
A Row in a Fashionable Hell 86
Count d'Orsay calling a Main at Crockford's 98
The Arms of White's _p._ 107
The Gambling-Room at Brooks's. From a Water-colour
Drawing in the possession of the Club 116
The Cock-Fight at Lucknow, with Key. Engraved by
R. Earlom, after Zoffany 194
Roulette in the Eighteenth Century 284
Facsimile Title-Page of "Guide du Spéculateur au Trente-Quarante
et à la Roulette" 298
Gambling at Homburg. Drawn by the late G.A. Sala 308
E.O. on a Country Race-course. By Rowlandson 398
Mrs. Thornton 416
I
The gambling spirit inborn in mankind--Its various forms in
reality identical--Resemblance of gamblers to the alchemists of
old--Capriciousness of fortune--Importance of small advantages at
play--An extraordinary run at hazard--Napoleon and Wellington little
addicted to cards--Blücher's love of gaming--He wins his son's
money--Avaricious gamesters--Anecdotes of the miser Elwes--Long
sittings at the card-table--Modern instance in London--Two nights and
a day at whist at the Roxburgh Club--Casanova's forty-two hour duel at
piquet--Anecdotes of Fox, the Duke of Devonshire, Sir John Lade, Beau
Nash, and others--Country houses lost at play--"Up now deuce and then
a trey"--The Canterbury barber.
The passion for speculation which, throughout all ages, has captivated
the great bulk of humanity, would seem to be an innate characteristic
of mankind. It assumes various forms and guises which often deceive
those over whom it exercises its sway, and becomes in numberless cases
a veritable obsession, causing its victims to devote the whole of their
time, thoughts, and money--sometimes even their lives--to its service.
Devotees of the simpler forms of gambling, such as are to be procured
at the card-table and on the race-course, are often looked down upon by
people who are themselves under the sway of other insidious, if more
reputable, modes of tempting fortune. For all speculation, whether
it be in pigs or wheat, stocks and shares, race-horses or cards,
is in essence the same--its main feature being merely the desire to
obtain "something for nothing," or in other words to acquire wealth
without work. Gambling, of no matter what kind, is thus a conscious and
deliberate departure from the general aim of civilised society, which
is to obtain proper value for its money. The gambler, on the other
hand, receives either a great deal more than he gives or nothing at all.
All conditions of life being more or less disquieted either with the
cares of gaining or of keeping money, it is but natural that mankind
should be allured by the idea of discovering and utilising an easy
and quick road to riches. Alas, the prospect of speedy wealth, which
exercises such an irresistible fascination over certain natures, is in
the vast majority of cases nothing but a delusive mirage, as tempting
to covetous folly as the "philosopher's stone." Indeed, the votaries of
chance in a great measure resemble the alchemists of old, who were ever
seeking, but never found, a method of producing untold gold.
So convinced were these searchers of the possibility of eventually
discovering the secret of manufacturing riches, that they laughed even
at successful gamblers, deeming them to be mere drudges and sluggards
on the golden road. There was a time, indeed, when students of what
Gibbon termed "the vain science of alchemy," were actually called
"multipliers," and their unbounded confidence naturally made a deep
impression upon the credulous ignorance of their age. So much so that
our Henry IV. appears to have become seriously alarmed at the prospect
of the country being flooded with precious metals manufactured by the
"multipliers," for a statute passed during his reign decrees that "none
from henceforth shall use to multiply gold or silver or use the craft
of multiplication, and if any the same do he shall incur the pain of
felony." His Majesty might just as well have issued an edict against
gamblers making use of a sure method of winning!
One of the most remarkable things about gambling is that no one
ever seems to win--certainly the vast majority of those addicted to
play, even the most lucky, generally declare that on the whole they
have lost. A number of these, however, probably leave out of their
calculations the large amounts which they have spent whilst fortune was
in a generous mood; for gamblers when in luck are apt to fling their
money about very freely, and even when they are losing they do not as
a rule practise a rigid economy. This is not the case, of course, with
followers of methods and systems who take their gambling seriously;
these are often frugal men who, though quite callous about losing large
sums in the pursuit of their hobby, regard money spent on enjoyment or
luxuries as wasted. This is the type of gambler who racks his brains
with calculations, and takes immense trouble to obtain really sound
information about the chances of some race-horse, or of the rise or
fall of some stock.
But even to such sober gamblers the result is usually disappointing.
All methods, systems, and combinations do little to assist gamblers to
win--the most they can effect is to put a limitation on their losses;
and as regards special information, those who are addicted to racing
know only too well how expensive it is to be acquainted with any one
in a position to give really good "tips." More than that, information
which emanates from owners, trainers, and jockeys would soon break the
Bank of England were that institution to decide to risk its capital on
such advice. Not that in many cases these men are not really anxious to
give their friends winners; but somehow or other the good thing hardly
ever comes off. It is indeed not at all unlikely that the race-goer who
knows no one connected with the Turf has a distinct advantage; for when
regular racing men possess reliable information as to a horse which
has been reserved for some coup, they are obviously not at liberty to
divulge its name, and consequently the "tips" they give are little more
than hints of vague possibilities.
Although as a matter of fact the goddess of chance--not erroneously
called "fickle"!--is in the long run pitilessly severe upon her
votaries, one and all, there are times and occasions on which she seems
not indisposed to smile. To propitiate her is, therefore, the first
ambition of all gamblers, and in their efforts to attain this end many
of them exhibit an almost childish superstition. Yet we must remember
that the wisest of the Roman emperors kept a golden image of Fortune
in their private apartments, or carried it about them. They never sent
it to their successor till they were near expiring; and then it was
accompanied with this declaration--that in the whole course of their
achievements, they were more indebted to fortune than to any skill or
dexterity of their own.
Always feminine, Fortune is to all appearances essentially wayward and
capricious. She requires to be constantly tended, silently expected,
and approached with due caution and prudence. Rough and refractory
behaviour scares her away; irritation at her eccentricities banishes
her altogether; whilst levity and ingratitude, when she is in a
beneficent mood, soon causes her to escape. Moderation is the only
chance of securing her constant presence. In short, fortune, or luck,
is a phenomenon, the ground and essence whereof is to a great degree
inexplicable. For the most part we know it only from its effects, and
can give no certain account either of its nature or of its mode of
action, and of the always increasing or diminishing greatness of it. To
the gambler fortune appears to be an occult power, the aid of which is
not infrequently invoked by means of various fanciful fetishes, which
for the moment acquire a real virtue, as being likely to propitiate the
invisible influence which presides over speculation.
The movements of fortune have been well compared to those of the
sea, which for the most part seems to affect a serene and smiling
aspect, broken only by tranquil ripples. From time to time, however,
furious tempests and storms disturb its surface, calm being often
re-established as quickly and suddenly as it was originally broken.
Like the sea, Fortune would at heart appear to be inclined towards
tranquillity, though her fury, when roused, is inclined to conceal this
tendency.
Whilst Fortune generally seems to distribute her favours in a somewhat
haphazard way, there is no doubt that those who study the so-called
laws of chance are the most likely to receive them. For although chance
is generally considered to be effect without design, this is not
strictly true. Throughout the universe of nature, indeed, all events
appear in the end to be governed by immutable laws which have existed
from the beginning of time, no matter what partial irregularities may
arise at certain periods.
In any game, for instance, equality in play is likely to restore the
players in a series of events to the same state in which they began;
while inequality, however small, has a contrary effect, and the longer
the game be continued, the greater is likely to be the loss of the one
player and the gain of the other. As has been very soundly said, this
"more or less," in play, runs through all the ratios between equality
and infinite difference, or from an infinitely little difference till
it comes to an infinitely great one. The slightest of advantages,
whether arising from skill or chance, will as surely "materialise"
in the course of play as does the carefully calculated profit of a
commercial expert.
An event either will happen or will not happen; this constitutes
a certainty. Some events are dependent, others independent. The
difference is very important. Independent events have no connection,
their happenings neither forwarding nor obstructing one another.
Choosing a card from each of two distinct packs includes two
independent events; for the taking of a card from the first pack does
not in any way affect the taking of a card from the second--the chances
of drawing, or of not drawing, any particular card from the second pack
being neither lessened nor increased. On the other hand, the taking of
a second card from a pack from which one has already been drawn is a
dependent event, as the composition of the pack has been altered by the
abstraction of one particular card.
The surprising way in which an apparently small advantage operates may
be judged from the following example:--A and B agree to play for one
guinea a game until one hundred guineas are lost or won. A possesses
an advantage on each game amounting to 11 chances to 10 in his favour.
Mathematical analysis of this advantage proves that B would do well to
give A upwards of ninety-nine guineas to cancel the agreement.
Further, many speculative events, which at first sight seem to
be advantageous to one side, are demonstrated by mathematical
investigation to be of an exactly contrary nature. A bets B thirty-two
guineas to one that an event does not happen, and also bets B thirty
guineas even that it does happen in twenty-nine trials. Besides this
A gives B one thousand guineas to play in this manner six hours a day
for a month. Here B would appear to have some advantage. Mathematical
investigation, however, proves that in reality the advantage of A is
so great that B ought not only to return the thousand guineas to A,
but give him, in addition, another ten thousand guineas to cancel the
agreement.
Every game of chance presents two kinds of chances which are very
distinct--namely, those relating to the person interested (the
player) and those inherent in the combinations of the game. That is
to say, there is either "good luck" or "bad luck," which at different
times gives the player a "run" of good or bad fortune. But besides
this, there is the chance of the combinations of the game, which
are independent of the player and which are governed by the laws of
probability. Theoretically, chance is able to bring into any given game
all the possible combinations; but it is a curious fact that there are,
nevertheless, certain limits at which it seems to stop. A proof of this
is that a particular number at roulette does not turn up ten or a dozen
times in succession. In reality there would be nothing astounding about
such a run, but it is supposed never to have happened. On the other
hand, the numbers in one column at roulette have been known not to turn
up during seventeen successive coups.
All the same, extraordinary runs do occur at all games. In 1813, a
well-known betting man of the name of Ogden laid one thousand guineas
to one guinea, that calling seven as the main, a player would not throw
that number ten times successively from the dice-box. Seven was thrown
nine times in direct sequence! Mr. Ogden then offered four hundred and
seventy guineas to be let off the bet, but the thrower refused. He took
the box again but threw only twice more--nine--so that Mr. Ogden just
saved his thousand guineas.
In a game of chance, the oftener the same combination has occurred in
succession the nearer we are to the certainty that it will not recur at
the next coup. It would almost appear, in fact, as if there existed an
instant, prescribed by some unknown law, at which the chances become
mature, and after which they begin to tend again towards equalisation.
This is the secret of the pass and the counter-pass, and also of the
strange persistence which certain numbers at roulette sometimes show
in recurring--they are merely making up for lost time. At the end of a
year all the numbers on a roulette board would be found to have come up
about the same number of times--provided, of course, that the wheel is
kept in proper working order, a state of affairs which is assured at
Monaco by scrupulous daily inspection.
The considerations set forth above apply more especially to games like
roulette and trente-et-quarante played at public tables, where all
players have an equal chance against the bank, and where the personal
element, which is so important in private play, is to a large extent
eliminated. It is at public tables that the real gambler finds his
best chance. There, whilst having a fair field and no favour, he may,
if lucky, win very large sums with the certainty of being immediately
paid; and he is not exposed to various unfavourable influences, which
tell against men of his disposition when gambling amongst acquaintances
and even friends. Wherever a number of careless, inattentive people
possessed of money chance to be assembled, a few wary, cool, and shrewd
men will be found, who know how to conceal real caution and design
under apparent inattention and gaiety of manner; who push their luck
when fortune smiles and refrain when she changes her disposition; and
who have calculated the chances and are thoroughly master of every game
where judgment is required.
Occasionally men of this stamp have been known to have accumulated a
fortune, more often a respectable competency, at play. If they had
been interrogated as to the exact means by which they had made their
success, they would, had they been desirous of speaking the truth, have
replied in the words of the wife of the Maréchal d'Ancre, who, when
she was asked what charm she had made use of to fascinate the mind of
the queen, "The charm," she replied, "which superior abilities always
exercise over weaker minds."
The minor forms of gambling, which serve to gratify the speculative
instincts of ordinary mortals, have generally possessed little
attraction for great men, whose minds would seem to have been occupied
by more ambitious, though perhaps in essence not less speculative,
designs. Napoleon, for example, was a very poor card-player, and from
all accounts never indulged in any serious gambling. The great Duke
of Wellington, though he was once accused of being much addicted to
playing hazard, would also seem to have entertained no particular
fondness for play. In the course of a letter which he wrote in 1823 to
a Mr. Adolphus, who had publicly referred to his supposed love of play,
the great Captain wrote "that never in the whole course of his life had
he ever won or lost £20 at any game, and that he had never played at
hazard or any game of chance in any public place or club, nor been for
some years at all at any such place." Nevertheless, the Duke became an
original member of Crockford's in 1827, though there is no record of
his ever having played there.
Another great soldier, on the other hand, repeatedly lost large sums
at play. This was Blücher, who was inordinately fond of gambling. Much
to his disgust this passion was inherited by his son, who had often
to be rebuked by his father for his visits to the gaming-table, and
was given many a wholesome lecture upon his youth and inexperience,
and the consequent certainty of loss by coming in contact with older
and more practised gamblers. One morning, however, young Blücher
presented himself before his father, and exclaimed with an air of joy,
"Sir, you said I knew nothing about play, but here is proof that you
have undervalued my talents," pulling out at the same time a bag of
roubles which he had won the preceding night. "And I said the truth,"
was the reply; "sit down there, and I'll convince you." The dice were
called for, and in a few minutes old Blücher won all his son's money;
whereupon, after pocketing the cash, he rose from the table observing,
"Now you see that I was right when I told you that you would never win."
If, however, it would seem to be the case that few, if any, of the
world's very greatest minds have been addicted to gambling, it is no
less true that outside this select band all classes have been, and are,
equally subject to the passion. Nothing, indeed, is more extraordinary
than the fact that it has been observed to exercise the same
fascination on men of the most diverse characters and dispositions--on
rich and poor, educated and uneducated, young and old, learned and
ignorant.
Moreover, unlike other passions, the love of gambling generally remains
unimpaired by age, and instances of people of advanced years expending
their few remaining energies at the card-table are not rare. There
is the story of the venerable old north-country lady whom a visitor
found looking very red-eyed and weary. "I fear you are suffering from
a bad cold?" he inquired, solicitously. "Eh, I'se gat na cauld," was
the reply; "some friends kem from Kendal on Tuesday that love a game
a whist dearly, and I'se bin carding the morn and e'en, the e'en an'
the morn, twa days." "Indeed, and what might you have won?" "Eh," she
replied, with considerable satisfaction, "it mun be a shilling."
At first sight, also, one would think that avarice and passion for
play were absolutely incompatible; yet there are not a few striking
instances of the two vices being combined--by men to whom the spending
of a few shillings was agony, but who would risk thousands at cards
with comparative equanimity. Such an one was the celebrated Mr. Elwes,
who combined a passion for gambling with habits of the greatest penury.
He was originally a Mr. Meggot, the name of Elwes being assumed under
the terms of the will of his uncle. Sir Harvey Elwes.
Sir Harvey was himself the perfect type of a miser. Timid, shy, and
diffident in the extreme, he kept his household, which consisted of
one man and two maid-servants, chiefly upon game from his own land
and fish from his own ponds; the cows which grazed before his door
furnished milk, cheese, and butter for the establishment; and what fuel
he burned his own woods supplied. As he had no acquaintances and no
books, the hoarding-up and the counting of his money was his greatest
delight. Next to that came partridge catching--or setting, as it was
then called--at which he was so great an adept that he was known to
take five hundred brace of birds in one season. What partridges were
not consumed by his household he turned out again, as he never gave
anything away. At all times he wore a black velvet cap much over his
face, a worn-out, full-dress suit of clothes, and an old great-coat,
with worsted stockings drawn up over his knees. He rode a thin
thoroughbred horse, and the horse and his rider looked as if a gust of
wind would have blown them away together.
At the time Mr. Meggot succeeded to the name and fortune of his uncle
he was over forty, having for about fifteen years previously been
well-known in the most fashionable circles of the West End. He was a
gambler at heart, and only late in life did he succeed in obtaining any
mastery over his passion for play. His losses were great, but this was
mainly because while he himself always paid when he lost, his opponents
were not always so scrupulous, and it was notorious that the sums
owed to him in this way were very considerable. But he professed the
quixotic theory that "it was impossible to ask a gentleman for money";
and to his honour, but financial disadvantage, he adhered strictly to
this rule throughout his life.
The acquaintances which he had formed at Westminster School and at
Geneva, together with his own large fortune, all conspired to introduce
Mr. Elwes (then Mr. Meggot) into whatever society he best liked.
He was at once admitted a member of the club at Arthur's, and of
various other similar institutions; and as a proof of his notoriety
as a gambler, it may be mentioned that he, Lord Robert Bertie, and
some others, are noticed in a scene in _The Adventures of a Guinea_
for the frequency of their midnight orgies. Few men, even on his own
acknowledgment, had played deeper than himself, or with such varying
success. He once played two days and a night without intermission;
and the room being a small one, the company were nearly up to their
knees in cards. He lost some thousands at that sitting. The Duke of
Northumberland was of the party--another man who never would quit the
gaming-table while any hope of winning remained.
Even at this period, Mr. Elwes' passion for gaming was equalled by
his avarice, and in a curious manner he contrived to mingle small
attempts at saving with pursuits of the most unbounded dissipation.
After sitting up a whole night playing for thousands with the
most fashionable and profligate men of the time--in ornate and
brilliantly-lighted salons, with obsequious waiters attendant upon his
call--he would walk out about four in the morning, not towards his
home, but into Smithfield, to meet his own cattle, which were coming up
to market from Thaydon Hall, a farm of his in Essex. There would this
same man, forgetful of the scenes he had just left, stand in the cold
or rain, haggling with a carcass butcher for a shilling. Sometimes
when the cattle did not arrive at the hour he expected, he would walk
on in the mire to meet them; and more than once he actually trudged
the whole way to his farm, seventeen miles from London--a tedious walk
after sitting up the whole of the night at play!
Though he never engaged personally upon the Turf, Mr. Elwes was in
the habit of making frequent excursions to Newmarket, and a kindness
which he once performed there is worthy of recollection. Lord Abingdon,
who was slightly known to Mr. Elwes, had made a match for £7000 which
it was supposed he would be obliged to forfeit from an inability
to produce the sum--though the odds were greatly in his favour.
Unsolicited, Mr. Elwes made him an offer of the money; he accepted it,
and won the engagement.
On the day this match was to be run a clerical neighbour had agreed to
accompany Mr. Elwes to Newmarket. As was the latter's custom they set
out on their journey at seven in the morning, and, with the hope of a
substantial breakfast at Newmarket, the clergyman took no refreshment
before starting. They reached Newmarket about eleven, and Mr. Elwes
busied himself in inquiries and conversation till twelve, when the
match was decided in favour of Lord Abingdon. The divine then fully
expected that they should move off to the town for breakfast; but Elwes
still continued riding about on one business or another. Eventually
four o'clock arrived; and by this time his reverence had become so
impatient that he murmured something about the "keen air of Newmarket
heath" and the comforts of a good dinner. "Very true," replied Elwes,
"have some of this," offering him at the same time a piece of old,
crushed pancake from his great-coat pocket. He added that he had
brought it from his house at Marcham two months before, but "that it
was as good as new." The sequel of the story was that they did not
reach home till nine in the evening, when the clergyman was so tired
that he gave up all other refreshment for rest. On the other hand,
Elwes, who had hazarded seven thousand pounds in the morning, retired
happily to bed with the pleasing recollection of having saved three
shillings.
In later life Mr. Elwes was elected to Parliament, where he
proved himself an independent country member and exhibited great
conscientiousness. During this time he had the greatest admiration for
Mr. Pitt, and was wont to declare that in all the statesman's words
there were "pounds, shillings, and pence." When he quitted Parliament,
he was, in the common phrase, "a fish out of water." He had for some
years been a member of a card-club, at the Mount Coffee-House, and it
was there that he consoled himself for the loss of his seat. The play
was moderate, and he enjoyed the fire and candles which were provided
at the expense of the Club; but fortune seemed resolved to force from
him that money which no power could persuade him to bestow. He still
retained his fondness for play, and imagined that he had no small skill
at piquet. It was his ill-luck on one occasion to meet a gentleman who
had the same idea of his own powers in this direction, and on much
better grounds; for after a contest of two days and a night, in which
Elwes continued with the perseverance which avarice will sometimes
inspire, he rose the loser of no less than three thousand pounds. The
debt was paid by a draft on Messrs. Hoare, which was duly honoured the
next morning.
This is said to have been the last bout of gaming indulged in by
Mr. Elwes, and not long afterwards he retired to his country seat
at Stoke, remarking that "he had lost a great deal of money very
foolishly, but that a man grew wiser by time." After this no gleam of
pleasure or amusement broke through the gloom of a penurious life,
and his insatiable desire of saving became uniform and systematic. He
still rode about the country on an old brood mare (which was all he
had left); but then he rode her very economically, on the soft turf
adjoining the road, so as to avoid the cost of shoes. His household
expenses were reduced to a minimum, his few wants being attended to by
a man who became almost as celebrated as his master. This extraordinary
servant acted as butler, coachman, gardener, huntsman, groom, and
valet; and was, according to Mr. Elwes, "a d----d idle rascal" into the
bargain.
Mr. Elwes died in 1789 and left an enormous fortune for that day,
about five hundred thousand pounds being divided between his two
natural sons.
Mr. Elwes' record of having played piquet for two days and a night
(thirty-six successive hours) was a remarkable one, for the physical
strain involved by playing for such a long period is very considerable.
Yet the fascination of remaining at the gaming-table for a long stretch
of time frequently takes possession of those addicted to play. As a
rule it is not by any means caused solely by the consideration of the
stakes played for; it would rather seem that the players become mere
automatic gaming machines, the mechanism of which runs steadily on.
Several years ago a noticeable instance of this occurred in a London
Club, where, on a certain evening, a small party had been playing
écarté for fairly moderate stakes. The game began about eleven o'clock;
some three or four hours later only two players remained. As the time
went on, fine after fine was incurred by this couple, but still they
continued playing--until they passed the hour when expulsion was the
penalty exacted from any member still remaining in the Club-house.
They were still playing when morning broke, and though horrified and
sleepy-eyed waiters informed them that they could no longer continue,
their only answer was to stop the clock, an irritating reminder of
the fleeting hours. In this fashion they continued till one o'clock
the next afternoon, when, having realised that their escapade was a
serious one, they strolled through a crowd of outraged members into
the brilliant sunlight which, as if in irony, chanced that morning to
be flooding the street. It should be added that before leaving the
Club-house--for ever, as it turned out--the two culprits prudently
wrote out their resignations. The curious thing was that the stakes
during this sitting were by no means high, and the sums which changed
hands were consequently comparatively small.
Rowlandson, the artist, who was a well-known figure at most of the
fashionable gaming-houses of his time, frequently played through a
night and the next day. On one occasion he remained at the hazard table
for thirty-six hours without a break, the only refreshment which he
took being brought to him in the gambling-room. Rowlandson, who was a
most honourable man, was generally unlucky, and lost several legacies
at play. His imperturbability was remarkable, and he never exhibited
the slightest emotion whether he won or lost.
At the Roxburgh Club in St. James's Square--at the time when it was
kept by Raggett, the well-known proprietor of White's--Hervey Combe,
Tippoo Smith, Mr. Ward (a member of Parliament), and the distinguished
Indian General, Sir John Malcolm, once sat from Monday evening till
Wednesday morning at eleven o'clock, playing whist. Even then, they
would very likely have continued playing, had not Hervey Combe been
obliged to attend the funeral of one of his partners. Combe, who had
won thirty thousand pounds from Sir John Malcolm, jocularly told him
that he could have his revenge whenever he liked. "Thank you," replied
Sir John, "another sitting like this would oblige me to return to India
again!"
In all probability, however, the longest duel at cards which ever
took place occurred in the eighteenth century at Sulzbach, where the
famous adventurer, Casanova, made the acquaintance of an officer,
d'Entragues by name, who was very fond of piquet. For four or five
days in succession the Venetian and this officer played after dinner.
At the end of that time, however, Casanova declined to play any more,
having come to the conclusion that his opponent made a regular practice
of rising from the table directly he had won ten or twelve louis. He
adhered to this resolution for a day or two, but d'Entragues became
quite importunate in offers to give him his revenge.
"I do not care to play," was the reply of Casanova, given with some
effrontery. "We are not the same kind of gamblers. I play only for my
pleasure and because the game amuses me, whilst you play merely to win."
"If I understand you rightly," was the retort, "this is deliberate
rudeness!"
"I did not mean to be rude; but every time we have played you have left
me in the lurch at the end of an hour."
"A proof of my solicitude for your pocket, for as you are a worse
player than I, you would have lost a great deal had we continued."
"Possibly, but I don't believe it."
Eventually it was agreed that they should resume their contest, but
that the player who was the first to rise from the piquet-table should
forfeit fifty louis to his opponent. The stakes were five louis a
hundred points, ready money only to be played for.
The game began at three in the afternoon; at nine d'Entragues proposed
supper. Casanova said he was not hungry; whereupon his opponent
laughed, and the game was continued. The onlookers, who were fairly
numerous, went to supper, afterwards returning to remain till midnight,
when the players were left alone with a croupier who attended to the
accounts, the only utterances heard being those connected with the game.
From six in the morning, when the visitors who were taking the Sulzbach
waters began to be about, the contest excited the greatest public
interest. Casanova was now losing a hundred louis, though his luck had
not been very bad.
At nine o'clock a lady, Madame Saxe by name, to whom d'Entragues
was very devoted, arrived upon the scene and persuaded each of the
combatants to partake of a cup of chocolate. D'Entragues was the first
to consent to this; he believed that his opponent was near to giving in.
"Let us agree," he proposed, "that whoever asks for food, leaves the
room for more than a quarter of an hour, or goes to sleep in his
chair, shall be deemed the loser."
"I take you at your word," was Casanova's reply; "and shall be ready to
hold to any other irritating conditions you may suggest."
The game proceeded. At twelve o'clock another meal was announced,
but both players still declared that they were not hungry; at four,
however, they took some soup. Towards supper-time the onlookers began
to think that matters were going too far. Madame Saxe then made a
suggestion that the stakes should be divided, but to this proposal
Casanova firmly declined to consent. At this moment d'Entragues
might have risen from the table a winner even after having paid
the forfeit, for besides being the better player luck had favoured
him. Nevertheless, his pride prevented him from abandoning what had
degenerated into a mere contest of endurance. His appearance had become
that of a corpse which had been disinterred, in striking contrast to
the still normal looks of Casanova, who, to the remonstrances of Madame
Saxe, replied that he would only give up the struggle by falling down
dead.
The night wore on, and once more the players were left alone. By this
time d'Entragues was showing evident signs of complete exhaustion,
which was increased by an altercation about some trifling point
raised by Casanova with the express purpose of further weakening his
opponent's resistance.
At nine o'clock next morning Madame Saxe arrived to find her lover
losing, and so dazed that he could hardly shuffle the cards, count,
or properly discard. Once more she appealed to Casanova, pointing out
to him that he could now rise a winner. In a tone of great gallantry
the latter replied that he would agree to abandon the struggle if the
forfeit were declared void, a condition to which d'Entragues declined
to assent. The latter, though very weak, showed considerable annoyance
at the manner in which Casanova had spoken to Madame Saxe, and declared
that for his part he should not leave the table till either he or his
opponent lay dead upon the floor.
In due course of time soup was again brought to the players, but
d'Entragues, who was now in the last stage of weakness, fell down in
a dead faint almost immediately after the cup had been raised to his
lips, and in this condition he was carried away to bed. On the other
hand, Casanova, after having given half a dozen louis to the croupier
(who had been awake for forty-two consecutive hours), leisurely put
the gold he had won in his pockets, and strolled out to a chemist's
where he purchased a mild emetic. He then went to bed and slept lightly
for a few hours, getting up about three o'clock in the afternoon with
an excellent appetite. His opponent did not appear till the next
day, when, much to his credit, he told Casanova that he bore him no
ill-will, and was on the contrary grateful to him for a lesson which he
should remember all the days of his life.
Casanova was not always as successful as this in his gambling
enterprises, which indeed occasionally involved him in unpleasant
situations; but like most adventurers of his type and age he was seldom
depressed by losses. He would appear to have generally dominated
other gamesters whom he met--a state of affairs which was probably
not unconnected with the Venetian's well-known truculence. Besides,
he was, as a rule, not over-burdened with money, a circumstance which
perhaps made him the more ready to engage in a contest. People who are
over-prosperous are not given to exhibiting any particular spirit in
such affairs. A gentleman, who had been fortunate at cards, was asked
to be a second in a duel, at a period when the seconds engaged as
heartily as the principals. "I am not," replied he, "the man for your
purpose at this time; but go and apply to a friend of mine from whom I
won a thousand guineas last night, and I warrant you he will fight like
any devil!"
Though ready to resent any slight, and tenacious of keeping up a
reputation for being "cock of the walk" in the circles in which he
moved, Casanova was possessed of great self-control, and always made
a point of being urbane, even whilst sustaining a severe reverse--a
pleasing characteristic which, he declared, obtained him access to
much pleasant society. It was his constant practice to hold a bank
at the various resorts of the pleasure-loving world which he visited
during his adventurous career. At Aix in Savoy (which is still a
place in high favour with the votaries of chance owing to its two
Casinos), Casanova was once particularly successful. He himself, with
all a gambler's superstition, attributed his good fortune on this
occasion to the appearance of three Englishmen--one of them Fox (then
on the threshold of his career), who borrowed fifty louis of the great
adventurer, whom he had previously met at Geneva.
From his earliest years Charles James Fox had been accustomed to
gambling, having been elected a member of Brooks's when but sixteen
years old. At that time the Club in question, now so decorous and
staid, was the head-quarters of the fashionable London gamester,
and the high-spirited youth fully availed himself of the excellent
opportunities for dissipating a fortune which were here at easy
command. On one occasion Fox sat playing at hazard for twenty-two
consecutive hours, with the result that he rose the loser of eleven
thousand pounds. At twenty-five he was a ruined man, his father having
paid for him one hundred and forty thousand pounds out of his own
property.
[Illustration: _The SPENDTHRIFT_
Deaf to his aged Sire's advice,
And biggotted to Cards and Dice;
With many a horrid Oath and Curse,
He loudly wails his empty Purse.
From an Eighteenth-Century Print.]
Though a most unsuccessful gambler. Fox played whist and piquet
exceedingly well, it being generally agreed at Brooks's that he might
have made about four thousand a year at these games had he but confined
himself to them. His misfortunes arose from playing at games of chance,
particularly at faro, of which he was very fond. As a rule after
eating and drinking plentifully, he would repair to the faro table,
almost invariably rising a loser. Once indeed, and only once, he
won about eight thousand pounds in the course of a single evening;
part of this money he paid away to his creditors, and the remainder he
lost again almost immediately in the same manner. Mr. Boothby, also an
irreclaimable gamester and an intimate friend of Fox, speaking of the
latter said, "He was unquestionably a man of first-rate talents, but so
deficient in judgment as never to have succeeded in any object during
his whole life. He loved only three things: women, play, and politics.
Yet at no period did he ever form a creditable connection with a woman;
he lost his whole fortune at the gaming-table; and with the exception
of about eleven months he remained always in opposition."
Before he attained his thirtieth year, Fox had completely dissipated
every shilling that he could either command or procure by the most
ruinous expedients. During his career he experienced, at times, many
of the severest privations attached to the vicissitudes which mark
a gamester's progress, and frequently lacked money to defray common
expenses of the most pressing nature. Topham Beauclerk--himself a
man of pleasure and of letters--who lived much in Fox's society at
that period of his life, used to say that no man could form an idea
of the extremities to which his friend had been driven in order to
raise money, after losing his last guinea at the faro table. For days
in succession he was reduced to such distress as to be under the
necessity of having recourse to the waiters of Brooks's Club to lend
him assistance--even sedan-chairmen, whom he was unable to pay, used to
clamour at his door.