Many curious incidents occurred at hazard. On one occasion when two

gamesters had deposited a very large stake to be won by him who threw

the lowest throw with the dice, one of them, who had thrown three aces,

thought himself secure of success.

"Wait for my throw," cried his opponent.

He threw, and with such dexterity, that by lodging one of the dice on

the other, he showed only one ace on the uppermost of them. He was

allowed by the company to have won the stakes.

It used to be said that at hazard, men under the influence of wine

were invariably more fortunate than those who played with cooler heads

or more collected judgments. Of this, perhaps the most remarkable

instance ever known was the notorious spendthrift and sportsman Jack

Mytton, of whom the Hell-keepers used to say, "there was no use playing

against the Squire when he was drunk."

Mytton was indeed rather a formidable figure at the hazard-table, where

he was supposed to have won more than he lost. When heated with wine

and full of courage he was the dread of the proprietors of the minor

gambling-tables at country race meetings, whose banks he was given to

breaking in more ways than one--it being his practice to demolish all

their gambling apparatus if he observed the slightest suspicion of foul

play. At Warwick races in 1824, for instance, Mytton and some friends

not only smashed a rouge-et-noir table to atoms, but soundly thrashed

the proprietor and his gang.

On another occasion he showed considerable presence of mind when

surprised by the Mayor of Chester during a raid on a hazard Hell one

Sunday. In the confusion which ensued the Squire of Halston, who was

a winner, deftly put his gains in his hat, which he quite coolly

placed upon his head, and walked out unnoticed. He was not so careful,

however, on one occasion after a great run of luck in London when,

having broken the banks of two well-known London Hells, he went off

with the money--a large sum in notes--to Doncaster. On his return from

the races in a post-chaise he set to work to count his winnings, the

windows of the carriage being open. He soon fell asleep, and when he

awoke, the night being far advanced, found that notes to the value of

several thousand pounds had been blown out of the window. Truly a case

of "light come, light go!"

[Illustration: LIGHT COME, LIGHT GO.]

When quite a young man Mytton had been subjected to plucking by many

a rook. As a subaltern of the 7th Hussars in the army of occupation

at Calais he borrowed £3000 of a banker at St. Omer one day and lost

half of it the next at a swindling E.O. table. However, he relieved

his feelings by demolishing the whole concern. About the same time he

lost no less than sixteen thousand napoleons to a certain Captain at

billiards, but Lord Uxbridge, who was Colonel of his regiment, having

reason to believe that the whole thing was a robbery, forbade him to

pay.

There are now probably very few people in England who could conduct a

game of hazard, the rules of which are practically forgotten. The last

man who was thoroughly versed in the intricacies of the game is said

to have been a certain well-known bookmaker, Atkins by name, who, as

late as the 'seventies, used to keep a hazard-table going at Brighton

during the race week, where considerable sums of money were lost and

won. He also presided over a hazard-table at Bognor during the Goodwood

meeting. An associate of his, who was known as "Chanticleer" owing to

his vocal powers in calling the odds, afterwards proved very successful

in another walk of life, where he accumulated a considerable fortune.

Some thirty-six years ago hazard used to be played at Doncaster during

the race week, an excellent account of the scenes which used to take

place there being given by Sir George Chetwynd in his _Recollections_.

French hazard was less rough-and-ready than the English game. Every

stake that was "set" was covered by the bank, so that the player ran no

risk of losing a large amount, though, if successful, he could win but

a trifling one; on the other hand, the scale of odds was so altered as

to operate most prejudicially against the player. An equal rate of odds

between main and chance was never laid by the French "banker" as was

insisted on by the English groom-porter; while, again, "direct nicks"

alone were recognised by the former. Most extraordinary runs of luck

have occurred at hazard, a player having sometimes thrown five, seven,

and even eleven mains in a single hand. In cases of runs like this the

peculiar feature in the French game became valuable, the bank being

prepared to pay all winnings, while, generally speaking, a hand of six

or seven mains at English hazard would exhaust all the funds of the

players, and leave the caster in the position of "setting the table"

and finding the stakes totally unnoticed or only partially covered.

To show what sums changed hands at hazard in the eighteenth century,

it may be mentioned that a celebrated gambler. Major Baggs by name,

once won £17,000 at hazard, by throwing in, as it is called, fourteen

successive mains. This Major Baggs was an extraordinary character

who went to the East Indies in 1780 on a gaming speculation; but

not finding it answer, he returned home overland, encountering many

adventures. At Cairo he narrowly avoided death by escaping in a Turkish

dress to Smyrna. A companion of his was seized, and sent prisoner to

Constantinople, where he was at length released by the interference

of Sir Robert Anstie, the English ambassador. Baggs once won £6000 of

a young gentleman at Spa, and immediately came to England to get the

money from the peer (Lord Onslow) who was the father of the young man.

Terms of accommodation were proposed by his lordship in presence of a

well-known banker whose respectability and consequence were well known.

The peer offered him a thousand guineas and a note for the remainder

at a distant period. Baggs, however, wanted the whole to be paid down,

and some altercation ensued, in the course of which the banker observed

that he thought his lordship had offered very handsome terms. "Sirrah,"

said Baggs in a passion, "hold your tongue; the laws of commerce you

may be acquainted with, but the laws of honour you can know nothing

about."

Major Baggs at one time in his life was worth more than £100,000.

He had fought eleven duels, and was allowed to be very skilful with

the sword. He was a man of a determined mind, great penetration, and

considerable literary culture; and when play was out of the case,

could be an agreeable, gentlemanlike, and instructive companion. He

was very generous to people whom he liked; and a certain naval lord,

highly respected, when in rather a distressed situation at Paris, found

a never-failing resource in the purse of the Major, who was open-handed

enough at times. For several years he lived at Paris in the greatest

splendour, and during a stay at Avignon, frequently gave splendid

suppers to the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland and their friends,

whom he followed to Naples, getting introduced to the King's private

parties, and winning £1500 of His Majesty.

Major Baggs eventually fell a victim to gaming, dying of a chill

produced by a night passed in a round-house, having been locked up with

other frequenters of a gaming-house which was raided by the police.

Numbers of such places existed in the London of that day, which were

the constant resort of those who, like the Major, found access to Clubs

somewhat difficult.

From about 1780 to 1845 the West End was full of gambling-hells,

the most popular of which were generally in the parish of St.

James's, and St. George's, Hanover Square. Others also existed in St.

Martin's-in-the-Fields, Piccadilly, St James's Street, Pall Mall,

St. James's Square, Jermyn Street, Bury Street, Charles Street, King

Street, Duke Street, Bennett Street, and the neighbourhood of the

Quadrant. The games principally played, besides English and French

hazard, were rouge-et-noir, roulette, and une-deux-cinque. The

principal proprietors of these houses were Bond, Oldfield, Goodwin,

Bennet, Smith, Russell, Phillips, Rougeir, Burge, Carlos, Humphries,

Fielden, Taylor, Bird, Morgan, Kerby, Aldridge, Barnet, and many

others, amongst whom, of course, the celebrated Crockford stood forth

in almost regal splendour.

Nevertheless there was a crusade against gambling and betting always

carried on by the section of the population which were known as the

"Methodists," some of whose preachers were very clever and apt.

"Ah, my brethren," once said one of these, addressing a congregation

into which several sporting men had strolled, "why waste your lives

thinking so much of what you call 'flimsies.' These, my friends,"

turning over the leaves of his Bible, "are God's bank-notes, and when

you carry them to heaven, he will cash them at sight!"

Another preacher, whilst painting a vivid picture of the tortures which

awaited gamesters in a future life, declared that the apartments of

Satan were filled with cards and dice, and that Hoyle was the only book

in his library. Nevertheless, the denunciations of the "godly" effected

little, and though from time to time the authorities organised raids

upon the more scandalous resorts, gaming continued to flourish.

As late as the early 'thirties of the last century, the West End of

London was full of Hells, a number of them in the Quadrant. Hazard

was the principal game played. The lowest gaming-houses were generally

located in obscure courts or other places not much exposed to public

observation. As a rule they were kept shut up as if unoccupied, or else

some appearance of a trade was carried on to prevent suspicion. It used

to be said that at one or two of these Hells individuals were kept on

the premises whose sole duty lay in being able to swallow the dice in

case of a raid by the authorities. Whether this was the case or not, it

is certain that there was usually some convenient receptacle contrived

in the shutters or elsewhere into which the implements of gaming could

be speedily thrown. A house containing a back room sufficiently large

to contain forty or fifty people, was the ideal of the proprietors

of such places. The man who acted as croupier was, as has been said,

known as the "groom-porter," an appellation dating from the eighteenth

century, when the Court was, on occasion, wont to gamble at the

Groom-Porter's in the Palace of St. James.

The profits of the house were supposed to be derived from a tax levied

on successful players, any one winning three times running being

expected to pay a certain sum of money to the table or "cagnotte."

A player doing this was called a "box hand," the amount of his

contribution varying from a shilling to half a crown according to the

rules and standing of the house.

[Illustration: A ROW IN A FASHIONABLE HELL.]

The main profits of these Hells, however, were in the majority

of instances derived from shady practices, many of the proprietors

being in league with sharks of various kinds who preyed upon the more

credulous or foolish players.

The least important gambling-houses were generally kept by retired

prize-fighters and bullies, who hectored their weaker clients out of

such sums as they might chance to win.

In the higher class of Hells, silver counters, representing certain

fractions of a pound, were used; these were called pieces, and one of

them was the amount of the tax levied on a "box hand."

When a gentleman first appeared at these Hells, the Hellites and the

players were curious to learn who and what he was, especially the

former, to calculate the rich or poor harvest to be reaped by him,

and they regulated their conduct accordingly. Should he be introduced

by a broken player, and lose a good sum, his introducer seized the

opportunity to borrow a few pounds of the Hellites. But if the

gentleman was successful, "a few pounds to give his kind friend a

chance" was not refused. If the visitor proved unlucky the Hellites

ventured, after he had lost hundreds, to lend him twenty or thirty

pounds, for which his cheque was demanded and given. Generally they not

only knew his name, but soon ascertained, by underhand inquiries at his

bankers, the extent of his account, his connections and resources. Upon

this knowledge, if his account was good, they would cash him cheques

to within a hundred pounds of the balance. Instances have been known,

after cheques have been cashed and paid in this way, to large amounts,

and the balance drawing to a close, that when a cheque for a small

amount has been wanted, cashed by the very same parties, it has been

refused, the Hellite actually telling the party, within a few pounds,

the amount he had left at his banker's. One gentleman was once told

within five pounds of what he had there.

A number of Hells masqueraded as Clubs, and made some show of only

admitting regular members to the delights of play.

The following prospectus, issued in the 'twenties of the last century,

is a fair sample of those used by the proprietors of gaming-houses

in London to attract clients. The house in question was under the

superintendence of Weare, who was murdered by Thurtell.

A party of gentlemen, having formed the design of instituting a

Select Club, to be composed of those gentlemen only whose habits and

circumstances entitle them to an uncontrolled but proper indulgence

in the current amusements of the day, adopt this mode of submitting

the project to consideration, and of inviting those who may approve of

it, to an early concurrence and co-operation in the design. To attain

this object the more speedily, and render it worthy the attention

and support it lays claim to, it may be only necessary to mention

that the plan is founded on the basis of liberality, security, and

respectability, combining with the essential requisites of a select

and respectable association, peculiar advantages to the members

conceded by no similar institution in town. Further particulars may be

learned on personal application between the hours of twelve and two at

55 Pall Mall.

In 1831 a gaming-house called the Athenæum was a public scandal. This

gaming-hell was situated at the upper end of St. James's Street, on the

same side as White's. It was owned by three brothers named Bond, one of

whom only, Ephraim, was publicly recognised as the proprietor.

This man Bond had had many vicissitudes. Once, when quite at the end of

his tether, a gentleman came into a house where he was looking on at

the play, and having no confidence in his own judgment or good fortune,

commissioned Bond to make his bets for him, and, being very successful,

the gentleman, who was a member of the House of Commons, presented him

with fifty pounds. This became the nucleus of his future fortune.

After working his fifty pounds for some time in various advantageous

gaming speculations, he became a small partner in a Bury Street house

and subsequently in gaming-houses in Bennett Street, Pall Mall, and

Piccadilly, until, as before stated, he located all his machinery and

performers in the Athenæum, in St. James's Street, near Nos. 50 and 51.

Burge, an individual closely connected with Bond, was another

well-known figure in the gambling world of those days.

The "Subject," as this man was nicknamed, in consequence of his

wretched and cadaverous appearance, was born at Glastonbury, in

Somersetshire, where he was brought up a tailor. Shortly after the

termination of his apprenticeship he married, but finding business

not answer his expectations he removed to London, where he commenced

business in a little way, but in about two years became a bankrupt.

At this period of his life, when distressed in pocket and harassed in

mind, he was introduced into a shilling table hazard-house kept at that

time by the celebrated J.D. Kelly and George Smith in Lisle Street,

Leicester Square.

From the very moment that the "Subject" first saw a hazard-table his

nature changed, and wife, children, home, and business were totally

obliterated from his mind. The few shillings which from time to time

he could scrape together from the charity of his own or his wife's

friends were all carried to the table, although at this time he was

still a perfect novice in all concerning play. He generally lost his

money soon after he entered a gaming-house, but even when penniless

he always remained until the table was broken up, generally some time

before midnight, when he would make his way to a miserable home, only

to sleep till the hour for witnessing play again arrived. This state

of restlessness and perturbation brought on a serious fit of illness,

whilst his wife was compelled to take in washing for the support of

the family, who lived amidst scenes of acute misery. Nothing, however,

diverted the "Subject" from the gaming-table; no sooner did he recover

and was able to crawl out than he was at hazard again, though many were

his quarrels with the table-keepers, who resented his presence in

their rooms, as he so rarely brought a shilling to play with. Nothing,

however, could overcome his infatuation, and had he been turned out for

good he would have lain down at the door, and listened to the sound of

the dice-box until he died of exposure to the weather. At length Smith,

a gaming-house proprietor who had removed to Oxendon Street, Coventry

Street, finding Burge determined, by some means or other, to be present

during play, installed him as a permanent official in his rooms, with

regular duties, the chief of which were to trim the lamps hanging over

the hazard-table and to hand a glass of gin to the man who threw in six

mains in succession, when he was allowed to say, "Remember the waiter,

your honour." Subsequently, the groom-porter being indisposed, the

"Subject" mounted the stool and called the main, continuing afterwards

sometimes to act alternately in each capacity until the proprietor took

the house in 71 Jermyn Street, when he got a rise in the world and was

made a regular groom-porter in a crown-house.

The history of the so-called "Athenæum" run by Bond was curious.

At the time when the real Athenæum in Pall Mall was being established

there was a swindler upon the town named William Earl. Although the

son of a respectable bookseller, who formerly resided in Albemarle

Street, Piccadilly, he committed some very flagrant acts of imposition

upon the public. Among many other schemes he conceived the plan

of pretending that he was the person deputed and authorised by the

gentlemen composing the members of the true Athenæum Club, to take

and fit up a house for their accommodation. The house in St. James's

Street being to let at the time, he (Earl) took it on the residue of a

lease having between two and three years to run, and, forthwith, when

in possession, got tradesmen to fit it up in the most superb manner

possible, making it a great favour to recommend them to so good a job,

the Athenæum management promising that all the money shares should

be paid down the moment the house was ready for the reception of the

members. The furniture, however, as fast as it was brought into the

house, disappeared, being taken away by Earl to dispose of for cash to

put into his own pocket, preparatory to a final retreat from the scene

of action. This being discovered before larger debts were contracted,

the creditors, who were already minus about £1400, convened a meeting,

at which, under a threat of a criminal prosecution, they compelled Earl

to assign the premises and everything else to three gentlemen, Messrs.

Baines, Vincent, and Laing, in trust for the benefit of the creditors.

These gentlemen, subsequently representing the case of the creditors

to the Lord Chamberlain, obtained a licence for music, the premises

being designated and inserted in the licence as known by the name of

the Athenæum; but this and a juggling speculation failing, it was at

length let to Ephraim Bond, Esq., at a rental of £50 per month. This

was in the early part of the year 1830, during which Earl was committed

to Newgate for swindling a jeweller in St. Paul's Churchyard out of a

gold chain and other property, being subsequently transported for the

term of seven years. The notoriety of these circumstances, and the

length of time Earl's name had been before the public, as being somehow

connected with the institution described as the Athenæum Club in St.

James's Street, led a vast number of thoughtless young men to visit

the house. Certain is it, that not a few joined the place under a full

impression that they were actually admitted into the real Athenæum

Club: and to this confusion of names did the new proprietor, in a very

large measure, owe the extraordinary run of play he had at his tables.

Among the persons who were employed at this house were Kelly, Peck,

Hancock, Mayne, and Thompson: the two latter were retained by Bond as

waiters, after having been placed in the house under the following

circumstances. Earl, as the spurious Athenæum progressed, advertised

for waiters; when these men applied, he represented in forcible

language the responsible nature of their situations, and the great

trust which would be reposed in them, informing one that all the linen

and glass would be placed in his hands, and the other that he would

have charge of plate to the value of some thousands. By these means he

induced one to deposit £150 and the other £100 as security before they

entered upon the service of the Club. Bond thought that the ill-usage

of these men gave them some claim upon the premises, and, therefore,

installed them into the office which they originally came to fill, that

is, as waiters.

At many of the gambling-houses the waiters reaped a rich harvest by

lending money. At Crockford's one of these servants once received £500,

nominally as a Christmas-box, but really as a recognition of timely

financial assistance rendered to frequenters of the hazard-table; £100

of this sum was given to him by a nobleman who had in one week won

£80,000 on a moderate sum which had been borrowed from the waiter in

question.

About 1838 gaming-houses were kept open all day, the dice were scarcely

ever idle, day or night. All the week, all the year round, persons were

to be found in these places, losing their money, and up to 1844 there

were no less than twelve gaming-houses in St. James's and St. George's.

Before that the play was higher, but not so general.

The increase of gambling-houses was said to be owing to the existence

of Crockford's. Such was the opinion of the Honourable Frederick Byng,

as given before the Committee of the House of Commons. He declared

"that the facility to gamble at Crockford's led to the establishment of

other gambling-houses fitted up in a superior style, and attractive to

gentlemen who never would have thought of going into them formerly." He

added that in his older days gambling was very high, but the amusement

of a very few. Mr. Byng also said he "could have named all the gamblers

in his early days at the clubs. No person coming into a room where

hazard was carried on would have been permitted to play for a small

sum, and therefore poor people left it alone."

Light Come, Light Go: Gambling—Gamesters—Wagers—The Turf · 第 5 / 27 段