no particular stir in the literary world, and whose books did not
seem likely to have had a very enormous sale, suddenly purchased a
nice estate in which was included a luxurious country house, where he
began to entertain. An old friend of his on a visit frankly expressed
himself surprised at this sudden accession of prosperity, and alone one
wet day with his host in the smoking-room bluntly asked:
"However did you make so much money, surely not by your books?"
"No," was the reply, "by speculating in the City."
"An experience as rare as it was pleasant--I suppose you were given
some good tips."
"Yes, not taking them was the secret of my success!"
The host then proceeded to explain that, chancing to know a number
of men in the City who were in the best possible position to have
sound information as to the rise and fall of stocks and shares, the
thought one day struck him that he might profit by such opportunities.
Accordingly he let it be known that he had a certain amount of money
which it was his intention to try and increase by careful speculation.
Tips poured in upon him--he was entreated to become a bear of this and
a bull of that--people appeared anxious to put him into all sorts of
ventures, and he became the recipient of much "exclusive" information.
His idea of speculation, however, was original. Told to buy a certain
stock he invariably sold it; warned of a coming fall, he speculated
for a rise; in fact it became his practice to act in a manner exactly
contrary to that indicated by his many advisers, whom, meanwhile, he
kept in ignorance of what he was doing.
By this curious and original method in a comparatively short time
he accumulated a comfortable fortune, and then decided to abandon
speculation and spend the rest of his days in prosperous ease.
As this shrewd and fortunate speculator explained to his friend, human
nature must be reckoned with in all things, and in a vast number of
cases those who give tips are interested in the particular stocks which
they not unnaturally seek to bolster up--a really good thing does not
need much puffing.
On the other hand, regular schemes to depress certain stocks are often
engineered in a most clever manner, adverse rumours being spread
as to a probable fall in order to facilitate large purchases at a
small figure; these having been made, the stock rises with startling
rapidity. The best maxim for speculators, not well versed in City
matters, is to take plenty of advice, and in the vast majority of cases
to operate in an exactly contrary way.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 6: An excellent account of this adventurer is given by that
gifted writer Mr. Theodore Andrea Cook, in _Eclipse and O'Kelly_,
published two years ago.]
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.
Amongst the sporting characters of the past who flung their fortunes to
the winds at the gaming-table or on the race-course there were not a
few who were possessed of considerable intelligence and charm. Such a
one was the handsome, gallant, and accomplished Colonel Mellish, beyond
all doubt the Admirable Crichton of his day.
The son of Mr. Charles Mellish, of Blyth Hall, near Doncaster, a
gentleman devoted to antiquarian research and obviously of very
different disposition from his son, Henry Mellish was born in 1780, and
coming into his kingdom after a long minority, plunged at once with
infinite zest into every form of patrician dissipation. It has been
said that he was at Eton, but his name does not appear in the school
lists. At any rate, whatever his school, he seems to have distinguished
himself at it by a variety of escapades, which culminated in his
running away and flatly refusing to return. In his seventeenth year
he joined the 11th Light Dragoons, from which he exchanged into the
10th Hussars, the smartest light cavalry regiment of the day, with the
Prince of Wales for its colonel. There is a tradition that Mellish was
granted perpetual leave lest his extravagance should corrupt the young
officers; but his subsequent career proves that he must at least have
seen enough of soldiering to have learned his duty. After he had left
the 10th Hussars, his name appears in the army list as an officer of
the 87th Royal Irish Regiment, and also as a major of the Sicilian
Legion, in which many Englishmen held honorary commissions. At the same
time, his name figures in the list of Lieutenant-Colonels. Mellish was
no mere fashionable spendthrift. He was a man of many accomplishments.
Nature, indeed, seemed to have qualified him for taking the lead, and
to have given him a temperament so ardent, as made it almost impossible
for him ever "to come in second."
He understood music, and could draw, and paint in oil colours. As a
companion he was always in high spirits, and talked with animation on
every subject; whilst his conversation, if not abounding in wit, was
ever full of interesting information founded on fact and experience. He
had a manner of telling and acting a story that was perfectly dramatic.
He was at home with all classes, and could talk with the gentleman and
associate with the farmer.
In Mellish culminated all the best of these various qualities which
were considered the appanage of a patrician sportsman of his day. A
most expert whip, no man drove four-in-hand with more skill and with
less labour than he did; and to display that skill he often selected
very difficult horses to drive, satisfied if they were goers. As a
rider he was equally eminent: for years after his death his memory
lingered in many a hunt, where he had led all the light weights of
Leicestershire, Rutlandshire, and Yorkshire, when he was himself riding
fourteen stone. His was the art of making a horse do more than other
riders, and he accustomed them, like himself, "to go at everything."
The following stanza, one of those in a famous hunting song composed
when Lord Darlington, afterwards Duke of Cleveland, hunted the
Badsworth country, commemorates the young sportsman, who was well-known
as a daring rider with these hounds:--
Behold Harry Mellish, as wild as the wind,
On Lancaster mounted, leave numbers behind;
But lately returned from democrat France,
Where, forgetting to bet, he's been learning to dance.
A melancholy occurrence once gave him an opportunity of displaying, not
only his filial affection, but also his determination as a horseman.
Having heard the alarming intelligence of his mother's illness, he
mounted one of his barouche-horses to proceed to London, and actually
rode from Brighton to East Grinstead, a distance of twenty miles, in an
hour and twenty minutes; the strain of this feat was so severe that on
arrival at his destination the gallant horse which had carried him fell
dead.
As a runner he was by no means to be despised. He beat Lord Frederick
Bentinck (renowned for fleetness of foot) in a running match on
Newmarket Heath. For everything connected with sport Colonel Mellish
possessed a natural aptitude, as was universally recognised.
In appearance he was a big man, who even as a youth weighed some twelve
stone. Nearly six feet high and admirably proportioned, the pallor
of his complexion was rendered more noticeable by his black hair and
brilliant eyes. In dress he had a great fondness for light hues and
usually wore a white "boat hat,"[7] white trousers, and silk stockings
of the same colour. When he arrived on the course at Newmarket his
barouche, which he drove himself, was drawn by four beautiful white
horses, whilst two out-riders in crimson liveries, also mounted on
white steeds, preceded this brilliant turn-out. Behind rode another
groom leading a thoroughbred hack, whilst yet another waited at the
rubbing post with a spare horse in case of accidents.
At that time he had thirty-eight race-horses in training, seventeen
coach-horses, twelve hunters, four chargers, and a number of ordinary
hacks. The expenses of his establishment were enormous. Besides these
he lost very large sums at the gaming-table, where he once staked
£40,000 at a single throw and lost it. At his own home he gambled away
vast sums, and a table was formerly preserved at Blyth on which its
former owner had once lost £40,000 to the Prince Regent. At one sitting
at a London Club--it is said at Brooks's, though Mellish's name does
not appear in the list of former members--he rose the loser of £97,000,
and was leaving the Club-house, when he met the Duke of Sussex, who,
hearing what had happened, persuaded him to return and try his luck
once more. This he did, and in two or three hours won £100,000 off the
Duke, who paid as much of this sum as he could, promising to settle
the rest by a life annuity of £4000. It would, however, seem somewhat
doubtful whether the entire debt was ever liquidated.
As a matter of fact such large sums were often lost at hazard that it
was no infrequent thing for losers to compromise their debt by paying
an annuity to fortunate opponents. The impression that in old days all
gambling liabilities were scrupulously discharged on the spot is not
based upon any very solid foundation, and winners sometimes had the
greatest difficulty in getting their money. Under such circumstances
defaulters were occasionally posted.
The expression "posting a man" for not having paid a debt of honour is
now more or less figurative, but, as recently as the beginning of the
nineteenth century, defaulters were publicly posted.
In September 1824, for instance, all Brighton was surprised to find the
following placard posted up at Lucombe's Library and other places of
the same sort:--
BRIGHTON, _September 8, 1824_.
Twice have I applied to the Earl of S. for the settlement of a bet,
and twice, having given him the offer of a reference, I was under
the necessity of requesting the satisfaction of a gentleman, which
he refused. As such, I post the Earl of S. as a man who constantly
refuses to pay his debts of honour, and a coward.
W.T.
The above placard is said to have been induced by the refusal of a
certain Peer to answer a demand of £2000, for which no satisfactory
claim could be produced.
To guard against the possibility of a duel, warrants were issued
against the nobleman and Mr. W.T. by the local magistrates. The Earl
was easily found, and bound in a recognisance of the peace. Mr. W.T.,
however, could not be discovered, it being declared that he feared
criminal proceedings being taken.
Most of the gamblers of a century ago were men of careless disposition,
and Colonel Mellish in particular lived in such a whirl of excitement
and gambled in such tremendous sums that a few thousands more or less
were at this time very little to him. His life was devoted to frolics
of every kind. On one occasion after a ball at Doncaster, Mellish and
the Duke of Clarence sallied out for a lark and assisted in the arrest
of a man who had been fighting in the street. When the party reached
the prison, Mellish locked the Royal Duke in a cell and went off with
the key, which he delivered to his brother the Prince of Wales. The
Duke on his liberation took the joke very good-humouredly.
It may be added that, like most born gamblers, Colonel Mellish lost
his money with the greatest coolness, ever accepting ill-luck with
imperturbable equanimity. The hazardous joys of racing were to him an
irresistible lure, and no more ardent supporter of the Turf than he
ever lived. His career as an owner of racers only extended over about
seven years, from 1801 to 1808, when financial difficulties obliged him
to abandon the sport to which he was devoted. The greatest financial
reverse he suffered was when Mr. Clifton's Fyldener won the St. Leger
in 1806. Over a million guineas are said to have changed hands over
this race, and Colonel Mellish lost an enormous sum. Nevertheless, as
a judge of racing there was no man held to be his equal. If indeed
judgment in such matters could preserve any one from ruin, then Mellish
should have kept his fortune. Endowed with mental qualities far above
those possessed by most sporting men, the owner of Blyth soon attained
a remarkable knowledge of the intricacies of the Turf, and the best
judges used to declare that they never knew a man who was better able
to gauge the powers, the qualities, and capabilities of the racer, as
well as the exact weights he could carry, and the precise distances he
could run. Unfortunately there was one side of the Turf life of his day
which he could not master, that was the rascality of those who took
care not to leave to accident the chances which made ultimate success
certain.
Colonel Mellish was not only a most excellent judge of a race-horse,
but well acquainted with all the intricacies of managing a
racing-stable. He was universally admitted to be possessed of an
extraordinary capacity for making matches, and as a handicapper was
declared to be supreme. A careful investigation, however, of the old
Racing Calendars from 1805 to 1807 hardly confirms such an estimate of
the Colonel's abilities in this direction. In those three years he won
38 and received forfeit for 15 matches, losing 57 and paying forfeit
for 31; that is, he won £11,505 and lost £18,600 in stakes. In addition
to this he must, of course, have lost very large sums in bets.
The most famous of all his matches was that between his Sancho and Lord
Darlington's Pavilion. There were really three matches. In the New
Claret Stakes at the Newmarket first Spring Meeting, 1805, Pavilion
beat Sancho and some other horses (6 to 4 Sancho, 7 to 1 Pavilion).
Mellish then challenged Lord Darlington, and a match was run in the
summer at Lewes--four miles for three thousand guineas, Buckle riding
Sancho and Chifney Pavilion. Sancho (the non-favourite, 2 to 1) won
easily. Another match was run over the same distance on the same course
for two thousand guineas, 6 to 4 on Sancho, who broke down badly.
Mellish on this occasion lost altogether five thousand guineas, though
at one moment before the race he had been offered twelve hundred to
have it off. A third match for two thousand guineas over a mile at
Brighton was made in the same year, but Sancho had to pay forfeit.
Colonel Mellish's colours were white with crimson sleeves. His trainer
was Bartle Atkinson, who from the time of entering his service in 1802,
till 1807, turned out what was probably a greater number of winners
than any other private trainer for one owner has ever done in the same
period of time. In 1804 and 1805 he won the St. Leger with Sancho and
Staveley, and trained many winners besides. In spite of all these
successes, racing proved most disastrous to the Colonel's fortune, and
like the vast majority of racing-men of this stamp, he left the Turf a
ruined man. In his palmy days it is said that he never opened his mouth
to make a bet under £500.
He wanted to be everything at once, and as the saying went, he was "at
all in the ring"; till by deep play, by racing and expenses of every
kind, and in every place, he found it necessary to part with his
estate in order to satisfy the demands which obsessed him on all sides.
Though the most popular of men, Colonel Mellish once had a serious
altercation with the Honourable Martin Hawke, and the result was a
duel, when the following conversation is said to have occurred--it
shows the light-hearted spirit of the combatants.
_Mellish._ "Take care of yourself, Hawke, for by --- I shall hit you."
_Hawke._ "I will, my lad, and let me recommend you to take care of your
own canister!"
The seconds, on hearing this, agreed that they should not take aim,
but fire by signal, which was done. The Colonel missed, but Hawke's
shot took effect, by passing round the rim of his opponent's stomach,
and eventually penetrating his left arm; on which Mellish exclaimed,
"Hawke, you have winged me! Lend me your neckcloth to tie up the broken
pinion!" This was immediately complied with, and the arm being bound
up, they both returned in the same chaise, as good friends as ever!
This duel was fought in 1807 in a field by the roadside, and originated
in a quarrel about the Yorkshire election, from which both duellists
were returning in their drags.
Mellish would appear to have run a great risk of being killed, for
the Honourable Martin Hawke was a singularly gifted man and could do
incredible things with a pistol. Indeed his skill in that direction was
probably never equalled. His nerve and courage were of the highest
order.
Mr. Hawke once fought a duel near Brussels with a certain Baron
Smieten. Whilst the seconds were measuring out the distance, he amused
himself by drawing a mail-coach with his stick on the bank of a sandy
ditch. One of the seconds, a guardsman, came up just as the finishing
touches were being put to the coachman's whip, and said "All's ready,"
to which Hawke replied, "Just let me put the lash to this fellow's
whip." Having touched off this, he instantly proceeded to touch up his
antagonist, mentioning that as he had put him to so much trouble (they
fought over the frontiers) he must give him a touch, but would content
himself with spoiling his waltzing for a little; naming where and how
he would operate--and this he did to a hairbreadth.
At one time the patron of all the superior pugilists, Colonel Mellish
first brought many of them into notice. He arranged the first battle
ever fought by the famous Tom Cribb, who was matched by the Colonel
against Nicholl, who beat him. Unfortunately for his gallant backer,
Cribb on this occasion entered the ring very drunk, and, of course,
fell an easy prey to an antagonist whom in future days the champion
of England would have beaten in ten minutes. Colonel Mellish likewise
made the match betwixt Gully and the Game Chicken; the former of whom
he caused to "give in," much against his inclination. The Colonel's
humanity on this occasion cost him a large sum, as he had backed Gully
heavily. Nevertheless, he insisted upon his yielding, the man being
reduced to such a state of weakness that his supporter was afraid of an
accidental blow proving fatal.
At the time of the Peninsular campaign a regular crisis occurred
in Mellish's affairs, and Sir Rowland Ferguson appointed him his
aide-de-camp, and he went out to Spain. Previous to the battle of
Vimeiro, as the general officers were dining together, one of them
observed to Sir Rowland Ferguson that if the thing were not impossible,
he should have declared that an officer he had seen was a gentleman
whom he had left a week or two ago in the cockpit at York, with cocks
engaged in the main there--his name he had understood was Mr. Mellish.
"The very same man," returned Sir Rowland, "he is now my aide-de-camp,
and I think you will say, when you have the opportunity of knowing more
of him, a better officer will not be found," and this proved to be
the case. On many different occasions, indeed, the Duke of Wellington
declared that a better aide-de-camp than Mellish he had never observed.
The undaunted manner with which he encountered danger, the quickness
with which he rode, and the precision with which he delivered his
orders, never making any mistake in any moment of hurry or confusion,
were circumstances which excited much favourable comment from friend
and foe alike.
After the battle of Busaco, Colonel Mellish was sent with a flag
of truce to the French head-quarters, on a message respecting some
prisoners. On his arrival at Leiria, Massena invited him to dinner, and
treated him with great attention and respect.
After remaining some time with the army abroad, Colonel Mellish
returned home, and after that period engaged no more in military
duties. According to rumour his return was owing to the resumption of
his former habits of play, which the Duke of Wellington had forbidden;
but this is not certain.
The Prince Regent, who was so often accused of forgetting those who
had served him, certainly did not justify this reproach in the case of
Colonel Mellish; for on his having obtained a small appointment abroad
in one of the conquered islands, the Prince made him his equerry, in
order to enable him to enjoy the emoluments of it whilst remaining at
home.
In addition to this the uncles of the Colonel, who had undertaken the
management of his property when he was abroad, enabled him, by their
arrangements, to take up his abode at Hodsock Priory, where he had
occasionally lived before, and where at a comparatively early age he
ended his days. On his way to this farm he had to pass the magnificent
mansion and domain of Blyth, the seat of his ancestors and formerly his
own, which the vicissitudes of a Turf career had obliged him to sell.
Colonel Mellish, however, accepted his lot with considerable
equanimity, and lived at his somewhat modest abode without any
mortifying regrets. Having married one of the daughters of the
Marchioness of Lansdowne,[8] who brought him a very handsome fortune,
his circumstances again became easy, and he was enabled to indulge in
those rural pursuits which appear early and late to have been congenial
to his disposition. He took to coursing and established a fine stud
of greyhounds. He also bred cattle with great success, winning many
prizes at northern cattle shows, and obtaining high prices for his
stock, and more fortunate than most men of his disposition and tastes,
ended his life in comfort and peace. His death, however, occurred
at a comparatively early age, for he fell a victim to dropsy in his
thirty-seventh year.
Another gallant sporting man, though of quite another description, was
the Anglo-Indian Colonel John Mordaunt, a natural son of the Earl of
Peterborough.
John Mordaunt, as a boy, was too wild to learn much at school, his
whole time being devoted to playing the truant; as he often said,
"one half of his days were spent in being flogged for the other
half." Devoted to cards from youth, he received many a castigation
in consequence. "You may shuffle, Mordaunt, but I can cut," was the
remark made to him by his schoolmaster on more than one occasion.
In consequence of this unsatisfactory behaviour, when the boy left
school he was about as learned as when he first was sent there. His
guardians were very much annoyed at this and blamed his master, upon
which young Mordaunt very handsomely stepped forward to exculpate the
latter, whose attention he declared to have been unparalleled. Slipping
off his clothes, he exhibited the earnestness of the good man's
endeavours; humorously observing, that as nothing could be got into his
brains, his master had done his best to impress his instructions on the
opposite seat of learning.
When the moment came for the youth to pass muster before the India
directors he could not be found, and it was nearly too late when he was
at last discovered playing marbles in Dean's Yard. No time, however,
was wasted in driving him up to Leadenhall Street, where, more bent on
frivolity than on answering the grave questions put by his examiners,
he was near being rejected as an idiot, when one of the quorum, who
understood such a disposition well and who probably wished to see John
appointed, asked him if he understood cribbage. In an instant young
Mordaunt's attention was thoroughly roused, his eyes glistened, and
regardless of every matter relative to his appointment, he pulled out a
pack of cards, so greasy as scarcely to be distinguished, and offered
"to play the gentleman _for any sum he chose_!"
The youth now felt himself at home, and speedily convinced his
examiners that, however ignorant he might be of the classics, he was
a match for any of them at cards! He was passed, and despatched to
Portsmouth to embark on an Indiaman ready to sail with the first fair
wind; but as there seemed no likelihood of this for some days, the
person who had charge of him put him on board and returned to town.
Needless to say, Mordaunt at once got away to shore, where he played a
number of pranks before the ship eventually set sail.