CHAPTER XX.

The last lottery--Attempts to get up excitement--The

procession--Alteration of date--Advertising car--

“A Ballad, 1826”--Drawing of the last lottery.

But the lamp was to flicker once more before it finally died out, and a

“last lottery” was decreed to be drawn in 1826. In the spring, and for

three weeks after midsummer of that year, the lottery-office keepers

incessantly plied every man, woman, and child, in the United Kingdom

and its dependencies, with petitions to make a fortune in “the last

lottery that can be drawn.” Men paraded the streets with large printed

placards on poles, or pasted on their backs, announcing “All Lotteries

End for Ever! 18th of July.” The walls were plastered all over with

posters, and handbills thrust into the hands of street-passengers,

besides being left at every house, containing the same heart-rending

announcement, and with the solemn assurance that the demand for

tickets and shares was immense! The prices had so risen, were so

rising, and would be so far beyond all calculation, that, to get

shares, or tickets at all, they must be instantly purchased! As the

time approached, a show was got up to proclaim that the deplorable

“Death of the Lottery” would certainly take place on the appointed

day; but, on some account or other, the pathetic appeal of the

benevolent contractors was disregarded. At length, finding that it

could not be floated by the 18th of July, the stony-hearted public were

“respectfully” informed that “the Lords of the Treasury had issued

a _reprieve_,” and that the “drawing” and “quartering,” etc., was

postponed till some day in October, “when lotteries will finish for

ever.” Here is a handbill relating to the 18th of July:--

[Illustration]

“What’s the odds?--while I am floundering here the gold

fish will be gone; and as I always was a dab at hooking

the right Numbers, I must cast for a Share of the

SIX £30,000 on the 18th JULY, for it is but 'giving

a Sprat to catch a Herring,’ as a body may say, and it

is the last chance we shall have in England.”

We can scarcely do better than follow Hone’s contemporary account of

this “last lottery;” it is so fresh, being written at the time.

“Incredible efforts were made in the summer of 1826 to keep the 'last

lottery’ on its legs. The price of tickets was arbitrarily raised, to

induce a belief that they were in great demand, at the very moment

when their sale was notoriously at a stand; and the lagging attention

of the public of the Metropolis was endeavoured to be quickened by all

sorts of stratagems, to the 18th of July, as the very last chance that

would occur in England of gaining 'Six £30,000 besides other Capitals,’

which it was positively affirmed were 'all to be drawn’ on that fatal

day. Besides the dispersal of innumerable bills, and the aspersions on

Government relative to the approaching extinction of the Lottery, the

parties interested in its preservation caused London and its environs

to be paraded by the following

_Procession._

“1. Three men in liveries, scarlet and gold.

“2. Six men bearing boards at their backs and on

their breasts, with inscriptions in blue and gold,

'All Lotteries end on Tuesday next,’ six £30,000.

“3. Band of trumpets, clarionets, horns, etc.

“4. A large purple silk banner carried by six

men, inscribed in large gold letters, 'All Lotteries

end for ever on Tuesday next,’ six £30,000.

“5. A painted carriage, representing the Lottery

Wheel, drawn by two dappled grey horses, tandem

fashion; the fore horse rode by a postillion in

scarlet and gold, with a black velvet cap, and a

boy seated in a dickey behind the machine, turning

the handle, and setting the wheel in motion.

“6. Six men with other Lottery Labels.

“7. A square Lottery Carriage, surmounted by

a gilt Imperial Crown; the carriage covered by

labels, with 'All Lotteries end on Tuesday next;’

drawn by two horses, tandem, and a postillion.

“8. Six men with labels.

“9. Twelve men in blue and gold, with boards on

poles, with 'Lotteries end for ever on Tuesday next.’

“10. A large purple silk flag, with 'All Lotteries

end on Tuesday next.’

“This procession, with its music, drew the heads of the servant-maids

to the windows in every suburb of the metropolis, and was followed by

troops of boys, till they tired of its frequency. It sometimes stopped,

and a man with a bell cried 'O yes!’ and 'God save the King!’ and,

between the two, proclaimed, in set words, the 'Death of the Lottery on

Tuesday next!’ The event was likewise announced as certain in all the

Newspapers, and by cart-loads of bills showered down areas, and thrust

under knockers; when, behold, 'the Lords of the Treasury were pleased

to order’ the final drawing to be postponed to Thursday, the 18th of

October; but all the good people so informed, were wisely uninformed

that this 'order’ was obtained by the lottery folks, to give them a

long day to get rid of their unsold tickets.

[Illustration]

“After this, the streets were cavalcaded by men, whose bodies were

concealed between long boards on each side of their horses to announce

the _next_ 'last of the Lottery on the 18th of October’ aforesaid; and

men on foot walked with labels on their breasts and backs, with the

same never-dying intelligence, according to the further figure in the

engraving of the lottery wheel, which represents one of the Government

Wheels, and the sledge it was drawn upon from Somerset House to

Cooper’s Hall, at the commencement of the drawing of every lottery; on

which occasion there were four horses to each wheel, and about a dozen

Horseguards to protect the instruments of _Miss_ Fortune.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

“But the most pageant-like machine was an octagon framework, covered

by printed lottery placards, with a single horse, and a driver, and a

guard-like seat at the back. When drawn along the streets, which was

at a most funereal pace, it overtopped the sills of the first-floor

windows. Its slow motion, and the route it chiefly took, evidenced the

_low_ hopes of the proprietors. St. Giles’s and the purlieus of that

neighbourhood seem to have been selected as the favoured spots, whence

favours were mostly to be expected. An opportunity offered to sketch

it, while it was pelted with mud and stones, and torn and disfigured by

the unappreciating offspring of the sons of fortune whose regards it

courted.

“The Artist’s letter describes the scene: 'As I was walking up

Holborn, on Monday, the 9th instant, I saw a strange vehicle moving

slowly on; and, when I came up to it, found a machine, perhaps from

twenty to thirty feet high, of an octagon shape, covered all over with

lottery papers of various colours. It had a broad brass band round

the bottom, and moved on a pivot; it had a very _imposing_ effect.

The driver and the horse seemed as dull as though they were attending

a solemn funeral, whilst the different shopkeepers came to the doors

and laughed; some of the people passing and repassing, read the bills

that were pasted on it, as if they had never read one before; others

stationed themselves to look at it as long as it was in sight. It

entered Monmouth Street, that den of filth and rags, where so great

a number of young urchins gathered together in a few minutes as to

be astonishing. There being an empty chair behind, one of them seated

himself in it, and rode backwards; another said 'Let’s have a stone

through it,’ and a third cried, 'Let’s sludge it.’ This was no sooner

proposed than they threw stones, oyster shells and dirt, and burst

several of the sheets; this attack brought the driver from his seat,

and he was obliged to walk by the side of his machine up this foul

street, which his show canvassed, halting now and then to threaten

the boys, who still followed and threw. I made a sketch, and left the

scene. It was not an every-day occurrence, and I accompany it with

these remarks.’

“This was the fag-end of the last struggle of the speculators on public

credulity for popularity to their last dying lottery.”

“A BALLAD, 1826.

A lazy sot grew sober

By looking at his troubles,

For he found out how

He work’d his woe,

By playing with Lott’ry bubbles.

And just before October,

The _grand_ contractors, zealous,

To _share_ their _last_ ills,

With puffs and bills,

Drove all the quack-doctors jealous.

Their _bill_ and _cue_ carts slowly

Paced Holborn and Long Acre,

Like a funeral

Not mourn’d at all,

The burying an Undertaker.

Clerks smiled, and whisper’d lowly;

'This is the time, or never,

There must be a rise--

Buy and be wise,

Or your chance is gone for ever.’

Yet, of the shares and tickets,

Spite of all arts to sell ’em,

There were more unsold

Than dare be told;

Although, if I knew, I’d tell ’em.

And so, worn out with rickets,

The _last_ 'Last Lott’ry’ expired;

And then there were cries--

'We’ve gained a _prize_

By the _loss_ we’ve so long desired.’

The lott’ry drew the humble

Often aside from his labour,

To build in the air,

And, dwelling there,

He beggar’d himself and neighbour.

If the scheme-makers tumble

Down to their proper station,

They must starve, or work,

Turn thief, or Turk,

Or hang, for the good of the nation.”

“At last, on Wednesday, the 18th of October, 1826, the State Lottery

expired, and its decease was announced in the newspapers of the next

day, by the following article:--

STATE LOTTERY.

“Yesterday afternoon, at about half-past six o’clock, that old servant

of the State, the Lottery, breathed its last, having for a long period

of years, ever since the days of Queen Anne, contributed largely

towards the public revenue of the country. This event took place at

Cooper’s Hall, Basinghall Street; and, such was the anxiety on the

part of the public to witness the last drawing of the lottery, that

great numbers of persons were attracted to the spot, independently of

those who had an interest in the proceedings. The gallery of Cooper’s

Hall was crowded to excess long before the period fixed for the

drawing (five o’clock), and the utmost anxiety was felt by those who

had shares in the Lottery, for the arrival of the appointed hour.

The annihilation of Lotteries, it will be recollected, was determined

upon in the Session of Parliament before last; and thus, a source of

revenue, bringing into the treasury the sums of £250,000 and £300,000

per annum, will be dried up.

“This determination on the part of the legislature is hailed, by far

the greatest portion of the public, with joy, as it will put an end to

a system which many believe to have fostered and encouraged the late

speculations, the effects of which have been and are still severely

felt. A deficiency in the public revenue, to the extent of £250,000

annually, will, however, be the consequence of the annihilation of

Lotteries, and it must remain for those who have strenuously supported

the putting a stop to Lotteries, to provide for the deficiency.

“Although that which ended yesterday was the last, if we are informed

correctly, the lottery-office keepers have been left with a great

number of tickets remaining on their hands--a pretty strong proof that

the public, in general, have now no relish for these schemes.

“The concourse of persons in Basinghall Street was very great; indeed,

the street was almost impassable, and everybody seemed desirous

of ascertaining the fortunate numbers. In the gallery the greatest

interest was excited, as the various prizes were drawn from the wheel;

and, as soon as a number ticket was drawn from the number wheel, every

one looked with anxiety to his share, in order to ascertain if Fortune

smiled on him. Only one instance occurred where a prize was drawn, and

a number held by any individual present. The fortunate person was a

little man, who, no sooner had he learned that his number was a grand

prize, than he buttoned up his coat, and coolly walked off, without

uttering a word. As the drawing proceeded, disappointment began to

succeed the hopes indulged by those who were present. On their entrance

to the hall, every face wore a cheerful appearance; but, on the

termination of the drawing, a strong contrast was exhibited, and the

features of each were strongly marked with dissatisfaction.

“The drawing commenced shortly after five o’clock, and ended at twenty

minutes past six.

“The doors of the various Lottery Offices were surrounded by persons

awaiting the issue of the drawing.”

A history of English lotteries · 第 20 / 25 章