Gambling—Downfall of Lady Archer, &c.—Card playing in the Royal
Circle—Card money—High play—Play at the Clubs—Lotteries—The
method of drawing them—Horse racing—Turf and horses better than
now—Curious names of race horses—Ladies Lade and Thornton—Lady
Thornton’s races—Tattersall and Aldridge.
ONE VICE the women of that age had, in common with the men, and that
was Gambling—which, perhaps, was not so bad among the former, as
during the last years of the preceding century, when Ladies Archer,
and Buckinghamshire, and Mrs. Concannon were pilloried, and scourged
metaphorically by the Satirists, as they were promised to be treated,
physically, by Lord Kenyon. Their race was run—as expressed in the
_Morning Post_, January 15, 1800: “Society has reason to rejoice in
the complete downfall of the Faro Dames, who were so long the disgrace
of human nature. Their _die_ is cast, and their _odd tricks_ avail
no longer. The _game_ is up, and very few of them have _cut_ with
_honours_.”
Mrs. Concannon still kept on, but not in London, as is seen by the
following paragraph. _Morning Herald_, December 18, 1802: “The visitors
to Mrs. Concannon’s _petits soupers_, at _Paris_, are not attracted
by _billets_ previously circulated, but by _cards_, afterwards _dealt
out_, in an elegant and scientific manner; not to mince the matter,
they are the rendezvous of _deep play_: and the only questionable point
about the matter is, whether the _Irish_, or the _French_, will prove
victors at the close of so desperate a winter’s campaign.”
Still, we find even in the Royal circle, where the utmost gravity of
demeanour, and purity of manner, were to be found, the card table was
_the_ evening’s amusement. “The evening is, as usual, passed at cards,
in the Queen’s Drawing Room, where three tables are set out.” And cards
were still the staple entertainment both for men and women, at night.
Naturally, the latter did not play for such high stakes as the men
did; but they contrived to make, or lose, a sufficient sum, either to
elate, or to depress them, and experience, as far as in them lay, all
the fierce feelings of the gambler. Nay, some made a pitiful profit out
of their friends—in the shape of “card money”—which meant that the
players put so much, every game, into a pool (generally the snuffer
tray) to pay for the cards, and something for the servants.
It was a practice in its death throes, having been mortally wounded, by
public opinion, at the end of the last century; but the little meanness
still obtained—_vide_ the _Morning Herald_, December 15, 1802: “In a
pleasant village near the Metropolis, noted for its constant ‘tea and
turn out parties,’ the extortion of _Card Money_ had, lately, risen to
such a pitch, that it was no unusual thing for the _Lady_ of the House,
upon the breaking up of a table, to immediately examine the sub-cargo
of the candlestick, and, previous to the departure of her guests,
proclaim aloud the lamentable defalcation of a pitiful shilling, which
they might, perchance, have forgot to _contribute_. We are happy
to find that some of the most respectable people in the place have
resolved to discountenance and abolish this _shabby genteel_ custom,
which has too long prevailed; a shameful degradation of everything like
English hospitality.”
But they sometimes played as high as did the opposite sex—the climax,
perhaps, coming in the following, from the _Morning Post_, April 5,
1805: “The sum lately lost at play by a Lady of high rank is variously
stated. Some say it does not amount to more than £200,000, while others
assert that it is little short of £700,000. Her Lord is very unhappy on
the occasion, and is still undecided with respect to the best mode to
be adopted in the unfortunate predicament.”
The men lost and gained large sums of a night; and, for that age,
gaming had reached its climax. Little birds whisper[51] that it is
not much better now; but, at all events, it is not so open. From the
highest to the lowest—from the Heir Apparent, and the two great
leaders of party, Fox and Pitt, down to the man who could only afford
to punt his shilling, or half-crown, at a “silver hell”—all were
bitten, more or less, by this mania of gaming. The magistrates lashed
the petty rogues when they were caught, but winked discreetly at the
West-end Clubs, and ordered no raids upon them. There they might win or
lose their thousands, secure that the law would not stretch out its arm
to molest them. There the nobility, legislators, country gentlemen, and
officers of the army, met together on a common footing, to worship the
Demon of Play.
There were three principal Clubs—White’s, Brookes’, and Boodles’.
White’s was originally a “Chocolate House” in William the Third’s time,
but became a private club early in the eighteenth century, and was used
by the Tories. It was a club always noted for high play and betting,
and very curious some of their bets were, the old wager book being
still preserved. Brookes’ was the Whig Club, and was then conducted by
that
“liberal Brookes, whose speculative skill
Is hasty credit and a distant bill;
Who, nurs’d in Clubs, disdains a vulgar trade,
Exults to trust, and blushes to be paid.”
Among the members of this club were the Prince of Wales, and, of
course, his _fidus Achates_, Sheridan, besides the great Charles James
Fox, who here played deeply, and whose name is oft recorded in the
wager book, which, however, is of older date, and was kept when the
club was held at Almack’s.
“Lord Northington bets Mr. C. Fox, June 4, 1774, that he (Mr. C. F.) is
not called to the bar before this day four years.”
“March 11, 1775. Lord Bolinbroke gives a guinea to Mr. Charles Fox and
is to receive a thousand from him whenever the debt of this country
amounts to 171 millions. Mr. Fox is not to pay the £1,000 till he is
one of His Majesty’s Cabinet.”
“April 7, 1792. Mr. Sheridan bets Lord Lauderdale and Lord Thanet,
twenty-five guineas each, that Parliament will not consent to any more
lotteries after the present one voted to be drawn in February next.”
[Illustration: GREAT SUBSCRIPTION ROOM AT BROOKES’S.]
At all the clubs, gaming was practised more or less. _Morning Herald_,
June 16, 1804: “A noble Lord, lately high in office, and who manifests
a strong inclination to be reinstated in his political power, lost at
the UNION, a night or two back 4,000 guineas before twelve o’clock;
but, continuing to play, his luck took a turn, and he rose a winner of
a thousand before five the next morning.”
Again, to show the large sums then won and lost at gambling, take the
following newspaper cuttings.
_Morning Post_, June 30, 1806: “The Marquis of H———— d is said to have
been so successful at play this season, as to have cleared £60,000. The
Earl of B———— e has won upwards of £50,000, clear of all deductions. A
Right Reverend is stated to be amongst those who are _minus_ on this
occasion.”
_Morning Post_, July 8, 1806: “A certain noble Marquis, who has been so
very fortunate this season in his gaming speculations, had a run of ill
luck last week. At one sitting, his lordship was _minus_ no less a sum
than _thirteen thousand pounds_!”
_Morning Post_, July 15, 1806: “The noble Marquis, who has been so
great a gainer, this season, at _hazard_, never plays with any one,
from a PRINCE, to a _Commoner_, without having the stakes _first_ laid
on the table. His lordship was always considered as a _sure card_,
but now his fame is established, from the circumstance of his having
cleared £35,000, after deducting all his losses for the last six
months.”
But, although the magistrates shut their eyes to the sins of the great,
and punished the small, when brought before them, the Government
systematically demoralized the people by means of lotteries. True,
it was a great temptation, for it yielded a revenue to the State of
about £350,000, besides the licenses of the brokers, £50 each. Very
jealous was the Government to protect its children from the pernicious
effects of private lotteries; they were _anathema_, and, besides, they
would absorb some of the profit, which otherwise would have gone into
the pockets of a paternal rule. In this decade, there were but two
private lotteries, and, for both of them, a special act of Parliament
was required, viz., that of the Pigot diamond in 1800, and Boydell’s
pictures in 1805.
This illustration is by Pyne, and, like all his drawing, is extremely
graphic. It represents the Life Guards, who then had to perform many of
the duties of our police, conveying the Lottery wheels, from Somerset
House (or Somerset Place, as it was then called) to Cooper’s Hall, in
Basinghall Street, where the Lottery was then drawn. There were four
sledges employed for the purpose, two carrying the wheels containing
the tickets, with their blanks, or prizes, and the other two bore the
cases for the wheels. They were drawn by three horses each.
[Illustration: LIFE GUARDS ESCORTING A LOTTERY WHEEL.]
For many years the Lottery had been drawn at Guildhall, but it was
afterwards removed to Cooper’s Hall. At both places the tickets were
drawn out of the wheels by two scholars of Christ’s Hospital, or
Bluecoat boys—who were thus selected for this office because their
youth, and supposed integrity,[52] rendered them less liable than
other boys, to be tampered with. The accompanying illustration gives a
very life-like presentment of the scene.
The last public Lottery, in England, was drawn in October, 1826.
[Illustration: DRAWING THE LOTTERY AT COOPER’S HALL.]
Needless to say that Gambling, either in the form of card playing,
dicing, or lotteries, was not the only way that fools and rogues could
throw away their money. Still there were two resources left—the Turf,
and Cock-fighting. The Turf was undoubtedly purer then than now,
when it has reached such a pitch of refinement in blackguardism, and
scoundrelism, that it must soon either be swept away, or violently
reformed. Racing then was more for encouraging a breed of horses,
swift, yet of such staying powers as to be able to run a four-mile heat
without breaking down: not like our “exaggerated greyhounds,” who can
barely stagger over a course of six furlongs, or three quarters of a
mile.
The stakes were not so high, and although there was much betting on
a race, yet it was among the upper class, or men who could afford to
lose to each other, and in the society of their equals; and not as at
present, when a lord is on familiar terms with a ruffian, so long as
he will give the odds required, and may possibly be able to pay if he
loses; nor, then, did shop boys make books on races, or talk learnedly
of double events, &c., and such scenes as can now be witnessed any race
day in Fleet Street, were utterly unknown, and undreamt of. A King’s
plate of £100 was then considered worth running for, and noblemen, and
gentlemen, matched their horses one against the other, in a proper
spirit of emulation.
There was a fair amount of racing literature—“Baily’s Racing
Register,” “Pick’s Racing Calendar,” “The Turf Register,” “The Racing
Calendar,” and “The Sporting Magazine,” and I know, and care not,
whether this is an exhaustive list. From some of them we get some
curious names of race horses, for their owners then, seem to have run
riot in the nomenclature of their animals. What should we say nowadays
to such names as “Kiss in a Corner,” “Jack, come tickle me,” “Jenny,
come tye me,” “I am little, pity my condition,” “Jack’s my favourite,”
“Britons, strike home,” “Why do you slight me?” “Turn about, Tommy,”
“Sweeter when clothed,” “Watch them and Catch them,” “First time of
Asking,” “Fear not, Victorious,” “Hop, step, and jump,” &c., &c.
As a curious incident of manners in the early century, I may mention
that two ladies, Lady Lade and Mrs. Thornton (wife of Col. Thornton),
both rode matches in public. Mrs. Thornton’s brother-in-law, Mr. Flint,
was stopping at the Colonel’s seat of Thornville, and riding with the
lady in its grounds. They had a gallop, and Mrs. Thornton’s old horse,
aided by her good riding, beat her antagonist, which so nettled him,
that he challenged her to a further trial, which took place publicly,
on the last day of the York August Meeting, 1804. Mrs. Thornton’s horse
broke down, and she lost; but she did not omit to wail publicly over
the matter, asserting that otherwise she would have won, and that her
opponent took unfair advantage of her.
This exhibition of herself seems to have fired her ambition, for we
read in the _Morning Post_, August 20, 1805:
“Mrs. Thornton is to ride 9 st. against Mr. Bromford, who is to ride 13
st., over the York Course, four miles; to run the last race on Saturday
in the next August meeting, for four hogsheads of Coti Roti p.p. and
2,000 guineas h. ft.; and Mrs. T. bets Mr. B. 700 gs. to 600 gs. p.p.;
the 2,000 gs. h. ft. provided it is declared to the Stewards four days
before starting. Mrs. T. to have her choice of four horses.
“Mr. B. to ride Allegro, sister to Allegranti.
“N.B. Colonel T., or any gentleman he may name, to be permitted to
follow the lady over the course, to assist her in case of any accident.”
When it came to the pinch, Mr. Bromford declined the race, paid his
forfeit, and the lady walked over. Later in the day, however, she raced
Buckle, a jockey, mounted on Allegro—carrying 13 st. 6 lb., whilst
Mrs. Thornton scaled 9 st. 6 lb.—and she beat the professional by half
a neck. This match does not seem to have been for any money, but merely
for the honour of the thing.
Before quitting the subject of horses, I cannot help mentioning
that both Tattersall, and Aldridge, were in existence, as equine
auctioneers, a position which, their thorough integrity has
consolidated, and preserved to the present day.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]