Piazza, Covent Garden, for and as an Assembly, where all persons of
credit are at liberty to frequent and play at such diversions as are
used at other Assemblys. And I have hired Joseph Dewberry, William
Horsely, Ham Cropper, and George Sanders, as my servants, or managers,
(under me) thereof. I have given them orders to direct the management
of the other inferior servants, (namely) John Bright, Richard Davis,
John Hill, John Vandenvoren, as box-keepers. Gilbert Richardson,
housekeeper, John Chaplain, regulator, William Stanley and Henry
Huggins, servants that wait on the Company at the said Assembly,
William Penny and Joseph Penny, as porters thereof. And all the above
mentioned persons I claim as my domestick servants, and demand all
those privileges that belong to me, as a Peeress of Great Britain,
appertaining to my said Assembly. M. MORDINGTON. Dated 8 Jan. 1745.’
Resolved and declared that no Person is entitled to Privilege of
Peerage against any prosecution, or proceeding, for keeping any public
or common gaming house, or any house, room, or place for playing at any
game, or games prohibited by any law now in force.”
These ladies had already been presented by the Grand Jury for the
County of Middlesex on 10 May 1744, together with the proprietors of
the avenues leading to and from the several Playhouses in Covent Garden
and Drury Lane, the proprietors of Sadler’s Wells, and the proprietors
of New Wells in Goodman’s Fields, The London Spaw, Clerkenwell, and
Halden’s New Theatre, in May Fair.
One of the most curious anecdotes of gambling, about this date, is the
following[26]:—“1735. Oct. A child of James and Elizabeth Leesh of
Chester le street, was played for at cards, at the sign of the Salmon,
one game, four shillings against the child, by Henry and John Trotter,
Robert Thomson and Thomas Ellison, which was won by the latter, and
delivered to them accordingly.”
The law was occasionally put in motion, as we find. “_Gent. Mag._, Oct.
31, 1750. About 9 o’clock at night, a party of soldiers and constables,
with proper warrants, enter’d a notorious gaming house, behind the
_Hoop_ tavern in the _Strand_, and seiz’d 36 gamblers, and carry’d them
to the vestry room at _St Martin’s_, where the justices were sitting
for that purpose; 21 of them, next morning, for want of bail, were
committed to the _Gatehouse_, and the others bound in a recognizance of
£80, to answer at the next Sessions; the fine gaming tables, which cost
£200, were chopt to pieces, and a great part burnt.”
“Feb. 1, 1751. Justice _Fielding_ having received information of a
rendezvous of gamesters in the _Strand_, procured a strong party of
guards, who seized 45 at the table, which they broke to pieces, and
carry’d the gamesters before the justice, who committed 39 of them to
the _Gatehouse_ and admitted the other 6 to bail. There were three
tables broken to pieces, which cost near £60 apiece; under each of them
were observed two iron rollers, and two private springs, which those
who were in the secret could touch, and stop the turning whenever they
had any youngsters to deal with, and, so, cheated them of their money.”
“Ap. 17, 1751. _Thomas Lediard_, Esq., attended by a constable and
a party of guards, went this night to the Long Room, in James St.,
Westminster, where there was a Masquerade, in order to suppress the
notorious practice of gaming, for which such assemblies are calculated.
The whole was conducted without opposition, or mischief. Seventeen
were committed to the gatehouse, some were discharged, and others gave
sufficient bail, never to play at any unlawful game, or resort to any
gaming house. Numbers escaped over the Park wall, and other places,
notwithstanding the vigilance of the magistrate and his assistants. The
gaming tables were broke to pieces.”
We have many instances of the industry and vigilance of the London
magistrates, especially Fielding, who, in 1756, wrote a warning to the
public,[27] entitled “The artifices and stratagems of the profligate
and wicked part of the inhabitants of this great metropolis, in order
to defraud and impose upon the weak and unwary, being multiplied to
an incredible degree, _Mr Fielding_ has taken the pains to lay before
the public a detail of such of them as have fallen under his own
immediate observation as a Magistrate: in the recital of which he has
mark’d the progress of deceit from the lowest pickpocket to the most
accomplish’d gambler. That none may be in ignorance of the snares that
are continually laid for them, this history of Gambling is inserted.”
And in _Ferdinand Count Fathom_, by Smollett, Fielding’s contemporary
and brother novelist, we have a full description of a professional
gambler’s life.
CHAPTER IV
Gambling at Bath—Beau Nash—Anecdotes of him—A lady gambler—Horace
Walpole’s gossip about gambling—Awful story about Richard
Parsons—Gambling anecdotes—C. J. Fox.
Nor was it only in London that this gambling fever existed: it equally
polluted the quieter resorts of men, and at fashionable watering
places, like Bath, it was rampant, as Oliver Goldsmith writes in his
life of Beau Nash, of whom he tells several anecdotes connected with
play. “When he first figured at _Bath_, there were few laws against
this destructive amusement. The gaming table was the constant resource
of despair and indigence, and the frequent ruin of opulent fortunes.
Wherever people of fashion came, needy adventurers were generally found
in waiting. With such Bath swarmed, and, among this class, Mr Nash was
certainly to be numbered in the beginning; only, with this difference,
that he wanted the corrupt heart, too commonly attending a life of
expedients; for he was generous, humane, and honourable, even though,
by profession, a gambler.”
A thousand instances might be given of his integrity, even in this
infamous profession, where his generosity often impelled him to act in
contradiction to his interest. Wherever he found a novice in the hands
of a sharper, he generally forewarned him of the danger; whenever he
found any inclined to play, yet ignorant of the game, he would offer
his services, and play for them. I remember an instance to this effect,
though too nearly concerned in the affair to publish the gentleman’s
name of whom it is related.
In the year 1725, there came to Bath a giddy youth, who had just
resigned his fellowship at Oxford. He brought his whole fortune with
him there; it was but a trifle, however, he was resolved to venture it
all. Good fortune seemed kinder than could be expected. Without the
smallest skill in play, he won a sum sufficient to make any unambitious
man happy. His desire of gain increasing with his gains, in the October
following he was _at all_, and added four thousand pounds to his
former capital. Mr Nash, one night, after losing a considerable sum
to this undeserving son of fortune, invited him to supper. Sir, cried
this honest, though veteran gamester, perhaps you may imagine I have
invited you, in order to have my revenge at home; but, sir, I scorn
such an inhospitable action. I desired the favour of your company to
give you some advice, which, you will pardon me, sir, you seem to
stand in need of. You are now high in spirits, and drawn away by a
torrent of success. But, there will come a time, when you will repent
having left the calm of a college life for the turbulent profession of
a gamester. Ill runs will come, as certain as day and night succeed
each other. Be therefore advised; remain content with your present
gains; for, be persuaded that, had you the Bank of England, with your
present ignorance of gaming, it would vanish like a fairy dream. You
are a stranger to me; but, to convince you of the part I take in your
welfare, I’ll give you fifty guineas, to forfeit twenty, every time you
lose two hundred at one sitting. The young gentleman refused his offer,
and was at last undone!
“The late Duke of B. being chagrined at losing a considerable sum,
pressed Mr Nash to tie him up for the future from playing deep.
Accordingly, the beau gave his grace an hundred guineas, to forfeit
ten thousand, whenever he lost a sum, to the same amount, at play at
one sitting. The duke loved play to distraction; and, soon after, at
hazard, lost eight thousand guineas, and was going to throw for three
thousand more, when Nash, catching hold of the dice box, entreated his
grace to reflect upon the penalty if he lost. The duke, for that time,
desisted; but so strong was the furor of play upon him that, soon after
losing a considerable sum at Newmarket, he was contented to pay the
penalty.
“When the late Earl of T—— d was a youth, he was passionately
fond of play, and never better pleased than with having Mr Nash for
his antagonist. Nash saw, with concern, his lordship’s foible, and
undertook to cure him, though by a very disagreeable remedy. Conscious
of his own superior skill, he determined to engage him in single play
for a very considerable sum. His lordship, in proportion as he lost his
game, lost his temper, too; and, as he approached the gulph, seemed
still more eager for ruin. He lost his estate; some writings were put
into the winner’s possession: his very equipage deposited as a last
stake, and he lost that also. But, when our generous gamester had found
his lordship sufficiently punished for his temerity, he returned all,
only stipulating that he should be paid five thousand pounds whenever
he should think proper to make the demand. However, he never made
any such demand during his lordship’s life; but, some time after his
decease, Mr Nash’s affairs being in the wane, he demanded the money of
his lordship’s heirs, who honourably paid it without any hesitation.”
There is a sad story told of a lady gambler at Bath, which must
have occurred about this time, say 1750 or thereabouts. Miss Frances
Braddock, daughter of a distinguished officer, Maj.-Gen. Braddock,
was the admiration of the circle in which she moved. Her person was
elegant, her face beautiful, and her mind accomplished. Unhappily
for her, she spent a season at Bath, where she was courted by the
fashionables there present, for her taste was admirable and her wit
brilliant. Her father, at his death, bequeathed twelve thousand pounds
between her and her sister (a large amount in those days), besides a
considerable sum to her brother, Maj.-Gen. Braddock, who was, in the
American War, surrounded by Indians, and mortally wounded, dying 13th
July 1755. Four years after her father’s death, her sister died, by
which her fortune was doubled—but, alas! in the course of one short
month, she lost the whole; gambled away at cards.
It soon became known that she was penniless, and her sensitive spirit
being unable to brook the real and fictitious condolences, she robed
herself in maiden white, and, tying a gold and silver girdle together,
she hanged herself therewith, dying at the early age of twenty-three
years.
Gossiping Horace Walpole gives us many anecdotes of gambling in his
time, scattered among his letters to Sir Horace Mann, &c. In one of
them (Dec. 26, 1748), he tells a story of Sir William Burdett, of
whom he says; “in short, to give you his character at once, there is
a wager entered in the bet book at White’s (a MS. of which I may, one
day or other, give you an account), that the first baronet that will be
hanged, is this Sir William Burdett.”
The Baronet casually met Lord Castledurrow (afterwards Viscount
Ashbrook), and Captain (afterwards Lord) Rodney, “a young seaman, who
has made a fortune by very gallant behaviour during the war,” and he
asked them to dinner.
“When they came, he presented them to a lady, dressed foreign, as a
princess of the house of Brandenburg: she had a toad eater, and there
was another man, who gave himself for a count. After dinner, Sir
William looked at his watch, and said ‘J—— s! it is not so late as
I thought, by an hour; Princess, will your Highness say how we shall
divert ourselves till it is time to go to the play! ‘Oh!’ said she,
‘for my part, you know I abominate everything but Pharaoh.’ ‘I am very
sorry, Madam,’ replied he, very gravely, ‘but I don’t know whom your
Highness will get to tally to you; you know I am ruined by dealing.’
‘Oh!’ says she, ‘the Count will deal to us.’ ‘I would, with all my
soul,’ said the Count, ‘but I protest I have no money about me.’ She
insisted: at last the Count said, ‘Since your Highness commands us
peremptorily, I believe Sir William has four or five hundred pounds of
mine, that I am to pay away in the city to-morrow; if he will be so
good as to step to his bureau for that sum, I will make a bank of it.’
Mr Rodney owns he was a little astonished at seeing the Count shuffle
with the faces of the cards upwards; but, concluding that Sir William
Burdett, at whose house he was, was a relation, or particular friend of
Lord Castledurrow, he was unwilling to affront my lord. In short, my
lord and he lost about a hundred and fifty apiece, and it was settled
that they should meet for payment, the next morning, at Ranelagh. In
the meantime, Lord C. had the curiosity to inquire a little into the
character of his new friend, the Baronet; and being _au fait_, he went
up to him at Ranelagh, and apostrophised him; ‘Sir William, here is
the sum I think I lost last night; since that, I have heard that you
are a professed pickpocket, and, therefore, desire to have no farther
acquaintance with you.’ Sir William bowed, took the money and no
notice; but, as they were going away, he followed Lord Castledurrow,
and said, ‘Good God! my lord, my equipage is not come; will you be so
good as to set me down at Buckingham Gate?’ and, without waiting for
an answer, whipped into the chariot, and came to town with him. If you
don’t admire the coolness of this impudence, I shall wonder.”
“_10 Jan. 1750._ To make up for my long silence, and to make up a
long letter, I will string another story, which I have just heard,
to this. General Wade was at a low gaming house, and had a very fine
snuff-box, which, on a sudden, he missed. Everybody denied having taken
it: he insisted on searching the company. He did: there remained only
one man, who had stood behind him, but refused to be searched, unless
the General would go into another room, alone, with him. There the
man told him, that he was born a gentleman, was reduced, and lived by
what little bets he could pick up there, and by fragments which the
waiters sometimes gave him. ‘At this moment I have half a fowl in my
pocket; I was afraid of being exposed; here it is! Now, Sir, you may
search me.’ Wade was so struck, that he gave the man a hundred pounds;
and, immediately, the genius of generosity, whose province is almost a
sinecure, was very glad of the opportunity of making him find his own
snuff-box, or another very like it, in his own pocket again.”
“_19 Dec. 1750._ Poor Lord Lempster is more Cerberus[28] than ever;
(you remember his _bon mot_ that proved such a blunder;) he has lost
twelve thousand pounds at hazard, to an ensign of the guards.”
“_23 Feb. 1755._ The great event is the catastrophe of Sir John Bland,
who has _flirted_ away his whole fortune at hazard. He, t’other night,
exceeded what was lost by the late Duke of Bedford, having, at one
period of the night, (though he recovered the greatest part of it)
lost two and thirty thousand pounds. The citizens put on their double
channeled pumps, and trudge to St James’s Street, in expectation of
seeing judgments executed on White’s—angels with flaming swords,
and devils flying away with dice boxes, like the prints in Sadeler’s
Hermits.[29] Sir John lost this immense sum to a Captain Scott,[30]
who, at present, has nothing but a few debts and his commission.”
“_20 Ap. 1756._ I shall send you, soon, the fruits of my last party
to Strawberry; Dick Edgecumbe, George Selwyn, and Williams were with
me; we composed a coat of arms for the two clubs at White’s, which is
actually engraving from a very pretty painting of Edgecumbe,[31] whom
Mr Chute, as Strawberry King at Arms, has appointed our chief herald
painter; here is the blazon:—
Vert (for card table), between three parolis proper, on a chevron table
(for hazard table), two rouleaus in saltire, between two dice proper;
in a canton, sable, a white ball (for election), argent.
Supporters, An old Knave of _Clubs_ on the dexter, a young Knave on
the sinister side; both accoutred proper.
Crest, Issuing out of an earl’s coronet (Lord Darlington) an arm
shaking a dice box, all proper.
Motto (alluding to the crest), _Cogit amor nummi_. The arms encircled
by a claret bottle ticket, by way of Order.”
“_14 May 1761._ Jemmy Lumley, last week, had a party of whist at his
own house; the combatants, Lucy Southwell, that curtseys like a bear,
Mrs Prijeau, and a Mrs Mackenzie. They played from six in the evening
till twelve the next day; Jemmy never winning one rubber, and rising a
loser of two thousand pounds. How it happened, I know not, nor why his
suspicions arrived so late, but he fancied himself cheated, and refused
to pay. However, _the bear_ had no share in his evil surmises: on the
contrary, a day or two afterwards, he promised a dinner at Hampstead to
Lucy and her virtuous sister. As he went to the rendezvous, his chaise
was stopped by somebody, who advised him not to proceed. Yet, no whit
daunted, he advanced. In the garden, he found the gentle conqueress,
Mrs Mackenzie, who accosted him in the most friendly manner. After a
few compliments, she asked him if he did not intend to pay her. ‘No,
indeed I shan’t, I shan’t; your servant, your servant.’ ‘Shan’t you,’
said the fair virago; and, taking a horsewhip from beneath her hoop,
she fell upon him with as much vehemence as the Empress Queen would
upon the King of Prussia, if she could catch him alone in the garden
at Hampstead. Jemmy cried out Murder; his servants rushed in, rescued
him from the jaws of the lioness, and carried him off in his chaise to
town. The Southwells, who were already arrived, and descended, on the
noise of the fray, finding nobody to pay for the dinner, and fearing
they must, set out for London without it.”
“_3 Dec. 1761._ If you are acquainted with my Lady Barrymore, pray
tell her that, in less than two hours, t’other night, the Duke of
Cumberland lost four hundred and fifty pounds at Loo; Miss Pelham won
three hundred, and I, the rest. However, in general, Loo is extremely
gone to decay: I am to play at Princess Emily’s to-morrow, for the
first time this winter; and it is with difficulty that she has made a
party.”
“_2 Feb. 1770._ The gaming at Almack’s, which has taken the _pas_ of
White’s, is worthy of the decline of our Empire, or Commonwealth, which
you please. The young men of the age lose five, ten, fifteen thousands
pounds in an evening there. Lord Stavordale, not one and twenty, lost
eleven thousand there, last Tuesday, but recovered it by one great hand
at hazard: he swore a great oath,—‘Now, if I had been playing _deep_,
I might have won millions.’ His cousin, Charles Fox, shines equally
there, and in the House of Commons.”
“_18 Aug. 1776._ To-day I have heard the shocking news of Mr Damer’s
death, who shot himself yesterday, at three o’clock in the morning,
at a tavern in Covent Garden. My first alarm was for Mr Conway; not
knowing what effect such a horrid surprise would have on him, scarce
recovered from an attack himself; happily, it proves his nerves were
not affected, for I have had a very calm letter from him on the
occasion. Mr Charles Fox, with infinite good nature, met Mrs Damer
coming to town, and stopped her to prepare her for the dismal event.
It is almost impossible to refrain from bursting into commonplace
reflections on this occasion; but, can the walls of Almack’s help
moralizing, when £5000 a year, in present, and £22,000 in reversion,
are not sufficient for happiness, and cannot check a pistol!”
“_19 Jan. 1777._ Lord Dillon told me this morning that Lord Besborough
and he, playing at quinze t’other night with Miss Pelham, and,
happening to laugh, she flew in a passion and said, ‘It was terrible to
play with _boys_!’ And our two ages together, said Lord Dillon, make up
above a hundred and forty.”
“_6 Feb. 1780._ Within this week there has been a cast at hazard at
the Cocoa Tree, the difference of which amounted to a hundred and
four score thousand pounds. Mr O’Birne, an Irish gamester, had won
one hundred thousand pounds of a young Mr Harvey, of Chigwell, just
started from a midshipman[32] into an estate, by his elder brother’s
death. O’Birne said, ‘You never can pay me.’ ‘I can,’ said the youth;
my estate will sell for the debt.’ ‘No,’ said O., ‘I will win ten
thousand—you shall throw for the odd ninety.’ They did, and Harvey
won.”
“_29 Jan. 1791._ Pray delight in the following story: Caroline Vernon,
_fille d’honneur_, lost, t’other night, two hundred pounds at faro, and
bade Martindale mark it up. He said he would rather have a draft on her
banker. ‘Oh! willingly’; and she gave him one. Next morning, he hurried
to Drummond’s, lest all her money should be drawn out. ‘Sir,’ said
the clerk, ‘would you receive the contents immediately?’ ‘Assuredly.’
‘Why, sir, have you read the note?’ Martindale took it; it was, ‘Pay
the bearer two hundred blows, well applied.’ The nymph tells the story
herself; and, yet, I think, the clerk had the more humour of the two.”
There can be no doubt but that in the last half of the eighteenth
century, gambling for large sums was very rife. We have evidence of it
on all hands.
“_Ann. Reg._, _8 Feb. 1766_. We are informed that a lady, at the West
end of the town, lost, one night, at a sitting, 3000 guineas at Loo.”
_Par parenthèse_, the same volume has (p. 191) the following horrible
story: “_A circumstantial and authentic account of the miserable case
of Richard Parsons, as transmitted in a letter from William Dallaway,
Esq., High Sheriff of Gloucestershire, to his friend in London_.
“On the 20th of February last, Richard Parsons, and three more men
met at a private house at Chalford, in order to play at cards, about
six o’clock in the evening. They played at loo till about eleven or
twelve that night, when they changed their game to whist: after a few
deals, a dispute arose about the state of the game. Parsons affirmed,
with oaths, that they were six, which the others denied, upon which he
wished ‘that he might never enter the kingdom of heaven, that his flesh
might rot upon his bones, if they were not six in the game.’ These
wishes were several times repeated, both then and afterwards. Upon
this, the candle was put out by one James Young, a stander by, who says
he was shocked with the oaths and expressions he heard; and that he put
out the candle with a design to put an end to the game.
“Presently, upon this, they adjourned to another house, and there
began a fresh game, when Parsons and his partner had great success.
Then they played at loo again till four in the morning. During this
second playing, Parson complained to one Rolles, his partner, of a
bad pain in his leg, which, from that time, increased. There was an
appearance of a swelling, and, afterwards, the colour changing to that
of a mortified state. On the following Sunday, he rode to Minchin
Hampton, to get the advice of Mr Pegler, the surgeon in that town,
who attended him from the Thursday after February 27. Notwithstanding
all the applications that were made, the mortification increased, and
showed itself in different parts of the body. On Monday, March 3, at
the request of some of his female relations, the clergyman of Bisley
attended him, and administered the sacrament, without any knowledge of
what had happened before, and which he continued a stranger to, till
he saw the account in the _Gloucester Journal_. Parsons appeared to be
extremely ignorant of religion, having been accustomed to swear, to
drink (though he was not in liquor when he uttered the above execrable
wish), to game, and to profane the Sabbath, though he was only in his
nineteenth year. After he had received the Sacrament, he appeared to
have some sense of the ordinance; for he said, ‘Now I must never sin
again; he hoped God would forgive him, having been wicked not above six
years, and that, whatsoever should happen, he would not play at cards
again.’
“After this, he was in great agony, chiefly delirious, spoke of his
companions by name, and seemed as if his imagination was engaged
at cards. He started, had distracted looks and gestures, and, in a
dreadful fit of shaking and trembling, died on Tuesday morning, the
4th of March last: and was buried the next day at the parish church of
Bisley. His eyes were open when he died, and could not be closed by
the common methods; so that they remained open when he was put into
the coffin. From this circumstance arose a report, that he _wished
his eyes might never close_; but this was a mistake; for, from the
most creditable witnesses, I am fully convinced that no such wish was
uttered; and the fact is, that he did close his eyes after he was taken
with the mortification, and either dozed or slept several times.
“When the body came to be laid out, it appeared all over discoloured,
or spotted; and it might be said, in the most literal sense, that his
flesh rotted on his bones before he died.”
But this is a digression. Among the deaths recorded in the _Gents’
Magazine_ for 1776, is “Ap. 30. William G——, Esq.: who, having been
left £18,000, a few months before, by his father, lost it all by
gaming, in less than a month; in the Rules of the King’s Bench.”
“_Oct. 25, 1777._ At the Sessions for the County of Norfolk, a
tradesman of Norwich, for cheating at cards, was fined £20, and
sentenced to suffer six months’ imprisonment in the castle, without
bail or main prize; and, in case the said fine was not paid at the
expiration of the term, then to stand on the pillory, one hour, with
his ears nailed to the same.”
The gamblers of those days were giants in their way, there were George
Selwyn, Lord Carlisle, Stephen Fox, who, on one occasion was fleeced
most unmercifully at a West-end gambling house. He went into it with
£13,000, and left without a farthing. His younger brother, Charles
James, was a notorious gambler, and, if the following anecdote is
true, not over honourable. He ranked among the admirers of Mrs Crewe.
A gentleman lost a considerable sum to this lady at play, and, being
obliged to leave town suddenly, gave Mr Fox the money to pay her,
begging him to apologise to the lady for his not having paid the debt
of honour in person. Fox, unfortunately, lost every shilling of it
before morning. Mrs Crewe often met the supposed debtor afterwards,
and, surprised that he never noticed the circumstance, at length,
delicately hinted the matter to him. “Bless me,” said he, “I paid the
money to Mr Fox three months ago.” “Oh! did you, Sir?” said Mrs Crewe,
good-naturedly, “then probably he paid me, and I forgot it.”
Steinmetz[33] (vol. i., p. 323) says: “Fox’s best friends are said
to have been half-ruined in annuities given by them as securities for
him to the Jews. £500,000 a year of such annuities of Fox and his
‘society’ were advertised to be sold at one time. Walpole wondered
what Fox would do when he had sold the estates of his friends. Walpole
further notes that, in the debate on the Thirty-nine Articles, Feb. 6,
1772, Fox did not shine; nor could it be wondered at. He had sat up
playing at hazard, at Almack’s, from Tuesday evening, the 4th, till
five in the afternoon of Wednesday, the 5th. An hour before, he had
recovered £12,000 that he had lost; and by dinner, which was at five
o’clock, he had ended, losing £11,000! On the Thursday, he spoke in
the above debate; went to dinner at half-past eleven, at night; from
thence to White’s, where he drank till seven the next morning; thence
to Almack’s, where he won £6000; and, between three and four in the
afternoon, he set out for Newmarket. His brother Stephen lost £11,000
two nights after, and Charles £10,000 more on the 13th, so that in
three nights the two brothers—the eldest not _twenty-five_ years of
age—lost £32,000!”
CHAPTER V
The Gambling ladies—Ladies Archer, Buckinghamshire, Mrs Concannon,
&c.—Private Faro Banks—Card-money—Gaming House end of Eighteenth
Century—Anecdotes—The profits of Gaming Houses—C. J. Fox and Sir
John Lade—Col. Hanger on gambling.
We have previously read how ladies of position kept gambling houses,
and pleaded their privilege to do so; they, however, had to bow to the
law. In the latter part of the eighteenth century many ladies opened
their houses, the best known, probably, being Lady Buckinghamshire
and Lady Archer. The former is said to have slept with a blunderbuss
and a pair of pistols by her bedside, to protect her Faro bank; and
the latter was notorious for her “make up,” as we may see by the two
following notices in the _Morning Post_.
“_Jan. 5, 1789._ The Lady Archer, whose death was announced in this
paper of Saturday, is not the celebrated character whose _cosmetic
powers_ have long been held in public estimation.”
“_Jan. 8, 1789._ It is said that the dealers in _Carmine and dead
white_, as well as the _perfumers_ in general, have it in contemplation
to present an Address to Lady Archer, in gratitude for her not having
DIED according to a late alarming report.”
We get portraits of these two ladies in a satirical print by Gillray
(31st March 1792), which is entitled “Modern Hospitality, or a Friendly
Party in High Life,” where they are shewn keeping a Faro bank; and
as these fair ones were then somewhat _passées_, the picture has the
following:—“To those earthly Divinities who charmed twenty years
ago, this Honourable method of banishing mortifying reflections is
dedicated. O, Woman! Woman! everlasting is your power over us, for in
youth you charm away our hearts, and, in your after years, you charm
away our purses!” The players are easily recognised. Lady Archer,
who sits on the extreme left, has won largely; rouleaux of gold and
bank notes are before her, and, on her right hand, are two heaps of
loose gold: and the painted old gambler smiles as she shows her cards,
saying, “The Knave wins all!” Her next-door neighbour, the Prince of
Wales, who has staked and lost his last piece, lifts his hands and
eyes in astonishment at the luck. Lady Buckinghamshire has doubled her
stake, playing on two cards, and is, evidently, annoyed at her loss,
while poor, black-muzzled Fox laments the loss of his last three pieces.
Gillray portrayed these two ladies on several occasions. There are two
pictures of St James’s and St Giles’s, and in “Dividing the Spoil, St
James’s, 1796,” we see Lady Archer and Lady Buckinghamshire quarrelling
over gold, bank notes, a sword, and an order. One other lady, probably
Lady Mount Edgecumbe, is scrutinising a bill, whilst a fourth, with a
pile of gold and notes before her, looks on smilingly.
Another print (16th May 1796) is called “Faro’s Daughters, or the
Kenyonian Blow Up to Gamblers.” Here we see Lady Archer and Mrs
Concannon placed together in the pillory, where they are mutually
upbraiding each other. The _motif_ for this picture was a speech
of Lord Kenyon’s, who, at a trial to recover £15, won at gaming on
Sunday, at a public-house, commented very severely on the hold the
vice of gaming had on all classes of society, from the highest to the
lowest. The former, he said, set the example to the latter, and, he
added, “They think they are too great for the law; I wish they could
be punished”—and then continued, “If any prosecutions of this kind
are fairly brought before me, and the parties are justly convicted,
whatever be their rank or station in the country, though they be the
first ladies in the land, they shall certainly exhibit themselves in
the pillory.”
They were getting somewhat too notorious. In spite of Lady
Buckinghamshire’s precautions of blunderbuss and pistols, her croupier,
Martindale, announced, on 30th Jan. 1797, that the box containing the
cash of the Faro bank had unaccountably disappeared. All eyes were
turned towards her ladyship. Mrs Concannon said she once lost a gold
snuff-box from the table when she went to speak to Lord C. Another
lady said she lost her purse there the previous winter, and a story
was told that a certain lady had taken _by mistake_ a cloak which did
not belong to her at a rout given by the late Countess of Guildford.
Unfortunately, a discovery was made, and when the servant knocked
at the door to demand it, some very valuable lace with which it was
trimmed had been taken off. Some surmised that the lady who stole the
cloak might also have stolen the Faro bank.
Townsend and his meddlesome police would poke their noses into the
business, and, although they did not recover the Faro bank, something
did come out of their interference, as we read in the _Times_ of 13th
March 1797. “PUBLIC OFFICE, MARLBOROUGH STREET.—FARO BANKS.—On
Saturday came on to be heard informations against Lady Buckinghamshire,
Lady Elizabeth Luttrell, Mrs Sturt, and Mr Concannon, for having,
on the night of the 30th of last January, played at _Faro_, at Lady
Buckinghamshire’s house, in St James’s Square, and Mr Martindale was
charged with being the proprietor of the table.
“The evidence went to prove that the defendants had gaming parties at
their different houses in rotation; and, that when they met at Lady
B.’s, the witnesses used to wait upon them in the gambling room, and
that they played at _E. O._, _Rouge et Noir_, &c., from about eleven or
twelve till three or four o’clock in the morning. After hearing counsel
the Magistrates convicted _Henry Martindale_ in the penalty of £200,
and _each of the ladies_ in £50. The information against Mr Concannon
was quashed, on account of his being summoned by a wrong Christian
name.”
Gillray improved this occasion, giving us “Discipline à la Kenyon,” and
drew Lady Buckinghamshire tied to the tail of a cart, on which is a
placard, “FARO’S DAUGHTERS BEWARE”: the Lord Chief Justice is depicted
as administering a sound flogging both with birch and cat-o’-nine-tails
to the delinquent lady, whilst Lady Luttrell and Mrs Sturt stand in the
pillory guarded by a stalwart constable.
These ladies do not seem to have survived the century, for the _Morning
Post_ of Jan. 12, 1800, says: “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_, 18th Dec. 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.”
The following extracts from _The Times_ tell us much about the
fashionable professional lady gamblers:—
“_Feb. 5, 1793._ Mrs Sturt’s house in St James Square was opened
yesterday evening, for the first time this season, for public play. The
visitors were numerous.”
“_Feb. 6, 1793._ Some of the _Faro ladies_ have opened their
play-houses, and announced the _Road to Ruin_ until further notice. The
_Gamesters_ was publicly rehearsed in St James Square on Monday night.”
“_Feb. 10, 1793._ The profits of FARO are become so considerably
reduced that most of the Banks now lose almost every evening, after
defraying the expenses of the house, which are very considerable. Those
_public spirited_ Ladies who give such frequent routs, do so at a
certain gain: for the sum of TWENTY-FIVE guineas is regularly advanced
by the bank holders towards the night’s expenses. The _punters_ at Mrs
HOBART’S and Mrs STURT’S Faro banks have dropped off considerably; and
those who continue are got so _knowing_ that heavy complaints are made
that they bring no grist to the mill. There have not been above eight
punters at Mrs STURT’S bank any night this season. The _pigeons_ are
all flown, and the punters are nothing better than hawks.”
“_14 Mar. 1793._ The BANKING _Ladies_ in St James Square do not see
themselves much obliged to the _Abbé de St Farre_, and his brother, for
introducing so many noble Emigrants to their houses. These people come
with their crown pieces and half guineas, and absolutely form a circle
round the Faro tables, to the total exclusion of our English Lords and
Ladies, who can scarcely get one _punt_ during the whole evening.”
“_2 May 1793._ A _Banking_ Lady, in St James Square, is about to
commence a prosecution, because it is said, that there was much
_filching_ at her FARO table. The house was quite in an uproar, on
Tuesday night, in consequence of a paragraph that appeared in a Morning
Paper of the preceding day. The Lady _vows_ she will call in the aid
of an _Attorney_ to _support her reputation_: and observes, that the
_credit_ of her house will suffer, if such reports are permitted to
go unpunished. The _Faro Ladies_ are, in the sporting phrase, almost
_done up_. Jewels, trinkets, watches, laces, &c., are often at the
pawnbrokers, and scarcely anything is left to raise money upon except
their _pads_.[34] If justice is to be _hoodwinked_, and _gambling_ and
_sharking_ permitted, why not make it an article of revenue, as in
foreign countries, and lay a heavy tax on it.”
“_2 Apr. 1794._ Lord HAMPDEN’S _Faro Bank_ is broken up for the
present season. Lady Buckinghamshire, Mrs Sturt and Mrs Concannon
alternately divide the _Beau monde_ at their respective houses. Instead
of having two different hot suppers at _one_ and _three_ in the
morning, the _Faro Banks_ will now scarcely afford bread and cheese
and porter.
“One of the Faro Banks in St James Square lost £7000 last year by bad
debts. A young son of Levi is a considerable debtor to one of them; but
not finding it convenient to pay what is not recoverable by law, he no
longer appears in those fashionable circles.”
“_4 Ap. 1794._ It is impossible to conceive a more complete system of
fraud and dishonour than is practised every night at the _Faro banks_.
Though every table has four croupiers, yet the Bank holders find that
double that number are necessary to watch all the little tricks and
artifices of some of the _fashionable punters_. But Mrs G—— beats all
her associates in the art of doubling, or cocking a card.”
“_25 June 1794._ The Faro Banks being no longer a profitable game,
certain Ladies in St James Square have substituted another instead of
it, called _Roulet_: but it is, in fact, only the old game of E.O.
under a different title.”
“_30 Dec. 1795._ It is to the credit of the rising generation of
females, that they have unanimously quitted those infamous meetings,
called Private Pharoes, where some of their shameless Mammas, and the
faded reputations of the present age, still expose their vices, and
cheat the boys who have not been long enough in the army to wear out
their first cockades.”
“_17 Dec. 1794._ It is said to be the intention of some of the
leading circles in the fashionable world, to abolish the tax of
_Card money_,[35] as an imposition upon hospitality. This would
prove the return of good sense, inasmuch as it tends to substantiate
the truth—that when one person invites another to partake of the
conviviality of his house, he should not lay an impost upon him, even
more exorbitant than that which he would pay, were he to attend a
Tavern Club. When a friend is invited, it is an insult to friendship,
to make him pay for his entertainment.”
“_22 March 1796._ The _tabbies_ at Bath are in a state of insurrection,
in consequence of an example set by Lady Elcho, who neither visits,
nor receives Company that _pay for_ Cards: the laudable reformation is
adopted so generally, that many of the _Dowagers_, who have so long fed
upon _Card money_, are turning their thoughts to some more creditable
means of earning their livelihood.”
“_24 March 1796._ We hope the Ladies in London, who stand upon a nice
point of honour, will follow the example of the Bath Ladies, and
exclude the odious, and pitiful, custom of taking card money at their
houses. It is a meanness, which no persons who pretend to the honour of
keeping good company, ought to allow. We are afraid that many a party
is formed, rather to derive benefit from the card tables, than for the
sake of hospitality.”
This custom died hard, for I find in the _Morning Herald_, 15th Dec.
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.”
“_Times_, _2 Nov. 1797_. At some of our first Boarding Schools, the
fair pupils are now taught to play whist and casino. Amongst their
_winning_ ways, this may not be the least agreeable to Papa and Mamma.
“It is calculated that a clever child, by its Cards, and its novels,
may pay for its own education.
“At a boarding school in the neighbourhood of Moorfields, the mistress
complains that she is unable to teach her scholars either Whist, or
Pharo.”
“_22 Dec. 1797._ So completely has gambling got the better of dancing,
that at a private Ball, last week, a gentleman asking a young lady,
from Bath, to dance the next two dances, she very ingenuously replied,
‘Yes, if you will play two rubbers at Casino.’”
Enough has been written to give us a good insight into female gambling.
I will now continue with that of the men, and first let us have a
description of a gaming house from the _Times_ of 14th Feb. 1793.
“The number of new gaming houses, established at the West-end of the
town, is, indeed, a mattter of very serious evil: but they are not
likely to decrease while examples of the same nature are held forth
in the higher circles of life. It is needless to point out any one
of these houses in particular: it is sufficient for us to expose the
tricks that are practised at many of them to swindle the unsuspecting
young men of fortune, who are entrapped into these whirlpools of
destruction. The first thing necessary is, to give the guests a good
dinner and plenty of wine, which most of these houses do, gratis.
When they are sufficiently intoxicated, and having lost all the
money about them, their acceptance is obtained to Bills of Exchange
to a considerable amount, which are frequently paid, to avoid the
disagreeable circumstance of a public exposition in a Court of Justice,
which is always threatened, though the gamesters well know that no such
measure durst be adopted by them.
“Should any reluctance, or hesitation, be shewn by the injured party,
to accept these Bills, he is shewn into a long room, with a target at
the end of it, and several pistols lying about, where he is given to
understand that these sharpers practice a considerable time of the
day in shooting at a mark, and have arrived at such perfection in
this exercise, that they can shoot a pistol ball, within an inch of
the mark, from the common distance taken by duellists. A hint is then
dropped, that further hesitation will render the use of the pistols
necessary, and will again be the case, should he ever divulge what he
has seen, and heard.
“If further particulars, or proofs, are wanting, they may be known, on
application to certain _Military characters_, who have already made
some noise in the world.”
Nor was it only public play—gambling was universal. Michael Kelly, the
vocalist, does not seem to think it anything very extraordinary, when
he tells the following story:—
“While at Margate, Mr and Mrs Crouch, and myself, were staying at
the Hotel, kept by a man whose manners were as free and easy as any
I have ever met with. He was proverbial for his _nonchalance_, and a
perfect master of the art of making out a bill. One day, Johnstone
dined with us, and we drank our usual quantum of wine. In the course
of the evening, our bashful host, who, amongst other good qualities,
was a notorious gambler, forced upon us some Pink Champagne, which he
wished us to give our opinions of. My friend Jack Johnstone, who never
was an enemy to the juice of the grape, took such copious draughts
of the sparkling beverage, that his eyes began to twinkle, and his
speech became somewhat of the thickest: my honest host, on perceiving
this, thinking, I suppose, to amuse him, entered our room with a
backgammon table and dice, and asked Johnstone if he would like to play
a game. Johnstone, at that time, was considered fond of play, of which
circumstance mine host was perfectly aware. Mrs Crouch and I earnestly
entreated Jack to go to bed, but we could not prevail upon him to do
so; he whispered me, saying, ‘You shall see how I will serve the fellow
for his impudence’ and to it they went. The end of the business was,
that before they parted, Johnstone won nearly two hundred pounds, and I
retired to bed, delighted to see the biter bit.”
Of another Kelly, or rather O’Kelly (the Colonel who was owner of the
famous race horse, Eclipse), Harcourt[36] tells some stories, and,
indeed the book is a mine of anecdotes, some of which I reproduce:—
“Dennis O’Kelly was much attached to Ascot, where his horses occupied
him by day, and the hazard table by night.
“Here it was, that repeatedly turning over a QUIRE OF BANK NOTES, a
gentleman asked him ‘what he was in want of?’ when he replied, ‘he was
looking for _a little one_.’ The enquirer said ‘he could accommodate
him, and desired to know for what sum?’ When he answered ‘A FIFTY, or
something of _that sort_, just to set the _Caster_.’ At this time it
was supposed he had seven or eight thousand pounds in notes in his
hand, but no one for less than a _hundred_. He always threw with great
success; and, when he held the box, was seldom known to refuse throwing
for _any sum_ that the company chose to set him; and, when ‘out,’ was
always as liberal in _setting the Caster_, and preventing stagnation of
_trade at the table_, which, from the great property always about him,
it was his good fortune very often to deprive of the last _floating
guinea_, when the _box_, of course, became _dormant_ for want of a
single adventurer.
“It was his usual custom to carry a great number of _bank notes_ in his
waistcoat pocket, twisted up together with the greatest indifference.
When, in his attendance upon a hazard table at Windsor, during the
races, being a _standing better_, and every chair full, a person’s
hand was observed, by those on the opposite side of the table, just in
the act of drawing two notes out of his pocket. The alarm was given,
and the hand, from the person behind, was _instantaneously_ withdrawn,
and the notes left more than half out of the pocket. The company
became clamorous for the offender being taken before a magistrate,
and many attempted to secure him for the purpose; the Captain very
_philosophically_ seizing him by the collar, kicked him down stairs,
and exultingly exclaimed, ‘’twas a _sufficient punishment_ to be
deprived of the pleasure of keeping company with _jontlemon_.’
“A bet for a large sum was once proposed to Col. O’Kelly, at a race,
and accepted. The proposer asked the Colonel where lay his estates
to answer for the amount if he lost? ‘My estates! by _Jasus_.’ cried
O’Kelly. ‘Oh, if that’s what you _mane_, I’ve a map of them here.’
Then, opening his pocket book, he exhibited bank notes to ten times the
sum in question, and, ultimately, added the enquirer’s contribution to
them.”
“_An advertisement copied from the Courier, 5 Mar. 1794._ As Faro is
the most fashionable circular game in the _haut ton_, in exclusion
of melancholy Whist, and to prevent a company being cantoned into
separate parties, a gentleman, of unexceptionable character, will,
on invitation, do himself the honour to attend the rout of any lady,
nobleman, or gentleman, with a Faro Bank and Fund, adequate to the
style of play, from 500 to 2000 guineas. Address G. A. by letter, to be
left at Mr Harding’s, Piccadilly, nearly opposite Bond Street.—_N.B._
This advertisement will not appear again.”
“On _Sunday_ night, towards the end of December 1795. Gen. Tarleton
lost £800 at Mrs Concannon’s; Mr Hankey, £300. The Prince was to have
been there, but sent a late excuse. Mr Boone of the Guards; Mr Derby,
son of the late Admiral, and Mr Dashwood, frequently rise winners or
losers of £5000 nightly. Lord Cholmondeley, Thompson & Co. were Faro
Bankers at Brookes’s, till which there was no Faro Bank of _male_
celebrity, except at the Cocoa Tree.”
“Henry Weston, who was hanged for forgery, was nephew to the late
Admiral Sir Hugh Palliser.
“Having an unlimited control of the whole large property of his
employer, Mr Cowan, during his absence from town he was tempted, first
to gamble in the funds, where, being unfortunate, he went next to a
Gaming House in Pall Mall, and lost a very large sum, and, at length,
gamed away nearly all his master’s property. This, he hoped to patch up
by forgery of Gen. Tonyn’s name, by which he obtained from the Bank of
England above £10,000. Even this only lasted two nights; and, procuring
a woman to personate the General’s sister, he obtained another large
supply, and went off. He was soon taken, and cut his throat on his
return; but not effectually. He was convicted at the Old Bailey on the
18th March 1796, and suffered on the 6th July, aged only twenty-three
years.
“He sent Lord Kenyon a list of a number of professional gamblers, and,
among them, was a person of very high rank. Weston, at different times,
lost above £46,000 at play; and, at a house in Pall Mall, where he lost
a considerable part of it, three young officers also lost no less than
£35,000.
“It was stated, some time since, in the Court of King’s Bench, that the
dinners given by gambling houses in and about Oxendon Street, amounted
to £15,000 per annum!”
“The following facts were disclosed on a motion in the Court of King’s
Bench, 24 Nov. 1797. Joseph Atkinson and Mary, his wife, had, for many
years, kept a Gaming House, No. 15, under the Piazza, Covent Garden.
They, daily, gave magnificent play dinners; cards of invitation for
which were sent to the clerks of merchants, bankers and brokers in the
city. Atkinson used to say he liked citizens, whom he called _flats_,
better than any one else, for, when they had dined, they played freely;
and, after they had lost all their money, they had credit to borrow
more. When he had _cleaned them out_, when _the Pigeons were completely
plucked_, they were sent to some of their solvent friends. After
dinner, play was introduced, and, till dinner time the next day, the
different games at cards, dice and E.O. were continually going on.
“Theophilus Bellasis had long been an infamous character, well known
at Bow Street, where he had been charged with breaking into the
counting-house of Sir James Sanderson, Bart. Bellasis was sometimes
clerk, and sometimes client, to John Shepherd, an attorney of that
Court; and at other times, Shepherd was the prosecutor of those who
kept Gaming Houses, and Bellasis attorney. Sir William Addington was
so well aware that these two men commenced prosecutions solely for the
purpose of _hush money_ that he refused to act. Atkinson at one time
gave them £100, at another £80; and, in this way, they had amassed an
immense sum, and undertook, for a specific amount, to defend keepers of
Gaming Houses against all prosecutions!
“Mr Garrow, on a former occasion, charged Atkinson with using
_dispatches_, that is, _loaded dice_, which in, five minutes, would
dispatch £500 out of the pocket of any young man when intoxicated with
champagne.”
“_Jan. 26, 1798._ A notice came on in the King’s Bench, Cornet William
Moore, 3rd Dragoon Guards, _v._ Captain Hankey. The former had won off
the latter, at play, £14,000, for which Hankey had given his bond; but
a Court of Inquiry having declared that Moore had cheated him out of
it, he made his application to set aside the bond.”
It will be remembered that in that famous prosecution, in 1797, of
Lady Buckinghamshire and her friends, their manager, Henry Martindale,
was fined £200. Next year he was bankrupt, and we read that “The debts
proved under Mr Martindale’s commission amounted to £328,000, besides
Debts of Honour, which were struck off to the amount of £150,000.”
“His failure is said to be owing to misplaced confidence in a
subordinate, who robbed him of thousands. The first suspicion was
occasioned by his purchasing an estate of £500 a year, but other
purchases followed to a considerable extent, and it was soon discovered
that the Faro Bank had been robbed, sometimes of two thousand guineas a
week!
“On the 14th of April 1798, other arrears to a large amount were
submitted to and rejected by the Commissioners, who declared a first
dividend of one shilling and fivepence in the pound.”
“The Right Honourable Charles James Fox had an old gambling debt to
pay to Sir John Lade. Finding himself in cash after a lucky run at
Faro, he sent a complimentary card to the knight, desiring to discharge
the claim. Sir John no sooner saw the money than he called for pen and
ink, and began to figure. ‘What now,’ cried Fox. ‘Only calculating the
interest,’ replied the other. ‘Are you so,’ coolly rejoined Charles,
and pocketed the cash.’ I thought it was a debt of honour. As you seem
to consider it a trading debt, and as I make it an invariable rule
to pay my Jew creditors last, you must wait a little longer for your
money.’”
Before leaving the eighteenth century, let us hear what Col. Hanger[37]
(4th Lord Coleraine) says of private gambling in his time, and
undoubtedly he mixed in the very highest society. “If a gentleman in
these days has but a few guineas in his purse, and will walk directly
up to the Faro table, he will be the most welcome guest in the house;
it is not necessary for him to speak, or even bow, to a single lady
in the room, unless some unfortunate woman at the gaming-table ask
him politely for the loan of a few guineas; then his answer need be
but short—‘No, Dolly, no; can’t’; for this ever will be received as
wit, though the unfortunate lady’s bosom may be heaving, not from the
tenderer passions, but with grief and despair at having lost the last
farthing.
“When I first came into the world (1751?) there was no such thing as
a Faro table admitted into the house of a woman of fashion; in those
days they had too much pride to receive tribute[38] from the proprietor
of such a machine. In former times there was no such thing as gaming
at a private house, although there was more deep play at the clubs at
that time than ever was before, or has been since. It is lamentable to
see lovely woman destroying her health and beauty at six o’clock in the
morning at a gaming-table. Can any woman expect to give to her husband
a vigorous and healthy offspring, whose mind, night after night, is
thus distracted, and whose body is relaxed by anxiety and the fatigue
of late hours? It is impossible.”
CHAPTER VI
The Gambling Clubs—White’s, Cocoa Tree, Almack’s—A few gamblers
described—Stories of high play—White’s and its frequenters—Brookes’
and its players—Captain Gronow and his reminiscences of
gambling—Gambling by the English at Paris—The Duke of
Wellington—Ball Hughes—Scrope Davies—Raggett of White’s.
Hanger speaks of gambling at the clubs, but in his time there were
very few of them, and the oldest of all was “White’s” in St James
Street. Originally a Chocolate House, established in 1698, it was the
rendezvous for the Tories in London. It was destroyed by fire on 28th
April, 1733, a fact which is immortalised by Hogarth in his sixth
picture of the _Rake’s Progress_. The earliest record of it, as a Club,
that remains, is a book of rules and list of members of the old Club
at White’s, dated 30th October 1736. In 1755 it removed to the east
side of St James Street to No. 38, and there it still remains. In 1797,
according to the rules of the Club, “Every Member who plays at Chess,
Draughts, or Backgammon, do pay One Shilling each time of playing by
daylight, and half-a-crown each by candlelight.” We have had many
references to the gambling that took place at White’s, and when betting
is discussed, the Club’s famous betting-book will be duly noticed. It
is now one of the most aristocratic clubs in London.
The Cocoa Tree Club, which was, probably, made into a Club before 1746,
and was somewhat lower down St James Street than White’s, was the Whig
Club, but it does not seem to have been so much used for gambling as
its elder _confrère_.
Almack’s Club was essentially for gambling, and was founded in 1764 by
twenty-seven noblemen and gentlemen. Among its original rules are the
following:—
“21. No gaming in the eating room, except tossing up for reckonings, on
penalty of paying the whole bill of the members present.
“40. That every person playing at the new guinea table do keep fifty
guineas before him.
“41. That every person playing at the twenty guinea table do not keep
less than twenty guineas before him.”
Here is an extract from the Club books which shows the style of play.
“Mr Thynne having won only 12,000 guineas during the last two months,
retired in disgust. March 21, 1772.”
The Club subsequently became Goosetree’s, and after him was taken by a
wine merchant and money lender named Brookes, and Brookes’s it is to
this day, at 60 St James Street, to which locality it moved from Pall
Mall in October 1778.
These, with Arthur’s, were all the clubs for the nobility and gentry,
until the Regency, when clubs multiplied. There were any amount of
gambling houses, but they were public—but, of course, a club was
strictly confined to its members.
So gambling went on merrily among all classes, as we may see by the
following notices from the _Morning Post_:
“_5 July 1797._ Is Mr Ogden (now called the Newmarket Oracle), the same
person who, five-and-twenty years since, was an annual pedestrian to
Ascot, covered with dust, amusing himself with _pricking in the belt_,
_hustling in the hat_, &c., amongst the lowest class of rustics, at the
inferior booths of the fair?
“Is D—k—y B—— w, who has now his snug farm, the same person who,
some years since, _drove post chaise_ for T—— y of Bagshot, could
neither read nor write, and was introduced to _the family_ only by his
pre-eminence at cribbage?
“Is Mr Twycross (with his phaeton), the same person who, some years
since, became a bankrupt in Tavistock Street, immediately commenced the
Man of Fashion at Bath, kept running horses, &c., _secundum artem_?
“Is Mr Phillips (who has now his town and country house, in the most
fashionable style,) the same who was, originally, a linen draper and
bankrupt at Salisbury, and who made his first _family entré_ in the
metropolis, by his superiority at _Billiards_ (with Capt. Wallace,
Orrell, &c.) at Cropley’s in Bow Street?
“Was poor carbuncled P—— e (so many years the favourite decoy duck
of _the family_) the very barber of Oxford who, in the midst of the
operation upon a gentleman’s face, laid down his razor, swearing that
he would never shave another man so long as he lived, and immediately
became the hero of the Card Table, _the bones_, _the box_, and the
_cock-pit_?”
“_5 April 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.”
“_30 June 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.”
“_8 July 1806._ A certain Noble Marquis, who has been 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_!”
“_15 July 1806._ The noble Marquis, who has been so great a gainer
this season, at _hazard_, never plays with anyone, 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.”
“_Morning Herald, 16 June 1804._ A noble Lord, lately high in office,
and who manifests a strong inclination to be re-instated in his
political power, lost, at the UNION, a night or two back, 4000 guineas
before twelve o’clock; but, continuing to play, his luck took a turn,
and he rose a winner of a 1000 before five the next morning.”
I have, also, two newspaper cuttings, but know not whence they came.
“_Mar. 28, 1811._ The brother of a Noble Marquis is said to have lately
won, at _hazard_, upwards of £30,000, all in one night!” “_April 3,
1811._ A young gentleman of family and fortune lost £7000, on Sunday
Morning, at a gaming house in the neighbourhood of Pall Mall.”
This brings us to the time when, owing to the mental affliction of
George III., the Prince of Wales became Regent, and during his reign,
both as Regent and King, gambling throve; and I propose to quote
somewhat from Captain Gronow, whose chatty Reminiscences are about the
best of those times. But before doing so I must tell the following
anecdote which relates to that General Scott whom Gronow mentions.
Lord C—— had a most unfortunate propensity to gamble; and, in one
night, he lost £33,000 to General Scott. Mortified at his ill-fortune
he paid the money and wished to keep the circumstance secret; it was,
however, whispered about. His lordship, to divert his chagrin, went,
a few nights afterwards, to a Masquerade at Carlisle House, Soho, and
he found all the company running after three Irish young ladies of the
name of G—— e, in the character of the three witches in _Macbeth_.
These ladies were so well acquainted with everything that was going
on in the great world that they kept the room in a continual roar of
laughter by the brilliancy of their wit, and the happiness of its
application to some people of rank who were present. They knew Lord
C—— and they knew of his loss, though he did not know them. He walked
up to them, and, in a solemn tone of voice, thus addressed them:—
“Ye black and midnight hags,—what do ye do?
Live ye? or are ye aught that man may question?
Quickly unclasp to me the book of fate,
And tell if good, or ill, my steps await.”
_First Witch._ “All hail, C——e! all hail to thee!
Once annual lord of thousands thirty-three!”
_Second Witch._ “All hail, C——e! all hail to thee!
All hail! though poor thou soon shalt be!”
_Hecate._ “C——e, all hail! thy evil star
Sheds baleful influence—Oh, beware!
Beware that Thane! Beware that Scott!
Or, poverty shall be thy lot!
He’ll drain thy youth as dry as hay—
Hither, Sisters, haste away!”
At the concluding words, whirling a watchman’s rattle, which she held
in her hand, the dome echoed with the sound; the astonished peer shrunk
into himself with terror—retired—vowed never to lose more than a
hundred pounds at a sitting; abided by the determination, and retrieved
his fortune. [39] “The politics of White’s Club were, then, decidedly
Tory. It was here that play was carried on to an extent which made many
ravages in large fortunes, the traces of which have not disappeared at
the present day. General Scott, the father-in-law of George Canning
and the Duke of Portland, was known to have won, at White’s, £200,000;
thanks to his notorious sobriety and knowledge of the game of whist.
The General possessed a great advantage over his companions by avoiding
those indulgences at the table, which used to muddle other men’s
brains. He confined himself to dining off something like a boiled
chicken, with toast and water; by such a regimen he came to the whist
table with a clear head, and possessing, as he did, a remarkable
memory, with great coolness and judgment, he was able, honestly, to win
the enormous sum of £200,000.
“At Brooke’s, for nearly half a century, the play was of a more
gambling character than at White’s. Faro and Macao were indulged in
to an extent which enabled a man to win, or to lose, a considerable
fortune in one night. It was here that Charles James Fox, Selwyn, Lord
Carlisle, Lord Robert Spencer, General Fitzpatrick, and other great
Whigs, won, and lost, hundreds of thousands; frequently remaining at
the table for many hours without rising.
“On one occasion, Lord Robert Spencer contrived to lose the last
shilling of his considerable fortune, given to him by his brother,
the Duke of Marlborough: General Fitzpatrick, being much in the same
condition, they agreed to raise a sum of money, in order that they
might keep a Faro bank. The members of the club made no objection, and,
ere long, they carried out their design. As is generally the case, the
bank was a winner, and Lord Robert bagged, as his share of the profits,
£100,000. He retired, strange to say, from the fœtid atmosphere of
play, with the money in his pocket, and never again gambled. George
Harley Drummond, of the famous banking house, Charing Cross, only
played once, in his whole life, at White’s Club, at whist, on which
occasion he lost £20,000 to Brummell. This event caused him to retire
from the banking house, of which he was a partner.
“Lord Carlisle was one of the most remarkable victims amongst the
players at Brooke’s, and Charles Fox, his friend, was not more
fortunate, being, subsequently, always in pecuniary difficulties. Many
a time, after a long night of hard play, the loser found himself at the
Israelitish establishment of Howard and Gibbs, then the fashionable
and patronized money-lenders. These gentlemen never failed to make
hard terms with the borrower, although ample security was, invariably,
demanded.
“The Guard’s Club was established for the three regiments of Foot
Guards, and was conducted upon a military system. Billiards and low
whist were the only games indulged in. The dinner was, perhaps, better
than at most clubs, and considerably cheaper. Arthur’s and Graham’s
were less aristocratic than those I have mentioned; it was, at the
latter, that a most painful circumstance took place. A nobleman, of the
highest position and influence in society, was detected in cheating at
cards, and, after a trial, which did not terminate in his favour, he
died of a broken heart.
“Upon one occasion, some gentlemen, of both White’s and Brooke’s,
had the honour to dine with the Prince Regent, and, during the
conversation, the Prince inquired what sort of dinners they got at
their clubs; upon which, Sir Thomas Stepney, one of the guests,
observed that their dinners were always the same, ‘the eternal joints,
or beefsteaks, the boiled fowl with oyster sauce, and an apple
tart—this is what we have, sir, and very monotonous fare it is.’ The
Prince, without further remark, rang the bell for his cook, Wattier,
and, in the presence of those who dined at the Royal table, asked him
whether he would take a house and organize a dinner club. Wattier
assented, and named Madison, the Prince’s page, manager, and Labourie,
from the Royal kitchen, as the cook. The club flourished only a few
years, owing to the high play that was carried on there. The Duke of
York patronized it, and was a member. The dinners were exquisite;
the best Parisian cooks could not beat Labourie. The favourite game
played there was Macao. Upon one occasion Jack Bouverie, brother of
Lady Heytesbury, was losing large sums, and became very irritable;
Raikes, with bad taste, laughed at Bouverie, and attempted to amuse us
with some of his stale jokes; upon which Bouverie threw his play bowl,
with the few counters it contained, at Raikes’ head: unfortunately,
it struck him, and made the City dandy angry, but no serious results
followed this open insult.”
Captain Gronow gives a personal story of his own gambling. After
Napoleon’s escape from Elba, he had the offer of an appointment on the
staff of General Picton, but his funds were somewhat low. “So I set
about thinking how I should manage to get my outfit, in order to appear
at Brussels in a manner worthy of the _aide-de-camp_ of the great
general. As my funds were at a low ebb, I went to Cox and Greenwood’s,
those staunch friends of the hard up soldier. Sailors may talk of the
‘little cherub that sits up aloft,’ but commend me for liberality,
kindness, and generosity to my old friends in Craig’s Court. I there
obtained £200, which I took with me to a gambling house in St James’
Square, where I managed, by some wonderful accident, to win £600; and,
having thus obtained the sinews of war, I made numerous purchases,
amongst others, two first-rate horses at Tattersall’s for a high
figure.”
He gives several instances of the English love for gambling, as
exemplified at Paris, after its occupation by the Allies.
“Fox, the secretary of the embassy, was an excellent man, but odd,
indolent, and careless in the extreme; he was seldom seen in the
daytime, unless it was either at the embassy, in a state of _negligée_,
or in bed. At night, he used to go to the Salon des Etrangers; and, if
he possessed a Napoleon, it was sure to be thrown away at hazard, or
_rouge et noir_. On one occasion, however, fortune favoured him in a
most extraordinary manner. The late Henry Baring having recommended him
to take the dice box, Fox replied, ‘I will do so for the last time, for
all my money is thrown away upon this infernal table.’ Fox staked all
he had in his pockets; he threw in _eleven_ times, breaking the bank,
and taking home for his share 60,000 francs. After this, several days
passed without any tidings being heard of him; but, upon calling at the
embassy to get my passport _viséd_, I went into his room, and saw it
filled with Cashmere shawls, silk, Chantilly veils, bonnets, gloves,
shoes, and other articles of ladies’ dress. On my asking the purpose of
all this millinery, Fox replied, ‘Why, my dear Gronow, it was the only
means to prevent those rascals at the Salon winning back my money.’
“The play which took place in these saloons was, frequently, of the
most reckless character; large fortunes were often lost, the losers
disappearing, never more to be heard of. Amongst the English _habitués_
were the Hon. George T——, the late Henry Baring, Lord Thanet, Tom
Sowerby, Cuthbert, Mr Steer, Henry Broadwood, and Bob Arnold.
“The late Henry Baring was more fortunate at hazard than his
countrymen, but his love of gambling was the cause of his being
excluded from the banking establishment. Col. Sowerby, of the Guards,
was one of the most inveterate players in Paris: and, as is frequently
the case with a fair player, a considerable loser. But, perhaps, the
most incurable gamester amongst the English, was Lord Thanet, whose
income was not less than £50,000 a year, every farthing of which he
lost at play. Cuthbert dissipated the whole of his fortune in the like
manner. In fact, I do not remember any instance where those who spent
their time in this den did not lose all they possessed....
“Amongst others who visited the Salon des Etrangers were Sir Francis
Vincent, Gooch, Green, Ball Hughes, and many others whose names I no
longer remember. As at Crockford’s, a magnificent supper was provided
every night, for all who thought proper to avail themselves of it. The
games principally played were _rouge et noir_ and hazard; the former
producing an immense profit; for, not only were the whole of the
expenses of this costly establishment defrayed by the winnings of the
bank, but a very large sum was paid annually to the municipality of
Paris. I recollect a young Irishman, Mr Gough, losing a large fortune
at this _tapis vert_. After returning home about two A.M. he sat down
and wrote a letter, giving reasons why he was about to commit suicide:
these, it is needless to say, were simply his gambling reverses. A
pistol shot through the brain terminated his existence. Sir Francis
Vincent—a man of old family and considerable fortune—was another
victim of this French hell, who contrived to get rid of his magnificent
property, and then disappeared from society.”
“Soon after Lord Granville’s appointment [as British Ambassador] a
strange occurrence took place at one of the public gambling houses.
A colonel, on half-pay, in the British service, having lost every
farthing he possessed, determined to destroy himself, together with all
who were instrumental to his ruin. Accordingly, he placed a canister
full of fulminating powder under the table, and set it on fire: it
blew up, but, fortunately, no one was hurt. The police arrested the
colonel, and placed him in prison; he was, however, through the humane
interposition of our ambassador, sent out of France as a madman.”
The Duke of Wellington[40] had, in his early career, lost a
considerable sum of money at play, and had been on the point of selling
his commission in Dublin, with the view of relieving himself from some
debts of honour which he had incurred.
“At a dinner party at Mr Greenwood’s, of that excellent firm, Cox
& Greenwood, I met Sir Harry Calvert, then Adjutant-General, who
accompanied the Duke of York, as one of his staff, in his disastrous
campaign in Holland; and he told us the following anecdote:—Lord
Camden, the Viceroy, had been applied to by Lord Mornington, the
brother of Captain Wesley (so the name was then spelt), for a
Commissionership of Customs, or anything else in the gift of the Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland, as it was the intention of the Captain to sell
his commission to pay his debts. Lord Camden, in an interview with
Captain Wesley, inquired whether he left the army in disgust, or
what motive induced him to relinquish a service in which he was well
qualified to distinguish himself. Captain Wesley explained everything
that had occurred, upon which the Lord Lieutenant expressed a wish to
be of service to him. ‘What can I do for you? Point out any plan by
which you can be extricated from your present difficulties.’ The answer
was, ‘I have no alternative but to sell my commission; for I am poor,
and unable to pay off my debts of honour.’ ‘Remain in the army,’ said
Lord Camden, ‘and I will assist you in paying off your liabilities.’
‘I should like to study my profession at Angers,’ replied the young
soldier, ‘for the French are the great masters of the art of war.’ Lord
Camden assented to the proposition, supplied him with the means of
living in France, and paid his debts....
“The lesson the Duke of Wellington had learnt at the gambling table,
as a young man, was deeply impressed upon him; he, afterwards, never
touched a card; and so firmly did he set his face against gambling,
that, in Paris, none of his staff, from Lord Fitzroy Somerset down to
Freemantle, was ever to be seen either at Frascati’s, or the Salon des
Etrangers.”
Ball Hughes was a dandy of the Regency, and from his fortune he was
nick-named “the golden Ball”; of him Gronow says: “His fortune had
dwindled down to a fourth of its original amount, for he was, perhaps,
the greatest gambler of his day. His love of play was such, that, at
one period of his life, he would rather play at pitch and toss than be
without his favourite excitement. He told me that, at one time, he had
lost considerable sums at battledore and shuttlecock. On one occasion,
immediately after dinner, he and the eccentric Lord Petersham commenced
playing with these toys, and continued hard at work during the whole of
the night; next morning, he was found by his valet lying on the ground
fast asleep, but ready for any other species of speculation.”
Of another dandy, Scrope Davies, he says: “As was the case with many
of the foremost men of that day, the greater number of his hours
were passed at the gambling table, where, for a length of time, he
was eminently successful; for he was a first-rate calculator. He
seldom played against individuals; he preferred going to the regular
establishments. But, on one occasion, he had, by a remarkable run of
good luck, completely ruined a young man, who had just reached his
majority, and come into the possession of a considerable fortune. The
poor youth sank down upon a sofa, in abject misery, when he reflected
that he was a beggar; for he was on the point of marriage. Scrope
Davies, touched by his despair, entered into conversation with him, and
ended by giving him back the whole of his losses, upon a solemn promise
that he would never play again. The only thing that Scrope retained
of his winnings was one of the little carriages of that day, called a
_dormeuse_ from its being fitted up with a bed, for he said, ‘When I
travel in it, I shall sleep the better for having acted rightly.’ The
youth kept his promise; but when his benefactor wanted money, he forgot
that he owed all he possessed to Scrope’s generosity, and refused to
assist him.
“For a long time Scrope Davies was a lucky player; but the time arrived
when Fortune deserted her old favourite; and, shortly after the Dandy
dynasty was overthrown, he found himself unable to mingle with the
rich, the giddy, and the gay. With the wreck of his fortune, and,
indeed, with little to live upon beyond the amount of his own Cambridge
fellowship, he sought repose in Paris, and there, indulging in literary
leisure, bade the world farewell.”
“Raggett,[41] the well known club proprietor of White’s, and the
Roxburgh club in St James’s Square, was a notable character in his
way. He began life as a poor man, and died extremely rich. It was
his custom to wait upon the members of these clubs whenever play was
going on. Upon one occasion, at the Roxburgh, the following gentlemen,
Hervey Combe, Tippoo Smith, Ward (the member for London), and Sir
John Malcolm, played for high stakes at whist; they sat during that
night, viz., Monday, the following day and night, and only separated
on Wednesday morning at eleven o’clock; indeed, the party only broke
up then, owing to Hervey Combe being obliged to attend the funeral
of one of his partners who was buried on that day. Hervey Combe, on
looking over his card, found that he was a winner of thirty thousand
pounds from Sir John Malcolm, and he jocularly said, ‘Well, Sir John,
you shall have your revenge whenever you like.’ Sir John replied,
‘Thank you; another sitting of the kind will oblige me to return again
to India.’ Hervey Combe, on settling with Raggett, pulled out of his
pocket, a handful of counters, which amounted to several hundred
pounds, over and above the thirty thousand he had won of the baronet,
and he gave them to Raggett, saying, ‘I give them to you for sitting
so long with us, and providing us with all required.’ Raggett was
overjoyed, and, in mentioning what had occurred to one of his friends,
a few days afterwards, he added, ‘I make it a rule never to allow any
of my servants to be present when gentlemen play at my clubs, for it is
my invariable custom to sweep the carpet after the gambling is over,
and I, generally, find on the floor a few counters, which pays me for
the trouble of sitting up. By this means I have made a decent fortune.’”
CHAPTER VII
Hanging, the penalty for losing—Suicide—Officer
cashiered—Reminiscences of an exiled gambler—Description of the
principal gaming-houses at the West End in 1817.
The _Annual Register_ about this time supplies us with several
gambling anecdotes, the following being almost incredible:—_15th April
1812._—“On Wednesday evening an extraordinary investigation took place
at Bow Street. Croker, the officer, was passing along the Hampstead
road, when he observed, at a short distance before him, two men on a
wall, and, directly after, saw the tallest of them, a stout man, about
six feet high, hanging by his neck, from a lamp post attached to the
wall, being that instant tied up and turned off by the short man. This
unexpected and extraordinary sight astonished the officer; he made up
to the spot with all speed; and, just after he arrived there, the tall
man, who had been hanged, fell to the ground, the handkerchief, with
which he had been suspended, having given way. Croker produced his
staff, said he was an officer, and demanded to know of the other man
the cause of such conduct. In the meantime, the man who had been hanged
recovered, got up, and, on Croker’s interfering, gave him a violent
blow on the nose, which nearly knocked him backwards. The short man was
endeavouring to make off; however, the officer procured assistance, and
both were brought to the office, when the account they gave was that
they worked on canals. They had been together on Wednesday afternoon,
tossed up for money, and afterwards for their clothes; the tall man,
who was hanged, won the other’s jacket, trousers, and shoes; they then
tossed up which should hang the other, and the short one won the toss.
They got upon the wall, the one to submit, and the other to hang him on
the lamp iron. They both agreed in this statement. The tall one, who
had been hanged, said, if he had won the toss, he would have hanged the
other. He said he then felt the effects of his hanging in his neck,
and his eyes were so much swelled that he saw double. The magistrates
expressed their horror and disgust, and ordered the man who had been
hanged to find bail for the violent and unjustifiable assault on the
officer, and the short one for hanging the other. Not having bail, they
were committed to Bridewell for trial.”
_7th Feb. 1816._—“Yesterday, a gentleman, the head in a firm of
a first-rate concern in the City, put a period to his existence by
blowing out his brains. He had gone to the masquerade at the Argyll
Rooms a few nights since, and accompanied a female home in a coach with
two men, friends of the woman. When they got to her residence, the
two men proposed to the gentleman to play for a dozen of champagne to
treat the lady with, which the gentleman declined. They, however, after
a great deal of persuasion, prevailed on him to play for small sums,
and, according to the usual tricks of gamblers, allowed him to win at
first, till they began to play for double, when, there is no doubt, the
fellows produced loaded dice, and the gentleman lost to the amount of
£1800, which brought him to his reflection and senses. He then invented
an excuse for not paying that sum, by saying he was under an agreement
with his partner not to draw for a larger amount than £300 for his
private account, and gave them a draft for that amount, promising the
remainder at a future day. This promise, however, he did not attend to,
not feeling himself bound by such a villainous transaction. But the
robbers found out who he was, and his residence, and had the audacity
to go yesterday morning, armed with bludgeons, and attack him publicly
on his own premises, in the presence of those employed there, demanding
payment of their nefarious debt of _honour_, and threatening him, if
he did not pay, that he should fight. This exposure had such an effect
upon his feelings, that he made an excuse to retire, when he destroyed
himself by blowing out his brains with a pistol. This rash act is
additionally to be lamented, as it prevents the bringing to condign
punishment the plundering villains who were the cause of it, there
being no evidence to convict them.”
“_Horse Guards, 18th Nov. 1816._—At a general Court-martial held
at Cambray, in France, on the 23rd September 1816, and continued by
adjournments to the 26th of the same month, Lieutenant the Honourable
Augustus Stanhope, of the 12th regiment of Light Dragoons, was
arraigned on the undermentioned charge, viz.:—
“For behaving in a scandalous, infamous manner, such as is unbecoming
the character of an officer and a gentleman, in conspiring, with a
certain other person, to draw in and seduce Lord Beauchamp to game
and play with them, for the purposes of gain and advantage; and that,
in pursuance of such conspiracy, he, Lieutenant Stanhope (having
engaged Lord Beauchamp to come to his quarters in Paris, on Sunday,
the 17th day of March 1816, upon an invitation to dine with him), did,
in company and concert of such other person, draw in, seduce, and
prevail upon Lord Beauchamp to play with them at a certain game of
chance with cards, for very high stakes, whereby, on an account kept by
them, Lieut. Stanhope, and the said other person, or one of them, of
the losses and gains in the course of the play, he, Lieut. Stanhope,
claimed to have won from Lord Beauchamp the sum of £8000 and upwards,
and the said other person claimed to have won off Lord Beauchamp the
further sum of £7000 and upwards.
“That, in further pursuance of the said concert and conspiracy, he,
Lord Beauchamp, at the same time and place, was required by Lieut.
Stanhope to write and sign two promissory notes, or engagements, to
pay at the expiration of three years the said several sums of money so
claimed to have been won off him, Lord Beauchamp, by Lieut. Stanhope
and the said other person respectively.
“That he, Lord Beauchamp, was, at that time, about sixteen years of
age, ignorant of, and unused to play, and affected by the wine he had
been prevailed upon to take by the parties.”
Lieut. Stanhope was found guilty and dismissed from the army.
The _Annual Register_ also gives numerous cases of duels arising from
gambling, but they are, comparatively, uninteresting, and are all of
the same type, paltry quarrels over the gaming-table.
We have a metrical description of gambling about this time supposed to
have been written by a gambler who had to retire to France, and I here
give a portion of it.[42]
“Ah me! what sad pangs ev’ry fibre now feels,
When I view the success of my exquisite _deals_,
My _cutting_ and _shuffling_, perform’d with such ease:
(And their talent is rare who can _cut_ when they please).
Ev’ry bet at Macao was decidedly mine;
For, faithful to me, was the snug winning Nine;
And the dice-box, alike, against Squire or Lord,
Brought whatever I pleased on the fortunate board.
Yet exil’d, in spite of success, to this land;
I have made of my gains but a very _bad hand_,
For here, gallant Greeks! my sad fortune deplore,
No _pigeon_ takes wing to the Gallican shore;
And the nation, composed of sly slippery elves,
Admits of no _plucking_, except by themselves;
Whilst Bourbon the pious, to vermin-like rats,
Grants Licences special, for _doing the flats_.
Ye haunts of St James’s! ye Cyprian fair!
How sweet your amusements! how _winning_ your air!
Long, long have I served you, and valued you well,
From the Regent’s proud palace, to Bennet Street _hell_,
Where nobles and simples alike take their swing,
With th’ intention of being _at all in the ring_.
Their eyes are attracted with rouleaus of gold,
Or with thousands in paper, so neat in the fold:
Impatient they view them, and seize them elate,
And, when pocketing most, they most swallow the bait.
There’s N—g—nt’s proud lord, who, to angle for pelf,
Will soon find the secret of diddling himself;
There’s H—rb—rt, who, lately, as knowing ones tell,
Won a tight seven hundred at house in Pall Mall;
Captain D—v—s, who, now, is a chick of the game,
But, although in _high feather_, the odds will soon tame;
And the Marquis of Bl—ndf—rd, who _touch’d ‘em up rare_,
For a thousand in Bennet Street (all on the square),
Where a service of plate gives a _shine_ to the job,
The whole made of crowns from young gentlemen’s fob.
There’s Ll—yd and C—m—ck, who’d a martinette be;
For none _drills_ a guinea more ably than he—
So his adjutant told him (a pretty good wipe,
Which the Colonel accepted and put in his pipe).
There’s a certain rum baronet every one knows,
Who, on Saturday nights to the _two sevens_ goes;
With J—— and Cl——, Billy W—— and two more,
So drunk that they keep merry hell in a roar;
Long D—b—n, thin C—rt—r, a son of a gun,
Bill B——, the Doctor, that figure of fun:
They have all won a little, and now _are in force_,
But they’ll find that it soon will return to its source:
The knowing ones watch them, and give them their fill,
And they’ll soon be reduced to discounting their bill.
* * * * *
In fine, ev’ry object of popular fame,
Old hens, youthful chickens and cocks of the game,
Though distant, I ever shall keep you in view;
For all my enjoyments were centred in you.
To A. B.’s and Bailiff’s I waft a sad tear;
For I know they have found me a friend that was _dear_;
And the Bill-doers, too, who have fleeced Johnny Raw,
And, lastly, the Jem’men who _follow_ the law.
To the tradesmen who tick, a remembrance most kind,
I thus send, and assure them that Fortune is blind.
This truth is a sad one; I’ve learn’d it too late;
But ‘twill serve those, who now may take heed from my fate:
For the purses of others, ‘tis pretty well known,
I look’d too, but ne’er had an _eye_ to my own;
For which my Annuitants sternly refuse
My freedom, and, thereby have _narrowed my views_.
Time was, when so splendid, so gay, debonair,
I’ve had of these vermin a brace at my chair,
The slaves of my chamber, the shades at my doors,
Subservient, and bowing obedience by scores;
For, _soit dit en passant_, when ruin’d’s a rake,
The greater’s the plunder his liv’rymen make:
Then, the produce of filching, to noble in need,
Is lent out on annuity, mortgage, or deed:
So, the Peer, or the Commoner going to rack,
May sit with his Creditor stuck at his back,
Unconscious, howe’er, of so monstrous a bore,
The effects of a C—rp—w, a S—dl—y, or M—re,
Who the _parties_ procure, ‘mongst such miscreant trash;
For nothing’s degrading in touching the cash—
A pound is the same, both in value and weight,
Though it came from the basest, or first in the State.
I grieve, whilst I think of the years which have flown,
Of the thousands I’ve squandered, the pleasures I’ve known,
Of the many occasions, which fortune has cast
In my way to be rich, which I slighted as fast—
How oft’, independent I might have retired
With enough to live happy—nay, more than required:
But Greeks are like Cyprians, and Fate has decreed
That they both should spend fortunes, and perish in need;
That their treasures, with dreams of enchantment, should pass,
And leave them no solace, except from the—glass;
That, at length, youth and beauty, good luck, and foul play,
Should all thrive a season—then vanish away.”
This pamphlet, which has a companion called “The Pigeons,” gives a very
curious list of the most fashionable gaming houses in existence in 1817.
“Of _hells_ in general, it may be said that they are _infernally_
productive, since Mr T—l—r finds that the banking business is nothing
compared to these money mills, and since so many fortunes have been
made from them. Who would think that a man could _rise_ from one of
these _lower regions_ to a seat in Parliament? or that high military
rank could be purchased by ‘The Colour’s red’—‘Gentlemen, make your
game!’
Major-General R—— w, M.P., thus got his high promotion and his seat
in the British Senate; for his papa was _n’importe_; but, progressively
(and in a very odd way too), he got a little money, which, placing in
a hell of which he was proprietor, he soon purchased an estate, and
bought his son on in the army. Many other instances, too tedious to
mention, have occurred of fortune thus made.
By a house of fashionable resort being called a club-house, the
proprietors are enabled to exclude _wolves in sheep’s clothing_, _i.e._
spies and informers; for, by taking a mere trifle for a subscription,
you get a knowledge of the subscriber, whether a _good man and true,
or not_; and, being entered in a book—before he can _turn over a new
leaf_, he may be _turned to_ good account.
Where the houses are not really, or apparently, club-houses, large
sums are often paid to police officers, as well as to more imposing
informers, who contrive to introduce themselves. Bob Holloway pretty
well knew this, as he was, literally, in the pay of all of them, of
which more may be said in time and place. Hush money varies according
to the magnitude of the concern, from £250 to £1000 per annum.
NO. 77 ST JAMES’S STREET.
NICK-NAMED THE TWO SEVENS.
_Firm: Messrs T. C. C. T._
Here is a _rouge et noir_ table; the best possible treatment may be
depended upon, as well as great civility and great circumspection
in not lending money but to well-known people. The _firm_ attends
very constantly, and a certain lawyer watches most attentively the
transactions of the house. The bank won’t set you above £50; this
is the common plan; and it gives a decided advantage to the bank,
as the loser has less chance of bringing himself back than if play
was unlimited, as in France. Upon the whole, the French first-rate
gaming-houses beat our hells hollow, and they are carried on upon a
much more extensive, handsome, and attractive plan: but 77 has that
‘Within which far surpasseth show.’—_Hamlet._
They are scurvy about refreshments here, and very apt to grumble if
a customer have a run of luck. On the other hand, however, a Prussian
Officer, not very long ago, made a devil of a row about losing a very
large sum, but all in vain.
Cerberus, who waits at the door, has a particularly watchful eye and a
rare nose for a police officer. Mistakes, however, have occurred.
The produce of this bank (which Paddy B—— calls the Devil’s
Exchequer, whence you get neither principal nor interest), furnishes
carriages, town and country houses, and all the luxuries of life: and
may, perhaps, one day send a Member to Parliament or a General to the
field, like Mrs R—— w’s concern; no house can have a better chance,
as no house is better situated for the purpose. We would, however,
advise the dealer to be less slovenly and liable to mistake than he is.
The house is now shut up.
* * * * *
Opposite this house is a hazard table, which never opens until
midnight, and is attended by the ultra royalists and officers of all
the regiments of guards, horse and foot, besides decided amateurs.
BENNET STREET, ST JAMES’S.
CORNER HOUSE—RED BAIZE DOOR—_called_ A CLUB HOUSE.
_Firm: Messrs Fielder, Miller and Carlos. Formerly Fielder, Roubel,
Miller and Co._
This is what is called a topping house, where high rank and title
resort. We mentioned in the poem the luck of a certain Duke’s son
there; and, of late, there has been a lucky run in favour of the
frequenters of the bank—but _lauda finem_. Its crisis has arrived.
The noble Marquess, on the night that he lost the money at No. 40
which was closed against him, went full charged with the Tuscan
grape, and attacked poor Fielder, _vi et pugnis_, and, at length, was
necessitated to leave this house also.
Here, all things are in a very high style, served on plate, et cetera.
It is supposed that the _customer’s specie_ is melted down to furnish
this luxury, which is reversing the ordinary plan: it is, commonly, the
family plate which is melted by the gamester into specie; but here it
is the current coin which is molten and shaped into salvers, waiters,
&c. This is, however, all in the way of business; for we have heard of
parson’s wives having silk gowns made out of burial scarves, and we
know a presbyterian minister who has converted mourning rings into a
splendid piece of plate. Therefore, why should not these conveyancers
of property, convey a portion into their wives and mistress’s pockets,
or _ridicules_, and transform guineas into gold snuff boxes; or crowns,
&c., into a service of plate?
The receipts of these houses are immense: We know the wife of a
proprietor of a hell, not an hundred miles from St James’s Palace, who
was so majestic in her deportment, and so magnificent in her attire,
that she gained the name of _Proserpine_.
The neighbourhood of Bennet Street is very convenient: if a pigeon be
refused admittance on the score of not being known, and receive the
_stale answer_—‘Sir, this house is only open to the gentlemen of the
Club,’ he has only to _go down_ St James’s Street into the Square or
to Pall Mall, and he will find accommodation all the way: the descent
is _easy_ even to the most intoxicated dandy or guardsman, who will
experience the truth of the ‘_facilis descensus Averni_.’
NO. 10 ST JAMES’S SQUARE.
A _low_ HOUSE, HUMOUROUSLY CALLED _the Pigeon hole_.
_Firm: Abbot Watson, Davies, Fearlove, Leach, and Holdsworth._
This snug little _trap_ is doing remarkably well. _Fama volat_, that
it has netted thirty thousand within twelve months. Whether the exact
sum, in so very small a time be true or not, we cannot pretend to say;
but we know that a great deal of work is done there, and it is said to
have divided twenty-seven thousand in the half-year ending Midsummer
1817.
A certain little doctor is a great friend (we do not say a decoy) to
the house, and, of course, a great favourite. There are many links to
this chain; and a good bill would be done there, or an I.O.U. taken
from _gem’men_ of respectability.
There is a _littleness_ about the concern, both outside and inside; and
your topping Greeks prefer a larger scale of establishment. The firm,
notwithstanding, goes on slow and sure; and there is no saying what
they may realise with time, brisk trade and good customers, although
great complaints are made of emigrations to France, the Insolvent
Act, the want of _honour_ in the young men of the present day, and,
_especially, of our disclosures of their mysteries_. The north country
dialect is here spoken in perfection.
One of the firm is _Abbot_, of a religious establishment of a somewhat
different kind. It is a _nunnery_, to which confessors are, of course,
admitted at the usual hours, on the terms, to use a sporting phrase, of
play, or pay. This Abbot is said to be worth nearly a hundred thousand
pounds. ‘Two strings to my bow’ is his suitable motto, for he has a
wife and family also.
He is more _parsimonious_ than abstemious, as befits the order of
which he is the worthy principal, and of which we shall furnish a
ludicrous instance. He once had particular occasion for a sovereign.
Now, how could he save his money? He was extricated by a most
delightful thought, and he, accordingly, sat down to play against his
own firm for _one pound_. Oh! what a slippery jade is Fortune! Luck
was against him, and he rose IN DEBT to the bank, little short of
£500. His junior partners, however, most liberally (it is said) took
the entire case into their serious consideration, and FORGAVE HIM
THE DEBT! What other house can produce an instance of such splendid
munificence?—Lieut. N—— g, R.N., has lately extracted from the
house above £2000. They would almost as soon see the devil as the
lieutenant, for Fortune has never deserted him hitherto:—but, even
this, like a fire to insurance offices, or a large prize in a lottery,
is not without its good effects! It is, after all, baiting with sprats
to catch salmon. We are happy to find that this officer has been so
prudent as to retire on his good luck!
To Mr Holdsworth, quitting a neighbouring hell under more respectable
circumstances, pocketing a trifle of what is so easily gained, can,
he thinks, be no very great harm. However, it now became absolutely
necessary that he should do business on his own account, when
circumstances utterly prevented his doing it on the account of others.
Papa Leach advanced the needful, and he is, as we see, one of this firm.
Perhaps Mr Watson may have some recollection, however imperfect, of
Messrs Crook and Co., of York Street, Covent Garden, his old masters.
We may, probably, at a future opportunity, assist the elucidation of
some occurrences in that quarter. We believe that Mr Crook never speaks
of him with any particular respect! It was here that Mr L—— p D—— s
lately won nearly £5000 of Crockford, Kelly, Lavisne, &c. It is a great
chance if they have not obtained their revenge ere this.
A singular escape was recently sustained here by Major A—— y. He
is not only a man of mettle, but of _metal_; in plain English, he has
money, and was allowed partial success, _pour encourager les autres_.
We only _suppose_ that arrangements were made for his next appearance.
All were silent and ready. The anxious moment arrived, St James’s clock
struck nine,—the customary signal to begin,—yet he had not arrived:
therefore, it was thought advisable to commence operations. The company
loudly expressed impatience and offence at waiting for anyone. The
house conceded, and lo! the cards were dealt—when, to the astonishment
and dismay of the company, there were _fifteen trente et un et après_,
in one deal! wonderful! mysterious chance! The Major entered at this
critical moment, and took out his well-stored pocket-book; but, when he
learnt what had happened, and saw his narrow escape, he coolly returned
it to his pocket, saying, as he retired, ‘I will never enter a house
where such a _chance_ has happened!!’ We need not be surprised at the
sum which THIS firm is said to have cleared.
They affect to carry their heads high, and to despise common menaces,
saying, that THEY have the countenance of the Hon. Messrs——, sons of
a high and most esteemed legal character.
MRS LEACH’S, NO. 6 KING STREET, ST JAMES’S.
Is a particularly snug and quiet shop, and the name of the proprietor
is singularly appropriate. This concern is suspended.
THE ELDER DAVIS, NO. 10 KING STREET, ST JAMES’S.
Is but a small affair, recently opened. It gets on swimmingly.
NO. 40 PALL MALL.
_Firm: Messrs Roubel, Fuller and Hewetson. Formerly Roubel, Fielder,
Miller and Co._
_Parlez moi de cela!_ a Frenchman would say directly on entering this
establishment. It is more _à la Française_, and, of course, more of
a gambling house than any of the others. The firm are good judges of
these matters, and _do things_ in very good form.
There is great variety; and the addresses of some lovely frail ones
may be had. This is an equal advantage to Greek and Pigeon—_Tros
Tyrius ve_. Besides the ‘sprightly dance they so dearly love,’ dull
Sunday don’t stand in their way as in other places. Here, also, they
have borrowed from the Continental manners.
This concern is a thriving one, although a prodigious hoax was
practised on them the year before last, when thieves, in the characters
of police officers, led on by an ‘alien’ disguised in the habiliments
of officers of the foot guards, introduced themselves, and carried
off all the cash, to the great discomfiture of the party, and to the
alarm of the respectable visitors there assembled. Colonel N—— g went
off like a shot; many forgot to _take their change_; and some young
bloods were thought to have taken more than their change: it was a most
delicious scamper. The Argus-eyed attendants have been more vigilant
ever since; and a dark-looking man in a greatcoat, or other suspicious
habit, is very much watched.
We felicitate the town on this establishment: it is the most attractive
to the Greeks, and the most expeditive to the pigeon who wishes to be
soon _done_; for what will not women, play, and good cheer effect?
Here, if a man escape one way, he must be sure to fall another; and,
it may be observed, that the adventurous youth may tell his tale in a
small compass—
‘Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim.’
We hear that something of a schism exists among the proprietors of
this house. It is too _good_ a thing, however, to break up. While on
this subject, we would ask Mr Miller, whether he and George Shade, the
printer, did not bamboozle—— and—— and—— and—— out of a round
sum, on the suppression of a certain pamphlet?
The Lisle Street, Panton Street, and Covent Garden _hells_ are _below_
notice, compared to those foregoing ones, so near the Court, and
enjoying such _deserved_ celebrity.
71 PALL MALL.
_Firm: Taylor, Phillips, Lowe and Fielder._
The ex-banker of Southwark, we apprehend, finds his connection with
Mr Phillips more lucrative than that with Sir M. B——. Much might
have been said on this establishment, but we have our reasons for not
entering into details at present. Mr Phillips has been abroad, and,
consequently, gives himself the airs of a travelled man, sets up for
an _homme d’esprit_, fancies himself clever, and thinks he may be
MIS_taken_ for a gentleman.
‘Oh! formose puer, nimium te crede colori!’
We have not done with you. We remember Sir John Lade. Of Captain Lowe,
we can only say, that he deserves a better fate.
SUNDAY HOUSES.
Our moral readers may start at the designation of this department;
yet common sense will tell them that, as the Sunday Houses are but
few, their profits must be the greater. Don’t tell me about religion,
morality, decorum, etc. Those who hear _gentlemen_ express themselves
in these sinks of corruption, will at once discover that they are men
of the world, who can adapt their conversation to their hearers. First
under this head is
77 JERMYN STREET.
_George Smith, George Pope and Co._
The scenes which nightly occur at this house, beggar all description.
It is a hazard table, where the chances are little in favour of
the uninitiated player. The first proprietor is low in stature as
in breeding, a corpulent, self-sufficient, strutting, coxcombical,
irreligious prig. Mr P. is a respectable, decent, modest personage
enough in his way. He is humble, and is forced to succumb to the other,
who is the monied partner. Many tradesmen, broken, breaking, or in the
_right way_, honour this house with their presence. This house, not
being large enough for its trade, the proprietors have opened another
in St James’s Street.
OLDFIELD, BENNET AND CO.,
_27 Bury Street._
Mr Oldfield is not a well-proportioned man. He has red hair, and soon
betrays his dunghill origin. He is a pragmatical, bloated, officious,
flippant coxcomb, with the _tout-ensemble_ of a waiter.
At the Sunday houses, Mr Kelly, proprietor of the public rooms at
Cheltenham, which are not sufficient for him, is a steady hand, and,
being a stout stentor of an Hibernian, keeps all his comrades in great
awe. He, like Lord Y——, frequently plays by deputy; but that is only
for small sums. However, like the bear in the boat of Gay—
‘—— He thought there might be picking
Even in the breast bone of a chicken.’
Bennet of Jermyn Street is tall and robust, with black hair and eyes,
and a rather blue beard; and, as for Crockford, ‘Do you know me?
Excellent well! You’re a fishmonger.’”
CHAPTER VIII
Crockford’s Club—His Life—His new Club-house—Epigrams thereon—Ude
and the Magistrate—Description of Club-house—Anecdotes of
Crockford’s.
_À propos_ of Crockford, or Crockey, as he was familiarly called, his
was perhaps the most celebrated gambling house in London, and deserves
especial mention. It was on the site now occupied by the Devonshire
Club, No. 50 St James’s Street.
William Crockford was born in 1775, his father being a fishmonger in
a small way of business, having a shop adjoining Temple Bar, which was
pulled down in 1846. His father dying when he was young, the business
was carried on, first by his mother, and afterwards by himself, but
he soon took to betting and gambling, became a proficient at cards,
and was more particularly skilled in the games of whist, piquet and
cribbage; he frequented the better kind of sporting houses in the
neighbourhood of St James’s market, where the latter game, more
especially, was much played, and for large sums, by opulent tradesmen
and others. He made some money at gambling, became connected with
a gaming house in King Street, St James’s, and then he turned his
attention to horse racing; frequenting Tattersalls as a bookmaker,
and becoming the owner of race horses. He had a splendid mansion and
grounds at Newmarket, where he trained his stud, and at one time owned
the celebrated horse Sultan, the sire of Bay Middleton, who won the
Derby in 1836. But the roguery at Newmarket was too much even for
him, and he sold his racing stud, and confined himself to his London
businesses. About this time he is metrically described in a little
pamphlet called “Leggiana,” which described the _Legs_ who used to
frequent The Sun tavern in Jermyn Street.
“Seated within the box, to window nearest,
See _Crocky_, richest, cunningest, and queerest
Of all the motley group that here assemble
To sport their blunt, chaff, blackguard and dissemble;
Who live (as slang has termed it) on the mace,
Tho’ _Crocky’s_ heavy pull is, now, _deuce ace_.
His wine, or grog, as may be, placed before him,
And looking stupid as his mother bore him,
For _Crock_, tho’ skilful in his betting duty,
Is not, ‘twill be allowed, the greatest beauty;
Nor does his _mug_ (we mean no disrespect)
Exhibit outward sign of intellect;
In other words, old _Crocky’s_ chubby face
Bespeaks not inward store of mental grace;
Besides, each night, he’s drunk as any lord,
And clips his mother English every word.
His head, howe’er, tho’ thick to chance beholders,
Is screw’d right well upon his brawny shoulders;
He’s quick as thought, and ripe at calculation,
Malgrè the drink’s most potent visitation.
His pencil, list, and betting book on table,
His wits at work, as hard as he is able,
His odds matur’d, at scarce a moment’s pains,
Out pops the offspring of his ready brains,
In some enormous, captivating wager,
‘Gainst one horse winning _Derby_, _Oaks_ and _Leger_.
The bait is tak’n by some astonished wight,
Who chuckles, thinking it a glorious bite,
Nor takes the pains the figures o’er to run,
And see, by calculation, that _he’s done_;
While _Crocky_ books it, cash, _for certain, won_.
And why, forsooth, is _Crocky_ to be blamed
More than those legs who’re _honourable_ named,
Whose inclination is plain sense to jockey,
But who lack brains to _work the pull_ like _Crocky_?
Who, by the way, gives vast accommodation,
Nor bothers any one by litigation.
And, if a bet you’d have, you’ve nought to do,
But give it _Crock_, and, with it, _sovereigns two_;
You’ll quickly, if you win it, touch the treasure,
For _Crock_ (unlike some legs) dubs up with pleasure.”
Crockford was indicted on several occasions, and by different persons,
for his share in the nuisance of the public gaming-house in King
Street; but his policy always led him to a settlement of the matter
with the prosecutor, in preference to the risk of imprisonment and the
treadmill.
On one occasion an indictment was preferred, and a true bill found
against him and others, for keeping the before-mentioned house; and it
was not without difficulty and delay, creative of direful alarm, that
the matter could be arranged so as to prevent the parties being brought
to trial.
The prosecutor was a person known as Baron d’A——, who formerly held
a commission in the German Legion. This gentleman had been desperate,
and, of course, unfortunate in his speculation at _rouge et noir_; and,
at last, lost not only his pay, but the proceeds of the sale of his
commission. Thus reduced, he became equally desperate in determination,
and occasionally made demands and levied contributions from the parties
who had won from him, but, compliance with such demands becoming less
frequent and less willing, he resorted to the process of indictment,
and made Crockford one of the objects of his attack. On the true bill
being found, Crockford put in the necessary bail; between the period
of which and the day appointed for trial, communication was opened
with the baron, with a view to amicable settlement and non-appearance
of the prosecutor on the day of trial; but in the negotiation
Crockford’s party relied too much on the poverty and distress of the
baron, believing that the griping hand of necessity would oblige him
to accept any offered sum to relieve his wants. Under such belief
an inconsiderable amount was tendered, but refused. The baron had,
fortunately for him, met with a shrewd adviser, who persuaded him to
hold out against any overtures short of a handsome consideration; and
he did so, notwithstanding the fact that a considerable advance had
been made on the original sum offered to him.
The eve of trial approached, and Crockford’s alarm was great. At
length came the eventful day of his appearance at Clerkenwell Sessions.
What was to be done? Incarceration and hard labour stared him in the
face, and with them all the evil consequences connected with his
absence from his newly established club.