gentleman, were at the inn at the time when the duel was fought. They
went into the garden, and endeavoured to prevent the duel; Mr Rowlls
desired his Lordship and others not to interfere; and, on a second
attempt of his Lordship to make peace, Mr Rowlls said, if they did
not retire, he must, though reluctantly, call them impertinent. Mr
England, at the same time, stepped forward, and took off his hat; he
said—‘Gentlemen, I have been cruelly treated; I have been injured in
my honour and character; let reparation be made, and I am ready to have
done this moment.’ Lady Dartrey retired. His Lordship stood in the
bower of the garden until he saw Mr Rowlls fall. One, or two, witnesses
were called, who proved nothing material. A paper, containing the
prisoner’s defence, being read, _the Earl of Derby_, _the Marquis of
Hertford_, _Mr Whitbread, jun._, _Col. Bishopp, and other gentlemen_,
were called to his character. They all spoke of him as a man of
_decent, gentlemanly deportment_, who, instead of seeking quarrels,
was studious to avoid them. He had been friendly to Englishmen while
abroad, and had rendered some service to the military at the siege of
Newport.
“Mr Justice Rooke summed up the evidence; after which, the jury
retired for about three-quarters of an hour, when they returned a
verdict of _Manslaughter_.
“The prisoner, having fled from the laws of his country for twelve
years, the Court was disposed to show no lenity. He was, therefore,
sentenced to pay a fine of one shilling, and be imprisoned in Newgate
for twelve months.”
We have a terrible instance in a man, otherwise amiable in all
relations of life, of the infatuation for the Turf. Lord Foley, who
died July 2, 1793, entered upon the Turf with an estate of £18,000 a
year, and £100,000 ready money. He left it with a ruined constitution,
an incumbered estate, and not a shilling of ready money!
Here are three paragraphs from the _Times_ about this date relative to
racing:
_17th April 1794._ “Poor _Newmarket_ is completely done up! The Spring
meeting boasts so few bets in the calendar of gambling, that the
chance will not pay post chaise hire to the black legs. Thus falls the
destructive sport of the Turf—and, as that is the case, it would do
honour to his Majesty to change the _Kings Plates_ into rewards for the
_improvement of Agriculture_.” This suggestion has been carried out in
the present reign.
_25th May 1795._ “The Duke of Queensberry was a principal loser at
Epsom Races. The noble Duke had his vis-a-vis, and six horses, driving
about the course, with two very pretty _emigrées_ in it. The Duke was
in his cabriolet. The Duke of Bedford, Lords Egremont and Derby were,
also, on the course. Several carriages were broken to pieces; and one
Lady had her arm broken.
“There was much private business done in the _swindling way_ at the
last Epsom Races. One black legged fellow cleared near a thousand
pounds by the old trick of an E.O. Table. Another had a _faro table_,
and was on the eve of _doing business_, when he was detected with
a _palmed card_: almost the whole of what may be justly styled the
‘vagabond gamblers’ of London were present.
“Mr Bowes, half brother of the Earl of Strathmore, was robbed of a
gold watch, and a purse containing 30 guineas, at Epsom races, on
Thursday last. Many other persons shared a similar fate, both on the
same evening, and Friday. Upwards of 30 carriages were robbed, coming
from the races.”
_8th Sep. 1797._ “Never, since _racing_ was patronised by the _Merry
Monarch_, has the Turf been so much on the decline as at this period.
His Grace of Bedford is the only person who retains a considerable
stud. Lord Grosvenor has disposed of nearly the whole of his, with the
reserve of two, or three, capital horses, and some few brood mares.”
CHAPTER XIV
Match between Mrs Thornton and Mr Flint—Its sequel—Daniel Dawson
poisons horses—Origin of Bookmaking—Turf frauds—The “Ludlow”
scandal—The “Plenipo” fraud—Reports of Select Committee on Gaming,
1844.
The singular contest which took place between Mrs Thornton[51] and Mr
Flint in 1804 was the talk of its time. An intimacy existed between the
families of Col. Thornton and Mr Flint, the two ladies being sisters.
In the course of one of their rides in Thornville Park, the lady of
Colonel Thornton and Mr Flint were conversing on the qualities of their
respective horses; the difference of opinion was great, and the horses
were occasionally put at full speed for the purpose of ascertaining the
point in question; old Vingarillo, on whom the lady rode, distancing
his antagonist every time. Which so discomforted Mr Flint, that he was
induced to challenge the lady to ride on a future day. The challenge
was readily accepted, and it was agreed that the race should take place
on the last day of the York August meeting 1804. This curious match was
announced in the following manner:—
“A match for 500 gs., and 1000 gs. bye—four miles—between
Colonel Thornton’s Vingarillo and Mr Flint’s br. h. Thornville by
Volunteer—Mrs Thornton to ride her weight against Mr Flint’s.”
On Sunday, August the 25th, this race took place, and the following
description of it appeared in the _York Herald_:—
“Never did we witness such an assemblage of people as were drawn
together on the above occasion—100,000, at least. Nearly ten times the
number appeared on Knavesmire than did on the day when Bay Malton ran,
or when Eclipse went over the course, leaving the two best horses of
the day a mile and a half behind. Indeed, expectation was raised to the
highest pitch, from the novelty of the match. Thousands from every part
of the surrounding country thronged to the ground. In order to keep the
course as clear as possible, several additional people were employed;
and, much to the credit of the 6th Light Dragoons, a party of them,
also, were on the ground on horseback, for the purpose, and which,
unquestionably, was the cause of many lives being saved.
“About four o’clock, Mrs Thornton appeared on the ground, full of
spirit, her horse led by Colonel Thornton, and followed by two
gentlemen; afterwards appeared Mr Flint. They started a little past
four o’clock. The lady took the lead for upwards of three miles, in
most capital style: her horse, however, had much the shorter stroke of
the two. When within a mile of being home, Mr Flint pushed forward, and
got the lead, which he kept. Mrs Thornton used every exertion; but,
finding it impossible to win the race, she drew up, in a sportsmanlike
style, when within about two distances.
“At the commencement of the running, bets were 5 and 6 to 4 on
the lady; in running the first three miles 7 to 4 and 2 to 1 in
her favour. Indeed, the oldest sportsman on the stand thought she
must have won. In running the last mile the odds were in favour of
Mr Flint. Never, surely, did a woman ride in better style. It was
difficult to say whether her horsemanship, her dress, or her beauty,
were most admired—the _tout ensemble_ was _unique_. Her dress was a
leopard-coloured body, with blue sleeves, the rest buff and blue cap.
Mr Flint rode in white. The race was run in nine minutes and fifty-nine
seconds.
“Thus ended the most interesting race ever ran upon Knavesmire. No
words could express the disappointment felt at the defeat of Mrs
Thornton. The spirit she displayed, and the good humour with which she
bore her loss, greatly diminished the joy, even of the winners.”
This exhibition of herself seems to have fired her ambition, for we
read in the _Morning Post_, Aug. 20, 1805:
“Mrs Thornton is to ride 9 st. against Mr Bromford, who is to ride 13
st. over the York Course, four miles; to run the last race on Saturday
in the next August meeting, for four hogsheads of Coti Roti p.p. and
2000 guineas h. ft.; and Mrs T. bets Mr B. 700 gs. to 600 gs. p.p.;
the 2000 gs. h. ft. provided it is declared to the Stewards four days
before starting, Mrs T. to have the choice of four horses.
“Mr B. to ride Allegro, sister to Allegranti.
“_N.B._, Colonel T., or any gentleman he may name, to be permitted to
follow the lady over the course, to assist her in case of any accident.”
But, on the eventful 24th Aug., for some reason or other, Mr Bromford
declined the race, paid forfeit, and the lady cantered over the course.
Later in the day she really had a race, which is thus described in the
_Annual Register_:
“Afterwards commenced a match, in which the above lady was to ride
two miles against Mr Buckle, the jockey, well known at Newmarket, and
other places of sport, as a rider of the first celebrity. Mrs Thornton
appeared dressed for the contest in a purple cap and waistcoat, nankeen
coloured skirts, purple shoes and embroidered stockings; she was in
high health and spirits, and seemed eager for the decision of the
match. Mr Buckle was dressed in a blue cap, with a blue bodied jacket,
and white sleeves. Mrs Thornton carried 9 st. 6 lb., Mr Buckle 13 st. 6
lbs. At half-past three they started. Mrs Thornton took the lead, which
she kept for some time; Mr Buckle then put in trial his jockeyship,
and passed the lady, which he kept for only a few lengths, when Mrs
Thornton, by the most excellent horsemanship, pushed forward, and came
in, in a style far superior to anything of the kind we ever witnessed,
gaining her race by half a neck; and, on her winning, she was hailed
with the most reiterated shouts of congratulation.
“A sad disturbance took place, in the stand, in the afternoon, in
consequence of a dispute between Mr Flint (who rode against Mrs
Thornton last year) and Colonel Thornton, respecting £1000. Mr Flint
had posted the Colonel on Thursday, and the Colonel recriminated on
Friday. This day, Mr Flint came to the stand with a new horse whip,
which he applied to the Colonel’s shoulders with great activity, in
the presence of a crowd of ladies. All the gentlemen in the place,
indignant at this gross and violent outrage, hissed and hooted him. He
was arrested by order of the Lord Mayor and several magistrates, who
were present, and given into custody of the City runners, until he can
find bail, himself in £1000, and two sureties in £500 each. Colonel
Thornton is also bound over to prosecute the party for the assault.”
The sequel to this story is told in the same Magazine, 5th Feb. 1806.
“In the Court of King’s Bench, an application was made on behalf of
Colonel Thornton, for leave to file a criminal information against Mr
Flint, for challenging him to fight a duel, and horse-whipping him
on the race ground at York last summer, &c. The quarrel arose out of
a bet of 1500 guineas which Mr Flint claims to have won of Colonel
Thornton by the race he rode against Mrs Thornton, whose bets were
adopted by her husband. Whereas Colonel Thornton maintains that,
of the bet alluded to, £1000 was a mere nominal thing, intended to
attract company to the race, and that nothing more than 500 guineas
were seriously intended by the parties. After a full hearing of the
whole case, Lord Ellenborough was of opinion, that the case before the
Court was one in which their Lordships ought not to interpose with
its extraordinary power. On the contrary, he conceived it would be
degrading its process to interfere in favour of such parties in such a
cause. Colonel Thornton had chosen to appeal to the Jockey Club, and
should have abided by their decision. He had, however, not found them
exactly fitting his notion of justice; and, therefore, for every thing
that had happened since, he must have recourse to the ordinary mode of
obtaining redress, namely, by preferring a Bill of Indictment at the
Sessions of the County. The other judges being of the same opinion,
the rule was discharged.” Flint afterwards became very poor, and was
manager at a horse bazaar at York, where he met with his end, according
to the Coroner’s jury’s verdict—“Died from taking too large a dose of
prussic acid as a medicine.”
We now come to a piece of rascality on the turf, which ended in a man
being hanged. The first heard about it is reported in the _Annual
Register_, 6th May 1811. “An occurrence has taken place at Newmarket,
which is the subject of general consternation and surprise among the
frequenters of the Turf. Several horses were entered for the Claret
Stakes, and, as usual, were taken out in the morning for exercise.
They all drank, as we understand, at one water trough. Some time after
they had been watered, six of them were observed to stagger, and then
to roll about in the greatest agony. One is since dead. On examining
the watering trough, it was found that the water had been poisoned.
The horses were the property of Mr Sitwell, Sir F. Standish, and Lord
Kinnaird. Suspicion has attached upon one of the jockies.”
_22nd July, 1812._ “Daniel Dawson was arraigned at the Cambridge
Assizes, on an indictment, with numerous counts, viz., for poisoning
a horse belonging to Mr Adams, of Royston, Herts, and a blood mare
belonging to Mr Northey, at Newmarket, in 1809; and, also, for
poisoning a horse belonging to Sir F. Standish, and another belonging
to Lord Foley in 1811, at the same place. He was tried and convicted on
the first case only.
“The principal witness was Cecil Bishop, an accomplice with the
prisoner. He had been, for some time, acquainted with Dawson, and
on application to him, had furnished him with corrosive sublimate
to sicken horses. He went on to prove that Dawson and he had become
progressively acquainted; and, that, on the prisoner complaining that
the stuff was not strong enough, he prepared him a solution of arsenic.
Witness described this as not offensive in smell; the prisoner having
informed him that the horses had thrown up their heads, and refused
to partake of the water into which the corrosive sublimate had been
infused. The prisoner complained that the stuff was not strong enough;
and, on being informed that if it was made strong it would kill the
horses, he replied that he did not mind that; the Newmarket frequenters
were rogues, and if he (meaning witness) had a fortune to lose they
would plunder him of it. The prisoner afterwards informed witness
he used the stuff, which was then strong enough, as it had killed a
hackney and two brood mares.
“Mrs Tillbrook, a housekeeper at Newmarket, where the prisoner lodged,
proved having found a bottle of liquid concealed under Dawson’s bed,
previous to the horses having been poisoned; and that Dawson was out
late on the Saturday and Sunday evenings previous to that event, which
took place on the Monday. After Dawson had left the house, she found
the bottle, which she identified as having contained the said liquid,
and which a chemist proved to have contained poison. Witness also
proved that Dawson had cautioned her that he had poison in the house
for some dogs, lest anyone should have the curiosity to taste it. Other
witnesses proved a chain of circumstances which left no doubt of the
prisoner’s guilt.
“Mr King, for the prisoner, took a legal objection that no criminal
offence had been committed, and that the subject was a matter of
trespass. He contended that the indictment must fail, as it was
necessary to prove that the prisoner had malice against the owner of
the horse, to impoverish him, and not against the animal. He also
contended that the object of the prisoner was to injure and not to
kill. The objections was overruled without reply, and the prisoner was
convicted.
“The judge pronounced sentence of death on the prisoner, and informed
him, in strong language, he could not expect mercy to be extended to
him:” and the man was duly hanged.
Another gruesome episode of the Turf was the suicide of Mr Roger
Brograve early in June 1813, owing to losses by betting. He was the
brother of Sir George Brograve, and had been a captain in the 2nd
Dragoons, and for some years had betted heavily. Originally, he had a
competent, if not a splendid fortune, but, at the previous Newmarket
meeting, he had lost heavily, and he was known to have lost £10,000 on
the Derby. This he could not meet, and he shot himself. Hundreds of
similar cases might be given, but this one must serve as an example.
That large sums were wagered and lost and won at this time we may learn
from the fact that in 1816 no less a sum than £300,000 is said to have
been paid and received at Tattersall’s in the betting settlement on
that year’s Epsom races.
Of the origin of bookmaking, Mr Dixon (The Druid) has written so well
in _The Post and the Paddock_, that I cannot do better than copy him
_verbatim_:
“Betting between one and the field was the fashion which Turf
speculation assumed in the days of powder and periwigs, and Ogden (the
only betting man who was ever admitted to the Club at Newmarket),
Davies, Holland, Deavden, Kettle, Bickham, and Watts, ruled on the
Turf ‘Change. With Jem Bland, Jerry Cloves, Myers (an ex-butler),
Richard (the Leicester Stockinger), Mat Milton, Tommy Swan of Bedale
(who never took or laid but one bet on a Sunday), Highton, Holliday,
Gully, Justice, Crockford, Briscoe, Crutch Robinson, Ridsdale, Frank
Richardson, and Bob Steward, etc., the art of bookmaking arose, and,
henceforward, what had been more of a pastime among owners, who would
back their horses for a rattler when the humour took them, and not
shrink from having £5000 to £6000 on a single match, degenerated into
a science. All the above, with the exception of two, have passed away,
like the Mastodons, never to return. Nature must have broken the mould
in which she formed the crafty Robinson, as he leant on his crutch,
with his back against the outer wall of the Newmarket Betting Rooms,
and, with his knowing, quiet leer, and one hand in his pocket, offered
to ‘lay agin Plenipo.’
“The two Blands, Joe and ‘Facetious Jemmy,’ were equally odd hands.
Epsom had fired up the latter’s desire to come on to the turf, and
he descended from his coachman’s box at Hedley for that purpose, and
sported his ‘noble lord’ hat, white cords, deep bass voice, and vulgar
dialect, on it, for the first time, about 1812. He did not trouble
it much after he had ‘dropped his sugar’ on Shillelah, though that
_contretemps_ did not completely knock him out of time. His acute
rough expressions, such as ‘_never coomed anigh_,’ and so on, as well
as his long nose, and white, flabby cheeks, made him a man of mark,
even before he got enough, by laying all round, to set up a mansion in
Piccadilly. Joe, his brother, had, originally, been a post boy, and
rose from thence to be a stable keeper in Great Wardour Street; but,
the great hit of his life was his successful farming of turnpike gates,
at which he was supposed to have made about £25,000. ‘Ludlow Bond’ was
not so coarse in his style as this _par nobile_, but ambitious and
vain to the last degree. It was the knowledge of this latter quality,
on the part of Ludlow’s real owners, ‘the Yorkshire Blacksmith & Co.,’
which induced them to put him forward as the ostensible owner of the
horse, as no one would back a horse which was known to be theirs. Bond
liked the notoriety which this nominal ownership conferred on him, and
was, no doubt, a mere puppet, without exactly knowing who pulled the
strings. Discreditable as the affair was, he always gloried in it; in
fact he was so determined not to let the memory of it die out, that he
christened a yearling which he bought from the Duke of Grafton, ‘Ludlow
Junior.’ At times he appeared on the heath on a grey hack, and went
by the nickname of ‘_Death on the Pale Horse_’ and, shortly after the
Doncaster outburst, he came on in a handsome travelling carriage, with
two servants in livery in the rumble.
“Mr Gully, although he did great execution at the Corner in Andover’s
year, may be styled a mere fancy bettor now, and, as a judge of racing
and the points of a horse combined, he has scarcely a peer among his
own, or the younger generation of turfites. His fame at the Corner was
at its zenith a quarter of a century ago, when he was a betting partner
with Ridsdale. Rumour averred that they won £35,000 on Margrave for the
St Leger (1832), and £50,000 on St Giles for the Derby; and it was in
consequence of a dispute as to the Margrave winnings, that the Siamese
link between them was so abruptly dissolved. Their joint books also
showed a balance of £80,000 if Red Rover could only have brought Priam
to grief for the Derby. There was a joke too, soon after this time,
that Mr Gully and his friend Justice descended on to Cheltenham, and
so completely cleaned out the local ring there, that the two did not
even think it worth while stopping for the second race day. One of the
lesser lights was found wandering moodily about the ring on that day,
and remarked to a sympathiser that he was ‘looking for the few half
crowns that Gully and Justice had condescended to leave.’”
In the second quarter of this century the Turf was getting in a
scandalous condition. A fair race was hardly known for the St Leger,
and, in 1827, Mameluke was got rid of by a series of false starts.
In 1832 was the Ludlow scandal, just alluded to. This horse was the
property of a man named Beardsworth, who was such a rogue that no one
would bet on or against his horse, so it was apparently purchased by
Ephraim Bond, the keeper of a gambling house, called the Athenæum
Club, in St James’s Street. In reality it was owned by four people,
Beardsworth, Bond and his brother, and a mysterious fourth party, whose
name was not divulged. Ludlow was beaten by Margrave, a horse owned by
Gully, the ex-prize fighter, who boldly accused Squire Osbaldistone of
being the unknown fourth owner of Ludlow. The consequence was a duel,
in which both combatants had very narrow escapes; Gully especially, for
his opponent’s bullet went through his hat and ploughed a furrow in his
hair.
In 1834 Plenipotentiary, or as it was called for brevity, Plenipo,
the favourite for the St Leger, was undoubtedly “nobbled,” either by
his owner, Batson, or his trainer, George Paine, either of which were
capable of any dishonourable conduct.
There were, afterwards, many minor Turf scandals, but they culminated
in the Derby of 1844 which is known as Running Rein’s Derby, which ran
as a three-year-old, being in reality four years. As this fraud was
the subject of an action, its story may be well told in the following
synopsis of the trial.
IN THE EXCHEQUER.
_July 1._
_Before Mr Baron Alderson._
WOOD _v._ PEEL.
This action, which excited the most lively interest in the _Sporting
World_, arose out of the late Derby race at Epsom, in which a horse
belonging to the plaintiff, called Running Rein, had come in first. It
was alleged, however, that this horse had not been truly described,
that he was not of the age which qualified him to run for the Derby,
and that he ought not, therefore, to be deemed the winner of the race.
Colonel Peel, the owner of Orlando, the second horse, had claimed the
stakes, on the ground that Running Rein was not the horse represented;
and Mr Wood, the owner of Running Rein, brought this action against the
Colonel.
Mr Cockburn, who conducted the plaintiff’s case, gave the pedigree of
Running Rein, and his whole history. Among other things, Mr Cockburn
mentioned that, in October 1843, Running Rein won a race at Newmarket;
that he was objected to on the score of age, but, eventually, the
stewards had decided in his favour. The horse was, originally, the
property of Mr Goodman; and, Mr Cockburn said, it was because suspicion
attached to some transactions of Goodman, and because certain parties
had betted heavily against Running Rein, that opposition was raised
against Mr Wood receiving the stakes. He made a severe attack on Lord
George Bentinck, who, he asserted, was the real party in the cause.
Witnesses for the plaintiff described the horse at various periods of
its career: it was of a bay colour, with black legs, and a little white
on the forehead; its heels were cracked, and in 1842 it broke the skin
on one leg, which left a scar. George Hitchcock, a breaker of colts,
employed to break Running Rein in October 1842, was cross-examined to
this effect:
“I know George Dockeray, the trainer. I never said to him, ‘Damn it,
this colt has been broken before; here is the mark of the pad on his
back.’ I showed him the mark, but I never said those words, or any
words to that effect. I don’t know why I showed him the mark. It was
not big enough for the mark of a pad, and it was not the place for the
saddle to make it. I told Lord George Bentinck the same. The mark of
the pad never wears out. I recollect being asked, in the presence of Mr
Smith, what had I there? and I recollect answering, a four years’ old.
I have not the slightest doubt of it. Mr Smith struck me for it. I did
not say afterwards that I had forgotten all about the horse whipping,
and that the marks of the pad had worn out. I never said, either, that
somebody had behaved very well to me.”
At an early period of the examination of witnesses, Mr Baron Alderson
expressed a wish that he and the jury should see the horse; and Mr
Cockburn said he had no objection. On the cross-examination of William
Smith, a training groom residing at Epsom, it came out that the horse
had been smuggled out of the way, that it might not be seen by the
defendant’s agents. The Judge, animadverting on this, and on the
evident perjury of the witness, said it would be better that the horse
should be seen by him and other parties. The Solicitor-General, who
appeared for the defendant, was anxious that the horse should be seen
by veterinary surgeons. To which the other side objected, maintaining
that the mark of mouth, by which alone these surgeons could judge of
the age of a horse, was a fallible criterion.
On the conclusion of the evidence for the plaintiff, the
Solicitor-General, in addressing the jury for the defence, denounced
the case as a gross and scandalous fraud on the part of the plaintiff.
The case of the defendant was, that the horse was not Running Rein at
all, but a colt by Gladiator, out of a dam belonging originally to
Sir Charles Ibbotson; and that it had the name Running Rein imposed
upon it, being originally called Maccabeus, and having been entered
for certain stakes under that designation. But his allegations were
against Goodman, not against Mr Wood: the former had entered into a
conspiracy with other persons to run horses above the proper age. The
Gladiator colt had been entered for races, under the name of Maccabeus,
before Goodman purchased him; and to run these races while the colt was
in training for the Derby, for which he was entered as Running Rein,
Goodman hired an Irish horse, which he disguised as Maccabeus, though
a year older than that horse. The Gladiator colt, the _soi distant_
Running Rein, when he ran for the Derby in 1844, was four years old,
the race being for three-year-old horses. After hearing some evidence
in support of these statements, the case was adjourned till the
following day.
The next day, when Mr Baron Alderson took his seat on the Bench, a
conversation ensued between Mr Cockburn and the Judge, respecting the
production of the horse. Mr Cockburn asserted that it had been taken
away without Mr Wood’s knowledge, and thus it was out of his power to
produce it; he felt it would be vain to strive against the effect which
must be produced by the non-production of the horse, after the remarks
of the learned judge on that point. After some more conversation,
however, the case proceeded, and two witnesses for the defence were
examined, whose evidence went to prove that Running Rein was, in fact,
the Gladiator colt. Mr George Odell, a horse dealer at Northampton,
said he could swear to that fact; the colt had two marks on one leg.
Mr Baron Alderson remarked—“Now, if we could see the horse, that
would prove the case. Who keeps him away? It is quite childish to act
in this manner.”
Mr Cockburn now stated that Mr Wood was convinced that he had been
deceived, and gave up the case.
Mr Baron Alderson then briefly addressed the jury with much warmth, and
in a most emphatic manner; directing them to find a verdict for the
defendant, observing:
“Since the opening of the case, a most atrocious fraud has been proved
to have been practised; and I have seen, with great regret, gentlemen
associating themselves with persons much below themselves in station.
If gentlemen would associate with gentlemen, and race with gentlemen,
we should have no such practises. But, if gentlemen will condescend to
race with blackguards, they must expect to be cheated.”
The jury found for the defendant, and the effect of their verdict was
that the Derby Stakes went to Orlando, and that Crenoline should be
considered the winner of the Two-Year-Old Plate at Newmarket, run the
previous year.
This ought to have been sufficient roguery, one would think, for one
race, but it was not. A horse named Ratan was so evidently “nobbled,”
that two men connected with it, Rogers and Braham, were warned off all
the Jockey Club’s premises.
And yet another case. A horse named Leander ran in this race, and so
injured its leg that it was shot. Shortly afterwards, it was suspected
that it was four instead of three years old, and on its being exhumed,
_the lower jaw was missing_. The resurrectionists, however, cut off the
head, and veterinary experts confirmed the previous suspicions. For
this, the owners, Messrs Lichtwald, were for ever disqualified from
racing. This case occupied much time before the Select Committee of the
House of Lords.
The Select Committee on Gaming in the Commons in 1844 report
that “Your Committee have some evidence to show that frauds are,
occasionally, committed in Horse racing, and in Betting on the Turf;
but they feel difficulty in suggesting any remedy for this evil, more
stringent, or more likely to be effectual, than those already in
existence.”
The House of Lords reported in similar terms, but they added: “The
Committee have inquired into certain transactions which have, lately,
been brought before the Courts of Law, arising from the fraudulent
practices of Individuals substituting other horses for those named in
stakes which are limited to horses of a certain age, and thus obtaining
the advantages arising from running, at even weights, Three-year-olds
against Two-year-olds, and Four-year-olds against Three-year-olds. The
success, however, which has attended the prosecutions instituted for
the Recovery of the Stakes thus unjustly won, and the rules which the
Committee are led to believe will be, hereafter, strictly attended to,
as to the examination, by competent persons, of all horses which may be
objected to, render it unnecessary for them to make any further comment
upon this part of their inquiry.”
But the Commons Committee reported on another subject, the
Gaming-houses in race towns, and the Gaming-booths on the courses.
“The suppression of Gaming-houses in race towns, and in other places
out of the Metropolitan Police District, is to be effected under the
common law, and under the enactment of Statutes different from the
Metropolitan Police Act. Much laxity and neglect have, hitherto,
prevailed in this respect; and your Committee think that the attention
of Magistrates might, usefully, be directed to this matter. But, if
it should be found that the powers given by the existing law are
insufficient, your Committee would recommend that additional powers
should be conferred.
“Your Committee have found that it is the practice on some race
courses to let out ground for the erection of Gaming-booths, during the
races, in order that the high rents paid by the keepers of these booths
may be added to the fund from whence prizes to be run for are to be
given; and some of the witnesses examined have stated that certain race
meetings, which they have named, could not be kept up, if this practice
were to be discontinued.”
CHAPTER XV
Gambling on Race Courses—E.O. tables—Description of Race
Courses—Evidence before the Committee—Description of the
betting-rooms at Doncaster in 1846—Beginning of tipsters and
betting-rooms.
This system of gambling on race courses began the previous century. In
Canto I. of _The Gambler’s, A Poem_, Lon. 1777, we read:
“But, chief, we see a bricking, sharping sort,
_Span farthing_, _Hustle Cap_, their joy and sport;
The sport of infancy! ‘till riper age
Mature the man, and call him to the stage.
In each shoot forth the dawning seeds of vice,
The growing Jockey, or the man of Dice.
Some prick the Belt, self tutor’d, young in sin,
Anxious to take their wond’ring fellows in.
Here, a surrounding groupe of little Squires,
As chink the brazen belts, Chuck farthing fires:
While _Sçavoir-vivres_ early signs betray
Of bold adventures, and the rage of play.
These, haply shall some future bard engage,
The hopeful _Kelly’s_[52] of the rising age.
But, when maturer years confirm the sin,
And opening minds suck the dear poison in,
Adieu, _Span farthing_! _Hustle Cap_, farewell!
With nobler passions, nobler views, they swell:
Dice, tennis, Cards, inferior sports succeed,
And the gay triumph of the High bred Steed.”
Complaints of racecourse gambling began early in the present century.
In the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1801 (p. 327) we read: “Mr Urban—As
the quarter sessions will take place in most parts of England in
the course of the present month, I wish, through the medium of your
extensively circulated Magazine, to submit to the serious consideration
of the County Magistrates, the absolute necessity for adopting some
vigorous measures, in order to check the career of those infamous
swindlers, who are in the constant habit of attending our fairs and
races with E.O. tables, &c. It is an alarming fact that there is
scarcely a fair, or a race, of the least celebrity, which is not
infested with these villains, many of whom clear £500 annually by
plundering the unsuspecting rustics, who attend such places, of their
property.”
Goldsmith, in his life of Beau Nash, tells us that E.O. was first set
up at Tunbridge, in the reign of George I., and was introduced into
Bath by Nash: and, as the game was a very popular one, I give the
following description of it, as found in Rice’s _History of the British
Turf_:
“The E.O. table was circular in form, and, though made in various
sizes, was, commonly, four feet in diameter. The outside edge formed
the counter, or _depôt_, on which the stakes were placed, and was
marked all round with the letters E.O. from which the game took its
name. The interior of the table consisted of a stationary gallery, in
which the ball rolled, and an independent round table, moving on an
axis, by means of handles. The ball was started in one direction, and
this rotary table turned in the other. This part was divided into forty
compartments of equal size, twenty of which were marked E. and twenty
O. The principle was pretty much as that of roulette without a zero;
but the ingenuity of the proprietors appears, at an early date in the
history of these tables, to have supplied this defect. At first the
game was played on the same terms as hazard then was, viz., whoever
won, or threw in three times successively, paid, when gold was played
for, half a guinea to the proprietors of the table. This, however,
as might have been expected, was too simple and unsophisticated a
method of procedure to last. The game was too fair; but, as it was
very popular, it must be made profitable to the man of business, who
could not be expected to travel from race meeting to race meeting
all over the country, for half guineas in cases of exceptional luck.
Accordingly, he became obliged to take all bets offered either for E.
or for O., and made two of his forty spaces into ‘bar holes.’ The name
sufficiently explains the utility of the device to the keeper of the
table. If the ball fell into either of these ‘bar holes,’ he won all
the bets on the opposite letter, and did not pay to that on which it
fell. Unfair tables, having the compartments of one letter larger than
another, abounded; but there seems to have been little necessity to
cheat at the game, as, with a proportion of two in forty, or five per
cent., in his favour, the keeper should have reaped a heavy harvest of
profit from his venture. The gentlemen who had played the game at the
time when the occasional half guinea was thought enough to remunerate
the proprietor, could hardly have liked the innovation, regarding the
five per cent. ‘pull’ against them as ‘a circumstance which, in the
long run, would infallibly exhaust the _Exchequer_’ much more than the
breeches pockets of the young squires.
The booths at Ascot Heath, and the taverns in Windsor, were, at
race time, great haunts for the keepers of the E.O. tables, some of
whom were respectable men in their calling, and might be trusted to
give twenty, or even more, shillings for a guinea; but the majority,
gambling for twopenny pieces and sixpences, were little, if anything,
better than the thimble-rig and prick-the-garter gentry of that, or
the three-card practitioners of our own, time. Ascot, indeed, was,
then, a race meeting of the first importance, and the week was a fair
of the most attractive character to the Berkshire landlords and their
tenantry. The Oatlands Stakes was transferred to Newmarket from Ascot,
after a memorable race, when a hundred thousand pounds changed hands;
and we read that the Turf was a barren and dreary prospect—for the
losers. ‘Horses are daily thrown out of training, jockeys are going
into mourning, grooms are becoming E.O. merchants, and strappers are
going on the highway.’”
In the _Quarterly Review_ for 1834, a description is given of gambling
at races, as it then was. “Doncaster, Epsom, Ascot, Warwick, and most
of our numerous race grounds and race towns are scenes of destructive
and universal gambling among the lower orders, which our absurdly
lax police never attempt to suppress; and yet, without the slightest
approach to an improperly harsh interference with the pleasures of the
people, the roulette and E.O. tables which plunder the peasantry at
these places, for the benefit of travelling sharpers (certainly equally
respectable with some bipeds of prey who drive coroneted cabs near St
James’s), might be put down by any watchful magistrate.”
The Commons Select Committee on Gaming in 1844 tells us a great deal
about the gambling at Doncaster, during race meetings. A Mr Richard
Baxter was the witness, and he said:
“The extent to which gambling has been carried on, both upon the
course, and in the town of Doncaster, has varied at different periods.
Twenty years ago, in 1824, was my first acquaintance with the matter: I
went, as a stranger, to live in Doncaster, and I found that there were
40 or 50 houses, and men stationed at the doors, and passing up and
down the streets, not only, by word, inviting the passers by to go into
those houses, but putting into their hands cards (one of which I have
here)—
TO NOBLEMEN AND GENTLEMEN.
ROULETTE.
Bank. £1000.
_At Mason’s (the Tailor), Scott Lane._
—explanatory of the game that was going on there, and, without any
secrecy, or reserve, stating the name of the party at whose house the
game was carried on.
“Being a stranger in the town, I went into almost all the houses, and
found them playing, in some with dice, and in some with balls, at the
different games, the names of all of which I do not know: but gambling
was going on to this extent, and no check to it, whatever, was put by
the local authorities. At the same time, upon the race course, the
thimble men were in hundreds, with their tables, as well as by the
roadsides on every approach to Doncaster, playing, and cheating the
people out of their money, as fast as they could induce them to play.
As I was a stranger in the place, I did not think it becoming in me,
at that time, to interfere; and, for two years following, I did no
more than speak upon the subject to the mayor and the magistrates, and
the gentlemen of the town, urging them to take some means to repress
this systematic gambling; but, in the year 1827, which was the third
year, finding that the authorities would take no notice of it, I laid
an information against one of the gambling houses, against Henry
Oldfield, who is a very noted character in gambling. I brought the
owner of the house, who is a very respectable tradesman in the town;
I brought the sister of the owner and his servants; I brought the man
who attended at the door, and invited people publicly, ‘Roulette and
Hazard going on upstairs’; I brought a gentleman, a respectable surgeon
of the town, who had been in the room, and played there. Those parties
I brought before the magistrates, they were examined upon oath. The
owner of the house denied all knowledge of the object for which the
room was let; the gentleman, who had been present, owned that he had
played, but denied his knowledge of the name of the game at which he
played; and, the result was, that the magistrates refused to convict.
No further step was taken in that year; but, in the following year,
without again speaking to the authorities, I represented the matter
to the neighbouring gentry, and the present Lord Fitzwilliam, Mr
Beckett Denison, one of the Members for the West Riding; Mr Childers,
the Member for Malton; and, perhaps, 20 or 30 other gentlemen, in the
neighbourhood, and in the town, joined in an association, professedly,
to repress gambling in the town. The rules of the association were,
that application should be made to the local authorities, and such
legal means taken, as could be made available to induce the authorities
to repress gambling. This was most respectably supported and published.
The consequence was, that we had an _émeute_ in the town: the
inhabitants assembled at a public meeting, a gentleman, who is, now,
one of the Borough Magistrates, was put into the chair, and a regular
set of speeches made against the Anti-Gambling Association, and all
parties concerned. I thought it my duty to go to the meeting; and, of
course, you may suppose, was very warmly received. I told them, very
candidly and freely, my mind upon the subject. They heard me for a
certain length of time; but, finding the chairman refused to let me go
on, I left the meeting, and had the honour of being pelted down the
street on my way home, as a recompense for the advice I had taken the
liberty of tendering them. The consequence of this _émeute_ was, that
our association fell to pieces. I am sorry to say, that the members who
composed it did not choose, in the face of the unpopularity which it
occasioned, to take any further step in it.
* * * * *
“The extent of gambling in Doncaster for the last two or three years
has been from six to twelve of the lower gambling houses and three
of the higher gambling houses. The distinction between the one class
and the other consists in this: that the lower gambling houses are
kept by men who hire a little front shop, open to the street, for the
purpose of taking mere passers-by; the higher gambling houses, many of
them houses of their own, which they have built in Doncaster, for the
purpose of gaming; a third class hire rooms of respectable tradesmen
in the town, and occupy them; and the popular opinion is, that there
are clubs, and knots of gentlemen attached to each of those houses, who
regularly go and play there. Oldfield, against whom the information was
laid in 1827, was the keeper of one of the higher gambling houses, and
I need scarcely state to the Committee that, popular as gambling is in
the town, very strong remarks are made and a very strong feeling exists
in the place, that, if the lower gambling houses are suppressed, it is
unfair to the common people that the higher gambling houses should be
permitted to continue; and, when an information is laid against the
low gambling houses, it is always matter of crimination; ‘Why did you
not lay it against the gentlemen’s houses? you are laying it against
the houses of the poor people, but you will not lay it against the
houses of the gentlemen.’ Another circumstance connected with the races
I may mention as a great public nuisance is, that the betting room,
which is a building erected simply for the purpose of betting, is open
on a Sunday, to the public, as on any other day, and during the time
of Divine service in the evening more people, I am sorry to say, are
assembled at the betting rooms than at church; and there is a continual
crowd filling half the street in front of the betting rooms the whole
of the Sunday evening. A representation on the subject was made to
the Chief Magistrate at the time, and the only answer we got to the
representation to him was that he would communicate with the parties
and endeavour to have it closed: it was closed during the morning and
afternoon services, but it was open to the public, as before, during
the evening service, and hundreds of those who are called gentlemen
were assembled there betting, and all the affairs of the races going on
quite as publicly as on any other evening of the week.
“1024.—With regard to gambling on the race course, whether by
thimble-riggers, or by roulette, or any other kind of gambling, whether
in booths or not, are the Committee to understand that that has of late
years entirely ceased to exist?—That has been suppressed.
“1025.—By the interference of the police?—Yes.”
A Mr John Rushbridger, who had charge of the ground at Goodwood, on
which the races were held, was examined, and he deposed that there were
only two gambling booths on the course, which paid £125 each for the
privilege; whilst refreshment booths were only charged 10s. or 15s.
They endeavoured, as far as possible, to keep thimble-riggers off the
course.
The Clerk of the Course at Egham said there used to be eighteen
gambling booths on the course, but now there were only fourteen,
which produced a rental of £240; but a portion of the grand stand was
let for gambling purposes, and that brought in a further sum. The
thimble-rigmen were allowed on the course, as far as the distance-post,
and formerly used to pay for the permission.
A Timothy Barnard was examined, and said he speculated in race courses.
At Egham he paid the Lord of the Manor £300 for the race course, and
cleared £240 by the gambling booths. He gave £600 for Epsom course, but
could not give £300 if he were deprived of the privilege of letting
gaming booths, because they were the mainstay of the other booths, such
as the publicans’ booths; many having their liquors and wines of them,
and therefore the publicans would not give near as much for the ground,
except for those booths. They made the thimble-riggers pay 5s. or 10s.
to be allowed on the course; they were given a little ticket which they
were obliged to wear in their hats, or their tables would be taken from
them.
In _Bentley’s Magazine_ for 1846 we get a good account of the working
of the betting rooms at Doncaster. The subscription was a guinea, and
the number of subscribers was from 1000 to 1200. “The rent paid by the
proprietary for the premises is said to be £500 per an.; but this is
reduced in its amount by the circumstance of the rooms being let off
for trading, or warehouse purposes, during ten months of the year; and
taking this reduction at the reasonable sum of £150, it would leave
£350 as the rent from the estimated subscriptions of £1050, which would
give a clear surplus of £700 per an., which alone would be a large
return of profit. But other sources of income and annual return are
open to the proprietary, by the sale of wine, spirits, soda water, and
divers refreshments, which are in almost constant demand in the great
room throughout each evening, and partially so in the day. The prices
at which these articles are sold are by no means so moderate as they
might be, even to secure a fair and liberal compensation for their
outlay, and must, on the most moderate calculation, yield £100 clear at
least in the week.
“But the _El Dorado_ or grand source of income and wealth to the
proprietors arises from the prolific revenue of the play or gaming
tables, of which there are usually six in constant nightly operation
during the racing week. The proprietors of the Subscription Betting
Rooms are not ostensibly connected in the co-partnership of the banks,
or in the business of the tables, but they are nevertheless largely
interested in the successful issue of the week, as will be shown. In
the first instance it should be stated that the sum of £350 or £400 is
_paid down_ to them by the party contracting for the tables and for the
privilege of putting down the banks. This is all clear profit, paid in
advance and without any contingency; and in addition to this apparently
large sum, so paid for the mere privilege of finding capital, there is
a stipulation also on the part of the proprietors of the rooms that
they shall receive a considerable part or share of the whole clear
profits, or gains, of the week accruing from the tables, and this
without the risk of a single shilling by them under any unlooked-for
reverse of fortune.
* * * * *
“The play tables at the Betting Rooms, are, as before noted, six,
or seven, in number, and of variety in the games played thereat. The
roulette tables attract the crowd, as well as for the reason that the
game opens to the player many modes of proportionate risk, as that it
affords him opportunity to play smaller sums on any one event, than he
can at hazard. At the former game, the lowest stake is half a crown;
at the latter, nothing less than the regal coin of a sovereign is
permitted. The pull, or percentage, of roulette against the player,
being, however, nearly five times that of hazard, the small stakes
played realise as large a result to the bankers. It requires all
the vigilance of a player to guard his interests at this game; for,
generally speaking, there is much confusion in the distribution of
money staked by the many adventurers, on the numbers, and other points
of speculation attaching to the game; and dispute, not infrequently,
arises between two or three different claimants for the produce of some
fortunate, or winning result. These contested claims often arise from
inattention in the player to the exact position of his money on the
board, but are, sometimes, occasioned by the attempt of some sharping
knave to possess himself of something which does not belong to him.
The officials at the table, too, are most dexterous in their practical
avocations,—more particularly so in the principle of drawing the money
from the losing points of the game, immediately the winning number,
&c., is called. The rapidity with which this operation is performed, is
most remarkable, and gives immense additional advantage to the bank;
for, it very often happens that, in the general sweep, the adroit
croupiers rake off much more than they are entitled to; while, on the
other hand, they can never, under any circumstances, be called upon to
pay more than the loss attaching to the event.”
Doncaster is now, I believe, very much purified, but Sir George
Chetwynd describes the gambling that went on there in 1869. “How
changed is Doncaster now, from what it was in those days! Then, after
dinner, you would go to the subscription rooms and back horses for
the Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire at 100 to 1 to win large stakes,
and even small bookmakers thought nothing of starting £20,000 books.
After making their bets, people used to go into an inner room where
hazard was being played. Hour after hour the game continued in full
swing at a table crowded with punters, with green, black, red and white
ivory counters before them denoting £10, £5, £25, and £1. There was
an impressive stillness in the room, only broken by the voice of Mr
F. Hall, one of the croupiers, who, rake in hand, gave vent to such
utterances as, ‘The Castor is backing in at seven, gentlemen. I’ll take
on the nick.’ Then came the rattle of the dice, the bang on the table
of the box, the quick announcement of the point, and the raking in of
the counters on the losing columns, by the two croupiers, one of whom
looked like a respectable tradesman, or a magistrate’s clerk. Behind
the players stood the proprietor, a tall, handsome man, with carefully
trimmed white beard and moustache, more like a general than the keeper
of a hell; his countenance immovable, except when it relaxed, as he
replied courteously to any one who addressed him.
“He is dead, so is one of the croupiers, so are half the players, old
and young, whom I first saw at the table twenty years ago, when, for
the first time, I was initiated into the mysteries of hazard, how to
dash down a ten, or dribble a four, as if, really, there was skill
about a game which consists in rattling two dice in a box, and winning,
or losing by the points they declare when rolled out on the table.”
We have seen how disreputable the Turf had become in 1844. If anything,
it became worse. A class of men sprung up, called “tipsters,” men
who pretended to have exclusive and particular stable information
which they were willing to impart to their dupes, say (to quote the
advertisement of one of the fraternity), Single events, 3s. 6d. Derby
or Oaks, 5s. each: yearly subscription, 21s.; half yearly, 10s. 6d.
That these men made a profitable business of it, there can be no
doubt, for the sporting papers were full of their advertisements, some
of them of great length: and, then, also began that curse attending
horse racing, the betting shop—which afforded a fatal facility to
all classes, to gamble, and which led to crime, and its attendant
punishment.
In 1852, these houses had become such a crying scandal, that a
public meeting was held on 18th June, at the Literary and Scientific
Institution in Aldersgate Street, over which Sir Peter Laurie presided,
to adopt measures for the suppression of betting houses in the City of
London, and a resolution was moved, and carried unanimously, that a
petition be presented to Parliament for their suppression. In the same
year, at a meeting of the Aldermen at the Guildhall, the foreman of the
Inquest of Farringdon Ward Without, handed in a presentment, which he
said related to a subject of great importance in the City of London;
the gambling and betting houses in the Ward, by which great mischief
was done. Facilities were given at these houses, of which there were
a great number in the Ward, for betting, from sums of threepence, or
fourpence upwards; and by these means, many servants and boys, who
certainly had no money of their own to bet with, were induced to lay
wagers that too often led them into a career of crime.
_The Druid_ says: “The great list era, and all its attendant
Ripe-for-a-jails, as _Punch_ termed them, began with Messrs Drummond
and Greville, who ‘kept an account at the Westminster Bank’ in 1847.
Up to that time ‘sweeps,’ where every subscriber drew a horse for
his ticket, had been amply sufficient to satisfy the popular thirst
for speculation on a Derby, or St Leger eve; and, although, in one
instance, we ascertained that our ticket horse was a leader in a
Shrewsbury coach, instead of being ‘prepared,’ it was satisfactory to
know that there was, at least, fair play. Stimulated by the example of
D. and G., the licensed victuallers took it up—and a nice mess they
made of it—till the licensing magistrates stepped sternly in. From
1850 to the end of 1853, the listers were in their glory; and, at one
period, about four hundred betting houses were open in London alone, of
which, perhaps, ten were solvent.”
CHAPTER XVI
Betting Houses—Their suppression in 1853—Bookmakers and their
Clients—Defaulters—Dwyer’s swindle—Value of Stakes.
In _Chambers’ Edinburgh Journal_ of 24th July 1852, is an excellent
article on “BETTING HOUSES.” It says: “‘Betting Shop’ is vulgar, and we
dislike vulgarity. ‘Commission Office,’ ‘Racing Bank,’ ‘Mr Hopposite
Green’s Office,’ ‘Betting Office,’ are the styles of announcement
adopted by speculators, who open, what low people call, Betting Shops.
The chosen designation is, usually, painted in gold letters on a
chocolate coloured wire gauze blind, impervious to the view. A betting
office may display on its small show board, two bronzed plaster horses,
rampant, held by two Ethiopian figures, nude; or it may prefer making a
show of cigars. Many offices have risen out of simple cigar shops. When
this is the case, the tobacco business gives way, the slow trade and
fast profession not running well together. An official appearance is
always considered necessary. A partition, therefore, sufficiently high
not to be peered over, runs midway across the shop, surmounted with a
rail. By such means, visions are suggested to the intelligent mind, of
desks, and clerks. In the partition is an enlarged _pigeon_ hole—not
far off, may be supposed to lurk the hawk—through which are received
shillings, half crowns; in fact, any kind of coin or notes, no sum
appearing inadmissible. The office is papered with a warm crimson paper
to make it snug and comfortable, pleasant as a lounge, and casting a
genial glow upon the proceedings.
“But the betting lists are the attraction—these are the dice of the
betting men; a section of one of the side walls within the office
is devoted to them. They consist of long slips of paper—each race
having its own slip—on which are stated the odds against the horses.
Hasty and anxious are the glances which the speculator casts upon
betting lists; there he sees which are the favourites, whether those
he has backed are advancing, or retrograding, and he endeavours to
discover, by signs and testimonies, by all kinds of movements and
dodges, the knowing one’s opinion. He will drop fishing words to other
gazers, will try to overhear whispered remarks, will sidle towards any
jockey-legged, or ecurial-costumed individual, and aim more especially
at getting into the good graces of the betting office keeper, who,
when his business is slack, comes forth from behind the partition, and
from the duties of the pigeon hole, to stretch his legs, and hold turf
converse. The betting office keeper is the speculator’s divinity.
* * * * *
“There are various kinds of betting offices. Some are speculative,
May-fly offices, open to-day, and shut to-morrow—offices that will
bet any way, and against anything—that will accommodate themselves to
any odds—receive any sum they can get, small or large; and, should a
misfortune occur, such as a wrong horse winning, forget to open next
day. These are but second rate offices. The money making, prosperous
betting office is quite a different thing. It is not advisable for
concerns which intend making thousands in a few years, to pay the
superintendents liberally, and to keep well clothed touters—to conduct
themselves, in short, like speculative offices. They must not depend
entirely upon chance. Chance is very well for betting men, but will
not do for the respectable betting office keepers, who are the stake
holders.
“The plan adopted is a very simple one, but ingenious in its
simplicity. The betting office takes a great dislike in its own mind
to a particular horse, the favourite of the betting men. It makes bets
against that horse, which amounts, in the aggregate, to a fortune; and
then it _buys_ the object of its frantic delight. This being effected,
the horse, of course, loses, and the office wins. How could it be
otherwise? Would you have a horse win against its owner’s interest?
The thing being settled, the office, in order to ascertain the amount
of its winnings, has only to deduct the price of the horse from its
aggregate bets, and arrange the remainder in a line of, perhaps, five
figures. Whereupon the betting men grow seedier and more seedy: some of
the more mercurial go off in a fit of apoplectic amazement; some betake
themselves to Waterloo stairs on a moonless night; some proceed to
the diggings, some to St Luke’s, and some to the dogs; some become so
unsteady, that they sign the wrong name to a draft, or enter the wrong
house at night, or are detected in a crowd with their hand in the wrong
man’s pocket. But, by degrees, everything comes right again. The insane
are shut up, the desperate transported, the dead buried, the deserted
families carted to the workhouse; and the betting-office goes on as
before.”
The scandal, however, grew too grave to be ignored, and the
Government took the matter up. On July 11, 1853, the Attorney-General
rose in his place in the House of Commons, and said, he would now beg
to move for leave to bring in a Bill for the suppression of betting
houses, and, in doing so, he considered it was not necessary for him to
make any lengthened statement on the subject, as the evils which had
arisen from the introduction of these establishments were perfectly
notorious, and acknowledged upon all hands. The difficulty, however,
which arose in legislating upon this subject, was the disinclination
which was felt against interfering with that description of betting
which had so long existed at Tattersall’s and elsewhere, in connection
with the great national sport of horse racing. But these establishments
assumed a totally different aspect—a new form of betting was
introduced, which had been productive of the greatest evils. The
course, now, is to open a house, and for the owner to hold himself
forth as ready to bet with all comers, contrary to the usage which had
prevailed at such places as Tattersall’s, where individuals betted with
each other, but no one there kept a gaming table, or, in other words,
held a bag against all comers. The object, then, of this Bill, was to
suppress these houses, without interfering with that legitimate species
of betting, to which he had referred. It would prohibit the opening of
houses, or shops or booths, for the purpose of betting; and, inasmuch
as it appeared that the mischief of the existing vicious system
seemed to arise from the advancing of money, in the first instance,
with the expectation of receiving a larger sum on the completion of a
certain event, it was proposed to prohibit the practice, by distinct
legislative enactment. The mischief arising from the existence of
these betting shops was perfectly notorious. Servants, apprentices,
and workmen, induced by the temptation of receiving a large sum for
a small one, took their few shillings to these places, and the first
effect of their losing, was to tempt them to go on spending their money
in the hope of retrieving their losses; and, for this purpose, it not
unfrequently happened that they were driven into robbing their masters
and employers. There was not a prison, nor a house of correction
in London, which did not every day furnish abundant and conclusive
testimony of the vast number of youths who were led into crime by the
temptation of these establishments of which there were from 100 to 150
in the metropolis alone, while there were a considerable number in the
large towns of the provinces. He believed this bill would have the
effect of suppressing most of them; or, at all events, of preventing
the spread of an evil which was admitted on all hands. It had been
suggested that the more effectual course would be the licensing
of these houses; but, for his own part, he believed that would be
discreditable to the Government, and would only tend to increase the
mischief instead of preventing it. He trusted and believed that the
Bill which he now sought to introduce would have the desired effect,
and he hoped the House would offer no objection to his bringing it in.
Leave was given, and the Bill was so in accord with the feeling of the
House, that it went through all its stages without debate, and received
the Royal Assent on 20th Aug. 1853, under the title of “An Act for
the suppression of Betting Houses,” 16 & 17 Victoria, cap. 119: it
became operative on 1st Dec. 1853. Its principal clause is Sec. iii.,
which deals with the penalty on owner or occupier of Betting House.
“Any Person who, being the Owner, or Occupier of any House, Office,
Room, or other Place, or a Person using the same, shall open, keep,
or use the same for the Purposes hereinbefore mentioned, or either
of them; and any Person, who, being the Owner, or Occupier, of any
House, Room, Office, or other Place, shall, knowingly, and wilfully,
permit the same to be opened, kept, or used by any other Person for
the purposes aforesaid, or either of them; and any Person having the
Care, or Management of, or in any Manner assisting in conducting the
business of any House, Office, Room, or Place opened, kept, or used
for the Purposes aforesaid, or either of them, shall, on summary
Conviction thereof, before any Two Justices of the Peace, be liable
to forfeit and pay such Penalty, not exceeding One Hundred Pounds, as
shall be adjudged by such Justices, and may be further adjudged by such
Justices, to pay such Costs attending such conviction, as to the said
Justices shall seem reasonable; and, on the Nonpayment of such Penalty
and Costs; or, in the first instance, if to the said Justices, it shall
seem fit, may be committed to the Common Gaol, or House of Correction,
with, or without, Hard Labour, for any Time not exceeding Six Calendar
Months.”
The effect of this Act was to shut up, for the time, the betting
houses, but nobody can deny that there is as much of this ready money
betting now as ever there was, and there is no difficulty in getting “a
little bit on,” if one wants to, without attending races and betting
with the professional bookmakers there to be found. Children can lay
their pennies and errand boys their sixpences, and, throughout the
length and breadth of the country, the curse of betting permeates every
rank, and, I am sorry to say, spares neither sex.
The police do something, in occasionally obtaining convictions, and
magistrates have strained the interpretation of the word “Place” which
occurs in the Act to its very limit—indeed it has only lately (July
1897) been settled that the betting ring at a race course is not a
“Place” within the meaning of the Act. A bookmaker, named Dunn, was
fined £1 for betting at Kempton Park race meeting. He appealed, and the
magistrate’s decision was reversed. The judges inquired into what was
the real intention of the Legislature. This is sufficiently apparent
from the preamble, which states that “a certain kind of gaming has, of
late, sprung up, by the opening of places called betting houses,” and
we are justified in assuming that it was this “kind of gaming,” and no
other, which Parliament intended to suppress. Furthermore, when once
this fact is appreciated, the use of the words “house, office, room, or
other place” is no longer misleading, because “place” means something
_ejusdem generis_, a “house, office, or room.” It was impossible to
maintain that an open race course, or an open enclosure upon a race
course, is a “place” of the same kind as a “house, office, or room,” or
that the people who use it for betting claim to hold it against all the
world, as they would in the case of their own offices.
As a rule, the higher class professional bookmakers are a very
respectable lot of men, and are scrupulously honest in their dealings,
which is more than can be said for some of their clients, even titled
ones. Such men as Davis, Steel, and Fry dealt in vast sums, and no
matter how hard hit, never once failed to meet their losses; and some
of them have died rich. Gully is said to have left about a quarter of a
million behind him, Davis’s fortune at his death is variously stated at
£50,000 or £150,000, and Swindells died worth £145,000.
As to these men’s clients let Sir George Chetwynd tell a tale. “I
should like Fry, Steel, Emerson, Baylis, and others, to publish their
list of bad debts during the last few years. People would be astonished
at the amount owed to these men, yet they rather condone the fact of
being owed money, by hardly ever applying the remedy of making the
loser a defaulter, and all sorts of people are going about to race
courses, now owing the Ring money, the creditors hoping, some day, to
recover a portion of it. The most disgraceful part of it is, that some
of these defaulters are owners of race horses, gentlemen riders, and so
forth. Personally, I have no pity for book makers who do not post a man
for owing them money, after they have given him a reasonable time for
payment. If this were done, a healthier tone would be given to betting;
there would not be so much reckless plunging as there is, and it would
be far better for backers and layers. I recollect once, on the day
the Two Thousand was run for, some years ago, I was standing talking
to Henry Steel, for whose judgment I have a great respect, and whom I
have always found most straightforward in all his dealings. By his side
was his trusty partner, Peech. All of a sudden, I saw the latter make
hurriedly off in a bee line through the scattered crowd that thronged
the bird cage, and, on asking Steel what was up, he laughed, and said,
‘Oh, nothing, Sir George, it’s only Bill after a bit of old’; meaning
that he had seen a man who had owed him money for some years, and had
gone to give him a gentle reminder of the fact.”
My readers may not be aware of the awful punishment that awaits
defaulters, and I cannot do better than give that knowledge in Mr
Rice’s words.
“What unfair play and loaded dice did at night, defaulting
bettors—‘welshers,’ as they are now called—practised by day. The best
legitimate Meetings, as well as the minor country side ventures, were
infested with the rogues. They dressed well, wore frilled shirts and
‘flash’ rings, and were, perhaps, better able to pay their way about
than honest men. The Chichester ‘extortioners,’ with their guinea bed
for a single night’s lodging, were unable to keep these gentry away
from the Ducal meeting; and the unmerciful dealings of mine hosts at
Doncaster, Windsor, Warwick, and Newmarket, who enjoyed, in those days,
an unenviable notoriety for the extravagance of their charges, were,
likewise, powerless to clear their coffee rooms from the welshing
community.
“Measures were taken to reduce the evil. To begin with, the Messrs
Tattersall issued a code of new rules and regulations, to be observed,
in future, by all subscribers to the betting room at the Corner. A
subscription of two guineas per annum was fixed. Gentlemen desirous
of subscribing were to give a week’s notice, in writing, to Messrs
Tattersall and Son, submitting references for their approval.
Non-subscribers might be admitted on payment of a guinea; and, the room
being under the sanction of the Jockey Club, all the members were to
be obedient to any suggestions made by the Senate of the Turf, from
time to time. Lastly, special attention was called to the forty-first
rule of the Jockey Club, which enacted that any bettor adjudged to be a
defaulter by the Stewards, should not be permitted to go on the Heath
at Newmarket, and they should be excluded from the betting rooms there,
and at Tattersall’s.
“This step in a right direction was followed, a few months later, by
the action of the Trustees of the Grand Stand at Ascot, who gave notice
that all defaulters in respect to stakes, forfeits, or bets on horse
racing, would be peremptorily excluded during any Meeting on the Heath
at Ascot; and, if any one in default, did gain admission, on being
pointed out to the Noble Master of Her Majesty’s Buckhounds, or to the
Clerk of the Course, he would, if necessary, be expelled by force,
unless he were able to show that he had discharged all his obligations.
“At Goodwood, a similar active policy was pursued; no person, being
notoriously a defaulter upon bets on horse racing, would be permitted
to ‘assist’ at the Meeting. A contumelious defaulter having obtained
admission to the Enclosure, he received peremptory orders to quit; and
the example set by the Stewards of Ascot and Goodwood was promptly
taken up by the better class of country Meetings; and notices were
posted, that if any person notoriously in default, as to either
forfeits, or bets, gained admittance, he should be peremptorily
expelled. At Doncaster, it was requested that all parties who had
claims for bets, would not fail to notify the same to Mr Butterfield,
Land Steward to the Corporation, prior to the races, at his office,
or at the Grand Stand. Lord Eglinton, who had taken a prominent part
in the endeavour to stamp out this evil, wrote to the Town Clerk: ‘It
gives me much pleasure to find that the Corporation of Doncaster have
passed the Resolutions. Defaulters have become so numerous, and so
audacious in their proceedings, that it is absolutely necessary that
the strongest measures should be adopted against them.’ The Corporation
of Doncaster, at their meeting, when his Lordship’s letter was read,
resolved, unanimously, that the Town Clerk be requested, immediately,
to confer with the proprietors of the Betting Rooms, and that Lord
Eglinton be permitted to purify those rooms, as well as the Stand and
Enclosure.
“But to the influence and exertions of Lord George Bentinck, the
‘legitimates’ owed the clearance of the Turf from the hordes of
welshers and other non-payers that infested it. This ‘pleasing reform
of the Turf’ was brought about by his active measures; and it was
admitted, that had he not persevered to the utmost, even his powerful
influence would have been blighted, and the host of rotten sheep left
to infect the sound constitution of the remaining flock. But such was
the effect of the sharp remedies employed, that, for some time after,
it was safe to make a bet with any man whom you might meet in the
Betting Ring at respectable Race Meetings, so effectually was the Turf
ridded of the pests that had infested it.”
Probably, the greatest defaulter of modern times was a man named
Dwyer, who kept a cigar shop in St Martin’s Lane. He, generally, gave a
point or two more than the current odds at Tattersall’s, and, in 1851,
he was doing, by far, the largest business of any “list man” in London.
Owing to the promptitude and regularity of his payments, he gained a
high reputation for solvency, and not only retained and increased his
_clientèle_ among the half-crown and shilling public, but had attracted
the custom even of men of good standing in the ring. His humble patrons
believed him to be every whit as safe as “Leviathan” Davis, and their
confidence was largely shared by racing men of a higher calibre.
All went well till the Chester Meeting of 1851, the Cup being, then,
the greatest betting handicap in the Calendar; so much so that, in that
year it was calculated that upwards of _a million sterling_ changed
hands over that one race. Dwyer laid very heavily against the winner
_Miss Nancy_. It had always been his custom to pay up on the day after
a great race; and, consequently, at an early hour on Friday, the first
of May, crowds of the lucky backers of Nancy made their way to the
familiar cigar shop in St Martin’s Lane, to receive their winnings
in exchange for the tickets they held. Conceive their consternation
when they found the shutters up, and the door closed, with other
unmistakable signs that the bank had suspended payment. The news spread
fast, and there was soon a mob of some thousands blocking up all the
approaches to the cigar shop.
By and by it oozed out that a notice had been fastened to the
shutters to the effect that Mr Dwyer would meet his friends and
creditors that evening at the White Swan, Chandos Street, in order
to make arrangements for discharging the claims against him. Of
course, that hostelry was immediately besieged by a clamorous crowd,
but the landlord assured them that he knew nothing of Dwyer or his
whereabouts—all he could tell them was that, late on the previous
evening, two gentlemen, who were perfect strangers to him, had called
and engaged his “long-room” for a meeting of Mr Dwyer and his friends
on the following day. Meanwhile, the cigar shop had been broken into,
and the worst fears of the unfortunate victims were confirmed when they
found that every scrap of furniture that was worth anything had been
removed from the house during the night. The excitement in London that
evening was tremendous—nothing else was talked of among sporting men
but Dwyer’s collapse, and it was afterwards found that he had bolted
with £25,000 of the public’s money. The rogue was never found.
The largest sum ever won by a horse was made by _Donovan_, who, in his
lifetime, carried off stakes to the value of £55,354, 13s.; but the
largest amount of “public money” ever won without betting by an owner
in a single season is £73,858, 10s., won by the Duke of Portland in
1889; whilst Lord Falmouth, who did not bet, won nearly £212,000 in
eleven years, from 1873 to 1883, and in 1884 he sold his whole stud for
at least £150,000. Count Lagrange also won in stakes in five years,
from 1876 to 1880, £73,000.
These sums, with the exception of the Duke of Portland’s winnings,
were made before the era of enormous stakes had begun; and, according
to a writer (_Rapier_) in the _Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News_
in 1892, 2559 horses ran flat races for £486,556, which sum was won by
947 competitors. These figures give us some insight into the enormous
interests involved in horse racing, entirely leaving out the millions
which must change hands in betting.
CHAPTER XVII
The Lottery—Its etymology and origin—The first in
England—Succeeding ones—Prince Rupert’s jewels—Penny
Lottery. Suppression and revival—Rage for them in Queen Anne’s
reign—Lotteries for public purposes—Leheup’s fraud.
I have written very fully on the Lottery in England,[53] but, in
this History of Gambling in this country, it is necessary to go over
the ground again, though, of course, at much less length. Some claim
that the Romans introduced the lottery, in their _Apophoreta_, but
these were simply presents given to guests at their departure after
a banquet, and sometimes they were so disposed as to create great
merriment. The fourteenth book of Martial consists of an introductory
epigram and 222 distiches, each describing and designed to accompany
one of these presents which range from nuts to works of art and slaves.
So we may dismiss its Roman origin and examine into the generally
accepted (because never questioned) theory of its Italian birth. That
the Venetian and Genoese merchants did sometimes use the _Lotto_ as a
means of getting rid of their wares, is true—but the very name shows
its northern derivation, for the Latin word for a lot is _Sors_. The
Anglo-Saxon for “to cast lots” is Hleot-au. In Dutch it is Lot-en,
Loot-en, and in Swedish, Lotta. Indeed, the first record I can find of
any lottery is that of the widow of Jan van Eyck, which took place at
Bruges on 24th February 1446, the town archives recording a payment to
her for her lottery.
The first _public_ English lottery was projected in 1566, but was not
drawn until 1569. Only one authentic record of this lottery is believed
to be in existence, and it is carefully preserved in the muniment room
at Losely House, Artington, Surrey.[54] It is printed in black letter,
and is five feet long by nineteen inches wide, so that I can only give
the preamble to it.
“A verie rich Lotterie Generall, without any blancks, contayning
a number of good prices, as wel of redy money as of plate, and
certaine sorts of marchaundizes, having been valued and priced by the
comaundement of the Queene’s most excellent majestie, by men expert and
skilfull; and the same Lotterie is erected by her majestie’s order,
to the intent that such commoditie as may chaunce to arise thereof,
after the charges borne, may be converted towardes the reparation of
the havens and strength of the Realme, and towardes such other publique
good workes. The number of lots shall be foure hundreth thousand, and
no more; and every lot shall be the summe of tenne shillings sterling
onely, and no more.”
And the bill, which was printed in 1567, winds up thus: “The shewe of
the prices and rewardes above mencioned shall be set up to be seene
in Cheapsyde in London, at the signe of the Queene’s Majesties’ Arms,
in the house of M. Dericke, goldsmith, servant to the Queene’s most
excellent Majestie.”
But people fought so shy of the scheme that the proclamation had to be
backed by the recommendation of the Lord Mayor, and, this proving of
no avail, the Queen issued another on 3rd January 1586, postponing the
drawing on account of the slack subscription, and, this not succeeding,
the Earl of Leicester and Sir William Cecil, as Lords of the Council,
on July 12, 1558, sent a circular to all the authorities in the
Counties of Kent, Sussex, Surrey, Southampton, and the Isle of Wight,
begging them to do all in their power to get subscribers.
By the terms of the lottery, the subscribers were to be anonymous,
their subscriptions being accompanied by a “devise or poesie.” Many of
these remain in a little black letter book at Losely, and I give two or
three from various shipping places.
“Yermouth haven, God send thee spede,
The Lord he knoweth thy great nede.”
“In good hope, poor East Greenwiche, God send us to remain,
And of some good lotte to have the gaine.”
“Draw Brightemston[55] a good lot,
Or else return them a turbot.”
“From Hastings we come,
God send us good speed;
Never a poor fisher town in England,
Of y^e great lot hath more need.”
At last, the Lottery was drawn, in 1569, as we learn from Holinshed.
“A great lotterie being holden at London, in Poules Church Yard, at
the west dore, was begun to be drawne the eleventh of Januarie, and
continued daie and night till the sixt of Maie, wherein the said
drawing was fullie ended.”
Stow, in his _Annales_, tells us of the next Lottery, 1585: “A lotterie
for marvellous rich and beautifull armor was begunne to be drawne at
London in _S. Paules_ Churchyard, at the great West gate (an house
of timber and boord being there erected for that purpose) on _S.
Peter’s_[56] day, in the morning, which lotterie continued in drawing
day and night, for the space of two or three dayes.”
As far as I can learn, the next public lottery was that of 1612,
and I quote once more from the _Annales_: “The King’s maiestie in
speciall favor for the present plantation of English Colonies in
_Virginia_, granted a liberall Lottery, in which was contained five
thousand pound in prizes certayne, besides rewardes of casualtie, and
began to be drawne in a new built house at the West end of _Paul’s_,
the 29th of June 1612. But, of which Lottery, for want of filling
uppe the number of lots, there were then taken out and throwne away
three score thousand blanckes, without abating of any one prize; and
by the twentith of July all was drawne and finished. This Lottery
was so plainely carryed, and honestly performed, that it gave full
satisfaction to all persons. _Thomas Sharpliffe_, a Taylor, of London,
had the chiefe prize, _viz._ foure thousand Crownes in fayre plate,
which was sent to his house in very stately manner: during the whole
tyme of the drawing of this lottery there were alwaies present diuers
worshipfull Knights and Esquiers, accompanied by sundry graue discreet
Cittizens.”
There were three lotteries granted for the supply of water to the
Metropolis, in 1627, 1631, and 1689, and a petition to hold a lottery
for the same purpose in 1637, but this, I think, was not granted. There
were many licences granted for various schemes, and there was one,
called the Royal Oak lottery, for granting assistance to old Royalists,
which seems to have been a swindle. Indeed, this may be said to have
been the case with a good many of the Lotteries in Charles II.’s time,
till, when Prince Rupert died, and his jewels were to be disposed of
by lottery, the public would not subscribe unless the King consented
to see that all was fair, as we see by the _London Gazette_, September
27—October 1, 1683:
“These are to give Notice, that the Jewels of his late Highness Prince
_Rupert_, have been particularly valued and appraised by Mr _Isaac
Legouch_, Mr _Christopher Rosse_, and Mr _Richard Beauvoir_, Jewellers,
the whole amounting to Twenty Thousand Pounds, and will be sold by
way of Lottery, each Lot to be Five Pounds. The biggest Prize will be
a great Pearl Necklace valued at £8000, and none less than £100. A
printed Particular of the said Appraisement, with their Division into
Lots, will be delivered _gratis_ by Mr _Francis Child_, Goldsmith,
at Temple Bar, _London_, into whose hands, such as are willing to be
Adventurers, are desired to pay their Money, on, or about, the first
day of _November_ next. As soon as the whole sum is paid in, a short
day will be appointed (which ‘tis hoped will be before _Christmas_) and
notified in the _Gazette_, for the drawing thereof, which will be done
in his Majesty’s Presence, who is pleased to declare, that he, himself,
will see all the Prizes put among the Blanks, and that the whole shall
be managed with all Equity and Fairness; nothing being intended but the
Sale of the said Jewels at a moderate Value.”
In another _London Gazette_ of Nov. 22/26, 1683, we are told how this
Lottery will be drawn, and, as it is rare to have an English sovereign
mixed up in such a speculation, I transcribe it:
“As soon as the Money is all come in, a day will be prefixed, and
published for the drawing thereof, as has been formerly notified. In
the morning of which day His Majesty will be pleased, publickly, in
the Banquetting House, to see the Blanks told over, that they may not
exceed their Number, and to read the Papers (which shall be exactly
the same size as the Blanks) on which the Prizes are to be written;
which, being rolled up in his presence, His Majesty will mix amongst
the Blanks, as may, also, any of the Adventurers there present that
shall desire it. This being done, a Child, appointed by His Majesty,
or the Adventurers, shall, out of the Mass of Lots so mixed, take out
the number that each Person adventures for, and put them into boxes
(which shall be provided for the purpose) on the covers whereof, each
Adventurer’s Name shall be written with the number of Lots He or She
adventures for; the Boxes to be filled in succession as the Money was
paid in. As soon as all the lots are thus distributed, they shall be
opened as fast as may be, and the prizes then and there delivered to
those that win them; all which, ‘tis hoped, will be done and finished
in one day.”
There was a Lottery, in which the subscription was a penny, and the
Capital prize was One Thousand Pounds, drawn on 19th Oct. 1698, at the
Dorset Garden Theatre, near Salisbury Square, Fleet Street, but when
William III. came to the throne, it was seen that the Lottery was a
very profitable thing, and the Government took it unto itself for its
own purposes. In 1694, £1,000,000 was raised by Lottery, and in 1697,
£1,400,000—but in 1699, by 10 and 11 Will. III., c. 17, lotteries were
suppressed, the preamble to the Act stating, “That all such Lotteries,
and all other Lotteries, are common and publick nuisances, and that
all grants, patents, and licences for such Lotteries, or any other
Lotteries, are void and against Law.”
It must have been about this time (for in 1698-9 three expeditions
sailed from Scotland to Darien) that Ward wrote in _The London Spy_ a
description of the Lottery fever in London:
“The _Gazette_ and _Post-Papers_ lay by Neglected, and nothing was
Pur’d over in the _Coffee Houses_, but the _Ticket-Catalogues_; No
talking of the _Jubilee_, the want of Current Trade with _France_,
or the _Scotch_ Settlement at _Darien_; Nothing Buz’d about by the
Purblind _Trumpeters_ of _State News_, but _Blank_ and _Benefit_. _My
Son had Five Pound in such a Lottery, but got nothing; my Daughter_,
says another, _had but Five Shillings, and got the Twenty Pound Prize_.
People running up and down the Streets in Crowds and Numbers, as if one
end of the Town was on Fire, and the other were running to help ‘em
off with their Goods. One Stream of _Coachmen_, _Footmen_, _Prentice
Boys_, and _Servant Wenches_ flowing one way, with wonderful hopes of
getting an estate for three pence. _Knights_, _Esquires_, _Gentlemen_
and _Traders_, _Marry’d Ladies_, _Virgin Madams_, _Jilts_, etc.; moving
on _Foot_, in _Sedans_, _Chariots_, and _Coaches_, another way; with a
pleasing Expectancy of getting Six Hundred a Year for a Crown.
“Thus were all the _Fools_ in Town so busily employed in running
up and down from one _Lottery_, or another, that it was as much as
_London_ could do to Conjure together such Numbers of _Knaves_ as might
Cheat ‘em fast enough of their _Money_. The Unfortunate crying out,
_A Cheat, a Cheat, a Confounded Cheat, nothing of Fairness in’t_. The
Fortunate, in opposition to the other, crying, _’Tis all Fair, all
Fair; the Fairest Adventure that ever was drawn_. And thus, every Body,
according to their Success, Expressing variously their Sentiments; tho’
the Losers, who may be said to be in the Wrong of it, to venture their
Money, yet, were they most Right in their Conjectures of the Project,
and the Gainers, who were in the Right of it, to hazard their Money,
because they won, were most Wrong in their opinion of the matter. For
I have much ado to forbear believing that _Luck in a Bag_ is almost
as Honest as _Fortune in a Wheel_, or any other of the like Projects.
Truly, says my Friend, I confess I cannot conceive any extraordinary
Opinion of the Fairness of any _Lottery_, for I am apt to believe that
whenever such a number of _Fools_ fall into a _Knave’s_ hand, he will
make the most of ‘em; and I think the _Parliament_ could not have given
the _Nation_ greater Assurances of their especial Regard to the Welfare
of the _Publick_, than by suppressing all _Lotteries_, which only serve
to Buoy up the mistaken Multitude with Dreams of Golden Showers, to
the Expence of that little Money, which, with hard Labour they have
Earn’d; and often to the Neglect of their Business, which doubles the
Inconveniency. The _Gentry_, indeed, might make it their Diversion, but
the _Common People_ make it a great part of their Care and Business,
hoping thereby to relieve a Necessitous Life; instead of which, they
plunge themselves further into an Ocean of Difficulties. What if one
Man in Ten Thousand gets Five Hundred Pounds, what Benefit is that to
the rest, who have struggled hard for _Fool_’s Pence to make up that
Sum, which, perhaps, falls to one who stood not in need of _Fortune_’s
Favours.”
But the State Lotteries began again in Queen Anne’s reign, for an Act
(8 Anne, c. 4) was passed in 1710 authorising a loan of £1,500,000 by
means of a lottery of 150,000 tickets at £10 each. The money was to be
sunk, and 9 per cent. was allowed on it for 32 years, and the prizes
were annuities from one of £1000 to 14s. a year, which latter was given
as a consolation to every holder of a blank.
Luttrell tells us how greedily they were taken up. “21st Jan. 1710.
Yesterday, books were opened at Mercer’s Chapel for receiving
subscriptions for the Lottery, and ‘tis said, above a Million is
already subscribed; so that, ‘tis believed, ‘twill be full by Monday
7 night.” And he also tells us that “Mr Barnaby, who lately belonged
to the 6 Clerk’s Office, has got the £1000 per ann. ticket in the
lottery.” This lottery was drawn by blue coat boys from Christ’s
Hospital, and from this time, until 1824 (except from 1814 to 1819),
there was no year without a State Lottery.
There were Lotteries for everything, and to show how numerous they were
take the advertisements in one paper, taken hap-hazard. _The Tatler_,
Sep. 14/16, 1710: “Mr Stockton’s Sale of Jewels, Plate, &c., will be
drawn on Michaelmas Day.—The Lottery in Colson’s Court will be drawn
on the 21st inst.—The Sale of Goods to be seen at Mrs Butler’s, &c.,
will certainly be drawn on Tuesday, the 19th inst.—Mrs Povy’s Sale of
Goods is put off to Saturday, 23rd inst.—Mrs Symond’s Sale of Goods
will begin on Wednesday, the 20th of this instant.—Mrs Guthridge’s
Sixpenny Sale of Goods, &c., continues to be drawn every Day.”
The prizes did not always fall to those who needed the money, as Swift
writes to Stella about a son of Lord Abercorn. Aug. 29, 1711: “His
second son has t’other day got a prize in the Lottery of Four Thousand
Pounds, besides two small ones of two hundred pounds each; nay, the
family was so fortunate, that my Lord bestowing one ticket, which is
a hundred pounds, to one of his servants, who had been his page, the
young fellow got a prize, which has made it another hundred.”
In 1721 private Lotteries were prescribed, by the 36th sec. of 8
Geo. I., c. 2, which imposed a penalty of £500 for carrying on such
lotteries, in addition to any penalties inflicted by any former Acts;
the offender being committed to prison for one year, and thenceforward
until such times as the £500 should be fully paid and satisfied.
The first Westminster bridge was partially built through the
instrumentality of a lottery, the drawing of which began on Dec. 8,
1740, at Stationers’ Hall; and by an Act of Parliament (26 Geo. II.,
c. 22) passed in 1753, the nation purchased for £20,000, the library
and collection of Sir Hans Sloane, and incorporated Sir Robert Cotton’s
library with it. Montague House was selected for their reception, and
a lottery to provide for its purchase was got up; the subscription to
which was £300,000 in tickets of £3 each. The Managers and Trustees of
this Lottery were The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Chancellor,
and the Speaker, each of whom was to have £100 for his trouble.
In connection with this lottery was a gross fraud, and on 19th April
1755, Peter Leheup, one of the receivers of the Lottery was tried at
the King’s bench and found guilty, 1st, of receiving subscriptions
before the day and hour advertised; 2nd, of permitting subscribers to
use different names to cover the maximum of 20 tickets allowed to each
holder; and 3rd, of disposing of the tickets which had been bespoke and
not claimed, or were double-charged, instead of returning them to the
managers. For these _laches_ he was, on the following 9th of May, fined
£1000, which he immediately paid into Court.
In a lottery of 1767 a lady residing in Holborn was presented with a
ticket by her husband, and so anxious was she for its success, that on
the Sunday previous to the drawing, the clergyman gave out that “the
prayers of the congregation are desired for the success of a person
engaged in a new undertaking.”
CHAPTER XVIII
Blue coat boys tampered with—The two trials—Insuring
tickets—Curious Lotteries—Lever Museum and Pigot diamond
lotteries—Little goes—Stories of winning numbers—Decline of
Lotteries—The last—Its epitaph—Modern lotteries.
Twice in the year 1775 were the blue coat boys, who drew the tickets
from the lottery wheels, tampered with; and the following accounts are
taken from the _Annual Register_ of that year:
“1 June. A man was carried before the Lord Mayor, for attempting to
bribe the two Blue Coat boys, who drew the Museum[57] lottery, to
conceal a ticket, and bring it to him, promising he would, next day,
let them have it again, when one of them was, it seems, to convey it
back privately to the wheel, but without letting go his hold of it,
and then produce it as if newly drawn; the man’s intention being to
insure it in all the offices against being drawn that day. But the boys
were honest, gave notice of the intended fraud, and pointed out the
delinquent, who, however, was discharged, as there is no law in being,
to punish the offence.”
“5 Dec. By virtue of a warrant from Sir Charles Asgill, was brought
before the magistrate, at Guildhall, the clerk of an eminent hop factor
in Goodman’s Fields, upon suspicion of being concerned with a person,
not yet apprehended, in defrauding a lottery office keeper, near the
‘Change, of a large sum of money. This matter being undertaken by the
Commissioners of the Lottery, the Solicitor of the Treasury appeared
against the prisoner, and for him attended, as Counsel, Mr Cox.
“The first witness examined was the lottery office keeper, he said,
that about a fortnight ago, the prisoner insured No. 21,481 six times
over for the subsequent day of drawing; that the conversation he had
with the prisoner at that time, and the seeming positiveness there
appeared in the latter, that the ticket would come up, caused him
to enquire at other lottery offices, when he found the same number
insured, in the prisoner’s name, at all the principal offices about
the ‘Change; that the ticket was drawn the first hour of drawing the
subsequent day. This, with his former suspicion, alarmed him, and he
immediately went to Christ’s Hospital, and saw the boy who drew the
ticket; that he interrogated him, whether he had clandestinely taken
that number out of the wheel, or whether he had been solicited to do
so, which the boy positively denied; that, observing that he answered
rather faintly, he importuned him to divulge the truth, which, after
some hesitation, produced an acknowledgment of the fact.
“The next witness was the Blue Coat boy. He said that, about three
weeks ago, the person who is not in custody, and whom he had known
before he went to the Hospital, took him to a Coffee House, where they
breakfasted together; that he wanted to know of the witness, whether
it was possible to get a ticket out of the wheel; to which the latter
answered, No. That being, afterwards, solicited for the same purpose,
by him, to secrete a ticket, he, at length, promised to do so; that,
accordingly, he took two at one time out of the wheel, gave one to the
person who called it over, and put the other in his pocket; that the
person who induced him to do it was then in the gallery, and nodded
his head to the witness to signify when was a proper time; that, after
the witness came out of the hall, he gave the ticket to the person who
sat in the gallery, and who was then waiting for the witness in the
Guildhall Yard; that the next time the witness drew the lottery, the
person before mentioned returned him the ticket, which the witness
put in the wheel, and drew out the same day; that he did this three
several times, and received from the person for whom he did it, several
half guineas; that he has heard the prisoner’s name mentioned by him,
but never heard the latter acknowledge any connection between them in
insurance; and, never before, saw the prisoner.
“The prisoner acknowledged he insured the ticket 79 times for one day.
The mother of the person who was not apprehended, was next examined;
she proved an acquaintance between her son and the prisoner; but denied
any remembrance of ever hearing the latter mention anything relating to
insurance. The prisoner was discharged.
“It is said that the person who absconded, got about £400 by the above
fraud; and would have got £3000, had he been paid in all the offices
where he insured.”
But, that such a fraud should not be perpetrated again, the Lords
of the Treasury, on 12th Dec. 1775, issued an Order, of which the
following is an extract:
“IT IS THEREFORE ORDERED, for preventing the like wicked practices in
future, that every boy, before he is suffered to put his hand into
either wheel, be brought by the proclaimer to the managers on duty,
for them to see _that the bosoms and sleeves of his coat be closely
buttoned, his pockets sewed up, and his hands examined_; and that,
during the time of his being on duty, _he shall keep his left hand
in his girdle behind him, and his right hand open, with his fingers
extended_: and the proclaimer is not to suffer him, at any time, to
leave the wheel, without, first, being examined by the Manager nearest
him.”
They also “requested of the Treasurer of Christ’s Hospital, not to
make known who are the twelve boys nominated for drawing the lottery,
till the morning before the drawing begins; which said boys are all to
attend every day, and the two who are to go on duty at the wheels, are
to be taken promiscuously from amongst the whole number, by either of
the secretaries, without observing any regular course, or order; so
that no boy shall know when it will be his turn to go to either wheel.”
_À propos_ of insuring lottery tickets, Horace Walpole writes to the
Countess of Ossory, 17th Dec. 1780: “As folks in the country love to
hear of _London fashions_, know, Madam, that the reigning one amongst
the _quality_, is to go, after the opera, to the lottery offices, where
their Ladyships bet with the keepers. You choose any number you please;
if it does not come up next day, you pay five guineas; if it does,
receive forty, or in proportion to the age of the _tirage_. The Duchess
of Devonshire, in one day, won nine hundred pounds. General Smith, as
the luckiest of all mites, is of the most select parties, and chooses
the numeros.”
On Jan. 6, 1777, two Jews were brought before the Lord Mayor, charged
with counterfeiting a lottery ticket; but, as they brought plenty of
false witnesses, they were acquitted. But one, Daniel Denny, was not
so lucky on Feb. 24, the same year, for he was convicted of the same
crime. The _Annual Register_ for this year says:
“The following is a true state of the different methods of getting
money by lottery office keepers, and other ingenious persons, who have
struck out different plans of getting money by the State Lottery of
1777.
“First, His Majesty’s Royal Letters Patent for securing the Property of
the purchasers.
“Secondly, A few office keepers who advertise ‘By authority of
Parliament’ to secure your property in shares and chances.
“Thirdly, Several schemes for shares and chances, only entitling the
purchasers to all prizes above twenty pounds.
“Fourthly, A bait for those who can only afford to venture a shilling.
“Then come the ingenious sett of lottery merchants, viz. Lottery
magazine proprietors—Lottery tailors—Lottery stay makers—Lottery
glovers—Lottery hat makers—Lottery tea merchants—Lottery snuff and
tobacco merchants—Lottery handkerchiefs—Lottery bakers—Lottery
barbers (where a man, for being shaved, and paying threepence, may
stand a chance of getting ten pounds)—Lottery shoe blacks—Lottery
eating houses; one in Wych Street, Temple-bar, where, if you call for
six penny worth of roast, or boiled beef, you receive a note of hand,
with a number, which, should it turn out fortunate, may entitle the
eater of the beef to sixty guineas—Lottery oyster stalls, by which the
fortunate may get five guineas for three penny worth of oysters. And,
to complete this curious catalogue, an old woman, who keeps a sausage
stall in one of the little alleys leading to Smithfield, wrote up,
in chalk, _Lottery sausages_, or, five shillings to be gained for a
farthing relish.”
In 1782 an Act was passed, whereby lottery office keepers were to pay a
licence of £50, under a penalty of £100 if they did not do so.
Sir Ashton Lever disposed of his Museum by lottery in 1758 by Act of
Parliament, and another Act was procured to dispose of, by lottery,
a large diamond, the property of the deceased Lord Pigot, valued at
£30,000. This lottery was drawn on Jan. 2, 1801, and the winner of
the prize was a young man, name unknown. It was, afterwards, sold at
Christie’s on May 10, 1802, for 9500 guineas. It was again sold, and is
said to have passed into the possession of Messrs Rundell and Bridge,
the Court jewellers, who are reported to have sold it to an Egyptian
Pasha for £30,000.
But, in the latter part of the eighteenth century, a system of private
lotteries, called “little goes” had sprung up, and they are thus
described in the _Times_ of 22nd July 1795:
“Amongst the various species of Gaming that have ever been practised,
we think none exceeds the mischiefs, and calamities that arise from
the practice of private lotteries, which, at present, are carrying on,
in various parts of the town, to very alarming extents, much to the
discredit of those whose province it is to suppress such nefarious
practices, as they cannot be ignorant of such transactions. ‘The little
go,’ which is the technical term for a private lottery, is calculated
only for the meridian of those understandings, who are unused to
calculate and discriminate between right and wrong, and roguery and
fair dealing; and, in this particular case, it is those who compose the
lower order of society, whom it so seriously affects, and, on whom,
it is chiefly designed to operate. No man of common sense can suppose
that the lottery wheels are fair and honest, or that the proprietors
act upon principles anything like honour, or honesty; for, by the art,
and contrivance, of the wheels, they are so constructed, with secret
springs, and the application of gum, glue, &c., in the internal part of
them, that they can draw the numbers out, or keep them in, at pleasure,
just as it suits their purposes; so that the ensurer, robbed and
cajoled, by such unfair means, has not the most distant chance of ever
winning; the whole being a gross fraud, and imposition, in the extreme.
We understand the most notorious of these standards of imposition, are
situated in Carnaby Market, Oxford Road, in the Borough, Islington,
Clerkenwell, and various other places, most of which are under the very
nose of Magistracy, in seeming security, bidding defiance to law, and
preying upon the vitals of the poor and ignorant.
“We hope the Magistrates of each jurisdiction, and those who possess
the same power, will perform their duty on behalf of the poor, over
whom they preside, and put a stop to such a growing, and alarming
evil, of such pernicious and dangerous tendency; particularly as the
proprietors are well-known bad characters, consisting of needy beggars,
desperate swindlers, gamblers, sharpers, notorious thieves, and common
convicted felons; most of whose names stand recorded in the Newgate
Calendar for various offences of different descriptions.”
_11th Aug. 1795._ “On Friday night last, in consequence of searching
warrants from the parochial magistrates of St James’s Westminster,
upwards of 30 persons were apprehended at the house of one M’Call, No.
2 Francis Street, near Golden Square, and in the house of J. Knight,
King Street, where the most destructive practices _to the poor_ were
carrying on, that of _Private Lotteries_ (called Little Goes). Two
wheels, with the tickets, were seized on the premises. Upon examination
of those persons, who proved to be the poor deluded objects who had
been there plundered, they were reprimanded, and discharged.
“The wives of many industrious mechanics, by attending these nefarious
houses, have not only been duped out of their earnings (which ought to
have been applied to the providing bread for their families), but have
even pawned their beds, wedding rings, and almost every article they
were possessed of, for that purpose.”
Here are two anecdotes of the winners of the great prize, which was,
usually, £20,000, from the _Times_:
_27th Dec. 1797._ “Dr B., a physician at _Lime_ (Dorset), a few days
since, being under pecuniary embarrassment, and his house surrounded
by bailiffs, made his escape by a window, into a neighbour’s house,
from whence he fled to London. The furniture was seized, and the sale
actually commenced, when it was stopped by a letter, stating that the
Doctor, upon his arrival in London, found himself the proprietor of the
£20,000 prize. We guarantee the truth of this fact.”
_19th Mar. 1798._ “The £20,000 prize, drawn on Friday, is divided
amongst a number of poor persons: a female servant in Brook Street,
Holborn, had a sixteenth; a woman who keeps a fruit stall in Gray’s
Inn Lane, another; a third is possessed by a servant of the Duke of
Roxburghe; a fourth by a Chelsea carrier of vegetables to Covent
Garden; one-eighth belongs to a poor family in Rutlandshire, and the
remainder is similarly divided.”
In 1802, old Baron d’Aguilar, the Islington miser, was requested, by
a relation, to purchase a particular ticket, No. 14,068; but it had
been sold some few days previously. The baron died on the 16th of March
following, and the number was the first drawn ticket on the 24th, and,
as such, entitled to £20,000. The baron’s representatives, under these
circumstance, published an advertisement, offering a reward of £1000
to any person who might have found the said ticket, and would deliver
it up. Payment was stopped. A wholesale linen draper in Cornhill (who
had ordered his broker to buy him ten tickets, which he deposited in a
chest), on copying the numbers for the purpose of examining them, made
a mistake in one figure, and called it 14,168 instead of 14,068, which
was the £20,000 prize. The lottery being finished, he sent his tickets
to be examined and marked. To his utter astonishment, he then found
the error in the number copied on his paper. On his demanding payment
at the lottery office, a _caveat_ was entered by old d’Aguilar’s
executors; but, an explanation taking place, the £20,000 was paid to
the lucky linen draper.
Although these lotteries were a great source of revenue to Government,
and, consequently, relieved the taxpayer to the amount of their profit,
it began to dawn upon the public that this legalised gambling was
somewhat immoral; and, in 1808, a Committee of the House of Commons was
appointed, to inquire how far the evil attending lotteries had been
remedied by the laws passed respecting the same; and, in their Report,
they said that “the foundation of the lottery system is so radically
vicious, that your Committee feel convinced that under no system of
regulations, which can be devised, will it be possible for Parliament
to adopt it as an efficacious source of revenue, and, at the same time,
divest it of all the evils which it has, hitherto, proved so baneful a
source.”
Yet they continued to be held; but, when the Lottery Act of 1818 was
passing through the House of Commons, Mr Parnell protested against it,
and, in the course of his speech, suggested that the following epitaph
should be inscribed on the tomb of the Chancellor of the Exchequer:
“Here lies the Right Hon. Nicholas Vansittart, once Chancellor of the
Exchequer; the patron of Bible Societies, the builder of Churches, a
friend to the education of the poor, an encourager of Savings’ banks,
and—a supporter of Lotteries!”
And, in 1819, when the lottery for that year was being discussed, Mr
Lyttleton moved:
1. That by the establishment of State lotteries, a spirit of gambling,
injurious, in the highest degree, to the morals of the people, is
encouraged and provoked.
2. That such a habit, manifestly weakening the habits of industry, must
diminish the permanent sources of the public revenue.
3. That the said lotteries have given rise to other systems of
gambling, which have been but partially repressed by laws, whose
provisions are extremely arbitrary, and their enforcement liable to the
greatest abuse.
4. That this House, therefore, will no longer authorise the
establishment of State lotteries under any system of regulations
whatever.
Needless to say, these resolutions were not passed, but the Lottery was
on its last legs, for, in the Lottery Act of 1823, provision was made
for its discontinuance after the drawing of the lottery sanctioned in
that Act. Yet this was not adhered to, and a “last lottery” was decreed
to be drawn in 1826. Its date was originally fixed for the 18th of
July, but the public did not subscribe readily, and it was postponed
until the 18th of October, and, on that day it was drawn at Cooper’s
Hall, Basinghall Street. Here is an epitaph which was written on it:
In Memory of
THE STATE OF LOTTERY,
the last of a long line
whose origin in England commenced
in the year 1569,
which, after a series of tedious complaints,
_Expired_
on the
18th day of October 1826.
During a period of 257 years, the family
flourished under the powerful protection
of the
British Parliament;
the Minister of the day continuing to
give them his support for the improvement
of the revenue.
As they increased, it was found that their
continuance corrupted the morals,
and encouraged a spirit
of Speculation and Gambling among the lower
classes of the people;
thousands of whom fell victims to their
insinuating and tempting allurements.
Many philanthropic individuals
in the Senate,
at various times, for a series of years,
pointed out their baneful influence,
without effect;
His Majesty’s Ministers
still affording them their countenance
and protection.
The British Parliament
being, at length, convinced of their
mischievous tendency,
His Majesty GEORGE IV.
on the 9th of July 1823,
pronounced sentence of condemnation
on the whole race;
from which time they were almost
NEGLECTED BY THE BRITISH PUBLIC.
Very great efforts were made by the
Partisans and friends of the family to
excite
the public feeling in favour of the last
of the race, in vain:
It continued to linger out the few
remaining
moments of its existence without attention,
or sympathy, and finally terminated
its career unregretted by any
virtuous mind.
In 1836 an Act was passed “to prevent the advertising of Foreign and
illegal lotteries,” but circulars still come from Hamburg and other
places. In 1844 an Act was passed “to indemnify persons connected
with Art Unions, and others, against certain penalties.” Still there
were minor lotteries and raffles, and the law was seldom set in force
against them, any more than it is now when applied to charitable
purposes; yet in 1860 one Louis Dethier, was haled up at Bow Street
for holding a lottery for £10,000 worth of Twelfth Cakes, and was only
let off on consenting to stop it at once, and nowadays the lottery is
practically dead, except when some petty rogue is taken up for deluding
children with prize sweets.
CHAPTER XIX
Promoters and Projectors—Government loans—Commencement of Bank
of England—Character of a Stock Jobber—Jonathan’s—Hoax _temp._
Anne—South Sea Bubble—Poems thereon.
We are apt to think that company promoters and commercial speculation
are things of modern growth, but _Projectors_ and _Patentees_ (company
promoters and monopolists) were common in the early seventeenth
century; and we find an excellent exposition of their ways and
commodities in a poetical broadside by John Taylor, the Water poet,
published in 1641. It is entitled _The complaint of M. Tenter-hooke
the_ Proiector, _and Sir Thomas Dodger, the_ Patentee.
Under the title is a wood-cut, which represents a _Projector_, who
has a pig’s head and ass’s ears, screws for legs, and fish hooks for
fingers, bears a measure of coal, and a barrel of wine, on his legs
respectively, tobacco, pipes, dice, roll tobacco, playing cards, and a
bundle of hay slung to his body, papers of pins on his right arm, and
a measure for spirits on his left arm, a barrel and a dredger on the
skirts of his coat. With his fish hook fingers, he drags bags of money.
This is Tenter-hooke, who is saying to his friend Sir Thomas Dodger,
who is represented as a very well dressed gentleman of the period:
“I have brought money to fill your chest,
For which I am curst by most and least.”
To which Sir Thomas replies:
“Our many yeares scraping is lost at a clap,
All thou hast gotten by others’ mishap.”
_If any aske, what things these_ Monsters _be
‘Tis a_ Projector _and a_ Patentee:
_Such, as like Vermine o’re this Lande did crawle,
And grew so rich, they gain’d the Devill and all._