Read the book: «The History of Gambling in England», page 9

CHAPTER VII

Hanging, the penalty for losing – Suicide – Officer cashiered – Reminiscences of an exiled gambler – Description of the principal gaming-houses at the West End in 1817.

The Annual Register about this time supplies us with several gambling anecdotes, the following being almost incredible: —15th April 1812.– “On Wednesday evening an extraordinary investigation took place at Bow Street. Croker, the officer, was passing along the Hampstead road, when he observed, at a short distance before him, two men on a wall, and, directly after, saw the tallest of them, a stout man, about six feet high, hanging by his neck, from a lamp post attached to the wall, being that instant tied up and turned off by the short man. This unexpected and extraordinary sight astonished the officer; he made up to the spot with all speed; and, just after he arrived there, the tall man, who had been hanged, fell to the ground, the handkerchief, with which he had been suspended, having given way. Croker produced his staff, said he was an officer, and demanded to know of the other man the cause of such conduct. In the meantime, the man who had been hanged recovered, got up, and, on Croker’s interfering, gave him a violent blow on the nose, which nearly knocked him backwards. The short man was endeavouring to make off; however, the officer procured assistance, and both were brought to the office, when the account they gave was that they worked on canals. They had been together on Wednesday afternoon, tossed up for money, and afterwards for their clothes; the tall man, who was hanged, won the other’s jacket, trousers, and shoes; they then tossed up which should hang the other, and the short one won the toss. They got upon the wall, the one to submit, and the other to hang him on the lamp iron. They both agreed in this statement. The tall one, who had been hanged, said, if he had won the toss, he would have hanged the other. He said he then felt the effects of his hanging in his neck, and his eyes were so much swelled that he saw double. The magistrates expressed their horror and disgust, and ordered the man who had been hanged to find bail for the violent and unjustifiable assault on the officer, and the short one for hanging the other. Not having bail, they were committed to Bridewell for trial.”

7th Feb. 1816.– “Yesterday, a gentleman, the head in a firm of a first-rate concern in the City, put a period to his existence by blowing out his brains. He had gone to the masquerade at the Argyll Rooms a few nights since, and accompanied a female home in a coach with two men, friends of the woman. When they got to her residence, the two men proposed to the gentleman to play for a dozen of champagne to treat the lady with, which the gentleman declined. They, however, after a great deal of persuasion, prevailed on him to play for small sums, and, according to the usual tricks of gamblers, allowed him to win at first, till they began to play for double, when, there is no doubt, the fellows produced loaded dice, and the gentleman lost to the amount of £1800, which brought him to his reflection and senses. He then invented an excuse for not paying that sum, by saying he was under an agreement with his partner not to draw for a larger amount than £300 for his private account, and gave them a draft for that amount, promising the remainder at a future day. This promise, however, he did not attend to, not feeling himself bound by such a villainous transaction. But the robbers found out who he was, and his residence, and had the audacity to go yesterday morning, armed with bludgeons, and attack him publicly on his own premises, in the presence of those employed there, demanding payment of their nefarious debt of honour, and threatening him, if he did not pay, that he should fight. This exposure had such an effect upon his feelings, that he made an excuse to retire, when he destroyed himself by blowing out his brains with a pistol. This rash act is additionally to be lamented, as it prevents the bringing to condign punishment the plundering villains who were the cause of it, there being no evidence to convict them.”

“Horse Guards, 18th Nov. 1816.– At a general Court-martial held at Cambray, in France, on the 23rd September 1816, and continued by adjournments to the 26th of the same month, Lieutenant the Honourable Augustus Stanhope, of the 12th regiment of Light Dragoons, was arraigned on the undermentioned charge, viz.: —

“For behaving in a scandalous, infamous manner, such as is unbecoming the character of an officer and a gentleman, in conspiring, with a certain other person, to draw in and seduce Lord Beauchamp to game and play with them, for the purposes of gain and advantage; and that, in pursuance of such conspiracy, he, Lieutenant Stanhope (having engaged Lord Beauchamp to come to his quarters in Paris, on Sunday, the 17th day of March 1816, upon an invitation to dine with him), did, in company and concert of such other person, draw in, seduce, and prevail upon Lord Beauchamp to play with them at a certain game of chance with cards, for very high stakes, whereby, on an account kept by them, Lieut. Stanhope, and the said other person, or one of them, of the losses and gains in the course of the play, he, Lieut. Stanhope, claimed to have won from Lord Beauchamp the sum of £8000 and upwards, and the said other person claimed to have won off Lord Beauchamp the further sum of £7000 and upwards.

“That, in further pursuance of the said concert and conspiracy, he, Lord Beauchamp, at the same time and place, was required by Lieut. Stanhope to write and sign two promissory notes, or engagements, to pay at the expiration of three years the said several sums of money so claimed to have been won off him, Lord Beauchamp, by Lieut. Stanhope and the said other person respectively.

“That he, Lord Beauchamp, was, at that time, about sixteen years of age, ignorant of, and unused to play, and affected by the wine he had been prevailed upon to take by the parties.”

Lieut. Stanhope was found guilty and dismissed from the army.

The Annual Register also gives numerous cases of duels arising from gambling, but they are, comparatively, uninteresting, and are all of the same type, paltry quarrels over the gaming-table.

We have a metrical description of gambling about this time supposed to have been written by a gambler who had to retire to France, and I here give a portion of it.⁴²

 
“Ah me! what sad pangs ev’ry fibre now feels,
When I view the success of my exquisite deals,
My cutting and shuffling, perform’d with such ease:
(And their talent is rare who can cut when they please).
Ev’ry bet at Macao was decidedly mine;
For, faithful to me, was the snug winning Nine;
And the dice-box, alike, against Squire or Lord,
Brought whatever I pleased on the fortunate board.
Yet exil’d, in spite of success, to this land;
I have made of my gains but a very bad hand,
For here, gallant Greeks! my sad fortune deplore,
No pigeon takes wing to the Gallican shore;
And the nation, composed of sly slippery elves,
Admits of no plucking, except by themselves;
Whilst Bourbon the pious, to vermin-like rats,
Grants Licences special, for doing the flats.
Ye haunts of St James’s! ye Cyprian fair!
How sweet your amusements! how winning your air!
Long, long have I served you, and valued you well,
From the Regent’s proud palace, to Bennet Street hell,
Where nobles and simples alike take their swing,
With th’ intention of being at all in the ring.
Their eyes are attracted with rouleaus of gold,
Or with thousands in paper, so neat in the fold:
Impatient they view them, and seize them elate,
And, when pocketing most, they most swallow the bait.
There’s N – g – nt’s proud lord, who, to angle for pelf,
Will soon find the secret of diddling himself;
There’s H – rb – rt, who, lately, as knowing ones tell,
Won a tight seven hundred at house in Pall Mall;
Captain D – v – s, who, now, is a chick of the game,
But, although in high feather, the odds will soon tame;
And the Marquis of Bl – ndf – rd, who touch’d ‘em up rare,
For a thousand in Bennet Street (all on the square),
Where a service of plate gives a shine to the job,
The whole made of crowns from young gentlemen’s fob.
There’s Ll – yd and C – m – ck, who’d a martinette be;
For none drills a guinea more ably than he —
So his adjutant told him (a pretty good wipe,
Which the Colonel accepted and put in his pipe).
There’s a certain rum baronet every one knows,
Who, on Saturday nights to the two sevens goes;
With J – and Cl – , Billy W – and two more,
So drunk that they keep merry hell in a roar;
Long D – b – n, thin C – rt – r, a son of a gun,
Bill B – , the Doctor, that figure of fun:
They have all won a little, and now are in force,
But they’ll find that it soon will return to its source:
The knowing ones watch them, and give them their fill,
And they’ll soon be reduced to discounting their bill.
 

········

 
In fine, ev’ry object of popular fame,
Old hens, youthful chickens and cocks of the game,
Though distant, I ever shall keep you in view;
For all my enjoyments were centred in you.
To A. B.’s and Bailiff’s I waft a sad tear;
For I know they have found me a friend that was dear;
And the Bill-doers, too, who have fleeced Johnny Raw,
And, lastly, the Jem’men who follow the law.
To the tradesmen who tick, a remembrance most kind,
I thus send, and assure them that Fortune is blind.
This truth is a sad one; I’ve learn’d it too late;
But ‘twill serve those, who now may take heed from my fate:
For the purses of others, ‘tis pretty well known,
I look’d too, but ne’er had an eye to my own;
For which my Annuitants sternly refuse
My freedom, and, thereby have narrowed my views.
Time was, when so splendid, so gay, debonair,
I’ve had of these vermin a brace at my chair,
The slaves of my chamber, the shades at my doors,
Subservient, and bowing obedience by scores;
For, soit dit en passant, when ruin’d’s a rake,
The greater’s the plunder his liv’rymen make:
Then, the produce of filching, to noble in need,
Is lent out on annuity, mortgage, or deed:
So, the Peer, or the Commoner going to rack,
May sit with his Creditor stuck at his back,
Unconscious, howe’er, of so monstrous a bore,
The effects of a C – rp – w, a S – dl – y, or M – re,
Who the parties procure, ‘mongst such miscreant trash;
For nothing’s degrading in touching the cash —
A pound is the same, both in value and weight,
Though it came from the basest, or first in the State.
I grieve, whilst I think of the years which have flown,
Of the thousands I’ve squandered, the pleasures I’ve known,
Of the many occasions, which fortune has cast
In my way to be rich, which I slighted as fast —
How oft’, independent I might have retired
With enough to live happy – nay, more than required:
But Greeks are like Cyprians, and Fate has decreed
That they both should spend fortunes, and perish in need;
That their treasures, with dreams of enchantment, should pass,
And leave them no solace, except from the – glass;
That, at length, youth and beauty, good luck, and foul play,
Should all thrive a season – then vanish away.”
 

This pamphlet, which has a companion called “The Pigeons,” gives a very curious list of the most fashionable gaming houses in existence in 1817.

“Of hells in general, it may be said that they are infernally productive, since Mr T – l – r finds that the banking business is nothing compared to these money mills, and since so many fortunes have been made from them. Who would think that a man could rise from one of these lower regions to a seat in Parliament? or that high military rank could be purchased by ‘The Colour’s red’ – ‘Gentlemen, make your game!’

Major-General R – w, M.P., thus got his high promotion and his seat in the British Senate; for his papa was n’importe; but, progressively (and in a very odd way too), he got a little money, which, placing in a hell of which he was proprietor, he soon purchased an estate, and bought his son on in the army. Many other instances, too tedious to mention, have occurred of fortune thus made.

By a house of fashionable resort being called a club-house, the proprietors are enabled to exclude wolves in sheep’s clothing, i. e. spies and informers; for, by taking a mere trifle for a subscription, you get a knowledge of the subscriber, whether a good man and true, or not; and, being entered in a book – before he can turn over a new leaf, he may be turned to good account.

Where the houses are not really, or apparently, club-houses, large sums are often paid to police officers, as well as to more imposing informers, who contrive to introduce themselves. Bob Holloway pretty well knew this, as he was, literally, in the pay of all of them, of which more may be said in time and place. Hush money varies according to the magnitude of the concern, from £250 to £1000 per annum.

—

No. 77 ST JAMES’S STREET

Nick-named the Two Sevens

Firm: Messrs T. C. C. T

Here is a rouge et noir table; the best possible treatment may be depended upon, as well as great civility and great circumspection in not lending money but to well-known people. The firm attends very constantly, and a certain lawyer watches most attentively the transactions of the house. The bank won’t set you above £50; this is the common plan; and it gives a decided advantage to the bank, as the loser has less chance of bringing himself back than if play was unlimited, as in France. Upon the whole, the French first-rate gaming-houses beat our hells hollow, and they are carried on upon a much more extensive, handsome, and attractive plan: but 77 has that

‘Within which far surpasseth show.’ —Hamlet.

They are scurvy about refreshments here, and very apt to grumble if a customer have a run of luck. On the other hand, however, a Prussian Officer, not very long ago, made a devil of a row about losing a very large sum, but all in vain.

Cerberus, who waits at the door, has a particularly watchful eye and a rare nose for a police officer. Mistakes, however, have occurred.

The produce of this bank (which Paddy B – calls the Devil’s Exchequer, whence you get neither principal nor interest), furnishes carriages, town and country houses, and all the luxuries of life: and may, perhaps, one day send a Member to Parliament or a General to the field, like Mrs R – w’s concern; no house can have a better chance, as no house is better situated for the purpose. We would, however, advise the dealer to be less slovenly and liable to mistake than he is. The house is now shut up.

—

Opposite this house is a hazard table, which never opens until midnight, and is attended by the ultra royalists and officers of all the regiments of guards, horse and foot, besides decided amateurs.

—

BENNET STREET, ST JAMES’S

Corner house – Red Baize Door —called a Club House

Firm: Messrs Fielder, Miller and Carlos. Formerly Fielder, Roubel, Miller and Co

This is what is called a topping house, where high rank and title resort. We mentioned in the poem the luck of a certain Duke’s son there; and, of late, there has been a lucky run in favour of the frequenters of the bank – but lauda finem. Its crisis has arrived.

The noble Marquess, on the night that he lost the money at No. 40 which was closed against him, went full charged with the Tuscan grape, and attacked poor Fielder, vi et pugnis, and, at length, was necessitated to leave this house also.

Here, all things are in a very high style, served on plate, et cetera. It is supposed that the customer’s specie is melted down to furnish this luxury, which is reversing the ordinary plan: it is, commonly, the family plate which is melted by the gamester into specie; but here it is the current coin which is molten and shaped into salvers, waiters, &c. This is, however, all in the way of business; for we have heard of parson’s wives having silk gowns made out of burial scarves, and we know a presbyterian minister who has converted mourning rings into a splendid piece of plate. Therefore, why should not these conveyancers of property, convey a portion into their wives and mistress’s pockets, or ridicules, and transform guineas into gold snuff boxes; or crowns, &c., into a service of plate?

The receipts of these houses are immense: We know the wife of a proprietor of a hell, not an hundred miles from St James’s Palace, who was so majestic in her deportment, and so magnificent in her attire, that she gained the name of Proserpine.

The neighbourhood of Bennet Street is very convenient: if a pigeon be refused admittance on the score of not being known, and receive the stale answer– ‘Sir, this house is only open to the gentlemen of the Club,’ he has only to go down St James’s Street into the Square or to Pall Mall, and he will find accommodation all the way: the descent is easy even to the most intoxicated dandy or guardsman, who will experience the truth of the ‘facilis descensus Averni.’

—

No. 10 ST JAMES’S SQUARE

A low House, Humourously Called the Pigeon hole

Firm: Abbot Watson, Davies, Fearlove, Leach, and Holdsworth

This snug little trap is doing remarkably well. Fama volat, that it has netted thirty thousand within twelve months. Whether the exact sum, in so very small a time be true or not, we cannot pretend to say; but we know that a great deal of work is done there, and it is said to have divided twenty-seven thousand in the half-year ending Midsummer 1817.

A certain little doctor is a great friend (we do not say a decoy) to the house, and, of course, a great favourite. There are many links to this chain; and a good bill would be done there, or an I.O.U. taken from gem’men of respectability.

There is a littleness about the concern, both outside and inside; and your topping Greeks prefer a larger scale of establishment. The firm, notwithstanding, goes on slow and sure; and there is no saying what they may realise with time, brisk trade and good customers, although great complaints are made of emigrations to France, the Insolvent Act, the want of honour in the young men of the present day, and, especially, of our disclosures of their mysteries. The north country dialect is here spoken in perfection.

One of the firm is Abbot, of a religious establishment of a somewhat different kind. It is a nunnery, to which confessors are, of course, admitted at the usual hours, on the terms, to use a sporting phrase, of play, or pay. This Abbot is said to be worth nearly a hundred thousand pounds. ‘Two strings to my bow’ is his suitable motto, for he has a wife and family also.

He is more parsimonious than abstemious, as befits the order of which he is the worthy principal, and of which we shall furnish a ludicrous instance. He once had particular occasion for a sovereign. Now, how could he save his money? He was extricated by a most delightful thought, and he, accordingly, sat down to play against his own firm for one pound. Oh! what a slippery jade is Fortune! Luck was against him, and he rose IN DEBT to the bank, little short of £500. His junior partners, however, most liberally (it is said) took the entire case into their serious consideration, and FORGAVE HIM THE DEBT! What other house can produce an instance of such splendid munificence? – Lieut. N – g, R.N., has lately extracted from the house above £2000. They would almost as soon see the devil as the lieutenant, for Fortune has never deserted him hitherto: – but, even this, like a fire to insurance offices, or a large prize in a lottery, is not without its good effects! It is, after all, baiting with sprats to catch salmon. We are happy to find that this officer has been so prudent as to retire on his good luck!

To Mr Holdsworth, quitting a neighbouring hell under more respectable circumstances, pocketing a trifle of what is so easily gained, can, he thinks, be no very great harm. However, it now became absolutely necessary that he should do business on his own account, when circumstances utterly prevented his doing it on the account of others. Papa Leach advanced the needful, and he is, as we see, one of this firm.

Perhaps Mr Watson may have some recollection, however imperfect, of Messrs Crook and Co., of York Street, Covent Garden, his old masters. We may, probably, at a future opportunity, assist the elucidation of some occurrences in that quarter. We believe that Mr Crook never speaks of him with any particular respect! It was here that Mr L – p D – s lately won nearly £5000 of Crockford, Kelly, Lavisne, &c. It is a great chance if they have not obtained their revenge ere this.

A singular escape was recently sustained here by Major A – y. He is not only a man of mettle, but of metal; in plain English, he has money, and was allowed partial success, pour encourager les autres. We only suppose that arrangements were made for his next appearance. All were silent and ready. The anxious moment arrived, St James’s clock struck nine, – the customary signal to begin, – yet he had not arrived: therefore, it was thought advisable to commence operations. The company loudly expressed impatience and offence at waiting for anyone. The house conceded, and lo! the cards were dealt – when, to the astonishment and dismay of the company, there were fifteen trente et un et après, in one deal! wonderful! mysterious chance! The Major entered at this critical moment, and took out his well-stored pocket-book; but, when he learnt what had happened, and saw his narrow escape, he coolly returned it to his pocket, saying, as he retired, ‘I will never enter a house where such a chance has happened!!’ We need not be surprised at the sum which THIS firm is said to have cleared.

They affect to carry their heads high, and to despise common menaces, saying, that THEY have the countenance of the Hon. Messrs – , sons of a high and most esteemed legal character.

—

MRS LEACH’S, No. 6 KING STREET, ST JAMES’S

Is a particularly snug and quiet shop, and the name of the proprietor is singularly appropriate. This concern is suspended.

—

THE ELDER DAVIS, No. 10 KING STREET, ST JAMES’S

Is but a small affair, recently opened. It gets on swimmingly.

—

No. 40 PALL MALL

Firm: Messrs Roubel, Fuller and Hewetson. Formerly Roubel, Fielder, Miller and Co

Parlez moi de cela! a Frenchman would say directly on entering this establishment. It is more à la Française, and, of course, more of a gambling house than any of the others. The firm are good judges of these matters, and do things in very good form.

There is great variety; and the addresses of some lovely frail ones may be had. This is an equal advantage to Greek and Pigeon —Tros Tyrius ve. Besides the ‘sprightly dance they so dearly love,’ dull Sunday don’t stand in their way as in other places. Here, also, they have borrowed from the Continental manners.

This concern is a thriving one, although a prodigious hoax was practised on them the year before last, when thieves, in the characters of police officers, led on by an ‘alien’ disguised in the habiliments of officers of the foot guards, introduced themselves, and carried off all the cash, to the great discomfiture of the party, and to the alarm of the respectable visitors there assembled. Colonel N – g went off like a shot; many forgot to take their change; and some young bloods were thought to have taken more than their change: it was a most delicious scamper. The Argus-eyed attendants have been more vigilant ever since; and a dark-looking man in a greatcoat, or other suspicious habit, is very much watched.

We felicitate the town on this establishment: it is the most attractive to the Greeks, and the most expeditive to the pigeon who wishes to be soon done; for what will not women, play, and good cheer effect? Here, if a man escape one way, he must be sure to fall another; and, it may be observed, that the adventurous youth may tell his tale in a small compass —

‘Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim.’

We hear that something of a schism exists among the proprietors of this house. It is too good a thing, however, to break up. While on this subject, we would ask Mr Miller, whether he and George Shade, the printer, did not bamboozle – and – and – and – out of a round sum, on the suppression of a certain pamphlet?

The Lisle Street, Panton Street, and Covent Garden hells are below notice, compared to those foregoing ones, so near the Court, and enjoying such deserved celebrity.

—

71 PALL MALL

Firm: Taylor, Phillips, Lowe and Fielder

The ex-banker of Southwark, we apprehend, finds his connection with Mr Phillips more lucrative than that with Sir M. B – . Much might have been said on this establishment, but we have our reasons for not entering into details at present. Mr Phillips has been abroad, and, consequently, gives himself the airs of a travelled man, sets up for an homme d’esprit, fancies himself clever, and thinks he may be MIStaken for a gentleman.

‘Oh! formose puer, nimium te crede colori!’

We have not done with you. We remember Sir John Lade. Of Captain Lowe, we can only say, that he deserves a better fate.

—

SUNDAY HOUSES

Our moral readers may start at the designation of this department; yet common sense will tell them that, as the Sunday Houses are but few, their profits must be the greater. Don’t tell me about religion, morality, decorum, etc. Those who hear gentlemen express themselves in these sinks of corruption, will at once discover that they are men of the world, who can adapt their conversation to their hearers. First under this head is

—

77 JERMYN STREET

George Smith, George Pope and Co

The scenes which nightly occur at this house, beggar all description. It is a hazard table, where the chances are little in favour of the uninitiated player. The first proprietor is low in stature as in breeding, a corpulent, self-sufficient, strutting, coxcombical, irreligious prig. Mr P. is a respectable, decent, modest personage enough in his way. He is humble, and is forced to succumb to the other, who is the monied partner. Many tradesmen, broken, breaking, or in the right way, honour this house with their presence. This house, not being large enough for its trade, the proprietors have opened another in St James’s Street.

—

OLDFIELD, BENNET AND CO.,

27 Bury Street

Mr Oldfield is not a well-proportioned man. He has red hair, and soon betrays his dunghill origin. He is a pragmatical, bloated, officious, flippant coxcomb, with the tout-ensemble of a waiter.

At the Sunday houses, Mr Kelly, proprietor of the public rooms at Cheltenham, which are not sufficient for him, is a steady hand, and, being a stout stentor of an Hibernian, keeps all his comrades in great awe. He, like Lord Y – , frequently plays by deputy; but that is only for small sums. However, like the bear in the boat of Gay —

 
‘ – He thought there might be picking
Even in the breast bone of a chicken.’
 

Bennet of Jermyn Street is tall and robust, with black hair and eyes, and a rather blue beard; and, as for Crockford, ‘Do you know me? Excellent well! You’re a fishmonger.’”