The Gaming Table, Vol. II by Andrew Steinmetz

Captain Davis was some time in the Life Guards, and a lieutenant in the Yeomen of the Household—a situation which placed him often about the persons of the Royal family. He was seldom known to play for less stakes than L50, often won or lost large sums, and was represented as a gentleman of extensive and independent fortune, although some of his enemies declared otherwise, and repeated anecdotes to confirm the assertion. He was at length committed for forgeries to an immense amount. To the fidelity of a servant he owed his escape from Giltspur Street prison—another fatal example of the sure result of gambling. Heir to a title—moving in the first society—having held a commission in the most distinguished of the Royal regiments—he was reduced to the alternative of an ignominious flight with outlawry, or risking the forfeiture of his wretched life, to the outraged laws of his country. When in Paris, he at one time had won L30,000, and on his way home he dropped into another gambling house, where he lost it all but L3000. He set out in life with L20,000 in money!

Having unlimited control of the large property of his employer, a Mr Cowan, during the absence of the latter from town, he was tempted first to gamble in the funds, wherein being unfortunate, he next went to a gambling house in Pall Mall, and lost a very large sum; and at length, gamed away nearly all his master's property.

In this tremendous result—lost to all intents and purposes—he made a supreme effort to 'patch up' the ruin he had made. He forged the name of General Tonyn; and so dexterously, that he obtained from the Bank of England the sum of L10,000.

This huge robbery from Peter was not to pay Paul. Not a bit of it. It was to try the fickle goddess of gaming once more—a Napoleonic stroke for an Austerlitz of fortune.

Did he despair at this hideous catastrophe? Did he tear his hair—rush out of the room—blow his brains out or drown himself?

Not a bit of it. He 'set his wits to work' once more. He procured a woman to personate General Tonyn's sister—forged again—and again obtained from the Bank of England another large supply of ready cash—with which, however, he 'went off' this time.

He was caught; and then only he thought of self-murder, and cut his throat—but not effectually. He recovered, was tried at the Old Bailey, and hanged on the 6th of July, 1796.

No doubt the reader imagines that the man of such a career was an OLD stager—some long-visaged, parchment-faced fellow the OTHER side of forty at least. Well, this hero of the gaming table, Henry Weston, was aged only TWENTY-THREE years! What terrible times those must have been to produce such a prodigy!

To the judge who tried him Henry Weston sent a list of a number of PROFESSIONAL GAMBLERS, among them was a person of high rank. Weston, at different times, lost above L46,000 at play; and at a house in Pall Mall, where he lost a considerable part of it, three young officers also lost no less than L35,000.

It seems that the wretched traitor Arthur Thistlewood, who paid the forfeit of his life for his crimes, had dissipated by gaming the property he had acquired by a matrimonial connection—L12,000. An unfortunate transaction at cards, during the Lincoln races, involved him in difficulties, which he found it impossible to meet; and he fled to avoid the importunities of his more fortunate associates. He was afterwards known only as the factious demagogue and the professed gambler!

Henry Fountleroy was a gentleman of rank, a partner in the banking house of Marsh, Sibbold, and Co., of Berners Street. He was convicted of having forged a deed for the transfer of L5450 long annuities, in fraud of a certain Frances Young. Like Thurtell, Fountleroy defended himself, and battled with the prejudicial reports circulated against him—among the rest his addiction to gambling. 'I am accused,' he said, 'of being an habitual gambler, an accusation which, if true, might easily account for the diffusion of the property. I am, indeed, a member of two clubs, the Albion and the Stratford, but never in my life did I play in either at cards, or dice, or any game of chance; this is well known to the gentlemen of these clubs; and my private friends, with whom I more intimately associated, can equally assert my freedom from all habit or disposition to play.'(21)

I close this record of crime and misery by a few narratives of a more miscellaneous character.

Marshal Grammont used to tell a story of three soldiers, who, having committed offences punishable by death, it was ordered that one of them should be hanged as an example, and the three were directed to decide which of them should suffer by throwing dice. The first threw fourteen, the second seventeen, and the last, taking up the dice as coolly as though he were engaged in a trivial game, threw eighteen! Thereupon he exclaimed, with an expression of vexation, 'Ah, now! if I had been playing for money I should not have been so lucky!'

This may appear 'taking it very cool;' but I think the following cases of Englishmen' rather stronger.'

In the Times of February 11th, 1819, mention is made of a gang of nearly thirty persons, male and female, and all presenting the most shocking appearance of both want and depravity, who were brought to the Marlborough Street Office. Among these wretched beings was a woman named Hewitt, said to be the wife of one Captain Hewitt, a leader of the ton, who, after ruining himself and family at the gambling table, ran away from them, and was not since heard of. His wife being left to herself, and having probably been tainted by his evil example, by an easy gradation became first embarrassed, then a prostitute, then a thief, and on the occasion above mentioned exhibited one of the most distressing spectacles of vice and misery that could be conceived.

Thurtell was evidently no common man. His spoken defence, as reported, is one of the finest specimens of impassioned eloquence—perfectly Demosthenic. His indignation at the reports circulated in prejudice of his case was overwhelming. Nothing can be finer than the turn of the following sentence:—'I have been represented by the Press—WHICH CARRIES ITS BENEFITS OR CURSES ON RAPID WINGS from one extremity of the kingdom to the other—as a man more depraved, more gratuitously and habitually profligate and cruel, than has ever appeared in modern times.'

Touching his gambling pursuits, he said:—'I have been represented to you as a man who was given to gambling, and the constant companion of gamblers. To this accusation in some part my heart, with feeling penitence, pleads guilty. I have gambled; I have been a gambler, but not for the last three years. During that time I have not attended or betted upon a horse-race, or a fight, or any public exhibition of that nature. If I have erred in these things, half of the nobility of the land have been my examples; some of the most enlightened statesmen of the country have been my companions in them. I have, indeed, been a gambler; I have been an unfortunate one. But whose fortune have I ruined?—whom undone? My own family have I ruined; I have undone myself!'(22)

In the Annual Register for the year 1766 occurs the following 'circumstantial and authentic account of the memorable case of Richard Parsons,' transmitted by the high sheriff of Gloucestershire to his friend in London.

On the 20th of February, 1766, Richard Parsons and three more met at a private house in Chalfold, in order to play at cards, about six o'clock in the evening. They played at Loo till about eleven or twelve that night, when they changed their game for Whist. After a few deals a dispute arose about the state of the game. Parsons asserted with oaths that they were six, which the others denied; upon which he wished 'that he might never enter the kingdom of heaven, and that his flesh might rot upon his bones, if there were not six in the game.' These wishes were several times repeated both then and afterwards. Upon this the candle was put out by a party present, who said he was shocked with the oaths and expressions he heard, and that he put out the candle with a design to put an end to the game. Presently upon this they adjourned to another house, and there began a fresh game, when Parsons and his partner had great success. They then played at Loo again till four in the morning. During the second playing Parsons complained to one Rolles, his partner, of a bad pain in his leg, which from that time increased. There was an appearance of a swelling, and afterwards the colour changing to that of a mortified state. On the following Sunday he took advice of a surgeon, who attended him until his death. Notwithstanding all the applications that were made the mortification increased, and showed itself in different parts of the body. He was visited by a clergyman, who administered the sacrament to him, without any knowledge of what had happened before—the man appearing to be extremely ignorant of religion, having been accustomed to swear, to drink, to game, and to profane the Sabbath. After receiving the sacrament he said—'Now, I must never sin again.' He hoped God would forgive him, having been wicked not above six years, and that whatever should happen he would not play at cards again.

After this he was in great agony—chiefly delirious; spoke of his companions by name, and seemed as if his imagination was engaged at cards. He started, had distracted looks and gestures, and in a dreadful fit of shaking and trembling died on the 4th of March, just about a fortnight after the utterance of his terrible imprecation.

The worthy sheriff of Gloucestershire goes on to say that the man's eyes were open when he died, and could not be closed by the common method, so that they remained open when he was put into the coffin. From this circumstance arose a report that he WISHED HIS EYES MIGHT NEVER CLOSE; 'but,' says the sheriff, 'this is a mistake; for, from the most creditable witnesses, I am fully convinced no such wish was uttered; and the fact is, that he did close his eyes after he was taken with the mortification, and either dozed or slept several times.

'When the body came to be laid out, it appeared all over discoloured or spotted; and it might, in the most literal sense, be said, that his flesh rotted on his bones before he died.'

At the request of the sheriff, the surgeon (a Mr Pegler) who attended the unfortunate man, sent in the following report:—'Sir,—You desire me to acquaint you, in writing, with what I know relating to the melancholy case of the late Richard Parsons; a request I readily comply with, hoping that his sad catastrophe will serve to admonish all those who profane the sacred name of God.

'February 27th last I visited Richard Parsons, who, I found, had an inflamed leg, stretching from the foot almost to the knee, tending to a gangrene. The tenseness and redness of the skin was almost gone off, and became of a duskish and livid colour, and felt very lax and flabby. Symptoms being so dangerous, some incisions were made down to the quick, some spirituous fomentations made use of, and the whole limb dressed up with such applications as are most approved in such desperate circumstances, joined with proper internal medicines. The next day he seemed much the same; but on March the 1st he was worse, the incisions discharged a sharp fetid odor (which is generally of the worst consequence). On the next day, which was Sunday, the symptoms seemed to be a little more favourable; but, to my great surprise, the very next day I found his leg not only mortified up to the knee, but the same began anew in four different parts, viz., under each eye, on the top of his shoulder, and on one hand; and in about twelve hours after he died. I shall not presume to say there was anything supernatural in the case; but, however, it must be confessed, that such cases are rather uncommon in subjects so young, and of so good a habit as he had always been previous to his illness.'

On one occasion Justice Maule was about to pass sentence on a prisoner, who upon being asked to say why judgment should not be pronounced, 'wished that God might strike him dead if he was not innocent of the crime.' After a pause, the judge said:—'As the Almighty has not thought proper to comply with your request, the sentence of the court is,' &c.

Every Englishman recollects the fate of that unhappy heiress, the richest of all Europe, married to a man of rank and family, who was plundered in the course of a few years of the whole of his wealth, in one of those club houses, and was obliged to surrender himself to a common prison, and ultimately fly from his country, leaving his wife with her relations in the greatest despair and despondency.'(23)

GEORGE IV. There are few departments of human distinction in which Great Britain cannot boast a 'celebrity'—genteel or ungenteel. In the matter of gambling we have been unapproachable—not only in the 'thorough' determination with which we have exhausted the pursuit—but in the vast, the fabulous millions which make up the sum total that Englishmen have 'turned over' at the gaming table.

I think that many thousands of millions would be 'within the mark' as the contribution of England to the insatiate god of gambling.

I have presented to the reader the record of gambling all the world over—the gambling of savages—the gambling of the ancient Persians, Greeks, and Romans—the gambling of the gorgeous monarchs of France and their impassioned subjects; but I have now to introduce upon the horrible stage a Prince Royal, who surpassed all his predecessors in the gaming art, having right royally lost at play not much less than a million sterling, or, as stated, L800,000—before he was twenty-one years of age!

If the following be facts, vouched for by a writer of authority,(24) the results were most atrocious.

'Every one is aware that George IV., when Prince of Wales, was, as the common phrase is, over-head-and-ears in debt; and that it was because he would thereby be enabled to meet the claims of his creditors, that he consented to marry the Princess Caroline of Brunswick. But although this is known to every one, comparatively few people are acquainted with the circumstances under which his debts were contracted. Those debts, then, were the result of losses at the gaming table. He was an inveterate gambler—a habit which he most probably contracted through his intimacy with Fox. It is a well-ascertained fact that in two short years, after he attained his majority, he lost L800,000 at play.

'It was with the view and in the hope that marriage would cure his propensity for the gaming table, that his father was so anxious to see him united to Caroline; and it was solely on account of his marriage with that princess constituting the only condition of his debts being paid by the country, that he agreed to lead her to the hymeneal altar.

'The unfortunate results of this union are but too well known, not only as regarded the parties themselves, but as regarded society generally. To the gambling habits, then, of the Prince of Wales are to be ascribed all the unhappiness which he entailed on the unfortunate Caroline, and the vast amount of injury which the separation from her, and the subsequent trial, produced on the morals of the nation generally.'

CHAPTER V. ODDITIES AND WITTICISMS OF GAMBLERS.

OSTENTATIOUS GAMESTERS.

Certain grandees and wealthy persons, more through vanity or weakness than generosity, have sacrificed their avidity to ostentation—some by renouncing their winnings, others by purposely losing. The greater number of such eccentrics, however, seem to have allowed themselves to be pillaged merely because they had not the generosity or the courage to give away what was wanted.

The Cardinal d'Este, playing one day with the Cardinal de Medicis, his guest, thought that his magnificence required him to allow the latter to win a stake of 10,000 crowns—'not wishing,' he said, 'to make him pay his reckoning or allow him to depart unsatisfied.' Brantome calls this 'greatness;' the following is an instance of what he calls 'kindness.'

'Guilty or innocent,' he says, 'everybody was well received at the house of this cardinal, who kept an open table at Rome for the French chevaliers. These gentlemen having appropriated a portion of his plate, it was proposed to search them: 'No, no!' said the cardinal, 'they are poor companions who have only their sword, cloak, and crucifixes; they are brave fellows; the plate will be a great benefit to them, and the loss of it will not make me poorer.'

Vigneul de Marville tells us of certain extravagant abbes, named Ruccellai and Frangipani, who carried their ostentation to such a pitch as to set gold in dishes on their tables when entertaining their gaming companions! Were any of these base enough to put their hands in and help themselves? This is not stated by the historian. These two Italian abbes were ne plus ultras in luxury and effeminacy. In the reign of Henry IV., they laid before their guests vermilion dishes filled with gloves, fans, coins to play with after the repast, essences and perfumes.(25) I wonder if the delightful scent called Frangipani, vouchsafed to us by Rimmel and Piesse and Lubin, was named after this exquisite ecclesiastic of old?

One day when Henry IV. was dining at the Duc de Sully's, the latter, as soon as the cloth was raised, brought in cards and dice, and placed upon the table two purses of 4000 pistoles each, one for the King, the other to lend to the lords of his suite. Thereupon the king exclaimed:—'Great master, come and let me embrace you, for I love you as you deserve: I feel so comfortable here that I shall sup and stay the night.' Evidently Sully was more a courtier than usual on this occasion—as no doubt the whole affair was by the king's order, with which he complied reluctantly; but he made the king play with his own money only. The Duc de Lerme, when entertaining Monsieur the brother of Louis XIII. at his quarters near Maestricht, had the boldness to bring in, at the end of the repast, two bags of 1000 pistoles each, declaring that he gave them up to the players without any condition except to return them when they pleased.(26)

This Duc de Lerme was at least a great lord, and the army which he commanded may have warranted his extravagance; but what are we to think when we find the base and mean-spirited Fouquet giving himself the same princely airs? During certain festivities prepared for Louis XIV., Fouquet placed in the room of every courtier of the king's suite, a purse of gold for gambling, in case any of them should be short of money. Well might Duclos remark that 'Nobody was shocked at this MAGNIFICENT SCANDAL!(27)

They tell of a certain lordly gamester who looked upon any money that fell from his hands as lost, and would never stoop to pick it up! This reminds us of the freedman Pallas mentioned by Tacitus, who wrote down what he had to say to his slaves, lest he should degrade his voice to their level—ne vocem consociaret!(28)

Osterman, Grand Chancellor of Russia, during the reign of the Empress Anne, obtained information that the court of Versailles had formed a scheme to send an insinuating, elegant gamester, to attack the Duke of Biran on his weak side—a rage for play—and thereby probably gain some political advantage over him.

The chancellor called on the duke to make the necessary communication, but the minister did not choose to be at home. The chancellor, then pretending to be suffering from a severe fit of gout, wrote to his sovereign, stating that he had important matter to reveal, but was unable to move, and the Duke of Biran was consequently ordered to wait on him by the empress. Osterman, affecting great pain, articulated with apparent difficulty these words—'The French are sending a gamester!' Thereupon the duke withdrew in a pet, and represented to the empress that the chancellor was delirious from the gout, and had really nothing to communicate.

The subject had long been forgotten by the duke, when an elegant, easy, dissipated marquis actually arrived. He had extensive credit on a house of the English Factory, and presently insinuated himself into the good graces of the duke, whom he soon eased of all his superfluous cash.

The chancellor became alarmed for the consequences, and resolved to try and play off the French for their clever finesse. He looked about for a match for the redoubtable French gamester, and soon got information of a party who might serve his turn. This was a midshipman at Moscow, named Cruckoff, who, he was assured, was without an equal in the MANAGEMENT of cards, and the knowledge of Quizze—then the fashionable court game—and that at which the Duke of Biran had lost his money. The chancellor immediately despatched a courier to Moscow to fetch the Russian gamester.

The midshipman was forthwith made an ensign of the Guards, in order to entitle him to play at court. He set to work at once in accordance with his instructions, but after his own plan in the execution. He began with losing freely; and was, of course, soon noticed by the marquis, and marked as a pigeon worth plucking. The young Russian, however, forced him into high play, and he lost the greater part of his former gain. The marquis got nettled, lost his self-command, and proposed a monstrous stake, to the extent of his credit and gains, of which he thought he might make himself sure by some master-stroke of art. Accordingly, by means of a sleight, he managed to hold fifteen in hand, but his wily antagonist was equal to the occasion: by the aid of some sweetmeats from an adjoining table he SWALLOWED a card, and, being first in hand, the chance was determined in his favour, and he ruined the marquis.

Once more the chancellor waited on the duke, and plainly told him that he had been anxious to guard him against the French gamester, purposely sent to fleece him, if he had had the patience to hear him. The duke then became outrageous, and wished to arrest the Frenchman as a cheat; but Osterman coolly said he had punished him in kind; and, producing a large bag, returned the duke's money, bidding him in future not to be so impatient when information was to be communicated by gouty persons.

The clever ensign was allowed to retain the rest of the spoil, with an injunction, however, never to touch a card again, unless he wished to end his days among the exiles of Siberia.

written by the Lord Fitz-Gerald(29) (a great gamester) a little before his death, which was in the year 1580.

(29) This Lord Fitzgerald was eldest son to the Earl of Kildare, and died at the age of twenty-one.

     'By loss in play, men oft forget
     The duty they do owe
     To Him that did bestow the same,
     And thousand millions moe.

     'I loath to hear them swear and stare,
     When they the Main have lost,
     Forgetting all the Byes that wear
     With God and Holy Ghost.

     'By wounds and nails they think to win,
     But truly 'tis not so;
     For all their frets and fumes in sin
     They moneyless must go.

     'There is no wight that used it more
     Than he that wrote this verse,
     Who cries Peccavi now, therefore;
     His oaths his heart do pierce.

     'Therefore example take by me,
     That curse the luckless time
     That ever dice mine eyes did see,
     Which bred in me this crime.

     'Pardon me for that is past,
     I will offend no more,
     In this most vile and sinful cast,
     Which I will still abhor.'(30)

Horace Walpole, writing to Mann, says:—'The event that has made most noise since my last is the extempore wedding of the youngest of the two Gunnings, two ladies of surpassing loveliness, named respectively Mary and Elizabeth, the daughters of John Gunning, Esq., of Castle Coote, in Ireland, whom Mrs Montague calls "those goddesses the Gunnings." Lord Coventry, a grave young lord, of the remains of the patriot breed, has long dangled after the eldest, virtuously, with regard to her honour, not very honourably with regard to his own credit. About six weeks ago Duke Hamilton, the very reverse of the earl, hot, debauched, extravagant, and equally damaged in his fortune and person, fell in love with the youngest at the masquerade, and determined to marry her in the spring. About a fortnight since, at an immense assembly at my Lord Chesterfield's, made to show the house, which is really most magnificent, Duke Hamilton made violent love at one end of the room, while he was playing at Faro at the other end; that is, he saw neither the bank nor his own cards, which were of three hundred pounds each: he soon lost a thousand. I own I was so little a professor in love that I thought all this parade looked ill for the poor girl; and could not conceive, if he was so much engaged with his mistress as to disregard such sums, why he played at all. However, two nights afterwards, being left alone with her, while her mother and sister were at Bedford House, he found himself so impatient that he sent for a parson. The Doctor refused to perform the ceremony without license or ring; the duke swore he would send for the archbishop; at last they were married with a ring of the BED-CURTAIN, at half-an-hour after twelve at night, at May-fair Chapel.'

This incident occurred in 1752, and reminds us of the marriage-scene described by Dryden in one of his tales, which was quoted by Lord Lyndhurst on that memorable occasion when he opposed Lord Campbell's Bill for the suppression of indecent publications, and made a speech which was more creditable to his wit than his taste, and perfectly horrifying to Lord Campbell, who inflicted a most damaging verbal castigation on his very sprightly but imprudent opponent.

Mr Manners, a relation of the Duke of Rutland, many years ago, lost a considerable sum to a well-known gamester, who set up his carriage in consequence. Being at a loss for a motto, Mr Manners suggested the following:—

The commanding officer of a Militia regiment having passed an evening with several of his officers, carried one of them, who was much intoxicated, to town with him. How the rest of the night was passed was not known—at least to the young man; but in the morning the colonel slipped into his hand a memorandum of his having lost to him at play L700—for which sum he was actually arrested ON THE PARADE the same day, and was compelled to grant an annuity to a nominee of the colonel for L100 per annum!

Archdeacon Bruges mentions a gentleman who was so thorough a gamester, that he left in his will an injunction that his bones should be made into dice, and his skin prepared so as to be a covering for dice-boxes!(31)

A blackleg, famous for 'cogging a die,' said that there had been great sport at Newmarket. 'What!' said Foote, 'I suppose you were detected, and kicked out of the Hazard room.'

F—d, the Clerk of the Arraigns, brought off Lookup when indicted for perjury. Foote, afterwards playing with him at Whist, said, 'F—d, you can do anything, after bringing of Lookup. I don't wonder you hold thirteen trumps in your hand. The least he could do was to teach you the "long shuffle" for your services.'

The Rev. Dr Dodd was a very unlucky gamester, and received a guinea to forfeit twenty if he ever played again above a guinea. This, among gamblers, is termed being TIED UP. When the doctor was executed for forgery a gentleman observed to Foote—'I suppose the doctor is launched into eternity by this time.' 'How so?' said Foote, 'he was TIED UP long ago.'

Lord C— lost one night L33,000 to General Scott. The amiable peer, however, benefited by the severe lesson, and resolved never again to lose more than one hundred at a sitting! He is said to have strictly kept his resolve.

Some gamblers duping a country fellow at the game called Put, in a public-house near St Pancras, one of them appealed to an Irishman who was looking on whether he had not THREE TREYS IN HIS HAND? 'You had all that,' said Paddy; 'and what's more, I saw you TAKE THEM ALL out of your pocket.'

The Honourable Jesse Anker, in order to dissipate the gloom occasioned by the loss of his wife, whom he passionately loved, had recourse to gaming, by which, at different times, he lost considerable sums, but not so as to injure his property, which was very large, in any material degree. The remedy did not prove effectual; he shot himself at his lodgings at Bath.

A gentleman who had been called out, applied to a friend who had won a large sum of money to be his second. 'My dear friend,' answered the gamester, 'I won fifteen hundred guineas last night, and shall cut a poor figure at fighting to-day; but if you apply to the person I won them of, he will fight like a devil, for he has not a farthing left.'

Lord Mark Stair and Lord Stair were at play in a coffee-house, when a stranger overlooked the game, and disturbed them with questions. Lord Mark said—'Let us throw dice to see which of us shall pink this impudent fellow.' Lord Stair won. The other exclaimed—'Ah! Stair, Stair! you have been always more fortunate in life than I.'

Captain Roche, alias Tyger, alias Savage Roche, who stuck his gaming companion's hand to the table with a fork for concealing a card under it, happened to be at the Bedford Billiard-table, which was extremely crowded. Roche was knocking the balls about with his cue, and Major Williamson, another celebrity, with whom he was engaged on business, desired him to leave off, as he hindered gentlemen from playing. 'Gentlemen?' sneeringly exclaimed Roche; 'why, major, except you and me (and two or three more) there is not a gentleman in the room—the rest are all blacklegs.'

On leaving the place, the major expressed his astonishment at his rudeness, and wondered, out of so numerous a company, it was not resented. 'Oh, sir,' said Roche, 'there was no fear of that; there was not a thief in the room who did not suppose himself one of "the two or three gentlemen" I mentioned.'

'As Faro is the most fashionable circular game in the haut ton in exclusion of melancholy Whist, and to prevent a company being cantoned into separate parties, a gentleman of unexceptionable character will, on invitation, do himself the honour to attend the rout of any lady, nobleman, or gentleman, with a Faro Bank and Fund, adequate to the style of play, from 500 to 2000 guineas.

'Address, G. A., by letter, to be left at Mr Harding's, Piccadilly, nearly opposite Bond Street.

'Any person who can command Two Thousand Pounds in ready money, may advance it in a speculation which will realize at least L100 per week, and perhaps not require the advance of above one half the money. The personal attendance of the party engaging is requisite; but there will be no occasion for articles of partnership, or any establishment, as the profits may be divided daily.'

At a Westminster election the keeper of a notorious gaming house in St Ann's parish was asked, as usual, what his trade was, when, after a little hesitation, he said, 'I am an ivory turner.'

Mrs Law, executrix of George Law, late proprietor of the Smyrna Coffee House, St James's Street, in 1807, found, among her husband's papers, several notes and memoranda of money advanced to a Mr Nelthorpe, which she put in suit. The latter alleged that they were for gambling purposes, and called Mrs Law to say whether her husband did not keep a common gambling house; and his counsel contended that it was clear the notes were for gaming transactions, BECAUSE they were for 100 GUINEAS, 200 GUINEAS, and so on—disdaining the vulgar enumeration of pounds. But the lord chancellor said that THE GAME PLAYED IN THE COURT OF CHANCERY—as far as counsel was concerned—was for GUINEAS.

Not long since an advertisement appeared, and was noticed by several of the papers, purporting to enable any person to realize a large fortune by a small advance to the advertiser. It will readily be seen that the following is the ORIGINAL of the scheme, put forth in the Morning Chronicle, in 1818:—

'Important Offer. A gentleman of respectability has discovered a method of winning at any game of chance, fairly and honourably, to a certainty, by a method hitherto unknown;—he will SELL THE SECRET for a consideration, or treat with a gentleman able to join him with a capital of L300, by which a fortune may be made; in either case he will engage with one person only. This will be found well worth the attention of a member of the superior clubs. **** No personal application will be answered.'

A gentleman celebrated for his quickness at repartee, when informed that a young nobleman of his acquaintance (remarkably fond of a fashionable game) had shot an immense number of RED partridges, and also of the BLACK game, which abounded on his estates, replied—'I am not in the least surprised; he was at all times, EVEN WHEN IN LONDON, devotedly attached to the GAME OF ROUGE ET NOIR.'

'My skill at billiards,' says a confessing gamester, 'gave me a superiority over most I met with. I could also hide my skill very dexterously, which is generally found a work of great difficulty, and judiciously winning or losing, I contrived to make it answer my purpose,—until one day, going to a table which I was very much in the practice of frequenting, and where no one was then engaged, I was invited by a stranger to play. I accepted the invitation for a small stake, and won very easily, so much so, that on commencing a new game I offered to give him six, to place us more on an equality. He accepted it eagerly, but it produced him no benefit; he played so badly, and managed both his cue and mace so awkwardly—for I made no objection to his changing them as often as he pleased—that, playing very carelessly, I could not avoid beating him. We continued increasing the stakes every successive game; money seemed of no value to him; he appeared to have plenty, and lost it with a spirit that told me I had got hold of an excellent subject, who could pay me well for beating him. I did not wish to win too palpably, and therefore kept increasing the advantage I yielded him, till it amounted to sixteen. He now proposed making the bet ONE HUNDRED POUNDS, and that I should give him eighteen. His eagerness, as well as the manner in which he handled his tools, convinced me of his inexperience, and I accepted the proposal;—but, to my surprise, he won the game. He laughed so heartily at the event, and conducted himself so extravagantly, that I felt persuaded the thing was accidental. He proposed doubling the stakes, which I refused; yet I agreed to play him for the same sum as before, but giving him only fourteen. By some chance he won again; and then I declined playing any more; but he pushed me so hard, and offered to play the even game rather than I should give over, that I was induced to yield. He declared he did not want my money, and wished to give me an opportunity of recovering it. It was the depth of artifice, and I discovered it too late. He won . . . and I had no money to pay! One of the bystanders took part with him; my case did not invite or interest any one to stand by me. I was treated with great indignity; and though I gave up my watch and every article of value I possessed, yet I was not allowed to depart without very ill usage. I had transgressed the laws of gaming, by betting after I had ceased to be able to pay; but I had so confidently felt that I had my antagonist in my own power, that I considered the stake as my own as soon as the bet was made. The injuries I received were very severe, and confined me to my bed for several days.'(32)

The splendid and fascinating game of Billiards seems to have been an English invention; and it became greatly in vogue during the reign of Louis XIV. of France, to whom it was recommended by his physicians as an exercise after meals.

It is said that Chamillard, who played with the king, entirely owed his political fortune to the skill which he displayed in this game. Billiards has not as yet been placed, like skittles and bowls, under the interdict of the police authorities, and it is difficult to see how they could venture upon so tremendous an experiment. The game seems to be more in vogue than ever, and doubtless heavy sums are lost and won at it. Billiard matches have during the last three years become quite one of the winter exhibitions, and particularly this season have the public shown their taste for the game. Perhaps the extraordinary performances of some of the first-class cueists have stirred up the shades of Kentfield's days, his homely game of cannons off list cushions and gently-played strength strokes; or by chance those that favour Marden's style, his losing hazards and forcing half balls, have revived once more, and we yearn with wonder to see the great spot strokes of the present age, when as many red hazards can be scored in one break as were made in olden times in an evening's play. At the present time Roberts, sen., may claim the honour in the billiard world of having brought the spot stroke to light: he has made no less than 104 consecutive hazards in one break, and up to the present winter that wonderful performance stood unparalleled. Cook, however, very recently in an exhibition match with J. Bennett, scored the spot hazard no less than 119 times, making 388 off the balls, the biggest break on record. Such feats as these, supplemented by the but little inferior play of Roberts, jun., and Bennett, have done more than excite surprise, and have caused old heads carefully to look into the style of play of 1869 and to ponder thereon. It appears that they affirm, and not without reason, that much of the success of the spot stroke arises from the position of the spot being further from the top cushion than formerly, and by this means not only is the angle of the striker's ball for position made easier, by a greater scope for screw or side, but the mouth of the pockets themselves are easier of access; and the chance of a wobble all but avoided. Billiard players and table makers should meet and arrange a regular standard size for table pockets and balls, with the spots at regulated positions. We should then be able to compare merits with greater certainty, and such terrible scores would not trouble the markers.

As a healthful exercise, and in its tendency to promote the physical development of the body, the game of Billiards is unsurpassed; but it is much to be regretted that it is generally-played in ill-ventilated and crowded rooms, often reeking with the pestilential fumes of tobacco, and not without the adjunct of frequent alcoholic potations. Moreover, there can be no doubt that many modern instances of billiard sharping occur, such as I have just quoted, in which the unwary are unscrupulously 'fleeced.' I know of several.

A certain high military character sat down to play with a Russian prince, who introduced loaded dice. The travelled Englishman lost every bet; for the Russian never missed his seven or eleven, and modestly threw only ten times. The supposed pigeon then took up the box with fair dice; and, having learned to 'secure,'(33) called different mains at pleasure; threw sixteen times; won all the aristocrat's money, and wished him good night. Such is the effect of not knowing your man!

John Metcalfe, much better known by the nickname of blind Jack of Knaresborough, was a celebrity at Harrowgate during the first quarter of the present century. This extraordinary man had been deprived of his eyesight at so early a period that he retained no idea of either light or vision; but his remaining faculties were so actively employed that few persons in the full enjoyment of sight have surpassed him in the execution of undertakings, which seemed particularly to require the exercise of that faculty. He traversed the neighbourhood without a guide or companion; surveyed tracts of country to plan and lay down roads, where none had ever been before; contracted for the building of bridges, and fulfilled his contracts without the assistance of another person, either as architect or superintendent of the work; became a guide to those who, possessing sight, could not find their way across the neighbouring moors when covered with deep falls of snow and impenetrable fogs; rode well, and followed the hounds with a zeal and spirit equal to that of the most dashing horseman in the field, and, finally, played at many games of chance, or skill, with a knowledge and ingenuity that enabled him to come off victorious in many contests with persons eager to try his ability or to prove their own.

Such a man was sure to attract notice in any place or neighbourhood, but particularly at a place of general resort. Besides, he possessed a facetious mode of talking, and on several occasions exercised a practical sort of wit, which was equally certain of gaining patronage. Visitors of the highest rank treated him with kindness, and even familiarity; and as he never forgot himself, or trespassed upon those who thus favoured him, he continued in fashion as long as he lived, and terminated his singular career at more than 80 years of age.

Among his many exploits was the following. Various trials of his skill and activity were proposed by gentlemen who offered to support their opinions with their money. But Metcalfe had a determination of his own, and refused taking a share in any of the ingenious proposals urged upon him, until a country squire, the Nimrod of a neighbouring district, submitted a plan which he expected would baffle all his manoeuvres. He asked the blind man if he was willing to run 100 yards against his favourite mare. The offer was immediately accepted—provided he might CHOOSE THE GROUND, which should be an open space on the adjoining moor. The stakes were deposited the same evening; and a fine level space being selected, and the distance marked out with great exactness early the following morning, the decision followed with little delay. The party selected to ride against the blind man was much admired for his horsemanship; and at the appointed time, every preparation being completed, the signal was given and the race commenced. The horseman was instantly far ahead, but before he could finish his stipulated distance the fore feet of his hunter sank deep in a bog, from which, being unable to extricate them, he came completely over, treating his rider with a tremendous somerset. The loud shouts of the spectators announced to the blind man that his expectations were realized. The turf showed no apparent difference, and was sufficiently strong to carry a man with safety,—perhaps it would have borne a horse going only at a moderate pace, but at full speed his feet pierced the sod, and entangled him in the hidden danger. Metcalfe passed his extended rival, terminated his career, and won the race before those who had run to the prostrate horseman could render him any assistance. Indeed, it was too late for that purpose, he had finished his earthly course having ruptured a vessel near the heart in his fall!

A young and wealthy commoner, who seemed to vie with the pea-green in the desperate folly of getting rid of a suddenly obtained fortune of L130,000 in ready money, as fast as possible, and whose relish for the society of legs, bullies, and fighting men was equally notorious, went to the Fishmonger's Hall Club late one morning, much flushed with wine. The well-lighted avenues directed him to the French Hazard table. There was no play going on at the time, but at the entrance of this PIGEON, who before had been DRAWN of a good round sum, the box and dice were soon put in motion, and 'seven's the main, seven,' was promptly the cry. A certain noble lord, who had been for years an experienced NURSE of the dice, and who knew how to NICK the MAINS or THROW CRABS, as well as the best leg in England, held the bow. The commoner commenced by backing the noble lord IN. The noble lord threw OUT. He then backed the noble lord OUT, and the noble lord threw in. He backed the noble lord OUT again, who threw five to the main. The commoner betted the odds deeply at the rate of three to two. The noble lord threw the FIVE. The commoner, uneasy, changed about, and backed the noble lord IN for a large stake,—the noble lord then threw OUT. The commoner now rose in a rage, and insinuated broadly that he was cheated, robbed, and it could not be fair play. Of course much indignation was shown by the noble lord, and it was with difficulty that a fight was prevented; but his lordship, nevertheless, condescended to demonstrate that he played his own money at the time, and what he lost found its way into the bank, with which 'he was not at all connected.' This reasoning satisfied the suspicious young commoner (poor easy man!); an apology was given; and peace was restored.

A party of players were assembled to throw for a stake, which was enormous. It was, however, agreed that the LOWEST throw should win. The players threw until one of them turned up two aces. All but one had thrown, and shouts of applause greeted the lucky caster, when the last who was to throw exclaimed—'Hold! I'll try and beat that.' . . .

Rattling the dice, he turned down the box on the table, and on lifting it up displayed the two dice ONE UPON THE TOP OF THE OTHER, and both aces! He was therefore declared the winner.(34)

A French lady had an only child, a handsome young man, much addicted to gaming. He lost at one sitting L40,000, and being destitute of other resources, he joined a company of strolling players. They chanced some time afterwards to pass a short time at Worcester, near which his mother, who was considerably advanced in years, resided. The lady, though highly displeased with her son's life, yet, hearing of his performance, could not resist a wish to see him; and for this purpose she went thither incog. He supported the principal character in 'The Gamester.'

The feelings of the mother were so excited at the passages which closely applied to her son's conduct, that she exclaimed aloud, 'Ay, there he is—the—the beggar—the scoundrel! Always the same—no change in him!' The delusion so increased at the fifth act, when Beverley lifts his hand to kill the child, that the lady in a most distressing tone cried out—'Wretch that thou art, don't kill the child—I'll take it home with me!'

A Frenchman who had become notorious for the unerring certainty with which he won from all who ventured to play with him, at length found himself unable to induce persons to sit down to the table with him, there being not the slightest chance of winning against his play. After being thus idle for some time, an Englishman, who had heard of his triumphs, expressed his readiness to enter the lists against him. They sat down, and played for three hours without intermission, and at the end of that time were exactly in the same position as when they begun. They at length paused to take some refreshment. 'Sare,' said the Frenchman, in a sort of whisper, to a party who accompanied his antagonist, 'your friend is a very clever man at de cards—deuced clever, sare.' 'He is a very clever fellow,' observed the Englishman. 'I shall try him again,' said Monsieur; and as he made the observation he proceeded to the room in which they had been playing, and which was fixed on as the scene of their continued contest. He had scarcely quitted the place when the other made his appearance, and observed that the Frenchman was the most skilful player he had ever met with. The parties again met, and the cards were again produced. The game was renewed at eleven o'clock, and continued without intermission till six o'clock on the following morning, at which time they found, to the surprise of each other, that they were still as they began. 'Sare,' said the Frenchman, 'you are the best player I ever met with.' 'And you, Monsieur,' returned the other, 'are the only gentleman I ever played with, from whom I could win nothing.' 'Indeed, sare!' said Monsieur, hesitatingly. 'It is a fact, I assure you.' 'Sare, I am quite astonished at your skill.' 'And I'm not less so at yours, Monsieur.' 'You're de most skilfullest man at de cards in England.' 'Not while you are in it, Monsieur,' replied the Englishman, with a smile. 'Sare, I CHEATED, and yet could not win from you!' remarked the Frenchman, hurriedly and with much emphasis, feeling it impossible any longer to conceal his surprise at the circumstance of being unable to play a winning game with the Englishman. 'And, Monsieur, I did the same thing with you, and yet you are no loser!' remarked the other, with corresponding energy of tone.

The problem was thus solved: both had been cheating during the whole night, and were exactly equal in dexterity, both being unconscious of the dishonest practices of each other; and the result was that each got up from the table with the same amount of money as he had when he sat down. The cheats cordially shook hands, apparently much gratified that they had at length ascertained how it had happened that neither could pluck the other.