The History of Gambling in England

“The late Duke of B. being chagrined at losing a considerable sum, pressed Mr Nash to tie him up for the future from playing deep. Accordingly, the beau gave his grace an hundred guineas, to forfeit ten thousand, whenever he lost a sum, to the same amount, at play at one sitting. The duke loved play to distraction; and, soon after, at hazard, lost eight thousand guineas, and was going to throw for three thousand more, when Nash, catching hold of the dice box, entreated his grace to reflect upon the penalty if he lost. The duke, for that time, desisted; but so strong was the furor of play upon him that, soon after losing a considerable sum at Newmarket, he was contented to pay the penalty.

“When the late Earl of T – d was a youth, he was passionately fond of play, and never better pleased than with having Mr Nash for his antagonist. Nash saw, with concern, his lordship’s foible, and undertook to cure him, though by a very disagreeable remedy. Conscious of his own superior skill, he determined to engage him in single play for a very considerable sum. His lordship, in proportion as he lost his game, lost his temper, too; and, as he approached the gulph, seemed still more eager for ruin. He lost his estate; some writings were put into the winner’s possession: his very equipage deposited as a last stake, and he lost that also. But, when our generous gamester had found his lordship sufficiently punished for his temerity, he returned all, only stipulating that he should be paid five thousand pounds whenever he should think proper to make the demand. However, he never made any such demand during his lordship’s life; but, some time after his decease, Mr Nash’s affairs being in the wane, he demanded the money of his lordship’s heirs, who honourably paid it without any hesitation.”

There is a sad story told of a lady gambler at Bath, which must have occurred about this time, say 1750 or thereabouts. Miss Frances Braddock, daughter of a distinguished officer, Maj. – Gen. Braddock, was the admiration of the circle in which she moved. Her person was elegant, her face beautiful, and her mind accomplished. Unhappily for her, she spent a season at Bath, where she was courted by the fashionables there present, for her taste was admirable and her wit brilliant. Her father, at his death, bequeathed twelve thousand pounds between her and her sister (a large amount in those days), besides a considerable sum to her brother, Maj. – Gen. Braddock, who was, in the American War, surrounded by Indians, and mortally wounded, dying 13th July 1755. Four years after her father’s death, her sister died, by which her fortune was doubled – but, alas! in the course of one short month, she lost the whole; gambled away at cards.

It soon became known that she was penniless, and her sensitive spirit being unable to brook the real and fictitious condolences, she robed herself in maiden white, and, tying a gold and silver girdle together, she hanged herself therewith, dying at the early age of twenty-three years.

Gossiping Horace Walpole gives us many anecdotes of gambling in his time, scattered among his letters to Sir Horace Mann, &c. In one of them (Dec. 26, 1748), he tells a story of Sir William Burdett, of whom he says; “in short, to give you his character at once, there is a wager entered in the bet book at White’s (a MS. of which I may, one day or other, give you an account), that the first baronet that will be hanged, is this Sir William Burdett.”

The Baronet casually met Lord Castledurrow (afterwards Viscount Ashbrook), and Captain (afterwards Lord) Rodney, “a young seaman, who has made a fortune by very gallant behaviour during the war,” and he asked them to dinner.

“When they came, he presented them to a lady, dressed foreign, as a princess of the house of Brandenburg: she had a toad eater, and there was another man, who gave himself for a count. After dinner, Sir William looked at his watch, and said ‘J – s! it is not so late as I thought, by an hour; Princess, will your Highness say how we shall divert ourselves till it is time to go to the play! ‘Oh!’ said she, ‘for my part, you know I abominate everything but Pharaoh.’ ‘I am very sorry, Madam,’ replied he, very gravely, ‘but I don’t know whom your Highness will get to tally to you; you know I am ruined by dealing.’ ‘Oh!’ says she, ‘the Count will deal to us.’ ‘I would, with all my soul,’ said the Count, ‘but I protest I have no money about me.’ She insisted: at last the Count said, ‘Since your Highness commands us peremptorily, I believe Sir William has four or five hundred pounds of mine, that I am to pay away in the city to-morrow; if he will be so good as to step to his bureau for that sum, I will make a bank of it.’ Mr Rodney owns he was a little astonished at seeing the Count shuffle with the faces of the cards upwards; but, concluding that Sir William Burdett, at whose house he was, was a relation, or particular friend of Lord Castledurrow, he was unwilling to affront my lord. In short, my lord and he lost about a hundred and fifty apiece, and it was settled that they should meet for payment, the next morning, at Ranelagh. In the meantime, Lord C. had the curiosity to inquire a little into the character of his new friend, the Baronet; and being au fait, he went up to him at Ranelagh, and apostrophised him; ‘Sir William, here is the sum I think I lost last night; since that, I have heard that you are a professed pickpocket, and, therefore, desire to have no farther acquaintance with you.’ Sir William bowed, took the money and no notice; but, as they were going away, he followed Lord Castledurrow, and said, ‘Good God! my lord, my equipage is not come; will you be so good as to set me down at Buckingham Gate?’ and, without waiting for an answer, whipped into the chariot, and came to town with him. If you don’t admire the coolness of this impudence, I shall wonder.”

“10 Jan. 1750. To make up for my long silence, and to make up a long letter, I will string another story, which I have just heard, to this. General Wade was at a low gaming house, and had a very fine snuff-box, which, on a sudden, he missed. Everybody denied having taken it: he insisted on searching the company. He did: there remained only one man, who had stood behind him, but refused to be searched, unless the General would go into another room, alone, with him. There the man told him, that he was born a gentleman, was reduced, and lived by what little bets he could pick up there, and by fragments which the waiters sometimes gave him. ‘At this moment I have half a fowl in my pocket; I was afraid of being exposed; here it is! Now, Sir, you may search me.’ Wade was so struck, that he gave the man a hundred pounds; and, immediately, the genius of generosity, whose province is almost a sinecure, was very glad of the opportunity of making him find his own snuff-box, or another very like it, in his own pocket again.”

“19 Dec. 1750. Poor Lord Lempster is more Cerberus28 than ever; (you remember his bon mot that proved such a blunder;) he has lost twelve thousand pounds at hazard, to an ensign of the guards.”

“23 Feb. 1755. The great event is the catastrophe of Sir John Bland, who has flirted away his whole fortune at hazard. He, t’other night, exceeded what was lost by the late Duke of Bedford, having, at one period of the night, (though he recovered the greatest part of it) lost two and thirty thousand pounds. The citizens put on their double channeled pumps, and trudge to St James’s Street, in expectation of seeing judgments executed on White’s – angels with flaming swords, and devils flying away with dice boxes, like the prints in Sadeler’s Hermits.29 Sir John lost this immense sum to a Captain Scott,30 who, at present, has nothing but a few debts and his commission.”

“20 Ap. 1756. I shall send you, soon, the fruits of my last party to Strawberry; Dick Edgecumbe, George Selwyn, and Williams were with me; we composed a coat of arms for the two clubs at White’s, which is actually engraving from a very pretty painting of Edgecumbe,31 whom Mr Chute, as Strawberry King at Arms, has appointed our chief herald painter; here is the blazon: —

Vert (for card table), between three parolis proper, on a chevron table (for hazard table), two rouleaus in saltire, between two dice proper; in a canton, sable, a white ball (for election), argent.

Supporters, An old Knave of Clubs on the dexter, a young Knave on the sinister side; both accoutred proper.

Crest, Issuing out of an earl’s coronet (Lord Darlington) an arm shaking a dice box, all proper.

Motto (alluding to the crest), Cogit amor nummi. The arms encircled by a claret bottle ticket, by way of Order.”

“14 May 1761. Jemmy Lumley, last week, had a party of whist at his own house; the combatants, Lucy Southwell, that curtseys like a bear, Mrs Prijeau, and a Mrs Mackenzie. They played from six in the evening till twelve the next day; Jemmy never winning one rubber, and rising a loser of two thousand pounds. How it happened, I know not, nor why his suspicions arrived so late, but he fancied himself cheated, and refused to pay. However, the bear had no share in his evil surmises: on the contrary, a day or two afterwards, he promised a dinner at Hampstead to Lucy and her virtuous sister. As he went to the rendezvous, his chaise was stopped by somebody, who advised him not to proceed. Yet, no whit daunted, he advanced. In the garden, he found the gentle conqueress, Mrs Mackenzie, who accosted him in the most friendly manner. After a few compliments, she asked him if he did not intend to pay her. ‘No, indeed I shan’t, I shan’t; your servant, your servant.’ ‘Shan’t you,’ said the fair virago; and, taking a horsewhip from beneath her hoop, she fell upon him with as much vehemence as the Empress Queen would upon the King of Prussia, if she could catch him alone in the garden at Hampstead. Jemmy cried out Murder; his servants rushed in, rescued him from the jaws of the lioness, and carried him off in his chaise to town. The Southwells, who were already arrived, and descended, on the noise of the fray, finding nobody to pay for the dinner, and fearing they must, set out for London without it.”

“3 Dec. 1761. If you are acquainted with my Lady Barrymore, pray tell her that, in less than two hours, t’other night, the Duke of Cumberland lost four hundred and fifty pounds at Loo; Miss Pelham won three hundred, and I, the rest. However, in general, Loo is extremely gone to decay: I am to play at Princess Emily’s to-morrow, for the first time this winter; and it is with difficulty that she has made a party.”

“2 Feb. 1770. The gaming at Almack’s, which has taken the pas of White’s, is worthy of the decline of our Empire, or Commonwealth, which you please. The young men of the age lose five, ten, fifteen thousands pounds in an evening there. Lord Stavordale, not one and twenty, lost eleven thousand there, last Tuesday, but recovered it by one great hand at hazard: he swore a great oath, – ‘Now, if I had been playing deep, I might have won millions.’ His cousin, Charles Fox, shines equally there, and in the House of Commons.”

“18 Aug. 1776. To-day I have heard the shocking news of Mr Damer’s death, who shot himself yesterday, at three o’clock in the morning, at a tavern in Covent Garden. My first alarm was for Mr Conway; not knowing what effect such a horrid surprise would have on him, scarce recovered from an attack himself; happily, it proves his nerves were not affected, for I have had a very calm letter from him on the occasion. Mr Charles Fox, with infinite good nature, met Mrs Damer coming to town, and stopped her to prepare her for the dismal event. It is almost impossible to refrain from bursting into commonplace reflections on this occasion; but, can the walls of Almack’s help moralizing, when £5000 a year, in present, and £22,000 in reversion, are not sufficient for happiness, and cannot check a pistol!”

“19 Jan. 1777. Lord Dillon told me this morning that Lord Besborough and he, playing at quinze t’other night with Miss Pelham, and, happening to laugh, she flew in a passion and said, ‘It was terrible to play with boys!’ And our two ages together, said Lord Dillon, make up above a hundred and forty.”

“6 Feb. 1780. Within this week there has been a cast at hazard at the Cocoa Tree, the difference of which amounted to a hundred and four score thousand pounds. Mr O’Birne, an Irish gamester, had won one hundred thousand pounds of a young Mr Harvey, of Chigwell, just started from a midshipman32 into an estate, by his elder brother’s death. O’Birne said, ‘You never can pay me.’ ‘I can,’ said the youth; my estate will sell for the debt.’ ‘No,’ said O., ‘I will win ten thousand – you shall throw for the odd ninety.’ They did, and Harvey won.”

“29 Jan. 1791. Pray delight in the following story: Caroline Vernon, fille d’honneur, lost, t’other night, two hundred pounds at faro, and bade Martindale mark it up. He said he would rather have a draft on her banker. ‘Oh! willingly’; and she gave him one. Next morning, he hurried to Drummond’s, lest all her money should be drawn out. ‘Sir,’ said the clerk, ‘would you receive the contents immediately?’ ‘Assuredly.’ ‘Why, sir, have you read the note?’ Martindale took it; it was, ‘Pay the bearer two hundred blows, well applied.’ The nymph tells the story herself; and, yet, I think, the clerk had the more humour of the two.”

There can be no doubt but that in the last half of the eighteenth century, gambling for large sums was very rife. We have evidence of it on all hands.

“Ann. Reg., 8 Feb. 1766. We are informed that a lady, at the West end of the town, lost, one night, at a sitting, 3000 guineas at Loo.”

Par parenthèse, the same volume has (p. 191) the following horrible story: “A circumstantial and authentic account of the miserable case of Richard Parsons, as transmitted in a letter from William Dallaway, Esq., High Sheriff of Gloucestershire, to his friend in London.

“On the 20th of February last, Richard Parsons, and three more men met at a private house at Chalford, in order to play at cards, about six o’clock in the evening. They played at loo till about eleven or twelve that night, when they changed their game to whist: after a few deals, a dispute arose about the state of the game. Parsons affirmed, with oaths, that they were six, which the others denied, upon which he wished ‘that he might never enter the kingdom of heaven, that his flesh might rot upon his bones, if they were not six in the game.’ These wishes were several times repeated, both then and afterwards. Upon this, the candle was put out by one James Young, a stander by, who says he was shocked with the oaths and expressions he heard; and that he put out the candle with a design to put an end to the game.

“Presently, upon this, they adjourned to another house, and there began a fresh game, when Parsons and his partner had great success. Then they played at loo again till four in the morning. During this second playing, Parson complained to one Rolles, his partner, of a bad pain in his leg, which, from that time, increased. There was an appearance of a swelling, and, afterwards, the colour changing to that of a mortified state. On the following Sunday, he rode to Minchin Hampton, to get the advice of Mr Pegler, the surgeon in that town, who attended him from the Thursday after February 27. Notwithstanding all the applications that were made, the mortification increased, and showed itself in different parts of the body. On Monday, March 3, at the request of some of his female relations, the clergyman of Bisley attended him, and administered the sacrament, without any knowledge of what had happened before, and which he continued a stranger to, till he saw the account in the Gloucester Journal. Parsons appeared to be extremely ignorant of religion, having been accustomed to swear, to drink (though he was not in liquor when he uttered the above execrable wish), to game, and to profane the Sabbath, though he was only in his nineteenth year. After he had received the Sacrament, he appeared to have some sense of the ordinance; for he said, ‘Now I must never sin again; he hoped God would forgive him, having been wicked not above six years, and that, whatsoever should happen, he would not play at cards again.’

“After this, he was in great agony, chiefly delirious, spoke of his companions by name, and seemed as if his imagination was engaged at cards. He started, had distracted looks and gestures, and, in a dreadful fit of shaking and trembling, died on Tuesday morning, the 4th of March last: and was buried the next day at the parish church of Bisley. His eyes were open when he died, and could not be closed by the common methods; so that they remained open when he was put into the coffin. From this circumstance arose a report, that he wished his eyes might never close; but this was a mistake; for, from the most creditable witnesses, I am fully convinced that no such wish was uttered; and the fact is, that he did close his eyes after he was taken with the mortification, and either dozed or slept several times.

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

But this is a digression. Among the deaths recorded in the Gents’ Magazine for 1776, is “Ap. 30. William G – , Esq.: who, having been left £18,000, a few months before, by his father, lost it all by gaming, in less than a month; in the Rules of the King’s Bench.”

“Oct. 25, 1777. At the Sessions for the County of Norfolk, a tradesman of Norwich, for cheating at cards, was fined £20, and sentenced to suffer six months’ imprisonment in the castle, without bail or main prize; and, in case the said fine was not paid at the expiration of the term, then to stand on the pillory, one hour, with his ears nailed to the same.”

The gamblers of those days were giants in their way, there were George Selwyn, Lord Carlisle, Stephen Fox, who, on one occasion was fleeced most unmercifully at a West-end gambling house. He went into it with £13,000, and left without a farthing. His younger brother, Charles James, was a notorious gambler, and, if the following anecdote is true, not over honourable. He ranked among the admirers of Mrs Crewe. A gentleman lost a considerable sum to this lady at play, and, being obliged to leave town suddenly, gave Mr Fox the money to pay her, begging him to apologise to the lady for his not having paid the debt of honour in person. Fox, unfortunately, lost every shilling of it before morning. Mrs Crewe often met the supposed debtor afterwards, and, surprised that he never noticed the circumstance, at length, delicately hinted the matter to him. “Bless me,” said he, “I paid the money to Mr Fox three months ago.” “Oh! did you, Sir?” said Mrs Crewe, good-naturedly, “then probably he paid me, and I forgot it.”

Steinmetz33 (vol. i., p. 323) says: “Fox’s best friends are said to have been half-ruined in annuities given by them as securities for him to the Jews. £500,000 a year of such annuities of Fox and his ‘society’ were advertised to be sold at one time. Walpole wondered what Fox would do when he had sold the estates of his friends. Walpole further notes that, in the debate on the Thirty-nine Articles, Feb. 6, 1772, Fox did not shine; nor could it be wondered at. He had sat up playing at hazard, at Almack’s, from Tuesday evening, the 4th, till five in the afternoon of Wednesday, the 5th. An hour before, he had recovered £12,000 that he had lost; and by dinner, which was at five o’clock, he had ended, losing £11,000! On the Thursday, he spoke in the above debate; went to dinner at half-past eleven, at night; from thence to White’s, where he drank till seven the next morning; thence to Almack’s, where he won £6000; and, between three and four in the afternoon, he set out for Newmarket. His brother Stephen lost £11,000 two nights after, and Charles £10,000 more on the 13th, so that in three nights the two brothers – the eldest not twenty-five years of age – lost £32,000!”

CHAPTER V

The Gambling ladies – Ladies Archer, Buckinghamshire, Mrs Concannon, &c. – Private Faro Banks – Card-money – Gaming House end of Eighteenth Century – Anecdotes – The profits of Gaming Houses – C. J. Fox and Sir John Lade – Col. Hanger on gambling.

We have previously read how ladies of position kept gambling houses, and pleaded their privilege to do so; they, however, had to bow to the law. In the latter part of the eighteenth century many ladies opened their houses, the best known, probably, being Lady Buckinghamshire and Lady Archer. The former is said to have slept with a blunderbuss and a pair of pistols by her bedside, to protect her Faro bank; and the latter was notorious for her “make up,” as we may see by the two following notices in the Morning Post.

“Jan. 5, 1789. The Lady Archer, whose death was announced in this paper of Saturday, is not the celebrated character whose cosmetic powers have long been held in public estimation.”

“Jan. 8, 1789. It is said that the dealers in Carmine and dead white, as well as the perfumers in general, have it in contemplation to present an Address to Lady Archer, in gratitude for her not having DIED according to a late alarming report.”

We get portraits of these two ladies in a satirical print by Gillray (31st March 1792), which is entitled “Modern Hospitality, or a Friendly Party in High Life,” where they are shewn keeping a Faro bank; and as these fair ones were then somewhat passées, the picture has the following: – “To those earthly Divinities who charmed twenty years ago, this Honourable method of banishing mortifying reflections is dedicated. O, Woman! Woman! everlasting is your power over us, for in youth you charm away our hearts, and, in your after years, you charm away our purses!” The players are easily recognised. Lady Archer, who sits on the extreme left, has won largely; rouleaux of gold and bank notes are before her, and, on her right hand, are two heaps of loose gold: and the painted old gambler smiles as she shows her cards, saying, “The Knave wins all!” Her next-door neighbour, the Prince of Wales, who has staked and lost his last piece, lifts his hands and eyes in astonishment at the luck. Lady Buckinghamshire has doubled her stake, playing on two cards, and is, evidently, annoyed at her loss, while poor, black-muzzled Fox laments the loss of his last three pieces.

Gillray portrayed these two ladies on several occasions. There are two pictures of St James’s and St Giles’s, and in “Dividing the Spoil, St James’s, 1796,” we see Lady Archer and Lady Buckinghamshire quarrelling over gold, bank notes, a sword, and an order. One other lady, probably Lady Mount Edgecumbe, is scrutinising a bill, whilst a fourth, with a pile of gold and notes before her, looks on smilingly.

Another print (16th May 1796) is called “Faro’s Daughters, or the Kenyonian Blow Up to Gamblers.” Here we see Lady Archer and Mrs Concannon placed together in the pillory, where they are mutually upbraiding each other. The motif for this picture was a speech of Lord Kenyon’s, who, at a trial to recover £15, won at gaming on Sunday, at a public-house, commented very severely on the hold the vice of gaming had on all classes of society, from the highest to the lowest. The former, he said, set the example to the latter, and, he added, “They think they are too great for the law; I wish they could be punished” – and then continued, “If any prosecutions of this kind are fairly brought before me, and the parties are justly convicted, whatever be their rank or station in the country, though they be the first ladies in the land, they shall certainly exhibit themselves in the pillory.”

They were getting somewhat too notorious. In spite of Lady Buckinghamshire’s precautions of blunderbuss and pistols, her croupier, Martindale, announced, on 30th Jan. 1797, that the box containing the cash of the Faro bank had unaccountably disappeared. All eyes were turned towards her ladyship. Mrs Concannon said she once lost a gold snuff-box from the table when she went to speak to Lord C. Another lady said she lost her purse there the previous winter, and a story was told that a certain lady had taken by mistake a cloak which did not belong to her at a rout given by the late Countess of Guildford. Unfortunately, a discovery was made, and when the servant knocked at the door to demand it, some very valuable lace with which it was trimmed had been taken off. Some surmised that the lady who stole the cloak might also have stolen the Faro bank.