A GAMBLING house at the end of the last century was conducted
by the following officials: —
1. A Commissioner, — who was always a proprietor; who
looked in of a night, and audited the week's account with two
other proprietors.
2. A Director, — who superintended the room.
3. An Operator, — who dealt the cards at the cheating game
called Faro.
4. Two Croupiers, or crow-pees, as they were
vulgarly called, whose duty it was to watch the cards and gather
or rake in the money for the bank.
5. Two Puffs, — who had money given to them to decoy
others to play.
6. A Clerk, — who was a check on the Puffs, to
see that they sank none of the money given to
them to play with.
7. A Squib, — who was a puff of a lower rank, serving at
half salary, whilst learning to deal.
8. A Flasher, — to swear how often the bank had been
stripped by lucky players.
9. A Dunner, — who went about to recover money lost at
play.
10. A Waiter, — to fill out wine, snuff candles, and
attend the room.
11. An Attorney, — who was generally a Newgate solicitor.
12. A Captain, — who was to fight any gentleman who might
be peevish at losing his money.
13. An Usher, — who lighted the gentlemen up and down
stairs, and gave the word to the porter.
14. A Porter, — who was generally a soldier of the Foot
Guards.
15. An Orderly-man, — who walked up and down the outside
of the door, to give notice to the porter, and alarm the house at
the approach of the constables.
16. A Runner, — who was to get intelligence of the
Justices' meetings.
17. Link Boys, Coachmen, Chairmen, Drawers,
and others, who brought the first intelligence of Justices'
meetings, of constables going out, at half a guinea reward.
18. Common Bail, Affidavit Men, Ruffians, Bravos,
Assassins, &. &.
It may be proper to remark that the above list of
officials was only calculated for gambling houses of an inferior
order. In these it is evident that the fear of interruption and
the necessity for precaution presided over the arrangements.
There were others, however, which seemed to defy law, to spurn at
justice, and to remain secure, in every way, by the
`respectability' of their frequenters. These were houses
supported at an amazing expense — within sight of the palace —
which were open every night and all night — where men of the first
rank were to be found gambling away immense sums of money, such
as no man, whatever his fortune might be, could sustain. `What,
then,' says a writer at the time, `are the consequences? Why,
that the undone part of them sell their votes for
bread, and the successful give them for honours.
`He who has never seen the gamblers' apartments in some of
the magnificent houses in the
neighbourhood of
St James's, has never seen the most horrid sight that the
imagination of a thinking man can conceive.
`A new pack of cards is called for at every deal, and the
"old'' ones are then thrown upon the floor, and in such an
immense quantity, that the writer of this letter has seen a very
large room nearly ankle-deep, in the greatest part of it,
by four o'clock in the morning! Judge, then, to what height they
must have risen by daylight.'
It is a melancholy truth, but confirmed by the history of
all nations, that the most polite and refined age of a kingdom is
never the most virtuous; not, indeed, that any such compliment
can be paid to that gross age, but still it was refined compared
with the past. The distinctions of personal merit being but
little regarded — in the low moral tone that prevailed — there
needed but to support a certain `figure' in life (managed by the
fashionable tailor)[4], to be conversant with a few
etiquettes of good breeding and sentiments of modern or current
honour, in
order to be received with affability
and courteous attention in the highest circles. The vilest
sharper, having once gained admission, was sure of constant
entertainment, for nothing formed a greater cement of union than
the spirit of
high gaming. There being so little
cognizance taken of the good qualities of the heart in
fashionable assemblies, no wonder that amid the medley of
characters to be found in these places the `sharper' of polite
address should gain too easy an admission.
[4] `How shalt
thou to Cæsar's hall repair?
For, ah! no
damaged coat can enter there!'
BEATTIE'S
Minstrel.
This fraternity of artists — whether they were to be
denominated rooks,[5] sharps, sharpers, black-legs, Greeks, or
gripes — were exceedingly numerous, and were dispersed among all
ranks of society.
[5] So called because rooks are famous for stealing materials out
of other birds' nests to build their own.
The follies and vices of others — of open-hearted youth in
particular — were the great game or pursuit of this odious crew.
Though cool and dispassionate themselves, they did all in their
power to throw others off their guard, that they might make their
advantage of them.
In others they promoted excess of all kinds, whilst they
themselves took care to maintain the utmost sobriety and
temperance. `Gamesters,'
says Falconer, `whose
minds must be always on the watch to take advantages, and
prepared to form calculations, and to employ the memory,
constantly avoid a full meal of animal food, which they find
incapacitates them for play nearly as much as a quantity of
strong liquor would have done, for which reason they feed chiefly
on milk and vegetables.'
As profit, not pleasure, was the aim of these knights of
darkness, they lay concealed under all shapes and disguises, and
followed up their game with all wariness and discretion. Like
wise traders, they made it the business of their lives to excel
in their calling.
For this end they studied the secret mysteries of their
art by night and by day; they improved on the scientific schemes
of their profound master, Hoyle, and on his deep doctrines and
calculations of chances. They became skilful without a rival
where skill was necessary, and fraudulent without conscience
where fraud was safe and advantageous; and while fortune or
chance appeared to direct everything, they practised numberless
devices by which they insured her ultimate favours to themselves.
Of these none were more efficacious, be
cause
none are more ensnaring, than bribing their young and artless
dupes to future play by suffering them to win at their first
onsets. By rising a winner the dupe imbibed a confidence in his
own gambling abilities, or deemed himself a favourite of fortune.
He engaged again, and was again successful — which increased his
exultation and confirmed his future confidence; and thus did the
simple gudgeon swallow their bait, till it became at last fast
hooked.
When rendered thus secure of their prey, they began to
level their whole train of artillery against the boasted honours
of his short-lived triumph. Then the extensive manors, the
ancient forests, the paternal mansions, began to tremble for
their future destiny. The pigeon was marked down, and the
infernal crew began in good earnest to pluck his rich plumage.
The wink was given on his appearance in the room, as a signal of
commencing their covert attacks. The shrug, the nod, the hem —
every motion of the eyes, hands, feet — every air and gesture,
look and word — became an expressive, though disguised, language
of fraud and cozenage, big with deceit and swollen with ruin.
Besides this, the card was marked, or
`slipped,' or
covered. The story is told of a noted
sharper of distinction, a foreigner, whose hand was thrust
through with a fork by his adversary, Captain Roche, and thus
nailed to the table, with this cool expression of concern — `I ask
your pardon, sir, if you have not the knave of clubs under your
hand.' The cards were packed, or cut, or even
swallowed.
A card has been eaten between two slices of bread and butter, for
the purpose of concealment.
With wily craft the sharpers substituted their deceitful
`doctors' or false dice; and thus `crabs,' or `a losing game,'
became the portion of the `flats,' or dupes.
There were different ways of throwing dice. There was the
`Stamp' — when the caster with an elastic spring of the wrist
rapped the cornet or box with vehemence on the table, the dice as
yet not appearing from under the box. The `Dribble' was, when
with an air of easy but ingenious motion, the caster poured, as
it were, the dice on the board — when, if he happened to be an old
practitioner, he might suddenly cog with his fore-finger one of
the cubes. The `Long Gallery' was when the dice were flung or
hurled the whole length of the board. Some
times the dice were thrown off the table, near a confederate,
who, in picking them up, changed one of the fair for a false die
with two sixes. This was generally done at the first throw, and
at the last, when the fair die was replaced. The sixes were on
the opposite squares, so that the fraud could only be detected by
examination. Of course this trick could only be practised at
raffles, where only three throws are required.
A pair of false dice was arranged as follows: —
On one die,
- Two fives
-
Two fours
-
Two threes
On the other,
-
Two Sixes
-
Two Fives
-
Two Aces
With these dice it was impossible to throw what is at
Hazard denominated Crabs, or a losing game — that is,
aces, or ace and deuce, twelve, or
seven. Hence, the caster always called for his
main; consequently, as he could neither throw one nor
seven, let his chance be what it might, he was sure to
win, and he and those who were in the secret of course always
took the odds. The false dice being concealed in the left
hand, the caster took the box with the fair dice in it in his
right hand, and in the act of shaking it caught the fair dice in
his hand, and unperceived shifted the box empty to
his left, from which he dropped the false dice into the box,
which he began to rattle, called his main seven, and threw.
Having won his stake he repeated it as often as he thought
proper. He then caught the false dice in the same way, shifted
the empty box again, and threw till he threw out, still calling
the same main, by which artifice he escaped suspicion.
Two gambling adventurers would set out with a certain
number of signs and signals. The use of the handkerchief during
the game was the certain evidence of a good hand. The use of the
snuff-box a sign equally indicative of a bad one. An affected
cough, apparently as a natural one, once, twice, three, or four
times repeated, was an assurance of so many honours in hand.
Rubbing the left eye was an invitation to lead trumps, — the right
eye the reverse, — the cards thrown down with one finger and the
thumb was a sign of one trump; two fingers and the thumb, two
trumps, and so on progressively, and in exact explanation of the
whole hand, with a variety of manœuvres by which chance was
reduced to certainty, and certainty followed by ruin.[6]
[6] Bon Ton Magazine, 1791.
