University of Virginia Library

GAMBLING OF COSTERMONGERS.

It would be difficult to find in the whole of this
numerous class, a youngster who is not — what
may be safely called — a desperate gambler. At
the age of fourteen this love of play first comes
upon the lad, and from that time until he is thirty
or so, not a Sunday passes but he is at his
stand on the gambling ground. Even if he has
no money to stake, he will loll away the morn-
ing looking on, and so borrow excitement from
the successes of others. Every attempt made
by the police, to check this ruinous system, has
been unavailing, and has rather given a gloss
of daring courage to the sport, that tends to
render it doubly attractive.

If a costermonger has an hour to spare, his
first thought is to gamble away the time. He
does not care what he plays for, so long as he
can have a chance of winning something.
Whilst waiting for a market to open, his delight
is to find out some pieman and toss him for his
stock, though, by so doing, he risks his market-
money and only chance of living, to win that
which he will give away to the first friend he
meets. For the whole week the boy will work
untiringly, spurred on by the thought of the
money to be won on the Sunday. Nothing
will damp his ardour for gambling, the most
continued ill-fortune making him even more
reckless than if he were the luckiest man alive.

Many a lad who had gone down to the gam-
bling ground, with a good warm coat upon his
back and his pocket well filled from the Satur-
day night's market, will leave it at evening
penniless and coatless, having lost all his earn-
ings, stock-money, and the better part of his
clothing. Some of the boys, when desperate
with "bad luck," borrow to the utmost limit of
their credit; then they mortgage their "king's-
man" or neck-tie, and they will even change
their cord trousers, if better than those of the
winner, so as to have one more chance at the
turn of fortune. The coldest winter's day will
not stop the Sunday's gathering on the river-
side, for the heat of play warms them in spite
of the sharp wind blowing down the Thames.
If the weather be wet, so that the half-pence
stick to the ground, they find out some railway-
arch or else a beer-shop, and having filled the
tap-room with their numbers, they muffle the
table with handkerchiefs, and play secretly.
When the game is very exciting, they will even
forget their hunger, and continue to gamble
until it is too dark to see, before they think of
eating. One man told me, that when he was
working the races with lemonade, he had often
seen in the centre of a group, composed of cos-
ters, thimble-riggers and showmen, as much as
100l. on the ground at one time, in gold and
silver. A friend of his, who had gone down in
company with him, with a pony-truck of toys,

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lost in less than an hour his earnings, truck,
stock of goods, and great-coat. Vowing to have
his revenge next time, he took his boy on his
back, and started off on the tramp to London,
there to borrow sufficient money to bring down
a fresh lot of goods on the morrow, and then
gamble away his earnings as before.

It is perfectly immaterial to the coster with
whom he plays, whether it be a lad from the
Lambeth potteries, or a thief from the West-
minster slums. Very often, too, the gamblers
of one costermonger district, will visit those of
another, and work what is called "a plant" in
this way. One of the visitors will go before
hand, and, joining a group of gamblers, com-
mence tossing. When sufficient time has
elapsed to remove all suspicion of companion-
ship, his mate will come up and commence bet-
ting on each of his pals' throws with those stand-
ing round. By a curious quickness of hand, a
coster can make the toss tell favourably for his
wagering friend, who meets him after the play
is over in the evening, and shares the spoil.

The spots generally chosen for the Sunday's
sport are in secret places, half-hidden from the
eye of the passers, where a scout can give quick
notice of the approach of the police: in the
fields about King's-cross, or near any unfinished
railway buildings. The Mint, St. George's-fields,
Blackfriars'-road, Bethnal-green, and Maryle-
bone, are all favourite resorts. Between Lam-
beth and Chelsea, the shingle on the left side of
the Thames, is spotted with small rings of lads,
half-hidden behind the barges. One boy (of
the party) is always on the look out, and even
if a stranger should advance, the cry is given of
"Namous" or "Kool Eslop." Instantly the
money is whipped-up and pocketed, and the
boys stand chattering and laughing together.
It is never difficult for a coster to find out
where the gambling parties are, for he has only
to stop the first lad he meets, and ask him
where the "erht pu" or "three up" is going
on, to discover their whereabouts.

If during the game a cry of "Police!" should
be given by the looker-out, instantly a rush at
the money is made by any one in the group, the
costers preferring that a stranger should have
the money rather than the policeman. There
is also a custom among them, that the ruined
player should be started again by a gift of 2d. in every shilling lost, or, if the loss is heavy, a
present of four or five shillings is made; neither
is it considered at all dishonourable for the party
winning to leave with the full bloom of success
upon him.

That the description of one of these Sunday
scenes might be more truthful, a visit was paid
to a gambling-ring close to — . Although not
twenty yards distant from the steam-boat pier,
yet the little party was so concealed among the
the coal-barges, that not a head could be seen.
The spot chosen was close to a small narrow
court, leading from the street to the water-side,
and here the lad on the look-out was stationed.
There were about thirty young fellows, some
tall strapping youths, in the costers' cable-cord
costume, — others, mere boys, in rags, from the
potteries, with their clothes stained with clay.
The party was hidden from the river by the
black dredger-boats on the beach; and it was so
arranged, that should the alarm be given, they
might leap into the coal-barges, and hide until
the intruder had retired. Seated on some oars
stretched across two craft, was a mortar-stained
bricklayer, keeping a look-out towards the river,
and acting as a sort of umpire in all disputes.
The two that were tossing had been playing
together since early morning; and it was easy
to tell which was the loser, by the anxious-look-
ing eye and compressed lip. He was quarrel-
some too; and if the crowd pressed upon him,
he would jerk his elbow back savagely, saying,
"I wish to C — t you'd stand backer." The
winner, a short man, in a mud-stained canvas
jacket, and a week's yellow beard on his chin,
never spake a word beyond his "heads," or
"tails;" but his cheeks were red, and the pipe
in his mouth was unlit, though he puffed at it.

In their hands they each held a long row of
halfpence, extending to the wrist, and topped by
shillings and half-crowns. Nearly every one
round had coppers in his hands, and bets were
made and taken as rapidly as they could be
spoken. "I lost a sov. last night in less than
no time," said one man, who, with his hands in
his pockets, was looking on; "never mind — I
musn't have no wenson this week, and try
again next Sunday."

The boy who was losing was adopting every
means to "bring back his luck again." Before
crying, he would toss up a halfpenny three
times, to see what he should call. At last,
with an oath, he pushed aside the boys round
him, and shifted his place, to see what that
would do; it had a good effect, for he won toss
after toss in a curiously fortunate way, and then
it was strange to watch his mouth gradually
relax and his brows unknit. His opponent was
a little startled, and passing his fingers through
his dusty hair, said, with a stupid laugh, "Well,
I never see the likes." The betting also began
to shift. "Sixpence Ned wins!" cried three or
four; "Sixpence he loses!" answered another;
"Done!" and up went the halfpence. "Half-
a-crown Joe loses!" — "Here you are," answered
Joe, but he lost again. "I'll try you a `gen' "
(shilling) said a coster; "And a `rouf yenap' "
(fourpence), added the other. "Say a `exes' "
(sixpence). — "Done!" and the betting con-
tinued, till the ground was spotted with silver
and halfpence.

"That's ten bob he's won in five minutes,"
said Joe (the loser), looking round with a forced
smile; but Ned (the winner) never spake a
word, even when he gave any change to his
antagonist; and if he took a bet, he only nodded
to the one that offered it, and threw down his
money. Once, when he picked up more than a
sovereign from the ground, that he had won in
one throw, a washed sweep, with a black rim
round his neck, said, "There's a hog!" but

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there wasn't even a smile at the joke. At last
Joe began to feel angry, and stamping his foot
till the water squirted up from the beach, cried,
"It's no use; luck's set in him — he'd muck a
thousand!" and so he shifted his ground, and
betted all round on the chance of better fortune
attending the movement. He lost again, and
some one bantering said, "You'll win the shine-
rag, Joe," meaning that he would be "cracked
up," or ruined, if he continued.

When one o'clock struck, a lad left, saying,
he was "going to get an inside lining' (dinner).
The sweep asked him what he was going to
have. "A two-and-half plate, and a ha'p'orth
of smash" (a plate of soup and a ha'p'orth of
mashed potatoes), replied the lad, bounding into
the court. Nobody else seemed to care for his
dinner, for all stayed to watch the gamblers.

Every now and then some one would go up
the court to see if the lad watching for the
police was keeping a good look-out; but the
boy never deserted his post, for fear of losing
his threepence. If he had, such is the wish to
protect the players felt by every lad, that even
whilst at dinner, one of them, if he saw a police-
man pass, would spring up and rush to the
gambling ring to give notice.

When the tall youth, "Ned," had won nearly
all the silver of the group, he suddenly jerked
his gains into his coat-pocket, and saying, "I've
done," walked off, and was out of sight in an
instant. The surprise of the loser and all
around was extreme. They looked at the court
where he had disappeared, then at one another,
and at last burst out into one expression of
disgust. "There's a scurf!" said one; "He's
a regular scab," cried another; and a coster
declared that he was "a trosseno, and no mis-
take." For although it is held to be fair for
the winner to go whenever he wishes, yet such
conduct is never relished by the losers.

It was then determined that "they would
have him to rights" the next time he came to
gamble; for every one would set at him, and
win his money, and then "turn up," as he had
done.

The party was then broken up, the players
separating to wait for the new-comers that would
be sure to pour in after dinner.