University of Virginia Library

PENSIONED OFF BY A GAMING HOUSE.

A visitor at Frascati's gaming house in Paris tells us: —

`I saw the Chevalier de la C — (a descendant of the once celebrated romance-writer) when he was nearly ninety. The mode of life of this old man was singular. He had lost a princely property at the play-table, and by a piece of good fortune of rare occurrence to gamesters, and unparalleled generosity, the proprietors of the salon allowed him a pension to support him in his miserable senility, just sufficient to supply him with a wretched lodging — bread, and a change of raiment once in every three or four years! In addition to this he was allowed a supper — which was, in fact,

his dinner — at the gaming house, whither he went every night at about eleven o'clock. Till supper-time (two o'clock in the morning) he amused himself in watching the games and calculating the various chances, although incapable of playing a single coup. At four o'clock he returned to his lodging, retired to bed, and lay till between nine and ten o'clock on the following night. A cup of coffee was then brought to him, and, having dressed himself, at the usual hour he again proceeded to the salon. This had been his round of life for several years; and he told me that during all that time (excepting on a few mornings about Midsummer) he had never beheld the sun!'

A Mr R — y, son of a baronet, left Wattier's club one night with only £4 in his pocket, saying that he would look in at the hells. He did so, and, returning after three o'clock in the morning, offered to bet £500 that he had above £4000. The result proved that he had £4300, all won at gaming tables, from the small beginning of £4. He then sat down to play games of skill at Wattier's, and went home at six o'clock without a single pound! The same man subsequently won

£30,000, and afterwards lost it all, with £15,000 more, and then `went to the Continent.'

A major of the Rifle Brigade, in consequence of gambling in London, by which he lost vast sums of money, went out of his senses and died a few years ago in an asylum. This occurred within the last ten or twelve years.

Says Mr Seymour Harcourt, in his `Gaming Calendar,' `I have myself seen hanging in chains a man whom, a short time before, I saw at a Hazard table!'

Hogarth lent his tremendous power to the portrayal of the ruined gamester, and shows it to the life in his print of the gaming house in the `Rake's Progress.'

Three stages of that species of madness which attends gaming are there described. On the first shock all is inward dismay. The ruined gamester is represented leaning against a wall with his arms across, lost in an agony of horror. Shortly after this horrible gloom bursts into a storm and fury. He tears in pieces whatever comes near him, and, kneeling down, invokes curses on himself. His next attack is on others — on every one whom he imagines to have been instrumental in his ruin. The eager joy of the winning gamester, the atten

tion of the usurer, and the profound reverie of the highwayman, are all strongly marked in this wonderful picture.