University of Virginia Library

6. THE GAMING CLUBS.

ON the subject of Clubs Mr Cunningham in his `Clubs of London,' and Mr Timbs in his `Club Life in London,' have said pretty well everything that we want to know, and by their help, and that of other writers, I shall endeavour to give an account of the gambling carried on in such places.

1. ALMACK'S.

`The gaming at Almack's,' writes Walpole to Horace Mann, `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 ten, fifteen, twenty thousand pounds in an evening there. Lord Stavordale, not one-and-

twenty, lost £11,000 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 here and in the House of Com-mons.'

Among the rules of the establishment, it was ordered `that every person playing at the twenty-guinea table do not keep less than twenty guineas before him,' and `that every person playing at the new guinea table do keep fifty guineas before him.' That the play ran high may be inferred from a note against the name of Mr Thynne, in the Club-books: — `Mr Thynne having won only 12,000 guineas during the last two months, retired in disgust, March 21st, 1772.' Indeed, the play was unusually high — for rouleaus of £50 each, and generally there was £10,000 in specie on the table. The gamesters began by pulling off their embroidered clothes, and putting on frieze great coats, or turned their coats inside out for luck! They put on pieces of leather (such as are worn by footmen when they clean knives) to save their laced ruffles; and to guard their eyes from the light, and to keep their hair in order, wore high-crowned straw hats with broad brims

adorned with flowers and ribbons; they also wore masks to conceal their emotions when they played at quinz.[35] Each gamester had a small neat stand by him, to hold his tea, or a wooden bowl with an edge of ormolu, to hold the rouleaus of guineas. [35] Quinze, the French for fifteen. This is a game at cards, in which the winner is he who counts fifteen, or nearest to that number, in all the points of his hand. Three, five, or six might play at it. Two entire packs of cards are used, so disposed that the spades and clubs are on one side, and the hearts and diamonds on the other. The entire art of the game consists in making fifteen; below that number the party loses.

2. THE COCOA-TREE CLUB.

This club was remarkable for high if not for foul play. Walpole, writing to Horace Mann in 1780, says: — `Within this week there has been a cast at Hazard at the Cocoa-tree (in St James's Street) the difference of which amounted to one hundred and fourscore thousand pounds! Mr O'Birne, an Irish gamester, had won one hundred thousand pounds of a young Mr Harvey of Chigwell, just started into an estate by his elder brother's death. O'Birne said, — "You can never pay me.'' "I can,'' said the youth, "my estate will sell for the debt.'' "No,'' said O'Birne, "I

will win ten thousand, — you shall throw for the odd ninety.'' They did, and Harvey won!'

3. GRAHAM'S CLUB.

This gaming club is remarkable for a scandal which made some noise at the time of its occurrence, and one version of which a writer in the Times has been at some pains to rectify. In Mr Duncombe's `Life' of his father occurs the following account of this curious transaction.

`In Graham's Club there was also a good deal of play, and large sums were lost and won among the noblemen and gentlemen who were its members. An unpleasant rumour circulated in town in the winter of 1836, to the effect that a noble lord had been detected in cheating by means of marked cards. The presumed offender was well known in society as a skilful card-player, but by those who had been most intimate with him was considered incapable of any unfair practice. He was abroad when the scandal was set afloat, but returned to England directly he heard of it, and having traced the accusation to its source, defied his traducers. Thus challenged, they had no alternative but to support their allegation, and it took this

shape: — They accused Henry William Lord de Ros of marking the edges of the court cards with his thumb-nail, as well as of performing a certain trick by which he unfairly secured an ace as the turn-up card. His accusers were — — — — , who had formerly kept a gaming table; Mr — — — — , also a professional gambler; Lord Henry Bentinck, and Mr F. Cumming. Lord Henry appears to have taken no very active part in the proceedings; the other three had lost money in play with Lord de Ros, and, as unsuccessful gamblers have done before and since, considered that they had lost it unfairly.

`Lord de Ros, instead of prosecuting the four for a libel, brought an action only against Cumming, which permitted the others to come forward as witnesses against him. The cause came on in the Court of King's Bench before Lord Denman. The plaintiff's witnesses were Lord Wharncliffe, Lord Robert Grosvenor, the Earl of Clare, and Sir Charles Dalbiac, who had known and played with him from between 20 to 30 years, as a very skilful but honourable Whist player. The evidence of Mr Lawrence, the eminent surgeon, proved that Lord de Ros had long suffered under a stiffness of the joints of the fingers that made holding a pack

of cards difficult, and the performance of the imputed trick of legerdemain impossible. For the defence appeared the keeper of the house and his son; two or three gamblers who had lived by their winnings; one acknowledged to have won £35,000 in 15 years. Mr Baring Wall, one of the witnesses, swore that he had never witnessed anything im-proper in the play of Lord de Ros, though he had played with and against him many years; another witness, the Hon. Colonel Anson, had observed nothing suspicious; but the testimony of others went to prove that the aces and kings had been marked inside their edges; and one averred that he had seen Lord de Ros perform sauter la coupe a hundred times. The whole case wore much the look of a combination among a little coterie who lived by gambling to drive from the field a player whose skill had diminished their income; nevertheless, the incidents sworn to by some of them wore a suspicious significance, and a verdict was given against Lord de Ros, which he only survived a short time.'

On this statement the Times' reviewer comments as follows: —

`If many old scandals may be revived with impunity, there are some that cannot. Mr Dun

combe the younger has hit on one which affects several gentlemen still living, and his injurious version of it cannot be neutralized or atoned for by an apology to one. We call attention to it in the hope that any more serious notice will be rendered needless by the simple exposure of its inaccuracies.

`It is difficult to conceive a more inexcusable misstatement, for the case was fully reported,[36] and the public judgment perfectly coincided with the verdict. Lord de Ros was not abroad when the scandal was set afloat. He went abroad after the scene at Graham's had set all London talking, and he returned in consequence of a peremptory call from his friends. He was most reluctantly induced to take the required steps for the vindication of his character; and it is preposterous to suppose that any little coterie would have dreamt of accusing a man of his rank and position with the view of driving a skilful player from the field. His accusers were not challenged. Neither were they volunteers. They became his accusers, because they formed the Whist party at which he was first openly denounced. They signed a paper

particularizing their charge, and offered to refer the question to a tribunal of gentlemen, with the Duke of Wellington or Lord Wharncliffe to preside. Would a little coterie, who lived by gambling, have made this offer? Or would Lord de Ros have refused it if he had been the intended victim of a conspiracy? Lord Henry Bentinck signed the paper, appeared as a witness, and took quite as active a part in the proceedings as any of the four, except Mr Cumming, who undertook the sole legal liability by admitting the publication of the paper. [36] The Times of February 11 and 13, 1837.

`The evidence was overwhelming. Suspicions had long been rife; and on no less than ten or twelve occasions the marked packs had been examined in the presence of unimpeachable wit-nesses, and sealed up. These packs were produced at the trial. Several witnesses swore to the trick called sauter la coupe. It was the late Sir William Ingilby who swore that he had seen Lord de Ros perform it from 50 to 100 times; and when asked why he did not at once denounce him, he replied that if he had done so before his Lordship began to get blown upon, he should have had no alternative between the window and the door. Of course, every one who had been in the habit of playing

with Lord de Ros prior to the exposure would have said the same as Sir Charles Dalbiac and Mr Baring Wall. With regard to the gentlemen whose names we have omitted we take it for granted that the author is not aware of the position they held, and continue to hold, or he would hardly have ventured to describe them so offensively. He has apologized to one, and he had better apologize to the other without delay.

`The case was complete without the evidence of either of the original accusers, and the few friends of Lord de Ros who tried to bear him up against the resulting obloquy were obliged to go with the stream. When Lord Alvanley was asked whether he meant to leave his card, he replied, "No, he will stick it in his chimney-piece and count it among his honours.' ''

Having read through the long case as reported in the Times, I must declare that I do not find that the evidence against Lord de Ros was, after all, so `overwhelming' as the reviewer declares; indeed, the `leader' in the Times on the trial emphatically raises a doubt on the subject. Among other passages in it there is the following: —

`In the process of the trial it appeared that the

most material part of the evidence against Lord de Ros, that called sauter la coupe, — which, for the sake of our English readers we shall translate into changing the turn-up card, — the times and places at which it was said to have been done could not be specified. Some of the witnesses had seen the trick done 50 or 100 times by Lord de Ros, but could neither say on what day, in what week, month, or even year, they had so seen it done. People were excessively struck at this deviation from the extreme punctuality required in criminal cases by the British courts of law.'

`The disclosures,' says Mr Grant,[27] `which took place in the Court of Queen's Bench, on the occasion of the trial of Lord de Ros, for cheating at cards, furnished the strongest demonstration that he was not the only person who was in the habit of cheating in certain clubs; while there were others who, if they could not be charged with direct cheating, or cheating in their own persons, did cheat indirectly, and by proxy, inasmuch as they, by their own admission, were, on frequent occasions, partners with Lord de Ros, long after they knew that he habitually or systematically

cheated. The noble lord, by the confession of the titled parties to whom I allude, thus cheated for himself and them at the same time.' [37] Sketches in London.

Lord de Ros was at the head of the barons of England. He was the son of Lord Henry Fitzgerald, and Lady de Ros, who inherited in her own right that ancient title, which dates from the reign of Henry III. He had studied at Eton and Oxford, and afterwards on the Continent, and there was not a more accomplished man in Europe. He possessed an ample fortune, was a member of several of the clubs — White's, Boodle's, Brookes', and Graham's, and one of the best Whist players in England.

It appears that at Graham's Club, at the commencement of the season, and before Lord de Ros came to town, whispers were circulated of unfair play, and various persons were supposed guilty. A determination was therefore formed that the club should be dissolved and reconstructed, leaving out the names of certain persons to whom suspicion attached. The main object of the master of the club, and of some of those who attended it for the purpose of professional gain, was that its character should be cleared. Not long after Lord de Ros

came to town he received an anonymous letter, cautioning him against continuing to play at Graham's, and intimating to him, if he did so, that measures would be taken which he would have reason to regret. Of course his Lordship disregarded the threat; he attended the club for several days more assiduously than before, and continued to play until the end of the season, in the begin-ning of July. In September the Satirist newspaper published a distinct charge of unfair play against Lord de Ros, whilst the latter was at Baden, and he returned to England and commenced an action for libel against the newspaper.

He was charged with being in the habit of marking the cards, the effect being to create a very slight and almost imperceptible indentation, and to make a ridge or wave on the back, so that a practised eye would be able, on looking at the right place, knowing where to expect a mark, to discern whether the ace was there or not. He was also charged with cheating by reversing the cut — that is, when the cards had come to him, after having been cut by his adversary, instead of putting the bottom card at the top, keeping the bottom card at the bottom, by some shuffling contrivance when he

dealt. Another witness said: —

`When he took up the two parcels of cards, after the operation of cutting the pack by his right-hand adversary, he was always attacked with a hacking cough, or what I may properly denominate, especially from the result it produced, a `king cough,' because a king or an ace was invariably its effect. The cough always came on at the most convenient moment to distract the attention of the other players, and was evidently indulged in for the purpose of abstracting their attention from the table and from the manœuvre he was about to perform. However, I never saw him "slip the card,'' and I never had cognizance of its execution, but certain it was that the ace or the king, which was at the bottom of the pack prior to the cut, invariably found its way to the same position after the cut, and hence was the turn-up card. With regard to the operation of dealing, his Lordship delivered the cards particularly slow, examining every card minutely towards its corners, as if looking for some mark.'

Many curious facts came out during the trial.

It was Mr Brooke Greville who admitted that he was a considerable winner at play — having `no

hesitation in saying that he had won £35,000 in the course of 15 years,' chiefly at Whist; that he had followed play as an occupation, at Graham's Club. He lost, however, £14,000 at Brighton in 1828, a considerable portion of it to Lord de Ros; but this loss he made up in three or four years (that is, won £14,000 in that time), and, excepting that reverse, he was generally fortunate at play.'

A Captain J. Alexander, half-pay R. N., declared that he had won as much as £700 at a time, having, however, to pay half to another partner; his winnings might be £1600 a-year. `I began to play,' he said, `about 25 or 28 years ago, and, expecting that I should be asked the question, I have looked into my accounts, and find that I am about £10,000 better than as though I had not played. That is a yearly average of £500.' He had, however, lost about £1000 during the previous year.

This Captain Alexander was asked how many hours he played before dinner, and he answered — `From three to five hours' — adding, however, that `he had played all night.' Then the counsel said, `I suppose you take but a slight dinner?' He replied: —

`Why, I generally make as good a dinner as I can get.' The learned counsel continued: —

`A small boiled chicken and a glass of lemonade, perhaps?' This seemed an offensive question, and the captain said, —

`I believe never, and (with increased earnestness of manner) mind, I deny the lemonade altogether; I never take lemonade. (Laughter, in which the noble lords on the bench joined involuntarily.)

Sir W. Ingilby entered into a description and practical illustration of the trick of sauter la coupe with a pack of cards, and it is said that the performance of the honourable baronet elicited demonstrations of laughter, which the judge suppressed, and even reprobated. Altogether, it must have been a most interesting and exciting trial.

As before stated, Lord Denman was the presiding judge; there was a special jury; the attorney-general, Sir W. Follet, and Mr Wightman appeared for the noble plaintiff; and the keen-witted and exquisitely polished Mr Thesiger (now Lord Chol-mondeley), Mr Alexander, and Mr W. H. Watson for the defendant. A great many of the nobility were present, together with several foreigners of distinction.

4. BROOKES' CLUB, IN ST JAMES'S STREET.

This was a house notorious for very high gaming, and was frequented by the most desperate of gamblers, among the rest Fox, Brummell, and Alderman Combe. According to Captain Gronow: —

At Brookes's, for nearly half a century, the play was of a more gambling character than at White's. . . . On one occasion Lord Robert Spencer contrived to lose the last shilling of his considerable fortune given him by his brother, the Duke of Marlborough. General Fitzpatrick being much in the same condition, they agreed to raise a sum of money, in order that they might keep a Faro bank. The members of the club made no objection, and ere long they carried out their design. As is generally the case, the bank was a winner, and Lord Robert bagged, as his share of the proceeds, £100,000. He retired, strange to say, from the fetid atmosphere of play, with the money in his pocket, and never again gambled. The lowest stake at Brookes' was £50; and it was a common event for a gentleman to lose or win £10,000 in an

evening. Sometimes a whole fortune was lost at a single sitting.[38] [38] Walpole, passim.

5. WHITE'S CLUB.

White's Club seems to have won the darkest reputation for gambling. Lord Lyttleton, writing to Dr Doddridge, in 1750, says: — `The Dryads of Hogley are at present pretty secure, but I tremble to think that the rattling of a dice-box at White's may one day or other (if my son should be a member of that noble academy) shake down all our fine oaks. It is dreadful to see, not only there, but almost in every house in the town, what devastations are made by that destructive fury, the spirit of play.' A fact stated by Walpole to Horace Mann shows the character of the company at this establishment: — `There is a man about town, Sir William Burdett, a man of very good family, but most infamous character. In short, to give you his character at once — there is a wager 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.' Swift says: — `I have heard that the

late Earl of Oxford, in the time of his ministry, never passed by White's chocolate-house (the common rendezvous of infamous sharpers and noble cullies) without bestowing a curse upon that famous academy as the bane of half the English nobility.'

It was from the beginning a gaming club, `pure and simple.' The play was mostly at Hazard and Faro. No member was to hold a Faro bank. Whist was comparatively harmless. Professional gamblers, who lived by dice and cards, provided they were free from the imputation of cheating, procured admission to White's. It was a great supper-house, and there was play before and after supper, carried on to a late hour and to heavy amounts.

At White's they betted on every possible thing, as shown by the betting-book of the establishment — on births, deaths, and marriages; the length of a life; the duration of a ministry; a placeman's prospect of a coronet; the last scandal at Ranelagh or Madame Cornely's; or the shock of an earthquake! `A man dropped down at the door of White's; he was carried into the house. Was he dead or not? The odds were immediately given

and taken for and against. It was proposed to bleed him. Those who had taken the odds that the man was dead protested that the use of a lancet would affect the fairness of the bet.' I have met with a similar anecdote elsewhere. A waiter in a tavern in Westminster, being engaged in attendance on some young men of distinction, suddenly fell down in a fit. Bets were immediately proposed by some of the most thoughtless on his recovery, and accepted by others. The more humane part of the company were for sending immediately for medical assistance, but this was overruled; since, by the tenor of the bets, he was to be `left to himself,' and he died accordingly!

According to Walpole — `A person coming into the club on the morning of the earthquake, in 1750, and hearing bets laid whether the shock was caused by an earthquake or the blowing up of powder-mills, went away in horror, protesting they were such an impious set that he believed if the last trump were to sound they would bet puppet-show against Judgment.'

And again: `One of the youths at White's, in 1744, has committed a murder, and intends to repeat it. He betted £1500 that a man could live

twelve hours under water; hired a desperate fellow, sunk him in a ship, by way of experiment, and both ship and man have not appeared since. Another man and ship are to be tried for their lives instead of Mr Blake, the assassin.'

He also tells us of a very curious entry in the betting-book. Lord Mountford bets Sir John Bland twenty guineas that Nash outlives Cibber.' `How odd,' says Walpole, `that these two old creatures, selected for their antiquities, should live to see both their wagerers put an end to their own lives! Cibber is within a few days of eighty-four, still hearty, and clear, and well. I told him I was glad to see him look so well. "Faith,'' said he, "it is very well that I look at all.'' Lord Mountford would have been the winner: Cibber died in 1757, Nash in 1761.'

Hogarth's scene at the gambling house is taken at White's. `We see the highwayman, with his pistols peeping out of his pocket, waiting by the fireside till the heaviest winner takes his departure, in order to "recoup'' himself for his losings; and in the Beaux' Stratagem, Aimwell asks of Gibbet — "Ha'n't I seen your face at White's?'' "Ay, and at Will's too,'' is the highwayman's answer.'

According to Captain Gronow, George Harley Drummond, of the famous banking-house, Charing Cross, only played once in his whole life at White's Club, at Whist, on which occasion he lost £20,000 to Brummell. This even caused him to retire from the banking-house, of which he was a partner.

`Walpole and a party of friends (Dick Edgecumbe, George Selwyn, and Williams), in 1756, composed a piece of heraldic satire — a coat of arms for the two gaming clubs at White's — which was "actually engraven from a very pretty painting of Edgecumbe, whom Mr Chute, as Strawberry King at Arms,'' appointed their chief herald-painter. The blazon is vert (for a card-table); three parolis proper on a chevron sable (for a Hazard table); two rouleaux in saltire between two dice proper, on a canton sable; a white ball (for election) argent. The supporters are an old and young knave of clubs; the crest, an arm out of an earl's coronet shaking a dice-box; and the motto, Cogit amor nummi — "The love of money compels.'' Round the arms is a claret-bottle ticket by way of order.'

6. WATTIER'S CLUB.

This great Macao gaming house was of short

duration. Mr Raikes says of it: — `The club did not endure for twelve years altogether; the pace was too quick to last; it died a natural death in 1819, from the paralyzed state of its members. The house was then taken by a set of blacklegs, who instituted a common bank of gambling. To form an idea of the ruin produced by this short-lived establishment among men whom I have so intimately known, a cursory glance to the past suggests the following melancholy list, which only forms a part of its deplorable results: none of the dead reached the average age of man.' Among the members were Beau Brummell and the madman Bligh.

7. CROCKFORD'S CLUB.

This once celebrated gaming house is now `The Wellington,' where the rattle of knives and forks has succeeded that of dice. It was erected in 1827, and at its opening it was described as `the new Pandemonium — the drawing-rooms, or real hell, consisting of four chambers: the first an ante-room, opening to a saloon embellished to a degree which baffles description; thence to a small curiously-formed cabinet or boudoir, which opens to the

supper-room. All these rooms are panelled in the most gorgeous manner; spaces are left to be filled up with mirrors and silk, or gold enrichments; while the ceilings are as superb as the walls. A billiard-room on the upper floor com-pletes the number of apartments professedly dedicated to the use of the members. Whenever any secret manœuvre is to be carried on, there are smaller and more retired places, both under this roof and the next, whose walls will tell no tales.'

`It rose,' says a writer in the Edinburgh Review, `like a creation of Aladdin's lamp; and the genii themselves could hardly have surpassed the beauty of the internal decorations, or furnished a more accomplished maître d'hôtel than Ude. To make the company as select as possible, the estab-lishment was regularly organized as a club, and the election of members vested in a committee. "Crockford's'' became the rage, and the votaries of fashion, whether they like play or not, hastened to enroll themselves. The Duke of Wellington was an original member, though (unlike Blucher, who repeatedly lost everything he had at play) the great captain was never known to play deep at any game but war or politics. Card-tables were regularly

placed, and Whist was played occasionally; but the aim, end, and final cause of the whole was the Hazard bank, at which the proprietor took his nightly stand, prepared for all comers. Le Wellington des Joueurs lost £23,000 at a sitting, beginning at twelve at night, and ending at seven the following evening. He and three other noblemen could not have lost less, sooner or later, than £100,000 a piece.[39] Others lost in proportion (or out of proportion) to their means; but we leave it to less occupied moralists and better calculators to say how many ruined families went to make Mr Crockford a millionnaire — for a millionnaire he was in the English sense of the term, after making the largest possible allowance for bad debts. A vast sum, perhaps half a million, was sometimes due to him; but as he won, all his debtors were able to raise, and easy credit was the most fatal of his lures. He retired in 1840, much as an Indian chief retires from a hunting country when there is not game enough left for his tribe, and the club tottered to its fall.' [39] `Le Wellington des Joueurs was the name given to Lord Rivers in Paris. The other three, we believe, were Lord Sefton, Lord Chesterfield, and Lord Granville or Lord Talbot.' Times, 7 Jan. 1868.

Crockford was originally a fishmonger, keeping a shop near Temple Bar. By embarking in this speculation he laid the foundation of the most colossal fortune that was ever made by play.

It was said there were persons of rank and station, who had never paid their debts to Crockford, up to 1844, and that some of his creditors compounded with him for their gambling debts. His proprietorship had lasted 15 or 16 years.

Crockford himself was examined by the committee of the House of Commons on the Gaming Houses; but in spite of his assurance by the members that were indemnified witnesses in respect of pending actions, he resolutely declined to `tell the secrets of his prison-house.' When asked whether a good deal of play was carried on at his club, he said: — `There may have been so; but I do not feel myself at liberty to answer that question — to divulge the pursuits of private gentlemen. Situated as I was, I do not feel myself at liberty to do so. I do not feel myself at liberty to answer that question.'

When asked to whom he had given up the house, he fenced in like manner, saying that he had given it up to a `committee' of about 200 gentlemen, — concerning which committee he pro

fessed to `know absolutely nothing' — he could not even say to whom he had given up the house — he gave it up to the gentlemen of the club four years before — he could not even say (upon his word) whether he signed any paper in giving it up — he believed he did not — adding — `I said I grew too old, and I could not continue in the club any longer, and I wished to give up the club to the gentlemen, who made their own arrangement.'

Being asked, `Do you think that a person is just as honourably bound to pay a debt which he loses upon a game of Hazard, as he would be to pay a bet which he loses on a horse-race?' Crockford replied — `I think most certainly he would honourably be bound to pay it.' — `Do you think that if the loser of a bet on a game at Hazard had no charge to make of any kind of unfairness, and he were to commence an action to recover that money back again, he would lay himself open to a charge in the world of having acted dishonourably?' The old gambler's reply was most emphatic, overwhelming, indignant — `I should take all the pains I could to avoid such a man.'

If this evidence was not satisfactory, it was, at any rate, very characteristic.

A few interesting facts came out before the par

liamentary committee on Gaming, in 1844, respecting Crockford's.

It was said that Crockford gave up the business in 1840, because there were no more very high players visiting his house.

`A number of persons,' according to the admission of the Honourable Frederick Byng, `who were born to very large properties, were very nearly ruined at Crockford's.'

The sums won on the turf were certainly larger than those won by players at Crockford's; a man might lose £20,000 in one or more bets, to one or more persons; but against this he might have won an equivalent amount in small sums from 200 or more persons.[40] [40] This is not very clearly put, but the meaning is that much more money was lost at Crockford's than on the turf.

Some years previously to Crockford's retirement, it is said that he found the debts so bad that he was obliged to leave off his custom of paying cheques; and said he would cancel all previous debts, but that in future gentlemen would have to pay with money. He made them play for money instead of with counters, in consequence of the large sums that were owing to him upon those counters.

8. THE TRAVELLERS' CLUB,

next the Athenseum in Pall Mall, originated soon after the peace of 1814, in a suggestion of the late Lord Londonderry, then Lord Castlereagh, for the resort of gentlemen who had resided or travelled abroad, as well as with a view to the accommodation of foreigners, who, when properly recommended, receive an invitation for the period of their stay.[41] Here Prince Talleyrand was fond of a game at Whist. With all the advantage of his great imperturbability of face, he is said to have been an indifferent player. [41] Quarterly Review, No. cx. p. 481.

Rule 10 of the club directs, `that no dice and no game of hazard be allowed in the rooms of the club, nor any higher stake than guinea points, and that no cards be introduced before dinner.'