University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.
REMARKABLE GAMESTERS. MONSIEUR CHEVALIER.

MONSIEUR CHEVALIER, Captain of the Grenadiers in the first regiment of Foot Guards, in the time of Charles II. of England, was a native of Normandy. In his younger days he was page to the Duchess of Orleans; but growing too big for that service, he came to England to seek his fortune, and by some good luck and favour became an ensign in the first regiment of Foot Guards. His pay, however, being insufficient to maintain him, he felt compelled to become a gamester, or rather to resort to a practice in which doubtless he had been early initiated at the Court of France; and he managed so well that he was soon enabled to keep up an equipage much above his station.

Among the `bubbles' who had the misfortune to fall into Chevalier's hands, was a certain nobleman, who lost a larger sum to him than he could conveniently pay down, and asked for time, to which Chevalier assented, and in terms so courteous and obliging that the former, a fortnight after, in order to let him see that he remembered his civility, came one morning and told Chevalier that he had a company of Foot to dispose of, and if it was worth his while, it should be at his service. Nothing could be more acceptable to Chevalier, who at once closed for the bargain, and got his commission signed the same day. Besides the fact that it was a time of peace, Chevalier knew well that the military title of Captain was a very good cloak to shelter under. He knew that a man of no employment or any visible income, who appears and lives like a gentleman, and makes gaming his constant business, is always suspected of not playing for diversion only; and, in short, of knowing and practising more than he should do.

Chevalier once won 20 guineas from mad Ogle, the Life-guardsman, who, understanding that the former had bit him, called him to account, demanding either his money back, or satisfaction in the

field. Chevalier, having always courage enough to maintain what he did, chose the latter. Ogle fought him in Hyde Park, and wounded him through the sword arm, and got back his money. After this they were always good friends, playing several comical tricks, one of which is as follows, strikingly illustrating the manners of the times.

Chevalier and Ogle meeting one day in Fleet Street jostled for the wall, which they strove to take of each other, whereupon words arising between them, they drew swords, and pushed very hard at one another; but were prevented, by the great crowd which gathered about them, from doing any mischief. Ogle, seeming still to resent the affront, cried to Chevalier, `If you are a gentleman, pray follow me.' The French hero accepted the challenge; so going together up Bell Yard and through Lincoln's Inn, with some hundreds of the mob at their heels, as soon as the seeming adversaries were got into Lincoln's Inn Fields, they both fell a running as fast as they could, with their swords drawn, up towards Lord Powis's house, which was then building, and leaped into a saw-pit. The rabble presently ran after them, to part them again, and

feared mischief would be done before they could get up to them, but when they arrived at the saw-pit, they saw Chevalier at one side of it and Ogle at the other, sitting together as lovingly as if they had never fallen out at all. And then the mob was so incensed at this trick put upon them, that had not some gentlemen accidentally come by, they would have knocked them both on the head with brickbats.

Chevalier had an excellent knack at cogging a die, and such command in the throwing, that, chalking a circle on a table, with its circumference no bigger than a shilling, he would, at above the distance of one foot, throw a die exactly into it, which should be either ace, deuce, trey, or what he pleased.

Aubrey de Vere, Earl of Oxford, was a great gambler of the time, and often practised dice-throwing in his shirt during the morning until he fancied himself in luck, when he would proceed to try his fortune with Chevalier; but the dexterity of the latter always convinced the earl that no certainty lies on the good success which may be fancied as likely to result from play in jest. Chevalier won a great deal of money from that peer, `who lost most

of his estate at gaming before he died, and which ought to be a warning to all noblemen.'

Chevalier was a skilful sharper, and thoroughly up in the art and mystery of loading dice with quicksilver; but having been sometimes detected in his sharping tricks, he was obliged `to look on the point of the sword, with which being often wounded, latterly he declined fighting, if there were any way of escape.' Having once `choused,' or cheated, a Mr Levingstone, page of honour to King James II., out of 50 guineas, the latter gave the captain a challenge to fight him next day behind Montague House — a locality long used for the purpose of duelling. Chevalier seemingly accepted the challenge, and next morning, Levingstone going to Chevalier's lodging, whom he found in bed, put him in mind of what he was come about. Chevalier, with the greatest air of courage imaginable, rose, and having dressed himself, said to Levingstone — `Me must beg de favour of you to stay a few minutes, sir, while I step into my closet dere, for as me be going about one desperate piece of work, it is very requisite for me to say a small prayer or two.' Accordingly Mr Levingstone consented to wait whilst Chevalier re

tired to his closet to pray; but hearing the conclusion of his prayer to end with these words — `Me verily believe spilling man's blood is one ver' great sin, wherefore I hope all de saints will interced vid de Virgin for my once killing Monsieur de Blotiéres at Rochelle, — my killing Chevalier de Cominge at Brest, — killing Major de Tierceville at Lyons, — killing Lieutenant du Marche Falliere at Paris, with half a dozen other men in France; so, being also sure of killing him I'm now going to fight, me hope his forcing me to shed his blood will not be laid to my charge;' — quoth Levingstone to himself — `And are you then so sure of me? But I'll engage you shan't — for if you are such a devil at killing men, you shall go and fight yourself and be — — .' Whereupon he made what haste he could away, and shortly Chevalier coming out of the closet and finding Levingstone not in the room, was very glad of his absence.'

Some time after, Chevalier was called to account by another gentleman. They met at the appointed hour in Chelsea Fields, when Chevalier said to his adversary — `Pray, sir, for what do we fight?' The gentleman replied — `For honour and reputation.' Thereupon Chevalier pulling a halter out of his

pocket, and throwing it between him and his antagonist, exclaimed — `Begar, sir, we only fight for dis one piece of rope — so e'en *win it and wear it.' The effect of this jest was so great on his adversary that swords were put up, and they went home together good friends.

Chevalier continued his sharping courses for about fourteen years, running a reckless race, `sometimes with much money, sometimes with little, but always as lavish in spending as he was covetous in getting it; until at last King James ascending the throne, the Duke of Monmouth raised a rebellion in the West of England, where, in a skirmish between the Royalists and Rebels, he was shot in the back, and the wound thought to be given by one of his own men, to whom he had always been a most cruel, harsh officer, whilst a captain of the Grenadiers of the Foot Guards. He was sensible himself how he came by this misfortune; for when he was carried to his tent mortally wounded, and the Duke of Albemarle came to visit him, he said to his Grace — `Dis was none of my foe dat shot me in the back.' `He was none of your friend that shot you,' the duke replied.

So dying within a few hours after, he was interred in a field near Philip Norton Lane, as the old chronicler says — `much *unlamented by all who knew him.'[138]

JOHN HIGDEN.

This gambler, who flourished towards the end of the 17th century, was descended from a very good family in the West of England. In his younger days he was a member of the Honourable Society of the Middle Temple, but his inclinations being incompatible with close study of the law, he soon quitted the inns of court and went into the army. He obtained not only a commission in the first regiment of Boot Guards, but a commission of the peace for the county of Middlesex, in which he continued for three or four years as Justice Higden. He was very great at dice; and one night he and another of his fraternity going to a gaming house, Higden drew a chair and sat down, but as often as the box came to him he passed it, and remained only as a spectator; but at last one of the players said to him pertly, `Sir, if you won't play, what do you sit there for?'

Upon which Higden snatched up the dice-box and said, `Set me what you will and I'll throw at it.' One of the gentlemen set him two guineas, which he won, and then set him four, which he `nicked' also. The rest of the gentlemen took the part of the loser, and set to Higden, who, by some art and some good luck, won 120 guineas; and presently, after throwing out, rose from the table and went to his companion by the fireside, who asked him how he durst be so audacious as to play, knowing he had not a shilling in his pocket? One of the losers overhearing what was said, exclaimed, `How's that — you had no money when you began to play?' `That's no matter,' replied Higden, `I have enough *now; and if you had won of me, you must have been contented to have kicked, buffeted, or pumped me, and you would have done it as long as you liked. Besides, sir, I am a soldier, and have often faced the mouths of thundering cannons for *eight shillings a day, and do you think I would not hazard the tossing of a blanket for the money I have won to-night?'

`All the parties wondered at his confidence, but he laughed heartily at their folly and his good fortune, and so marched off with a light

heart and a heavy purse.' Afterwards, `to make himself as miserable as he could, he turned poet, went to Ireland, published a play or two, and shortly after he died very poor, in 1703.'[139]

MONSIEUR GERMAIN.

This gambler was of low birth, his parents keeping an ordinary in Holland, where he was born, as stated by the old chronicler, `in the happy Revolution of 1688.'

His career is remarkable on account of his connection with Lady Mary Mordaunt, wife of `the Duke of Norfolk, who, proving her guilty of adultery, was divorced from her. She then lived publicly with Germain.'

This Germain was the first to introduce what was called the Spanish Whist, stated to be `a mere bite, performed after this manner: — Having a pack of cards, the four treys are privately laid on the top of them, under them an ace, and next to that a deuce; then, letting your adversary cut the cards, you do not pack them, but deal all of them that are cut off, one at a time, between you; then, taking up the other parcel of cards, you deal

more cards, giving yourself two treys and a deuce, and to the other persons two treys and an ace, when, laying the remainder of the cards down — wherein are allowed no trumps, but only the highest cards win — so they are but of the same suit, whilst you are playing, giving your antagonist all you can, as though it is not in your power to prevent him. You seem to fret, and cry you have good put-cards; he, having two treys and an ace, will be apt to lay a wager with you that you cannot have better than he; then you binding the wager, he soon sees his mistake. But in this trick you must observe to put the other three deuces under yours when you deal.'

It seems that this Monsieur Germain is not only remarkable for the above precious addition to human knowledge, but also on account of his expertness at the game of Ombre, celebrated and so elegantly described by Pope in his `Rape of the Lock.'

He appears to have lived with the Duchess of Norfolk ever after the divorce; and he died a little after Lady Mary, in 1712, aged 46 years.

TOM HUGHES.

This Irishman was born in Dublin, and was the son of a respectable tradesman. Falling into dissipated company, he soon left the city to try his fortune in London, where he played very deep and very successfully.

He threw away his gains as fast as he made them, chiefly among the frail sisterhood, at a notorious house in those days, in the Piazza, Covent Garden. He frequented Carlisle House in Soho Square, and was a proprietor of E O tables kept by a Dr Graham in Pall Mall.

He had a rencontre, in consequence of a dispute at play, and was wounded. The meeting took place under the Piazza, and his antagonist's sword struck a rib, which counteracted its dangerous effect.

Soon afterwards he won £3000 from a young man just of age, who made over to him a landed estate for the amount, and he was shortly after admitted a member of the Jockey Club.

His fortune now changed, and falling into the hands of Old Pope, the money-lender, he was not long before he had to transfer his estate to him.

After many ups and downs he became an inmate of the spunging-house of the infamous Scoldwell, who was afterwards transported. He actually used his prison as a gaming house, to which his infatuated friends resorted; but his means failed, his friends cooled, and he was removed `over the water,' from which he was only released by the Insolvent Act, with a broken constitution. Arrest soon restored him to his old habitation, a lock-up house, where he died so poor, a victim to grief, misery, and disease, that he did not leave enough to pay for a coffin, which was procured by his quondam friend, Mr Thornton, at whose cost he was buried. Perhaps more than half a million of money had `passed through his hands.' ANDREWS, THE GREAT BILLIARD-PLAYER.

Andrews was reckoned so theoretically and practically perfect at the game of Billiards that he had no equal except Abraham Carter, who kept the tables at the corner of the Piazza, Russell Street, Covent Garden.

He one night won of Colonel W — — e about a thousand pounds; and the Colonel appointed to meet him next day to transact for stock accord

ingly. Going in a hackney-coach to the Bank of England for this purpose, they tossed up who should pay for the coach. Andrews lost — and positively on this small beginning he was excited to continue betting, until he lost the whole sum he had won the night before! When the coachman stopped he was ordered to drive them back again, as they had no occasion to get out!

Thus, in a few years, Hazard and other games of chance stripped him of his immense winnings at Billiards, and he had nothing left but a small annuity, fortunately for him so settled that he could not dispose of it — though he made every effort to do so!

He afterwards retired in the county of Kent, and was heard to declare that he never knew contentment when wallowing in riches; but that since he was compelled to live on a scanty pittance, he was one of the happiest men in the world. WHIG MIDDLETON.

Whig Middleton was a tall, handsome, fashionable man, with an adequate fortune. He one night had a run of ill-luck at Arthur's, and lost about a thousand guineas. Lord Montford, in the gaming

phrase, asked him what he would do or what he would not do, to get home? `My lord,' said he, `prescribe your own terms.'

`Then,' resumed Lord Montford, `dress directly opposite to the fashion for ten years. Will you agree to it?' Middleton said that he would, and kept his word. Nay, he died nine years afterwards so unfashionably that he did not owe a tradesman a farthing — left some playing debts unliquidated, and his coat and wig were of the cut of Queen Anne's reign.

Lord Montford is said to have died in a very different but quite fashionable manner. CAPTAIN CAMPBELL.

Captain Campbell, of the Guards, was a natural son of the Duke of — — . He lost a thousand guineas to a Shark, which he could not pay. Being questioned by the duke one day at dinner as to the cause of his dejection, he reluctantly confessed the fact. `Sir,' said his Grace, `you do not owe a farthing to the blackguard. My steward settled with him this morning for *ten guineas, and he was glad to take them, only saying — “I was damned far North, and it was well it was no worse.&” '

WROTHESLY, DUKE OF BEDFORD.

Wrothesly, Duke of Bedford, was the subject of a conspiracy at Bath, formed by several first-rate sharpers, among whom were the manager of a theatre, and Beau Nash, master of the ceremonies. After being plundered of above £70,000 at Hazard, his Grace rose in a passion, put the dice in his pocket, and intimated his resolution to inspect them. He then retired into another room, and, flinging himself upon a sofa, fell asleep.

The winners, to escape disgrace, and obtain their money, cast lots who should pick his pockets of the loaded dice, and introduce fair ones in their place. The lot fell on the manager of the theatre, who performed his part without discovery. The duke inspected the dice when he awoke, and finding them correct, renewed his party, and lost £30,000 more.

The conspirators had received £5000, but disagreed on its division, and Beau Nash, thinking himself ill-used, divulged the fact to his Grace, who saved thereby the remainder of the money. He made Nash a handsome present, and ever after gave him his countenance, supposing that the secret had been divulged through pure friendship.

THE DUKE OF NORFOLK.

A similar anecdote is told of another gamester. `The late Duke of Norfolk,' says the author of `Rouge et Noir,' writing in 1823, `in one evening lost the sum of £70,000 in a gaming house on the right side of St James's Street: suspecting foul play, he put the dice in his pocket, and, as was his custom when up late, took a bed in the house. The blacklegs were all dismayed, till one of the worthies, who is believed to have been a principal in poisoning the horses at Newmarket, for which Dan Dawson was hanged, offered for £5000 to go to the duke's room with a brace of pistols and a pair of dice, and, if the duke was awake, to shoot him, if asleep to change the dice! Fortunately for the gang, the duke “snored,&” as the agent stated, “like a pig;&” the dice were changed. His Grace had them broken in the morning, when, finding them good, he paid the money, and left off gambling.'[141]

GENERAL OGLE: A BOLD STROKE.

A few weeks before General Ogle was to sail for

India, he constantly attended Paine's, in Charles Street, St James's Square. One evening there were before him two wooden bowls full of gold, which held £1500 guineas each, and £4000 in rou-leaus, which he had won.

When the box came to him, he shook the dice and with great coolness and pleasantry said — `Come, I'll either win or lose seven thousand upon this hand. Will any gentleman set on the whole? *Seven is the main.' Then rattling the dice once more, cast the box from him and quitted it, the dice remaining uncovered.

Although the General did not think this too large a sum for one man to risk at a single throw, the rest of the gentlemen did, and for some time the bold gamester remained unset.

He then said — `Well, gentlemen, will you make it up amongst you?'

One set him 500 guineas, another 500. `Come,' said he, `whilst you are making up the money I'll tell you a story.' Here he began — but perceiving that he was at last completely set for the cast, stopt short — laid his hand on the box, saying — `I believe I am completely set, gentlemen?' `Yes, sir, and Seven is the main,' was the reply. The General

threw out, and lost! Seven thousand guineas!

Then with astonishing coolness he took up his snuff-box and smiling exclaimed — `Now, gentlemen, if you please, I'll finish my story.' HORACE WALPOLE.

There can be no doubt that Horace Walpole was an inveterate gambler, although he managed to keep always afloat and merrily sailing — for he says himself: — `A good lady last year was delighted at my becoming peer, and said — “I hope you will get an Act of Parliament for putting down Faro.&” As if I could make Acts of Parliament! and could I, it would be very consistent too in me, who for some years played more at Faro than anybody.'[142]

THE EARL OF MARCH.

This extraordinary and still famous personage, better known as the Duke of Queensberry, was the `observed of all observers' almost from his boyhood to extreme old age. His passions were for women and the turf; and the sensual devotedness with which he pursued the one, and the eccentricity which he displayed in the enjoyment of

both, added to the observation which he attracted from his position as a man of high rank and princely fortune, rendered him an object of unceasing curiosity. He was deeply versed in the mysteries of the turf, and in all practical and theoretical knowledge connected with the race-course was acknowledged to be the most accomplished adept of his own time. He seems also to have been a skilful gamester and player of billiards. Writing to George Selwyn from Paris in 1763, he says: — `I won the first day about £2000, of which I brought off about £1500. All things are exaggerated, I am supposed to have won at least twice as much.' In 1765 he is said to have won two thousand louis of a German at billiards. Writing to Selwyn, Gilly Williams says of him: `I did not know he was more an adept at that game than you are at any other, but I think you are both said to be losers on the whole, at least Betty says that her letters mention you as pillaged.'

Among the numerous occasions on which the name of the Duke of Queensberry came before the public in connection with sporting matters, may be mentioned the circumstance of the following curious trial, which took place before Lord Mans

field in the Court of King's Bench, in 1771. The Duke of Queensberry, then Lord March, was the plaintiff, and a Mr Pigot the defendant. The object of this trial was to recover the sum of five hundred guineas, being the amount of a wager laid by the duke With Mr Pigot — whether Sir William Codrington or *old Mr Pigot should die first. It had singularly happened that Mr Pigot died suddenly the *same morning, of the gout in his head, but before either of the parties interested in the result of the wager could by any possibility have been made acquainted with the fact. In the contemporary accounts of the trial, the Duke of Queensberry is mentioned as having been accom-modated with a seat on the bench; while Lord Ossory, and several other noblemen, were examined on the merits of the case. By the counsel for the defendant it was argued that (as in the case of a horse dying before the day on which he was to be run) the wager was invalid and annulled. Lord Mansfield, however, was of a different opinion; and after a brief charge from that great lawyer, the jury brought in a verdict for the plaintiff for five hundred guineas, and he sentenced the defendant to defray the costs of the suit.[143]

This prince of debauchees seems to have surpassed every model of the kind, ancient or modern. In his prime he reproduced in his own drawing-room the scene of Paris and the Goddesses, exactly as we see it in classic pictures, three of the most beautiful women of London representing the divinities as they appeared to Paris on Mount Ida, while he himself, dressed as the Dardan shepherd holding a *gilded apple (it should have been really golden) in his hand, conferred the prize on her whom he deemed the fairest. In his decrepit old age it was his custom, in fine sunny weather, to seat himself in his balcony in Piccadilly, where his figure was familiar to every person who was in the habit of passing through that great thoroughfare. Here (his emaciated figure rendered the more conspicuous from his custom of holding a parasol over his head) he was in the habit of watching every attractive female form, and ogling every pretty face that met his eye. He is said, indeed, to have kept a pony and a servant in constant readiness, in order to follow and ascertain the residence of any fair girl whose attractions particularly caught his fancy! At this period the old man was deaf with one ear, blind with one eye,

nearly toothless, and labouring under multiplied infirmities. But the hideous propensities of his prime still pursued him when all enjoyment was impossible. Can there be a greater penalty for unbridled licentiousness? MR LUMSDEN.

Mr Lumsden, whose inveterate love of gambling eventually caused his ruin, was to be seen every day at Frascati's, the celebrated gambling house kept by Mme Dunan, where some of the most celebrated women of the demi-monde usually congregated. He was a martyr to the gout, and his hands and knuckles were a mass of chalk-stones. He stuck to the Rouge et Noir table until everybody had left; and while playing would take from his pocket a small slate, upon which he would rub his chalk-stones until blood flowed. `Having on one occasion been placed near him at the Rouge et Noir table, I ventured,' says Captain Gronow, `to expostulate with him for rubbing his knuckles against his slate. He coolly answered, “I feel relieved when I see the blood ooze out.&” '

Mr Lumsden was remarkable for his courtly manners; but his absence of mind was astonish

ing, for he would frequently ask his neighbour *where he was! Crowds of men and women would congregate behind his chair, to look at `the mad Englishman,' as he was called; and his eccen-tricities used to amuse even the croupiers. After losing a large fortune at this den of iniquity, Mr Lumsden encountered every evil of poverty, and died in a wretched lodging in the Rue St Marc.[144]

GENERAL SCOTT, THE HONEST WINNER OF £200,000.

General Scott, the father-in-law of George Canning and the Duke of Portland, was known to have won at White's £200,000, thanks to his notorious sobriety and knowledge of the game of Whist. The general possessed a great advantage over his companions by avoiding those indulgences at the table which used to muddle other men's brains. He confined himself to dining off something like a boiled chicken, with toast and water; by such a regimen he came to the Whist table with a clear head; and possessing as he did a remarkable memory, with great coolness of judgment, he was able honestly to win the enormous sum of £200,000.

RICHARD BENNET.

Richard Bennet had gone through every walk of a blackleg, from being a billiard sharper at a table in Bell Alley until he became a keeper or partner in all the `hells' in St James's. In each stage of his journey he had contrived to have so much the better of his competitors, that he was enabled to live well, to bring up and educate a large legitimate family, and to gratify all his passions and sensuality. But besides all this, he accumulated an ample fortune, which this inveterate gamester did actually possess when the terriers of justice overtook and hunted him into the custody of the Marshal of the Court of Queen's Bench. Here he was sentenced to be imprisoned a certain time, on distinct indictments, for keeping different gaming houses, and was ordered to be kept in custody until he had also paid fines to the amount, we believe, of £4000. Bennet, however, after undergoing the imprisonment, managed to get himself discharged without paying the fines. DENNIS O'KELLY.

Dennis O'Kelly was the Napoleon of the turf

and the gaming table. Ascot was his elysium. His horses occupied him by day and the Hazard table by night. At the latter one night he was seen repeatedly turning over a *quire of bank notes, and a gentleman asked him what he was looking for, when he replied, `I am looking for a *little one.' The inquirer said he could accommodate him, and desired to know for what sum. Dennis O'Kelly answered, `I want a FIFTY, or something of *that sort, just to set the *caster. At this moment it was supposed he had seven or eight *thousand pounds in notes in his hand, but not one for less than a *hundred!

Dennis O'Kelly always threw with great success; and when he held the box he was seldom known to refuse throwing for *any sum that the company chose to set him. He was always liberal in *setting the caster, and preventing a stagnation of trade at the *table, which, from the great property always about him, it was his good fortune very frequently to deprive of its last floating guinea, when the box of course became dormant for want of a single adventurer.

It was his custom to carry a great number of bank notes in his waistcoat pocket, twisted up

together, with the greatest indifference; and on one occasion, in his attendance at a Hazard table at Windsor, during the races, being a *standing better and every chair full, a person's hand was observed, by those on the opposite side of the table, just in the act of drawing two notes out of his pocket. The alarm was given, and the hand, from the person behind, was instantly withdrawn, and the notes left sticking out. The company became clamorous for taking the offender before a magistrate, and many attempted to secure him for the purpose; but Captain Dennis O'Kelly very philosophically seized him by the collar, kicked him down-stairs, and exultingly exclaimed, `'Twas a *sufficient punishment to be deprived of the pleasure of keeping company with *jontlemen.'

A bet for a large sum was once proposed to this `Admirable Crichton' of the turf and the gaming table, and accepted. The proposer asked O'Kelly where lay his *estates to answer for the amount if he lost?' `My estates!' cried O'Kelly. `Oh, if that's what you *mane, I've a *map of them here' — and opening his pocket-book he exhibited bank notes to *ten times the sum in question, and ultimately added the *inquirer's contribution to them.

Such was the wonderful son of Erin, `Captain' or `Colonel' Dennis O'Kelly. One would like to know what ultimately became of him. DICK ENGLAND.

Jack Tether, Bob W — r, Tom H — ll, Captain O'Kelly, and others, spent with Dick England a great part of the plunder of poor Clutterbuck, a clerk of the Bank of England, who not only lost his all, but robbed the Bank of an immense sum to pay his `debts of honour.'

A Mr B — , a Yorkshire gentleman, proposed to his brother-in-law, who was with him, to put down ten pounds each and try their luck at the `Hell' kept by `the Clerks of the Minster,' in the Minster Yard, next the Church. It was the race-week. There were about thirteen Greeks there, Dick England at their head. Mr B — put down £10. England then called `Seven the main — if seven or eleven is thrown next, the Caster wins.' Of course Dick intended to win; but he blundered in his operation; he *landed at six and the other did not answer his hopes. Yet, with matchless effrontery, he swore he had called *six and not seven; and as it was referred to the majority of the goodly company,

thirteen *honest gentlemen gave it in Dick England's favour, and with him divided the spoil.

A Mr D — , a gentleman of considerable landed property in the North, proposed passing a few days at Scarborough. Dick England saw his carriage enter the town, and contrived to get into his company and go with him to the rooms. When the assembly was over, he prevailed on Mr D — to sup with him. After supper Mr D — was completely intoxicated, and every effort to make him play was tried in vain.

This was, of course, very provoking; but still something must be done, and a very clever scheme they hit upon to try and `do' this `young man from the country.' Dick England and two of his associates played for five minutes, and then each of them marked a card as follows: — `D — owes me one hundred guineas,' `D — owes me eighty guineas;' but Dick marked *his card — `I owe D — thirty guineas.'

The next day, Mr D — met Dick England on the cliff and apologized for his excess the night before, hoping he had given no offence `when drunk and incapable.' Having satisfied the gentleman on this point, Dick England presented him

with a thirty-guinea note, which, in spite of contradiction, remonstrance, and denial of any play having taken place, he forced on Mr D — as his *fair winning — adding that he had paid hundreds to gentlemen in liquor, who knew nothing of it till he had produced the account. Of course Mr D — could not help congratulating himself at having fallen in with a perfect gentleman, as well as consoling himself for any head-ache or other inconvenience resulting from his night's potation. They parted with gushing civilities between them.

Soon afterwards, however, two other gentlemen came up to Mr D — , whom the latter had some vague recollection of having seen the evening before, in company with Dick England; and at length, from what the two gentlemen said, he had no doubt of the fact, and thought it a fit opportunity to make a due acknowledgment of the gentlemanly conduct of their friend, who had paid him a bet which he had no remembrance of having made.

No mood could be better for the purpose of the meeting; so the two gentlemen not only approved of the conduct of Dick, and descanted on the propriety of paying drunken men what they won, but also declared that no *gentleman would refuse to pay a

debt of honour won from him when drunk; and at once begged leave to `remind' Mr D — that he had lost to them 180 guineas! In vain the astounded Mr D — denied all knowledge of the transaction; the gentlemen affected to be highly indignant, and talked loudly of injured honour. Besides, had he not received 30 guineas from their friend? So he assented, and appointed the next morning to settle the matter.

Fortunately for Mr D — , however, some intelligent friends of his arrived in the mean time, and having heard his statement about the whole affair, they `smelt a rat,' and determined to ferret it out. They examined the waiter — previously handing him over five guineas — and this man declared the truth that Mr D — did not play at all — in fact, that he was in such a condition that there could not be any real play. Dick England was therefore `blown' on this occasion. Mr D — returned him his thirty guineas, and paid five guineas for his share of the supper; and well he might, considering that it very nearly cost him 150 guineas — that is, having to receive 30 guineas and to pay 180 guineas to the Greeks — profit and loss with a vengeance.

Being thus `blown' at Scarborough, Dick Eng

land and his associates decamped on the following morning.

He next formed a connection with a lieutenant on half pay, nephew to an Irish earl. With this lieutenant he went to Spa, and realized something considerable; but not without suspicion — for a few dice were missed.

Dick England returned to London, where he shortly disagreed with the lieutenant. The latter joined the worthy before described, Captain O'Kelly, who was also at enmity with Dick England; and the latter took an opportunity of knocking their heads together in a public coffee-room, and thrashing them both till they took shelter under the tables. Dick had the strength of an ox, the ferocity of a bull-dog, and `the cunning of the serpent,' although what the latter is no naturalist has ever yet discovered or explained.

The lieutenant determined on revenge for the thrashing. He had joined his regiment, and he `peached' against his former friend, disclosing to the officers the circumstance of the dice at Spa, before mentioned; and, of course, upset all the designs of Dick England and his associates. This enraged all the blacklegs; a combination was

formed against the lieutenant; and he was shot through the head by `a brother officer,' who belonged to the confraternity.

The son of an earl lost forty thousand pounds in play to Dick England; and shot himself at Stacie's Hotel in consequence — the very night before his honourable father sent his steward to pay the `debt of honour' in full — though aware that his son had been cheated out of it.

But the most extraordinary `pass' of Dick England's career is still to be related — not without points in it which make it difficult to believe, in spite of the evidence, that it is the same `party' who was concerned in it. Here it is.

In the Gentleman's Magazine, in Gilchrist's Collection of British Duels, in Dr Millingen's reproduction of the latter, the following account occurs: —

`Mr Richard England was put to the bar at the Old Bailey, charged with the “wilful murder&” of Mr Rowlls, brewer, of Kingston, in a duel at Cranford-bridge, June 18, 1784.

`Lord Derby, the first witness, gave evidence that he was present at Ascot races. When in the stand upon the race-course, he heard Mr England cautioning the gentlemen present not to bet with

the deceased, as he neither paid what he lost nor what he borrowed. On which Mr Rowlls went up to him, called him rascal or scoundrel, and offered to strike him; when Mr England bid him stand off, or he would be obliged to knock him down; saying, at the same time — “We have interrupted the company sufficiently here, and if you have anything further to say to me, you know where I am to be found.&” A further altercation ensued; but his Lordship being at the other end of the stand, did not distinctly hear it, and then the parties retired.

`Lord Dartrey, afterwards Lord Cremorne, and his lady, with a gentleman, were at the inn at the time the duel was fought. They went into the garden and endeavoured to prevent the duel; several other persons were collected in the garden. Mr Rowlls desired his Lordship and others not to interfere; and on a second attempt of his Lordship to make peace, Mr Rowlls said, if they did not retire, he must, though reluctantly, call them impertinent. Mr England at the same time stepped forward, and took off his hat; he said — “Gentlemen, I have been cruelly treated; I have been injured in my honour and character; let reparation be made, and I am ready to have done this moment.&”

Lady Dartrey retired. His Lordship stood in the bower of the garden until he saw Mr Rowlls fall. One or two witnesses were called, who proved nothing material. A paper, containing the prisoner's defence, being read, the Earl of Derby, the Marquis of Hertford, Sir Whitbread, jun., Colonel Bishopp, and other gentlemen, were called to his character. They all spoke of him as a man of decent gentlemanly deportment, who, instead of seeking quarrels, was studious to avoid them. He had been friendly to Englishmen while abroad, and had rendered some service to the military at the siege of Newport.

`Mr Justice Rooke summoned up the evidence; after which the jury retired for about three quarters of an hour, when they returned a verdict of “manslaughter.&”

`The prisoner having fled from the laws of his country for twelve years, the Court was disposed to show no lenity. He was therefore sentenced to pay a fine of one shilling, and be imprisoned in Newgate twelve months.'

This trial took place in the year 1796, and the facts in evidence give a strange picture of the times. A duel actually fought in the garden of an inn, a noble lord close by in a bower therein,

and his lady certainly within *hearing of the shots, and doubtless a spectator of the bloody spectacle. But this is not the point, — the incomprehensible point, — to which I have alluded — which is, how Lord Derby and the other gentlemen of the highest standing could come forward to speak to the character of *Dick England, if he was the same man who killed the unfortunate brewer of Kingston?

Here is *another account of the matter, which warrants the doubt, although it is fearfully circumstantial, as to the certain identity: —

`Mr William Peter le Rowles, of Kingston, brewer, was habitually fond of play. On one occasion he was induced — when in a state of in-toxication — to play with Dick England, who claimed, in consequence, winnings to the amount of two hundred guineas. Mr le Rowles utterly denied the debt, and was in consequence pursued by England until he was compelled to a duel, in which Mr le Rowles fell. Lord Dartrey, afterwards Lord Cremorne, was present at Ascot Heath races on the fatal occasion, which happened in 1784; and his evidence before the coroner's inquest produced a verdict of wilful murder against

Dick England, who fled at the time, but returned twelve years afterwards, was tried, and found guilty of manslaughter only. He was imprisoned for twelve months. England was strongly suspected of highway robberies; particularly on one occasion, when his associate, F — , was shot dead by Col. P — on his return from the Curragh races to the town of Naas. The Marquis of Hertford, Lords Derby and Cremorne, Colonels Bishopp and Wollaston, and Messrs Whitbread, Breton, &c., were evidences in the trial.'[145]

It may seem strange that such a man as Dick England could procure such distinguished `witnesses to character.' The thing is easily explained, however. They knew the man only as a turf companion. We can come to no other conclusion, — remembering other instances of the kind. For example, the case of Palmer, convicted for the poisoning of Cooke. Had Palmer been on his trial merely for fighting a fatal duel; there can be no doubt that several noblemen would have come forward to give him a good character. I was present at his trial, and saw him *bow to one, at least, of our most distinguished noblemen when the latter took

his seat near the judge, at the trial. There was a *turf acquaintanceship between them, and, of course, all `acquaintanceship' may be presumed upon, if we lay ourselves open to the degradation.

The following is a curious case in point. A gentleman of the highest standing and greatest respectability was accosted by a stranger to whom he said — `Sir, you have the advantage of me.' `Oh!' rejoined the former, `don't you remember when we used to meet at certain parties at Bath many years ago?' `Well, sir,' exclaimed the gentleman, `you may speak to me should you ever again meet me at certain parties at Bath, but nowhere else.' MAJOR BAGGS.

This famous gamester died in 1792, by a cold caught in `a round-house,' or place of detention, to which he had been taken by Justice Hyde, from a gaming table.

When too ill to rise out of his chair, he would be carried in that chair to the Hazard table.

He was supposed to have been the utter ruin of above forty persons at play. He fought eleven duels.

THE DUC DE MIREFOIX.

The Duc de Mirefoix was ambassador at the British Court, and was extremely fond of chess. A reverend gentleman being nearly his equal, they frequently played together. At that time the clergyman kept a petty day-school in a small village, and had a living of not more than twenty pounds a-year. The French nobleman made uncommon interest with a noble duke, through whose favour he obtained for his reverend protégé a living of about £600 per annum — an odd way of obtaining the `cure of souls!' A RECLAIMED GAMBLER'S ACCOUNT OF HIS CAREER.

`Some years since I was lieutenant in a regiment, which the alarm and policy of administration occasioned to be quartered in the vicinity of the metropolis, where I was for the first time. A young nobleman of very distinguished family undertook to be my conductor. Alas! to what scenes did he introduce me! To places of debauchery and dens of destruction. I need not detail particulars. From the lures of the courte-san we went to an adjoining gaming room.

Though I thought my knowledge of cards superior to those I saw play that night, I touched no card nor dice. From this my conductor, a brother officer, and myself adjourned to Pall Mall. We returned to our lodgings about six o'clock in the morning.

`I could think of nothing but Faro's magic centre, and longed for the next evening, when I determined to enter that path which has led so many to infamy, beggary, and suicide. I began cautiously, and for some time had reason to be satisfied with my success. It enabled me to live expensively. I made golden calculations of my future fortune as I improved in skill. My manuals were treatises on gaming and chances, and no man understood this doctrine better than I did. I, however, did not calculate the disparity of resisting powers — my purse with *fifty guineas, and the Faro bank with a hundred thousand. It was ruin only which opened my eyes to this truism at last.

`Good meats, good cooking, and good wines, given gratis and plenteously, at these houses, drew many to them at first, for the sake of the society. Among them I one evening chanced to see a clerical

prig, who was incumbent of a parish adjoining that in which my mother lived. I was intoxicated with wine and pleasure, when I, on this occasion, entered a haunt of ruin and enterprising avarice in Pall Mall. I played high and lost in proportion.

`The spirit of adventure was now growing on me every day. I was sometimes very successful. Yet my health was impaired, and my temper soured by the alternation of good and bad fortune, and my pity or contempt for those with whom I associated. From the nobleman, whose acres were nightly melting in the dice box, there were adventurers even to the *unfledged apprentice, who came with the pillage of his unsuspecting master's till, to swell the guilty bank of Dame N — and Co. Were the Commissioners of Bankruptcy to know how many citizens are prepared for them at those houses, they would be bound to thank them.

`Many a score of guineas have I won of tradesmen, who seemed only to turn an honest penny in Leadenhall Street, Aldgate, Birchin Lane, Cornhill, Cheapside, Holborn, the Borough, and other eastern spots of industry; but I fleeced them only for the benefit of the Faro bank, which is sure, finally, to absorb the gain of all. Some of the

croupiers would call their gold *gifts of the wise men of the East; others termed their guineas *Cockney counters!

`One night I had such a run of luck in the Hazard room, which was rather thinly attended, that I won everything, and with my load of treasure collected from the East and West, nay, probably, some of it from *Finchley Common and *Hounslow Heath, I went, in the flush of success, to attack the Faro bank.

`It was my determination, however, if fortune favoured me through the night, never to tempt her more. For some hours I proceeded in the torture of suspense, alternately agitated by hope and fear — but by five o'clock in the morning I attained a state of certainty similar to that of a wretch ushered into the regions of the damned. I had lost £3500 guineas, which I had brought with me from the Hazard table, together with £2000 which the bank advanced me on my credit. There they stopped; and, with an apathy peculiar to themselves, listened to a torrent of puerile abuse which I vented against them in my despair.

`Two days and two nights I shut myself up, to indulge in the most racking reflections. I was

ruined beyond repair, and I had, on the third morning, worked myself up to resort for relief to a loaded pistol. I rang for my servant to bring me some gunpowder, and was debating with myself whether to direct its force to my brain or my heart, when he entered with a letter. It was from Harriet — — . She had heard of my misfortunes, and urged me with the soul and pen of a heroine, to fly the destructive habits of the town, and to wait for nine months, when her minority would expire, and she would come into the uncontrolled possession of £1700. With that small sum she hoped my expenses, talents, and domestic comfort, under her housewifery, would create a state of happiness and independence which millions could not procure in the mad career which I had pursued.

`This was the voice of a guardian angel in the moment of despair. In her next, at my request, she informed me that the channel of her early and minute information was the clerical prig, her neighbour and admirer, who was related to one of the croupiers at — — , and had from him a regular detail of my proceedings.

`Soothed by the magic influence of my

virtuous Harriet, instead of calling the croupier to account, I wrote to the proprietors of the bank, stating my ruined condition, and my readiness to sell my commission and pay them what I could. These gentlemen have friends in every department. They completed the transfer of my lieutenancy in two days, and then, in their superabundant humanity, offered me the place of croupier in an inferior house which they kept near Hanover Square. This offer I declined; and after having paid my tradesman's bill, I left London with only eleven guineas in my pocket. I married the best of women, my preserver, and have ever since lived in real comfort and happiness, on an income less than one hundred pounds a year.' A SURPRISE.

A stranger plainly dressed took his seat at a Faro table, when the bank was richer than usual. After some little routine play, he challenged the bank, and tossed his pocket-book to the banker that he might be satisfied of his responsibility. It was found to contain bills to an immense amount; and on the banker showing reluctance to accept the challenge, the stranger sternly demanded com

pliance with the laws of the game. The card soon turned up which decided the ruin of the banker. `Heaven!' exclaimed an old infirm Austrian officer, who had sat next to the stranger — `the twentieth part of your gains would make me the happiest man in the universe!' The stranger briskly answered — `You shall have it, then;' and quitted the room. A servant speedily returned, and presented the officer with the twentieth part of the bank, adding — `My master requires no answer, sir,' and went out. The successful stranger was soon recognized to be the great King of Prussia in disguise.