FOOTNOTES:
[4] No. 81 Piccadilly.
Craze for eccentric wagers at end of eighteenth century—Lord Cobham's insulting freak and its results—Betting and gaming at White's—The Arms of the Club—The old betting-book and its quaint wagers—Tragedies of play—White's to-day—£180,000 lost at hazard at the Cocoa Tree—Brummell as a gambler—Gaming at Brooks's—Anecdotes—General Scott—Whist—Mr. Pratt—Wattier's Club—Scandal at Graham's—Modern gambling clubs—The Park Club case in 1884—Dangers of private play.
Towards the end of the eighteenth century a curious mania for making eccentric wagers seized hold of the bucks of the day. Unlike many another craze this was not imported from France, but had its rise and progress entirely in England. During the last illness of Louis XIV., Lord Stair laid a wager on his death, which rather astonished the French, who did not approve of such a form of speculation. At a subsequent period bets about the most trivial incidents became quite common in the West End of London. Not infrequently some thoughtless wager would lead to considerable trouble.
Lord Cobham, for instance, once foolishly bet Mr. Nugent a guinea that he would spit in Lord Bristol's hat without the latter, who had a reputation for effeminacy, resenting it. The wager itself was singularly lacking in refinement, and the moment chosen for carrying it out was quite in keeping.
Lord Bristol being one day at Lady Cobham's talking to some ladies, he chanced to lean over a chair holding his hat behind him, into which Lord Cobham deliberately spat, at the same time asking Mr. Nugent, who was present, for his guinea; after which he began to make the most profuse apologies to the victim of the outrage, who, remaining apparently quite unmoved, merely asked if his host had any further use for his hat, and then resumed his conversation, and every one considered the incident at an end. Lord Bristol being to all outward appearance absolutely unruffled.
The next morning, however, both Lord Cobham and Mr. Nugent received messages demanding satisfaction, to which they returned the most humble answers. The incident, they declared, was all merely a foolish joke, and they were quite ready to make all sorts of submissive apologies.
Lord Bristol, however, would only assent to condone the insult if the aggressors were ready to make a public apology in the Club-room at White's, where he was prepared to receive it, and here, amidst a crowd of members, Lord Cobham and Mr. Nugent publicly expressed their regret.
As the eighteenth century waned. White's Club developed into a great gambling centre; its members indeed professed a universal scepticism and decided everything by a wager. There was nothing, however trivial or ridiculous, which was not capable of producing a bet. Many pounds were lost upon the colour of a coach-horse, the birth of a child, the breaking off of a marriage, and even a change in the weather.
A favourite mode of speculation was backing one man against another, that is, betting that he would live the longest. People of all classes were made the subjects of such bets. An actor was pitted against a duke, an alderman against a bishop, a pimp against some member of the privy council. Scarcely a remarkable person existed upon whose life many thousand pounds did not depend. The various changes in the health of any one who was the subject of heavy betting naturally gave rise to many serious reflections in the minds of the people who had wagered large sums on his life or death. Some would closely watch all the stages of a total stranger's illness, more impatient for his death than the undertaker who expected to have the care of his funeral; others would be very solicitous about his recovery, and send every hour to know how his health progressed, taking as great care of him as any clergyman's wife who has no other fortune than the living of her husband. Great consternation was caused by an unexpected demise. Considerable odds were laid upon a man with the constitution of a porter, who was pitted against an individual expected to die every week. The porter, however, unexpectedly shot himself through the head, and the knowing ones were taken in.
The main supporters of gaming at White's at this time were George Selwyn, Lord March, Fox, and Lord Carlisle.
The latter was of a rather more serious disposition than the others, and had a wife and children to whom he was devoted. Though at times a high gambler himself, he wrote several letters to Selwyn, warning him of the dangers of hazard.
On one occasion Lord Carlisle won £13,000 from a peer, which he never seems to have got, and again indulged in some disastrous play in 1776, after which he wrote to George Selwyn to say that he had never lost so much at five different sittings as on this occasion in one night. A note by Selwyn in the letter puts the sum at £10,000. In after-life Lord Carlisle entirely abandoned gaming, and settled down into an exemplary country gentleman.
Another constant player for high stakes at White's was Sir Everard Fawkener, the writer's great-grandfather, who held an important office in connection with the Post Office. He played cards very badly, and George Selwyn used to say that playing with him was as bad as "robbing the mail."
In the hall of White's Club hangs a carved wooden copy of the whimsical old coat of arms of the Club—the original painting of which is at Arthur's. This was painted by Dick Edgecumbe after the design had been concocted one wet day at Strawberry Hill by the painter, George Selwyn, George (known as Gilly) Williams, and their host Horace Walpole, who had the arms engraved.
The original arms were as follows:—
"Vert (for a card-table); between three parolis, proper, on a chevron sable, two rouleaux in saltire between two dice, proper. In a canton sable, a ball (for election), argent. Supporters, an old knave of clubs on the dexter, a young knave on the sinister side; both accoutred proper. Crest, issuing out of an earl's coronet (Lord Darlington's) an arm shaking a dice-box, all proper. Motto alluding to the crest 'Cogit amor nummi'.[5] The arms encircled with a claret bottle ticket by way of order."
The old betting-book at White's contains many curious entries, the first of which dates from 1743. A number of the earliest wagers are concerned with the probabilities of the birth of children to well-known ladies of the day, the duration of life to be enjoyed by certain individuals, and the like.
On 21st March 1746, Mr. John Jeffries bets Mr. Dayrolle five guineas that Lady Kildare has a child born alive before Lady Catherine Petersham. A note is appended "miscarriages go for nothing."
On the 8th of October in the same year Lord Montfort bets Mr. Greville one hundred guineas that Mr. Nash is alive on the same day four years to come.
The Lord Montfort in question was a typical gamester of the time. In the betting-book at White's no less than sixty wagers, amounting to £5500, are recorded against his name. Most of these were about births, marriages, and deaths. On sporting wagers, the nobleman in question seems to have been content to risk only small sums. A true gambler, he preferred to hazard his fortune, and, as it turned out, his life, on the unforeseen.
On the 4th of November 1754, is entered the following: "Lord Montfort wagers Sir John Bland one hundred guineas that Mr. Nash outlives Mr. Cibber." This refers to two very old men, Colley Cibber, the actor, and Beau Nash, the "King of Bath." Below the entry in the betting-book, written in another handwriting, is the significant note: "Both Lord M. and Sir John Bland put an end to their own lives before the bet was decided."
The first of these tragedies took place on New Year's Day of 1755. Lord Montfort's death and the circumstances of it attracted great attention. He was considered one of the shrewdest men of his time, and, as Walpole said, "would have betted any man in England against himself for self-murder." Lord Montfort was of course eventually ruined—at White's alone he lost a fortune at hazard. As a last resource, he then eagerly applied (much to the surprise of the dilatory Duke of Newcastle) for the Governorship of Virginia or the Royal hounds. He got neither, and after spending the last evening of the year 1754 at White's, where he sat up at whist till one o'clock, went home in a strange mood, and shot himself next morning.
A tragic fate likewise befell Sir John Bland, who dissipated his entire fortune at hazard. At a single sitting he at one time lost as much as £32,000, though he recovered a portion of it before play was ended. Sir John shot himself on the road from Calais to Paris.
Some of the wagers chronicled in the betting-book are decidedly vague, the following for instance: "Mr. Talbot bets a certain gentleman a certain sum that a certain event does not take place within a certain time."
During the Napoleonic era several bets were made as to the chances of the Emperor getting back to Paris at the close of the Russian campaign, about ten to one being wagered on such an event happening.
A curious bet, dated February 14, 1813, is the following: "Lord Alvanley bets Sir Joseph Copley five guineas that a certain Baronet understood between them is very much embarrassed in his circumstances in three years from the date hereof; if one of his bills is dishonoured, or he is observed to borrow small change of the chairmen or waiters, Sir Joseph is to be reckoned to lose."
In 1797, hazard seems to have been allowed at White's, but it was expressly laid down that no member should be permitted to keep a faro bank. This rule was doubtless made to avoid the state of things which had lately prevailed across the way at Brooks's.
As time went on gambling became a thing of the past within the walls of White's, and the survivors of a reckless era in its history sobered down into grave and somewhat crotchety old men, who, from the stronghold of an accustomed seat, eyed younger members with a freezing gaze. When the question of smoking in the morning-room was raised their indignation knew no bounds, and even infirm old members—fossils who Alfred Montgomery declared had come from Kensal Green—tottered into the Club to oppose it. So given were these relics of the past to wrapping themselves in a cloak of exclusiveness that at one time the Club came almost to a standstill. Within recent years, however, White's has taken a new lease of life, and after an existence of one hundred and seventy-three years is now in as flourishing a state as ever. The Club-house has been enlarged and various alterations made—always, let it be said, with due regard for the traditions of the past. Unfortunately, in the course of time much connected with its former history has disappeared—it does not, for instance, possess a set of old gaming counters, which have a certain historic interest in these more sober days. The Club is particularly anxious to acquire any relics connected with its past, and also any representations of the Club-house (at the present time under repair) as it existed before the alterations of 1853, when a new façade replaced the old front.
Lower down St. James's Street, on the other side of the road, another Club, in old days notorious for high play, still exists. This is the Cocoa Tree, where very large sums once changed hands. During the year 1780 no less than £180,000 was lost here in a single week. In the same year Mr. O'Birne, an Irish gamester, won £100,000 at hazard of a young Mr. Harvey of Chigwell, a midshipman, who, by his elder brother's death, had suddenly come into a good estate. "You can never pay me," said O'Birne. "I will sell my estate to do so," replied the young man. "No," was the not ungenerous reply, "I will win ten thousand and you shall throw for the odd ninety." The dice were cast and Harvey won—still the evening cost him £10,000.
After Waterloo there appears to have been a revival of gaming in the West End, many officers returning to England with long arrears of pay at their command. This wave of gaming ruined Brummell. At first he was not particularly devoted to play, and had extraordinary luck when he indulged in it. At one sitting at whist at White's he won £10,000 from George Harley Drummond, the banker. It is said that this was the first game Drummond ever played at a Club; it was probably his last, for it led to his withdrawal from the banking business. But Brummell was not a man of large property, and when later he began to play habitually, a few reverses were sufficient to ruin a man of small means who matched his fortune against the much longer purses of his friends.
Brummell had no illusions as to the ultimate fate of a gambler, and once tied himself up against play, receiving a ten-pound note from Pemberton Mills on condition that he should forfeit a thousand if he played again at White's for a month. Nevertheless, a fortnight later he was playing again. His friend did not claim the thousand but merely said: "Well, Brummell, you may at least give me back my ten pounds." Playing at hazard one night with Alderman Combe, whom he playfully called "Mash-tub" because he was a brewer, the Beau, having won a considerable sum, said, pocketing the cash: "Thank you, Alderman; in future I shall never drink any porter but yours." "I wish, sir," was the reply, "that every blackguard in London would tell me the same."
In the end Brummell went under, owing, he declared, with all the superstition of a gambler, to the loss of a lucky sixpence with a hole in it, which he had picked up in the small hours of the morning in Berkeley Square. He gave it away, by mistake, to a cabman, and used to say that he supposed "that rascal Rothschild, or some of his set, had got hold of it."
One of the greatest gamblers in the early part of the nineteenth century was Lord Rivers, whose dashing play at Parisian tables had earned for him the name of "Le Wellington des Joueurs."
During a portion of his career this nobleman was said to have won nearly a hundred thousand pounds by gambling. As a card-player he was cool and skilful, whilst at the same time quick to seize the moment for exchanging caution for dash. At times, however, he was careless—he once lost £3400 at whist by not remembering that the seven of hearts was still in.
Crockford's eventually ruined him as it did many others—some it could not ruin. Lord Sefton, for instance, is said to have lost no less than £200,000 there. After his death the proprietor presented an acceptance for £40,000 to his son, which was paid. At the beginning of the nineteenth century young men-about-town were exposed to every sort of dangerous temptation.
In 1813 a youthful commoner, heir to large estates, was unpleasantly initiated into the mysteries of fashionable play by losing nearly £20,000 at hazard at a West-End Club, it being the first time he had ever played. His single antagonist was a noble Lord of considerable experience, who by mere chance held the box so luckily as to throw in seven times successively. A remark being made upon so extraordinary a run of the dice, his Lordship insisted upon having them cut up, to manifest that his success had been perfectly honourable—and the bones, on dissection, were found perfectly innocent.
Gambling flourished at all the fashionable clubs. Brooks's in particular was noted for unlimited gambling during the first forty years of its existence. The prevalence of gambling there is shown by one of the old rules, which prohibited "gaming in the 'eating-room' except tossing up for reckonings." The penalty for a breach of this regulation was paying the whole bill of the members present.
Though a rule existed which forbade the members to stake upon credit, it was more or less treated as a dead letter, Mr. Brooks being generally ready to make any advance which the members might desire. The result of such confidence in the solvency of his clientele appears to have been disappointing, for after eight years Mr. Brooks withdrew from the Mastership of the Club and died in very poor circumstances. All things considered this was not surprising, for he was a man
Who, nursed in clubs, disdains a vulgar trade,
Exults to trust, and blushes to be paid.
During the gaming period losses and winnings amounting to five, ten, or fifteen thousand pounds were not at all uncommon. Lord Stavordale, before he was of age, having lost £11,000 one night, struck a good run at hazard and got it all back. This, however, did not satisfy his Lordship, who swore a great oath, saying, "Now if I had been playing deep I might have won millions."
One member, Mr Thynne, retired in disgust in March 1772. According to a note written opposite his name in the Club books this was because he had "won only £12,000 during the last two months, and that he may never return is the ardent wish of members."
At Brooks's, Charles James Fox found himself amidst the most congenial facilities for ruin, and he did not let them pass. Fox, who joined Brooks's when he was sixteen, once sat in the Club playing at hazard for twenty-two hours in succession, when he lost £11,000. At twenty-five he was a ruined man, though his father had paid £140,000 for him out of his own property. In 1793 his friends raised £70,000 to pay his debts and buy him an annuity—a proof of the affection this curious character inspired.
It was at Brooks's that Lord Robert Spencer is said at one stroke to have recovered his considerable fortune lost at play. General Fitzpatrick and Lord Robert, having both come to their last shilling, contrived to raise a sufficient sum of money to keep a faro bank, which proved an extraordinarily lucky one. Lord Robert's share was no less than £100,000, with which he retired from the gambling-table for ever, and never played again.
Another well-known man of fashion lost at Brooks's £70,000 and everything else which he possessed, including his carriage and horses, which was his last stake. Charles Fox, who was present, and partook of the spoils, moved that an annuity of £50 per annum should be settled upon the unfortunate gentleman, to be paid out of the general fund, which motion was agreed to nem. con., and a resolution was entered into at the instance of the same gentleman, that every member who should be completely ruined in that house should be allowed a similar annuity out of the same fund, on condition that they are never to be admitted as sporting members; as in that case the society would be playing against their own money.
The old betting-book at Brooks's is a most curious record. A certain member, for instance, bets another five hundred guineas to ten that none of the Cabinet will be beheaded within the following three years. Another wagers fifty guineas that Mademoiselle Heinel will not dance at the opera next year. The whole volume is most characteristic of an age when all fashionable London lived in a vortex of speculation.
The Gambling-Room at Brooks's.
From a Water-colour Drawing in the possession of the Club.
Faro, quinze, and macao were the favourite games at Brooks's, but at one time whist for high stakes came into great favour. Two of the best players at this were a couple of characters known as Tippoo Smith and "Neptune"—the latter an old gentleman who had gained his nickname owing to his having once thrown himself into the sea under the false impression that he could no longer keep his head above water.
At Brooks's are preserved a number of relics of the old gambling days, including the faro table at which Fox played. This has a portion cut away, in order, it is said, to give room for his portly form. A complete set of the old gaming counters—the highest inscribed 500 guineas—is also here, whilst several prints and pictures (one of them reproduced in these pages by the courtesy of the Committee) give a good idea of a vanished day.
Brooks's was much frequented by a famous whist-player, General Scott, the father-in-law of George Canning and the Duke of Portland, who is said to have won about £200,000 at the game, of which he was a past master.
The General, indeed, was a very shrewd man where all forms of speculation were concerned, and once won a large wager at Newmarket in the following way. Just as his horse was about to start for a sweepstake, Mr. Panton called out to him, "General, I'll lay you a thousand pounds your horse is neither first nor last." The General accepted the bet and immediately gave directions to his rider; his horse came in last, and he claimed the money. Mr. Panton objected to payment, because the General had spoken to his rider; but the Jockey Club held that the bet was laid not upon the chance of the place in which the horse would come, if the rider was uninformed of it, but upon the opinion, that he had not speed enough to be first, nor tractability enough to be brought in last.
Nevertheless, the General, like most gamblers, had his moments of generosity. He was playing one evening with the Count d'Artois and the Duc de Chartres, at Paris, when a petition was brought up from the widow of a French officer, stating her various misfortunes, and praying relief. A plate was handed round, and each put in one, two, or three louis d'or, but when it was held to the General, who was going to throw for a stake of five hundred louis d'or, he said, "Stop a moment, if you please, sir: here goes for the widow!" The throw was successful, and he instantly swept the whole into the plate, and sent it down to her.
General Scott was an excellent whist-player, and lived in a most careful manner, which gave him a great advantage over his contemporaries, many of whom were reckless to a degree, tossing their money about in all directions, and borrowing from any one when short of cash.
General Scott followed a regime which assisted him to keep all his faculties in the very best condition for getting the most out of his cards. His dinner usually consisted of a boiled chicken, washed down with toast and water. His memory, coolness, and judgment were remarkable. With players such as these, whist became almost a religious function of a singularly profitable kind.
At the present day, when whist has fallen from its ancient high estate, and rendered practically obsolete owing to the popularity of bridge, it is difficult to realise the place which the game held in the estimation of many of our forefathers.
At the beginning of the nineteenth century almost as large sums were lost and won at whist as at the hazard-table, which was chiefly the resort of those who, like Fox, complained that games of skill afforded no excitement.
Many who were not entirely devoted to high play found their only relaxation in whist. Such a one was Lord Camden's brother, Mr. Edward Pratt, connected with the East India Company, whose sole bond with humanity is said to have lain in whist.
By no means an avaricious man, Mr. Pratt spent little upon his personal comfort, always living in the upper floor of a house owing to its tranquillity, and regularly dining in a room by himself at a tavern every day of the year, his only companion a solitary bottle of port.
He was seldom heard to speak, but no circumstance, however urgent, could prevail on him to break silence at whist, the favourite amusement, or rather occupation of his life; and, at the conclusion of each rubber, he could correctly call over the cards in the exact order in which they were played, as well as the persons from whose hands they fell, and enumerate various instances of error or dexterity in his associates, with practical remarks. This extraordinary exertion of the retentive powers was often doubted, and as often ascertained by considerable wagers.
Abstinence from speech, however, was the favourite, habitual, perhaps the affected, pleasure of his life; to such a pitch did he carry this eccentricity that he deliberately chose to forego many little satisfactions and comforts, rather than be at the trouble to ask for them.
In his voyages to India, Mr. Pratt might have been compared to some Eastern mystic, whose eyes and thoughts are immovably riveted by inspiration, madness, or emptiness to the region of the navel. When on voyages by sea it was his invariable custom to present the appearance of one entirely engrossed by his own thoughts, which, it was opined from his countenance, were of a peculiarly morose character. He often doubled the Cape without having scarcely uttered a word. During one voyage, when his ship had been detained by a long and troublesome calm, the anxious and dispirited crew were at last revived by the advent of the long-wished-for breeze. Amidst general excitement, a miserably dressed seaman on the topmast being at last able to proclaim the welcome tidings of land, Mr. Pratt alone struck a discordant note, for whilst the officers and ship's company were congratulating each other on the approaching joys of being on shore, though his features were observed to alter and somewhat unbend, no sound escaped his lips. "I knew you would enjoy the sight of land," at length said the first officer. "I saw it an hour before the careless ragamuffin aloft," were the first, the last, and the only words Mr. Pratt uttered during the voyage.
"A clear fire, a clean hearth, and the rigour of the game," was the sole earthly aim of Mr. Pratt, as it was of the old lady who declared that next to her devotions she loved a good game of whist. Players of this sort were not lukewarm gamesters or half-and-half players who have no objection to take a hand if one is wanted to make up a rubber; affirming that they have no pleasure in winning, or that they like to win one game and lose another. Keen antagonists, they never desired an adversary who had slipped a wrong card, to take it up and play another. They loved a thorough-paced partner and a determined enemy. They took and gave no concessions; they hated favours, never made a revoke, or passed it over in an adversary without exacting the utmost penalty. They never introduced or connived at miscellaneous conversation during the progress of a game, for, as they emphatically observed, cards were cards. Whist was their business and duty—the thing which they had come into the world to do—and they did it.
In the early days of the nineteenth century a great deal of gambling went on at Wattier's Club, No. 81 Piccadilly (now a private house), which made a speciality of macao. This game is said to have been introduced into England by French émigrés.
Wattier's was kept by an old maître d'hôtel of George IV., who, quite a character in his way, prided himself upon the excellence of his cuisine and wines.
The life of Wattier's was a short and merry one, for it only lasted some twelve years, being closed in 1819, when for a time it became a sort of common gambling-house. Byron, Beau Brummell, and many other men of fashion frequented the Club, and, occasionally, says tradition, solaced themselves for their losses by throwing bottles of wine out of the window into the yard of the house just across the way.
Some sixteen years later there was a good deal of high play at whist at Graham's Club, and a scandal occurred. Lord de Ros being charged with unfair play by the Satirist newspaper, against which he brought an action for libel. Much curious evidence was given during the trial, one witness admitting that he had won no less than £35,000 in fifteen years at whist. Another—Captain Alexander—estimated his winnings at about £1600 a year. Asked by Counsel how long he had played on a certain occasion, he replied: "All night." "After a slight dinner I suppose?" "As good a dinner as I can get." "A small boiled chicken and a glass of lemonade perhaps?" The witness for some reason considered this insulting and excitedly said: "I deny the lemonade altogether—I never take lemonade"—a disavowal which plunged the court into laughter. Considerable amusement was also created by another witness who, being asked whether he had ever seen anything suspicious about the prosecutor's play replied: "Yes." "What course did you take?" "I always backed him," was the answer.
In the end the peer, who was Premier Baron of England, lost his case. He did not long survive the disgrace, and on his death in 1837 the following line was suggested by Theodore Hook as an epitaph—
Here lies England's Premier Baron patiently awaiting the last trump.
Towards the middle of the nineteenth century gambling in Clubs began to decline, though, as is always the case, intermittent fits of private gambling were frequent at the West End. In the late 'seventies and early 'eighties, however, of the last century there was some revival of gaming-clubs, or rather places called clubs.
A considerable number of these, started merely for the purposes of play, sprang up in the West End; and the proprietors in many cases realised large sums by cashing the cheques of players, a certain percentage being deducted from the amount of the sum, which was not infrequently handed over in counters. A clever proprietor would, of course, know how much any particular client was good for, and take care to run few risks. Where play was high and the members rich a plentiful harvest was reaped.
The most fashionable Club of this sort was the Park Club, Park Place, St James's, where, in 1884, there was a good deal of high play at baccarat. The existence of what was virtually a gaming-club aroused much comment, and, the matter reaching the ears of the authorities, it was not long before action was taken.
As considerable misapprehension exists as to how the English law views gaming, some account of the proceedings which followed may not be out of place.
On the 17th of January 1884, Mr. St John Wontner attended at Bow Street on behalf of Mr. Howard Vincent, the Director of the Criminal Investigation Department, to apply for process against the Park Club, Park Place, St. James's, under the provisions of the Gaming Acts.
Mr. Wontner, referring to the section of the Act under which it was proposed to proceed, said that the summons was applied for against the proprietor, the secretary, the committee, and various members of this Club, for keeping the premises as a common gambling-house, where they habitually allowed baccarat to be played.
Attention was called to the comments of the Press on gambling, and it was said that various complaints had been made to the police, in consequence of which an inspector was instructed to intimate to the proprietors of various Clubs that the practice of playing games of chance was illegal, and proceedings would be taken were it to be continued.
Play had been suspended at various Clubs, but in the ease of this particular Club, Messrs. Lewis & Lewis, Solicitors, of Ely Place, had communicated with the authorities to the effect that it was the intention of those concerned to test the question, and expressed willingness to answer any proceedings that might be instituted.
On the 1st of February 1884, at Bow Street, before Sir J. Ingham, Jenks (proprietor), Dalton (secretary), and certain members of this Club and its committee appeared to a summons charging them with a contravention of the Gaming Act.
Mr. St. John Wontner prosecuted, Mr. Charles Russell, afterwards Lord Russell of Killowen, and Mr. Poland, instructed by Mr. George Lewis, defended.
The charge against the defendants was that they were concerned in keeping a common gaming-house, and permitting a game of chance to be played called "baccarat." For the prosecution Mr. Wontner quoted some rules of the game. He said that the regulation bank at this Club was fixed at £50, an open bank at £1000. As a rule, the banks varied from £25 to £300, but were often larger. Mr. Wontner quoted a printed description of the game of baccarat, and submitted that it was purely a game of chance of a dangerous character, at which excessive gambling took place. Playing cards for amusement was not prohibited, but it was contended that excessive gambling was punishable by law.
Sir J. Ingham inquired as to the definition of the word "excessive." Mr. Wontner submitted that the Legislature had defined excessive gambling as criminal, while moderate gaming was not. So the proprietor of a place where excessive gaming was allowed, and who received the profits, was guilty of the offence at common law of keeping a gaming-house, and habitual users of the house were also liable.
An ordinary Club-house, where the profits went to the members, would be equally a gaming-house if excessive and habitual play were allowed.
Mr. Wontner quoted several decisions, and referred to various Acts dealing with gaming, dating from the reign of Henry VIII., when all games except archery were declared illegal. A subsequent Act repealed that Act, as far as games of skill went, but the old enactment still held as to games, and he contended that whether unlawful gaming went on in a house, the proprietor of which admitted members on payment of subscription, or whether it took place in an ordinary Club, the offence was just the same.
Inspector Swansen, of Scotland Yard, had had interviews with Jenks as to particulars respecting the Club. Jenks told him the Club was open in 1882, and he had bought the lease of the premises. He explained the game of baccarat. After two o'clock the banks were put up to auction. Each bank paid one per cent, and each player five shillings for card-money up to 2 a.m. After that time, five shillings until 5 a.m., when £1 an hour was charged, in order to make the game prohibitory. The profits so derived went to the proprietor. One per cent was also charged for cashing cheques. The rules of the Club prohibited the introduction of any stranger to the card-room. The profits realised were from the subscriptions and the card-money. The kitchen had been a loss, and wine and cigars were sold at cost price. On a subsequent occasion, Mr. Jenks told witness that members' cheques were cashed, and one per cent was charged as an insurance against bad cheques. He stated that he did not cash cheques beyond a reasonable amount, which he estimated at £300. In cross-examination by Mr. Russell, witness admitted that Jenks had given all information freely. The Club, of which he was the proprietor, consisted of from 200 to 300 members, comprising gentlemen well-known in society.
The night steward of the Park Club was called, and gave evidence as to the play in the card-room. Baccarat was not played there until Mr. Jenks took possession of the Club. Play began about 4.30 in the afternoon, and a break would be made about half-past seven for dinner, after which play was resumed and kept up till two, three, four, and sometimes eight o'clock in the morning. The average bank would be about £100.
After further evidence had been taken, and speeches made for and against the defendants, Sir James Ingham, in giving his decision on the summons, said that Jenks was substantially charged with keeping a house for unlawful gaming, and the other gentlemen were substantially charged with aiding and assisting him in doing so. The first question to determine was why and for what purpose Jenks kept this house open. Was it an ordinary Club at which gambling was casually introduced, or was it substantially a gaming-house? The question could be answered by the evidence, as the profits arising from the wines, spirits, and tobacco were admitted to be trifling, while the profits from food were absolutely nothing, the kitchen being carried on at a loss. The subscriptions received from 250 members at six guineas per year produced annually £1711, which was subjected to very large deductions for rent, taxes, etc. It must be clear to everybody that as a Club for social purposes, the business would not be worth the care and attention which it would require. What was the case with respect to gambling? Jenks received one per cent upon all banks, and contributions from all players who stayed after certain hours. Without going into particulars he calculated on consideration of the number of games that would be played ordinarily in the course of an evening, that Jenks must realise from £45 to £50 per night, and that his annual profits must be £10,000 to £12,000, or perhaps many thousands more. Therefore, no one could doubt that the house had been kept and used for the purpose of gambling, for its character as a social Club was absolutely ancillary to its business as a gambling-house. The statute, however, required that there should not only be gambling, but gambling at an unlawful game, and the main question was whether the game of baccarat was an unlawful game. It must be admitted that although a great many games had been prohibited by the Legislature, baccarat had not, and whether it was unlawful or not, must depend on other considerations. Baccarat appeared to be a game of chance, tempered by a certain amount of skill and judgment. Many games of mixed chance and skill might be innocently played. It was important to glance at the state of the old law. Sir J. Ingham then quoted from Baker's abridgment on the subject of gaming for recreation and common gaming-houses, "which promote cheating and other corrupt practices, and incite to idleness and avariciousness persons whose time might otherwise be employed to the general good of the community."
The principle to be extracted was that gaming productive of the above evils ought to be considered unlawful, and he (Sir James) considered that the game of baccarat was not "a game played for recreation, whereby a person is fitted for the ordinary duties of life." A great deal had been said upon the subject of large and excessive gambling, and the argument had been advanced that games which would be large and risky and excessive for a man who was in the position of a shop-keeper, would be nothing, trifles infinitesimal, in the eyes of a man of large property. Granted that was so, still there might be cases in which the law could be easily applied, and he thought this was one. Referring to the rules of the Park Club, which was to consist of noblemen, members of the learned professions, officers of the Army and Navy, and gentlemen, Sir James observed that a man at the game in question might lose, with consistent bad luck, £1000 before dinner, and a considerable sum in addition afterwards. Would there be any difficulty in saying that that was large and excessive gambling in the case of members of the learned professions, clergymen, bishops, great leading counsel of the day, or even judges with the largest salaries, physicians, and so forth? Gaming such as had been proved to exist would be large and excessive for any of those classes of men, and still more so for officers of the Army and Navy. He had no hesitation in saying, with reference to the gentlemen composing the Club at Mr. Jenks's house, that gaming had been large and excessive, and that it came within the principle of the law laid down by Chief Justice Abbot in the case of "King v. Rosier." But he considered the case did not stop there, and proceeded to refer at great length to the Act of Queen Anne, limiting gambling.
In conclusion, the learned Magistrate held that all the parties, with the exception of Mr. Dalton (secretary), had been guilty of gaming. He fined Mr. Jenks £500, the members of the committee £500, and each of the players £100.
Notice of appeal was given.
The appeal was brought on May 26 and 27, and in giving judgment, Sir Henry Hawkins (afterwards Lord Brampton), after saying that the facts were undisputed—there was no profit except on the gaming, though from the admirable printed rules one might well conclude that the Club was a sociable Club, where a gentleman might dine and have his rubber at whist, whilst not on any account allowed to gamble. The rules in question were, however, nightly disregarded, and looking at the nightly doings, it was impossible for any man in his senses to doubt that the house was really opened and kept for the purpose of gaming at the game of baccarat as its main and principal object.
He now had to consider the illegality of the gaming and not merely the illegality of the game—the common law did not prohibit the playing at cards and dice, which were not unlawful games, but the keeping of a common gaming-house was at common law an indictable offence.
Sir Henry Hawkins, after some comments on what constituted a gaming-house, went on to say that in his judgment it was not necessary for a gaming-house to be a public nuisance, which the Park Club was not:—a common gaming-house being itself a nuisance, though the gaming there was limited to the subscribers and members of the Club. The keeper of such a house could always admit or exclude whom he chose, and the committee elected whom they pleased, provided the list of members did not exceed 500. It might be 5000 and yet still not be a public, but a common gaming-house.
As to unlawful games—no games had been in so many words declared by name unlawful, though the Legislature intended to cover some games which, being lawful in themselves, were only unlawful when played in particular places or by particular persons. The Act of 1845 enacted that a house is proved to be a common gaming-house which is kept for playing any unlawful games and a bank is kept by one or more of the players, exclusively of the others, or where the chances of any game played are not alike favourable to all the players.
He divided unlawful games into two classes:
First, those absolutely forbidden by name, to the gaming at which a penalty is attached. This class included "ace of hearts," "pharaoh or faro," "basset," and "hazard," and any other game with a die or dice except backgammon.
Second, a number of games not altogether prohibited under penal consequences, nor declared to be altogether illegal, but which, nevertheless, have been declared unlawful by the Legislature, because the keeping of houses for playing them, and the play in them therein by anybody, were rendered illegal.
The unlawful games of the Acts of Henry VIII. were "bowls," "quoits," "dicing," "tennis," and "carding," most of which would seem to have been games of mere skill. The Acts in question were all repealed by 8 and 9 Vic.
The present unlawful games, then, were "ace of hearts," "faro," "basset," "hazard," "passage," "roulette," and every game of dice except backgammon, and every game of cards which was not a game of "mere skill." He was inclined to add any other game of "mere chance."
The question was, did "baccarat" come within this category?—the description of the game given by Mr. Russell satisfied him that it did.
Baccarat was a game of cards—a game of chance—and though, as in most other things, experience and judgment might make one player or banker more successful than another, it would be a perversion of words to say it was in any sense a game of mere skill. It was, therefore, in his opinion an unlawful game within the meaning of the statute.
It was said that it was a modern game—assuming it to be so, it was just what the Legislature intended to include in the phraseology of one unrepealed section of the law of Henry VIII., which mentioned "any new unlawful game hereafter to be invented."
With regard to excessive gaming since the repeal of the statutes of Anne and George II., he did not think excessive gaming at any game would in itself render the game unlawful, for excessive gaming per se was not any longer a legal offence. Nevertheless, though excessive gaming was no longer per se unlawful, the fact that it was habitually carried on in a house kept for the purpose of gaming was a cogent piece of evidence to be offered to a jury or other tribunal called on to determine whether a house was a common gaming-house so as to make the keeper of it liable to be indicted for a nuisance at common law.
Seeing that Mr. Jenks was the occupier and kept the house open for the purpose of gaming, at, amongst other games, baccarat, an unlawful game within the meaning of the Statute, he was of opinion that he was properly convicted.
As to the four members of the committee, the only question was whether these appellants had the care or management of the house—he thought they had—they could not but have been cognisant of the rules and of the true character of the Club. The second rule of the Club placed its internal management in their hands—he thought there was abundance of evidence to warrant their conviction.
As to the three players, he found no evidence that they did more than play at baccarat in the house, by which it might be that they somewhat enhanced the profits, but they took no part in the management. Adding to the profits was not a legal offence, as assistance in conducting the establishment was—the conviction with respect to the three players ought to be quashed.
Mr. Justice Smith followed, and his summing up entirely coincided with that of Sir Henry Hawkins. This lucid judgment is of considerable interest as affecting games played in English Clubs, and did much to clear up all ambiguity as to how far a Club might allow gambling. It put an end to all open baccarat, though the game was shortly afterwards played for a time at "The Field Club," near St. James's Street, an establishment which much resembled the defunct Park Club in its diversions, members, and methods, but the police soon interfered, and with its demise Club gambling at games of chance has become a thing of the past, except in the low dens of Soho, where faro intermittently calls for the intervention of the authorities. Police raids upon bogus Clubs mainly frequented by foreigners of a low class are often reported in the newspapers.
As regards respectable Clubs, a certain amount of bridge, usually for very moderate stakes, is indulged in, but gambling for high stakes is strongly discountenanced. Members inclined to indulge any tendencies in this direction generally do so elsewhere than in a Club. From time to time small Clubs in which there is some high play have sprung up and had a brief existence. When bridge first began to capture London, a bridge Club was started in the West End where very high stakes were the rule. It lasted but a short time, owing chiefly to the fact that a young and not very astute member lost a very large sum, which created considerable scandal and broke up the Club.
High bridge is now played in London mostly by wealthy people, well able to take care of themselves. The outcry raised some time ago about young girls being compelled to join in playing for large stakes is not based upon any solid foundation of truth, for as a rule high players are not fond of running the chance of drawing a novice as a partner. A bad player spoils the game.
Though there is practically no gambling in West-End Clubs, a good deal of baccarat and poker is occasionally played in private houses, ladies being not infrequently amongst the players, and here gaming assumes its most undesirable form. Temper as well as money is generally lost, whilst the winners are exposed to a by no means remote probability of never being paid. Private gambling is especially dangerous to young men, and without doubt a thousand times more harm is done by play of this sort than by all the properly conducted public tables in the world.