Tallyho had already heard so much about Hells, Gambling-houses, and Subscription-houses, that he was all anxiety for an interior view, and the same feeling animated Mortimer. As they were about to enter, they were not a little surprised to find that houses which are spoken of so publicly, have in general the appearance of private dwellings, with the exception that the hall-door is left ajar during the hours usually devoted to play, like those of trap-cages, to catch the passing pigeons, and to obviate the delay which might be occasioned by the necessity of knocking—a delay which might expose the customers to the glances of an unsuspecting creditor—a confiding father, or a starving wife; and, as Merrywell observed, “It was to be understood that the entrance was well guarded, and that no gentleman could be permitted to risk or lose his money, without an introduction.” A very necessary precaution to obviate the danger of being surprised by the officers of the law; but that rule is too easily to be broken, for any gentleman whom the door-keeper has sufficient reason to think is not an Officer of Justice, finds the avenues to these labyrinths too ready for his admission.
On passing the outer-door, they found themselves impeded by a second, and a third, and each door constructed with a small spy-hole, exhibiting the ball of a ruffian's eye, intently gazing on and examining their figures. It is necessary to observe, that if the visitor is known to be a fair pigeon, or an old crow, he is at once admitted by these gentlemen, and politely bowed up stairs; and as Merrywell appeared to be well known, no obstruction was offered, and they proceeded through the last, which was an iron door, and were shewn directly into the room, which presented a scene of dazzling astonishment.
On entering, they discovered the votaries of gaming around an oblong table, covered with green cloth, and the priests of the ceremony in the centre, one to deal cards and decide events, and another to assist him in collecting the plunder which should follow such decisions. Being engaged in the play, but little notice was taken of the arrival of the party, except by two or three eagle-eyed gentlemen, who, perceiving there were some New-comes{1}
1. Newcomes—The name given to any new faces discovered among the usual visitants.
and always keeping business in view, made up to Merrywell, began to be very talkative—was happy to see him—hoped he had been well—and congratulated him on the introduction of his friends—took snuff, and handed the box round with all the appearance of unaffected friendship.
“These,” said Tom Dashall to his Cousin, drawing him on one side, “are the Proprietors{1} of this concern;
1 In order that the class of men by whom houses of this description are generally kept, and to shew the certainty they have of accumulating riches, as well as to guard the young and inexperienced against being decoyed, it may not be amiss to animadvert upon a few of the most prominent and well known. No. 7, Pall Mall, is kept by B——l, who has been a public and noted gambler for these forty years, and is generally termed the Father of the Houses. He was at one time a poor man, but now, by his honest earnings, is in possession of some tens of thousands. It is said that he was originally a stable-boy, and, in process of time, arose to be a jobber in horse-flesh, but has at length feathered his nest with pigeons down. No. 77, St. James's Street, nick-named the Two Sevens, kept by Messrs. T. C. C. T. is a well-known House, where things are conducted with great civility and attention, and the best possible treatment may generally be relied upon, though they are rather sparing of refreshments, and apt to grumble if a customer has a run of good luck. A Prussian Officer, however, not long ago, kick'd up a devil of a row about losing a very large sum of money; but it is scarcely necessary to add it was all in vain, for there was no redress. The produce of this Bank, (which Paddy B—— calls the Devil's Exchequer, whence you can draw neither principal nor interest,) furnishes elegant houses and equipages, both in town and country, and, it is possible, may one day or other send a Member to Parliament, or a General to the field. No. 10, King Street, St. James's, is conducted by old and young D——s L——r; the father is too old in iniquity to remember his progress from poverty to affluence. No. 5, King-street, is kept by Mr. A——l; the former residing at No. 3, Leicester-place, the latter No. 3,—— Street; and both live in prime style. The former, in his youth, was an errand boy, and he became so willing in doing little jobs, that his employers have paid him most handsomely. The latter gentleman, who may be seen frequently driving a dennet, and looking both sides of the road at once, is a chip of the old block: but as it is not our intention to visit the sins of the sou upon the father, we shall not enter into a minute examination of him. No. 6, in Bury-street, is only about a year's standing. This table was set up by a broken adventurer, Capt. B——, with Mr. ——, a jeweller, and a man whose agents keep a house of ill fame, no way inferior in attribute to his house in Bury-street. They commenced with narrow funds, and now, thank the gulls, are independent. The next door, No. 7, is held by M——g, a map-seller, living at Charing Cross; Carl—s, formerly an under- strapper at Ben—t's, living at King's Road, Chelsea; H——ll, a tallow-chandler, living at No. 8, Bury-street; and his brother, a brick-layer, residing somewhere off Grosvenor Place. These fellows have carried on their depredations for some time, but now have closed for awhile, being one of the houses against whom a Jew, named Portugal John, and another named the Young Black Diamond, have commenced proceedings, for sums had and received, and by indictment. No. 28, in the same street, is the property of one O—— d, formerly a menial servant, and not long ago a porter to B——l. These examples shew by incontestible inference, that the keepers of those tables have an advantage, which renders their success certain, while it fleeces the men who attend them. We always have seen these Proprietors in the same unchangeable affluence, driving their equipages, keeping their country houses, &c. &c. while those who play invariably sink into poverty. It has been often—very often remarked, that young men who commence this career of folly and vice, by degrees lose that freshness and fashionable appearance which they at first possessed, and at last are seen wandering about St. James's Park counting the trees, and dining on a gravel hash, for want of more genial fare, in a threadbare coat, half-polished boots, a greasy hat, and a dirty cravat; while the plunderers of their happiness and property are driving by them in luxury, enjoying their pleasure by contrast with their victim, and sneering at his miseries. Of all the vices which deform this Metropolis (and there are not a few) the most ruinous is that of Rouge et Noir gambling, for that is practised in the day time, and it is a matter of astonishment to think that it has remained undisturbed by the law, and hitherto unnoticed by the Press. At this moment no less than twelve of these Hells are open to the public in the noon-day; and no less than five or six profane the Sabbath by their sinful practices. Although London has been, time out of mind, infested with the imps of play, yet it was not until within these last ten or fifteen years that they dared open their dens to the honest light of day. About that period, or a very short time before, Rouge et Noir was imported, amongst other fashionable things, from France; and to this game we are indebted for the practice of gambling in the day-light. It is impossible to put down the vice of Gaming wholly, and not all the various enactments of the legislature against it have succeeded; but that the ruinous and infamous practice of indulging that vice in the midst of crowded day should be suffered, for upwards of sixteen years, in the centre of British society, when it can easily be suppressed, calls forth our wonder, and gives a stronger proof to us that our Societies for the Suppression of Vice, &c. &c. are shadows with a name. When the Hazard tables open, it is at an hour when the respectable and controlled youths of London are within the walls of their homes; few are abroad except the modern man of ton, the rake, the sot, the robber, and the vagabond; and the dangers of gaming on these orders of society is little indeed, when compared with the baneful effects of that vice upon the mercantile youth of London. It is to this class, and to the youth of the middling orders of society, that gaming is destructive, and it is upon these that the Rouge et Noir tables cast the most fatal influence. Young men of this order cannot in general be absent from their families after midnight, the hour when the nocturnal Hells formerly yawned upon their victims; but now the introduction of Rouge et Noir has rendered the abominable track of play a morning and evening's lounge, set forth in all the false glare which the artful proprietors can invent to deceive the thoughtless; and thus it affords opportunities and temptations to such youth almost irresistible. When the glittering of London pleasures first meets the eye of a young man placed upon the road of a mercantile life, or when he enters any of the multifarious departments in the machine of society which always lead the industrious and prudent to honourable emolument, he too frequently misconceives the fashionable gamester's character, and confounds his crimes with elegant accomplishments. The road to pleasure is broad, and the gates of these Hells are open to him at hours when he can be absent, and can indulge his whim without suspicion—for at first he looks upon his new enjoyment but a mere whim, which he can abandon at any moment. But how different is the proof! He goes on—his new made wings carry him through a region of delight, and he believes himself to possess the powers of the eagle—still lighter he ascends, and the solid earth on which he formerly trod in safety, recedes immeasurably from his giddy eye—at length his wings prove wax, they melt before the sun, and the victim of his own folly tumbles into the abyss of destruction. It is no uncommon thing, nay, we will positively declare it to be a very frequent practice of these misled young men, when they have been initiated, and have the temporary command of money belonging to their employers, to go to the Rouge et Noir tables, armed (as they think) with impenetrable armour—a large sum; and, in the hope of profiting to a certain amount, risk that property, the loss of which would be the loss of every thing dear to them in society. They believe, from the greatness of the amount they possess, that they can command a small gain, and not for a moment doubt they will be able to replace or return the money entrusted to their care; but little do they know the fickleness of luck, and less do they suspect the odds and imposing roguery arrayed against them. Their first loss is trifling, but they have to win that back iu addition to their expected profits; for this purpose they stake a larger sum, which, if they lose, increases their task, and so on, until the half-frantic victims see no hope but desperation, and their remaining stock is placed upon the chance of a single card. The event closes, and the man who yesterday enjoyed the good opinion of the world, and the esteem and confidence of his friends, to-day becomes the veriest outcast of society! These are common cases, one of which, for example, we will describe as the facts occurred:—In the year 1816, a Clerk, possessing the highest reputation, became a frequenter of a Rouge et Noir table. From the nature of his employment, he had daily the command of large sums, which, for a short time, he risked at play successfully. One day, however, he brought with him his employer's money, to the amount of 1700L. the whole of which, in two days, he lost. We may judge of the unhappy young man's feelings by his subsequent conduct. He wrote a confession of the affair to the man he wronged, retired to a tavern, and blew his brains out! These gaming-tables open at half-past twelve o'clock, continue their orgies until five, and recommence at seven in the evening. How many young men are passing their doors at these hours with the property of others in their pockets!— and what a temptation to risk it! It would seem as if these places were set up as shops designed chiefly for the accommodation of mid-day dealers in ill-fortune, as if levelled directly at those men who cannot or will not spend their nights in gambling; and how the proprietors contrive to escape detection and punishment is surprising, considering that the law affords ample means to put them down.
they know their customers, and place themselves here to watch the progress of their gains. Their attentions are always directed to the new-comers. Remorseless, avaricious, and happy—unmarked with the lines of care, which contract and deform the faces of their victims, “They smile and smile, and murder while they smile.” They will explain the fairness of the game, and tell you of the great losses they have sustained; but as this is no place for explanation, we must look on and say nothing.”