The husband, after a long conflict in his bosom, between justice and mercy, tenderness and rage, resolved—on what is very seldom practised by an English husband—to pardon his wife, conceal her crime, and preserve her, if possible, from utter destruction. But the gates of mercy were opened in vain—the offender refused to receive forgiveness because she had offended. The lust of gambling had absorbed all her other desires. She gave herself up entirely to the infamous pursuit and its concomitants, whilst her husband sank by a quick decay, and died the victim of grief and anguish.(99)
(99) Doings in London.
Of other English gamestresses, however, nothing but the ordinary success or inconveniences of gambling are recorded. In the year 1776, a lady at the West End lost one night, at a sitting, 3000 guineas at Loo.(100) Again, a lady having won a rubber of 20 guineas from a city merchant, the latter pulled out his pocket-book, and tendered L21 in bank notes. The fair gamestress, with a disdainful toss of the head, observed—'In the great houses which I frequent, sir, we always use gold.' 'That may be, madam,' said the gentleman, 'but, in the LITTLE houses which I frequent, we always use paper.'
(100) Annual Register.
Goldsmith mentions an old lady in the country who, having been given over by her physician, played with the curate of the parish to pass the time away. Having won all his money, she next proposed playing for the funeral charges to which she would be liable. Unfortunately, the lady expired just as she had taken up the game!
A lady who was desperately fond of play was confessing herself. The priest represented, among other arguments against gaming, the great loss of time it occasioned. 'Ah!' said the lady, 'that is what vexes me—so much time lost in shuffling the cards!'
The celebrated Mrs Crewe seems to have been fond of gaming. Charles James Fox ranked among her admirers. A gentleman lost a considerable sum to this lady at play; and being obliged to leave town suddenly, he gave Fox the money to pay her, begging him to apologize to the lady for his not having paid the debt of honour in person. Fox unfortunately lost every shilling of it before morning. Mrs Crewe often met the supposed debtor afterwards, and, surprised that he never noticed the circumstance, at length delicately hinted the matter to him. 'Bless me,' said he, 'I paid the money to Mr Fox three months ago!' 'Oh, you did, sir?' said Mrs Crewe good-naturedly, 'then probably he paid me and I forgot it.'
This famous Mrs Crewe was the wife of Mr Crewe, who was created, in 1806, Lord Crewe. She was as remarkable for her accomplishments and her worth as for her beauty; nevertheless she permitted the admiration of the profligate Fox, who was in the rank of her admirers, and she was a gamestress, as were most of the grand ladies in those days. The lines Fox wrote on her were not exaggerated. They began thus:—
'Where the loveliest expression to features is join'd, By Nature's most delicate pencil design'd; Where blushes unhidden, and smiles without art, Speak the softness and feeling that dwell in the heart, Where in manners enchanting no blemish we trace, But the soul keeps the promise we had from the face; Sure philosophy, reason, and coldness must prove Defences unequal to shield us from love.'
'Nearly eight years after the famous election at Westminster, when she personally canvassed for Fox, Mrs Crewe was still in perfection, with a son one-and-twenty, who looked like her brother. The form of her face was exquisitely lovely, her complexion radiant. "I know not," Miss Burney writes, "any female in her first youth who could bear the comparison. She uglifies every one near her."