Lady Sarah Bunbury, writing to George Selwyn, in 1767, says:—'If you are now at Paris with poor C. (evidently Carlisle), who I dare say is now swearing at the French people, give my compliments to him. I call him poor C. because I hope he is only miserable at having been such a PIGEON to Colonel Scott. I never can pity him for losing at play, and I think of it as little as I can, because I cannot bear to be obliged to abate the least of the good opinion I have always had of him.'
Oddly enough the writer had no better account to give of her own husband; she says, in the letter:—'Sir Charles games from morning till night, but he has never yet lost L100 in one day.'(122)
(122) This Lady Sarah Bunbury was the wife of Sir Charles Bunbury, after having had a chance of being Queen of England, as the wife of George III., who was passionately in love with her, and would have married her had it not been for the constitutional opposition of his privy council. This charming and beautiful woman died in 1826, at the age of 82. She was probably the last surviving great-granddaughter of Charles II.—Jesse, Ubi supra.
About the year 1776 Lord Carlisle wrote the following letter to George Selwyn:—
'MY DEAR GEORGE, 'I have undone myself, and it is to no purpose to conceal from you my abominable madness and folly, though perhaps the particulars may not be known to the rest of the world. I never lost so much in five times as I have done to-night, and am in debt to the house for the whole. You may be sure I do not tell you this with an idea that you can be of the least assistance to me; it is a great deal more than your abilities are equal to. Let me see you—though I shall be ashamed to look at you after your goodness to me.'
This letter is endorsed by George Selwyn—'After the loss of L10,000.' He tells Selwyn of a set which, at one point of the game, stood to win L50,000.
'Lord Byron, it is almost needless to remark, was nearly related to Lord Carlisle. The mother of Lord Carlisle was sister to John, fourth Lord Byron, the grandfather of the poet; Lord Carlisle and Lord Byron were consequently first cousins once removed. Had they happened to have been contemporaries, it would be difficult to form an idea of two individuals who, alike from tastes, feelings, and habits of life, were more likely to form a lasting and suitable intimacy. Both were men of high rank; both united an intimate knowledge of society and the world with the ardent temperament of a poet; and both in youth mingled a love of frolic and pleasure with a graver taste for literary pursuits.'
CHARLES JAMES FOX.
In the midst of the infatuated votaries of the gaming god in England, towers the mighty intellectual giant Charles James Fox. Nature had fashioned him to be equally an object of admiration and love. In addition to powerful eloquence, he was distinguished by the refinement of his taste in all matters connected with literature and art; he was deeply read in history; had some claims to be regarded as a poet; and possessed a thorough knowledge of the classical authors of antiquity, a knowledge of which he so often and so happily availed himself in his seat in the House of Commons. To these qualities was added a good-humour which was seldom ruffled,—a peculiar fascination of manner and address,—the most delightful powers of conversation,—a heart perfectly free from vindictiveness, ostentation, and deceit,—a strong sense of justice,—a thorough detestation of tyranny and oppression,—and an almost feminine tenderness of feeling for the sufferings of others. Unfortunately, however, his great talents and delightful qualities in private life rendered his defects the more glaring and lamentable; indeed, it is difficult to think or speak with common patience of those injurious practices and habits—that abandonment to self-gratification, and that criminal waste of the most transcendent abilities which exhausted in social conviviality and the gaming table what were formed to confer blessings on mankind.
So much for the character of Fox, as I have gathered from Mr Jesse;(123) and I continue the extremely interesting subject by quoting from that delightful book, 'The Queens of Society.'(124) 'With a father who had made an enormous fortune, with little principle, out of a public office—for Lord Holland owed the bulk of his wealth to his appointment of paymaster to the forces,—and who spoiled him, in his boyhood, Charles James Fox had begun life AS A FOP OF THE FIRST WATER, and squandered L50,000 in debt before he became of age. Afterwards he indulged recklessly and extravagantly in every course of licentiousness which the profligate society of the day opened to him. At Brookes' and the Thatched House Fox ate and drank to excess, threw thousands upon the Faro table, mingled with blacklegs, and made himself notorious for his shameless vices. Newmarket supplied another excitement. His back room was so incessantly filled with Jew money-lenders that he called it his Jerusalem Chamber. It was impossible that such a life should not destroy every principle of honour; and there is nothing improbable in the story that he appropriated to himself money which belonged to his dear friend Mrs Crewe, as before related.