Philosophers may argue, and moralists preach, the former against the folly, and the latter against the wickedness of gambling, but, as may be expected, their remonstrances pass but as a gentle breeze over the outwardly placid ocean of play, causing the fishes—the familiars of the gambling world—languidly to raise their heads, and mildly to inquire: 'What's all that row about?' Gambling is one of the strongest passions in the human breast, and no warning, no exhibition of fatal examples, will ever stop the indulgence in the excitement it procures. It assumes many phases; in all men have undergone disastrous experiences, and yet they repeat the dangerous and usually calamitous experiments. In no undertaking has so much money been lost as in mining; prizes have occasionally been drawn, but at such rare intervals as to be cautions rather than encouragements; and yet, even at the present day, with all the experience of past failures, sanguine speculators fill empty shafts with their gold, which is quickly fished up by the greedy promoters.
Some of the now most respectable West End clubs originally were only gambling-hells. They are not so now; but the improvement this would seem to imply is apparent only. Our manners have improved, but not our morals; the table-legs wear frilled trousers now, but the legs are there all the same, even the blacklegs. But it is the past more than the present we wish to speak of.
Early in the last century gaming was so prevalent that in one night's search the Leet's Jury of Westminster discovered, and afterwards presented to the justices, no fewer than thirty-five gambling-houses. The Society for the Reformation of Manners published a statement of their proceedings, by which it appeared that in the year beginning with December 1, 1724, to the same date in 1725, they had prosecuted 2,506 persons for keeping disorderly and gaming houses; and for thirty-four years the total number of their prosecutions amounted to the astounding figure of 91,899. In 1728 the following note was issued by the King's order: 'It having been represented to his Majesty that such felons and their accomplices are greatly encouraged and harboured by persons keeping night-houses ... and that the gaming-houses ... much contribute to the corruption of the morals of those of an inferior rank ... his Majesty has commanded me to recommend it, in his name, in the strongest manner to the Justices of the Peace to employ their utmost care and vigilance in the preventing and suppressing of these disorders, etc.'
This warning was then necessary, though as early as 1719 an order for putting in execution an old statute of Henry VIII. had been issued to all victuallers, and others whom it might concern. The order ran: 'That none shall keep or maintain any house or place of unlawful games, on pain of 40s. for every day, of forfeiting their recognisance, and of being suppressed; that none shall use or haunt such places, on pain of 6s. 8d. for every offence; and that no artificer, or his journeyman, husbandman, apprentice, labourer, mariner, fisherman, waterman, or serving-man shall play at tables, tennis, dice, cards, bowls, clash, coiting, loggating, or any other unlawful game, out of Christmas, or then out of their master's house or presence, on pain of 20s.'
There were thus many attempts at controlling the conduct of the lower orders, but the gentry set them a bad example. The Cocoa-Tree Club, the Tory chocolate-house of Queen Anne's reign, at No. 64, St. James's Street, was a regular gambling-hell. In the evening of a Court Drawing-room in 1719, a number of gentlemen had a dispute over hazard at that house; the quarrel became general, and, as they fought with their swords, three gentlemen were mortally wounded, and the affray was only ended by the interposition of the Royal Guards, who were compelled to knock the parties down with the butt-ends of their muskets indiscriminately, as entreaties and commands were disregarded. Walpole, in his correspondence, relates: 'Within this week there has been a cast at hazard at the Cocoa-Tree, the difference of which amounted to £180,000. Mr. O'Birne, an Irish gamester, had won £100,000 of a young Mr. Harvey, of Chigwell, just started from a midshipman into an estate by his elder brother's death. O'Birne said: "You can never pay me." "I can," said the youth; "my estate will sell for the debt." "No," said O'Birne, "I will win £10,000; you shall throw for the odd £90,000." They did, and Harvey won.' It is not on record whether he took the lesson to heart. The house was, in 1746, turned into a club, but its reputation was not improved; bribery, high play, and foul play continued to be common in it.
Another chocolate-house was White's, now White's Club, St. James's Street. As a chocolate-house it was established about 1698, near the bottom of the west side of St. James's Street; it was burnt down in 1773. Plate VI. of Hogarth's 'Rake's Progress' shows a room full of players at White's, so intent upon play as neither to see the flames nor hear the watchmen bursting into the room. It was indeed a famous gambling and betting club, a book for entering wagers always lying on the table; the play was frightful. Once a man dropped down dead at the door, and was carried in; the club immediately made bets whether he was dead or only in a fit; and when they were going to bleed him the wagerers for his death interposed, saying it would affect the fairness of the bet. Walpole, who tells the story, hints that it is invented. Many a highwayman—one is shown in Hogarth's picture above referred to—there took his chocolate or threw his main before starting for business. There Lord Chesterfield gamed; Steele dated all his love news in the Tatler from White's, which was known as the rendezvous of infamous sharpers and noble cullies, and bets were laid to the effect that Sir William Burdett, one of its members, would be the first baronet who would be hanged. The gambling went on till dawn of day; and Pelham, when Prime Minister, was not ashamed to divide his time between his official table and the piquet table at White's. General Scott was a very cautious player, avoiding all indulgence in excesses at table, and thus managed to win at White's no less than £200,000, so that when his daughter, Joanna, married George Canning he was able to give her a fortune of £100,000.
Another club founded specially for gambling was Almack's, the original Brooks's, which was opened in Pall Mall in 1764. Some of its members were Macaronis, the fops of the day, famous for their long curls and eye-glasses. 'At Almack's,' says Walpole, 'which has taken the pas of White's ... the young men of the age lose £10,000, £15,000, £20,000 in an evening.' The play at this club was only for rouleaux of £50 each, and generally there was £10,000 in gold on the table. The gamesters began by pulling off their embroidered clothes, and put on frieze garments, or turned their coats inside out for luck. They put on pieces of leather to save their lace ruffles; and to guard their eyes from the light, and to prevent tumbling their hair, wore high-crowned straw hats with broad brims, and sometimes masks to conceal their emotions. Almack's afterwards was known as the 'Goose-Tree' Club—a rather significant name—and Pitt was one of its most constant frequenters, and there met his adherents. Gibbon also was a member, when the club was still Almack's—which, indeed, was the name of the founder and original proprietor of the club.
Another gaming-club was Brooks's, which at first was formed by Almack and afterwards by Brooks, a wine-merchant and money-lender. The club was opened in 1778, and some of the original rules are curious: '21. No gaming in the eating-room, except tossing up for reckonings, on penalty of paying the whole bill of the members present. 30. Any member of this society that shall become a candidate for any other club (old White's excepted) shall be ipso facto excluded. 40. Every person playing at the new quinze-table shall keep fifty guineas before him. 41. Every person playing at the twenty-guinea table shall keep no less than twenty guineas before him.' According to Captain Gronow, play at Brooks's was even higher than at White's. Faro and macao were indulged in to an extent which enabled a man to win or to lose a considerable fortune in one night. George Harley Drummond, a partner in the bank of that name, played only once in his life at White's, and lost £20,000 to Brummell. This event caused him to retire from the banking-house. Lord Carlisle and Charles Fox lost enormous sums at Brooks's.
At Tom's Coffee House, in Russell Street, Covent Garden, there was playing at piquet, and the club consisting of seven hundred noblemen and gentlemen, many of whom belonged to the gay society of that day (the middle of the last century), we may be sure the play was high.
Arthur's Club, in St. James's Street, so named after its founder (who died in 1761), was a famous gambling centre in its day. A nobleman of the highest position and influence in society was detected in cheating at cards, and after a trial, which did not terminate in his favour, he died of a broken heart. This happened in 1836.