Coming back to the doings of my hero, it has to be stated with regard to Crockford that, although at one period he was in possession of a stud of race-horses, among the lot being Sultan, which made some mark on the turf, he never took a great amount of interest in the noble animal, preferring to regard it, like many other men, as an instrument of gambling; but the owner of the St. James' gambling-house was well versed in turf chicanery of all kinds, and knew in his day most of the prominent spirits of the racing world. The year in which Crockford saw his first Derby is not known, but in the course of his lifetime it is said he saw the race run on thirty-five consecutive occasions. Whether that be correct or not, it is certain that the Derby was a race in which he evinced great interest, and he was reputed to have landed more than one large stake on the winner of the Blue Ribbon. One year Crockford was the owner of a Derby favourite in Ratan, a horse which had made its mark as a two-year-old. Although the horse was very carefully watched, seeing that its owner had backed it to win an enormous sum of money, it was "got at," and it is supposed poisoned by means of arsenic introduced into its drinking trough.
Crockford started a house at Newmarket, which became an agreeable resort to those visitors to whom he offered hospitality, and he was no niggard in dispensing the good things of life at his table. Nor did he invite persons to his house so that, when heated with liquor, he might rob them at cards or dice. Crockford was then a betting man and bookmaker, laying or backing as he thought best for his own interest; and his visitors, to use a slang phrase, were "as fly as he was." They were not all spiders who walked into his Newmarket parlour, his visitors were known to have, on many occasions, their pockets well stuffed with crisp Bank of England notes. Another feature of Crockford's behaviour helped him to connection and wealth; when he lost he never required to be asked for money, he was a prompt payer; nor did he, when he was reputed to be rolling in wealth, ever forget himself, he was invariably polite and courteous. The devil, indeed, never was so black as he has been painted, and Crockford, gambler though he was, was not the fiend that some writers described him as being. As well as being a betting man and the keeper of a hell, Crockford was also a keen operator on the Stock Exchange; but on that stage of speculation he generally came to grief, and much of the cash made in St. James's Street was paid away to the stockbrokers. Another branch of turf business which Crockford conducted at one time was that of "squaring" the books of smaller betting men than himself; he could always be relied upon, even at the last moment—that is, immediately before a race—to lay the odds against such horses as a bookmaker was "bad" against, and required therefore to back back again, so as not to run greater risk than was compatible with an honest desire to meet engagements, and pay what was seen to be due after the race was determined.
The palatial gaming club erected by Crockford was at one time looked upon as one of the wonders of London; two or three houses had been knocked down to provide a site for it, and no expense was spared to render it commodious and luxurious, and make it attractive to visitors, who were waited upon by footmen in gorgeous liveries, and had their palates tickled by the gastronomic delicacies of Monsieur Ude. There were over eight hundred members, and the house was placed under the management of a committee, to whom Crockford conceded all they asked. Gambling, as a matter of course, was the business or recreation of all who came to the place; figuratively speaking, the rattle of the dice was heard morning, noon, and night, thousands of pounds changing hands as if they were so many halfpence. "Crockford's" cost an enormous sum of money; the building of it, I have been told, was carried on regardless of expense by night as well as by day. All its appointments were sumptuous, the cellars were filled with the finest of wines, and the culinary arrangements were for months the talk of the town.
Much capital has from time to time been drawn by philanthropic gentlemen out of what took place at "Crockford's," when the amounts at stake were practically unlimited, a bank of £10,000 being put down every evening at about eleven o'clock, the chief game of the house being French hazard. Play of some kind was always, however, going forward in every room of the large establishment, which was lit by hundreds of wax candles all night long. Sad pictures have been painted of the ruin that overtook men in the St. James' club-house; but many of these men who went there were simply fools who brought on their own fate, and who, had they not been ruined at Crockford's, would have been ruined in some other hell. There were plenty of such places, and although public gambling-houses are now not tolerated, it is quite certain that card-playing goes on nightly in all the clubs in London, and that in several of them large sums of money are lost and won. Crockford was not in any degree worse than his neighbours, and no one has ventured to say that undue advantage of any kind was ever taken of the persons who frequented his house by the proprietor or his servants. It should be kept in mind as well that visitors to Crockford's went there to try and obtain his money, and if in doing so they lost their own, they scarcely require to be sympathised with.
It is not my intention to defend gambling, or to become the apologist of Crockford, but such matters should be looked straight in the face, because, if there be sin in the matter, it is unfortunately of universal occurrence and among all classes of society; but surely it is not more sinful to stake one's sovereign on the turning up of a particular card than it is to do so on the rise or fall of the stock of a particular railway, or the loan bonds of some foreign country.
RACING ROGUERIES.
I.
"The turf is so beset with knaves that when you go racing you are robbed when you least expect to be robbed, and that too by men whom you would least expect to rob you."