“19 Dec. 1750. Poor Lord Lempster is more Cerberus[28] than ever; (you remember his bon mot that proved such a blunder;) he has lost twelve thousand pounds at hazard, to an ensign of the guards.”
“23 Feb. 1755. The great event is the catastrophe of Sir John Bland, who has flirted away his whole fortune at hazard. He, t’other night, exceeded what was lost by the late Duke of Bedford, having, at one period of the night, (though he recovered the greatest part of it) lost two and thirty thousand pounds. The citizens put on their double channeled pumps, and trudge to St James’s Street, in expectation of seeing judgments executed on White’s—angels with flaming swords, and devils flying away with dice boxes, like the prints in Sadeler’s Hermits.[29] Sir John lost this immense sum to a Captain Scott,[30] who, at present, has nothing but a few debts and his commission.”
“20 Ap. 1756. I shall send you, soon, the fruits of my last party to Strawberry; Dick Edgecumbe, George Selwyn, and Williams were with me; we composed a coat of arms for the two clubs at White’s, which is actually engraving from a very pretty painting of Edgecumbe,[31] whom Mr Chute, as Strawberry King at Arms, has appointed our chief herald painter; here is the blazon:—
Vert (for card table), between three parolis proper, on a chevron table (for hazard table), two rouleaus in saltire, between two dice proper; in a canton, sable, a white ball (for election), argent.
Supporters, An old Knave of Clubs on the dexter, a young Knave on the sinister side; both accoutred proper.
Crest, Issuing out of an earl’s coronet (Lord Darlington) an arm shaking a dice box, all proper.
Motto (alluding to the crest), Cogit amor nummi. The arms encircled by a claret bottle ticket, by way of Order.”
“14 May 1761. Jemmy Lumley, last week, had a party of whist at his own house; the combatants, Lucy Southwell, that curtseys like a bear, Mrs Prijeau, and a Mrs Mackenzie. They played from six in the evening till twelve the next day; Jemmy never winning one rubber, and rising a loser of two thousand pounds. How it happened, I know not, nor why his suspicions arrived so late, but he fancied himself cheated, and refused to pay. However, the bear had no share in his evil surmises: on the contrary, a day or two afterwards, he promised a dinner at Hampstead to Lucy and her virtuous sister. As he went to the rendezvous, his chaise was stopped by somebody, who advised him not to proceed. Yet, no whit daunted, he advanced. In the garden, he found the gentle conqueress, Mrs Mackenzie, who accosted him in the most friendly manner. After a few compliments, she asked him if he did not intend to pay her. ‘No, indeed I shan’t, I shan’t; your servant, your servant.’ ‘Shan’t you,’ said the fair virago; and, taking a horsewhip from beneath her hoop, she fell upon him with as much vehemence as the Empress Queen would upon the King of Prussia, if she could catch him alone in the garden at Hampstead. Jemmy cried out Murder; his servants rushed in, rescued him from the jaws of the lioness, and carried him off in his chaise to town. The Southwells, who were already arrived, and descended, on the noise of the fray, finding nobody to pay for the dinner, and fearing they must, set out for London without it.”
“3 Dec. 1761. If you are acquainted with my Lady Barrymore, pray tell her that, in less than two hours, t’other night, the Duke of Cumberland lost four hundred and fifty pounds at Loo; Miss Pelham won three hundred, and I, the rest. However, in general, Loo is extremely gone to decay: I am to play at Princess Emily’s to-morrow, for the first time this winter; and it is with difficulty that she has made a party.”