Crockford was indicted on several occasions, and by different persons, for his share in the nuisance of the public gaming-house in King Street; but his policy always led him to a settlement of the matter with the prosecutor, in preference to the risk of imprisonment and the treadmill.
On one occasion an indictment was preferred, and a true bill found against him and others, for keeping the before-mentioned house; and it was not without difficulty and delay, creative of direful alarm, that the matter could be arranged so as to prevent the parties being brought to trial.
The prosecutor was a person known as Baron d’A——, who formerly held a commission in the German Legion. This gentleman had been desperate, and, of course, unfortunate in his speculation at rouge et noir; and, at last, lost not only his pay, but the proceeds of the sale of his commission. Thus reduced, he became equally desperate in determination, and occasionally made demands and levied contributions from the parties who had won from him, but, compliance with such demands becoming less frequent and less willing, he resorted to the process of indictment, and made Crockford one of the objects of his attack. On the true bill being found, Crockford put in the necessary bail; between the period of which and the day appointed for trial, communication was opened with the baron, with a view to amicable settlement and non-appearance of the prosecutor on the day of trial; but in the negotiation Crockford’s party relied too much on the poverty and distress of the baron, believing that the griping hand of necessity would oblige him to accept any offered sum to relieve his wants. Under such belief an inconsiderable amount was tendered, but refused. The baron had, fortunately for him, met with a shrewd adviser, who persuaded him to hold out against any overtures short of a handsome consideration; and he did so, notwithstanding the fact that a considerable advance had been made on the original sum offered to him.
The eve of trial approached, and Crockford’s alarm was great. At length came the eventful day of his appearance at Clerkenwell Sessions. What was to be done? Incarceration and hard labour stared him in the face, and with them all the evil consequences connected with his absence from his newly established club.
In this dilemma he sought the advice and active service of Guy, his principal acting man in St James’s Street. This man accompanied Crockford to the scene of trial, and, discovering the baron in the precinct of the Court, contrived to get into friendly conversation with him, a scheme which led to some judicious hints on the impolicy of his longer holding out against the liberal offer which he (Guy) had now the authority to make from Crockford. Fortunately for the latter the indictment was low down in the list of the day’s business, and this gave opportunity to Guy to proceed more leisurely in his designs. He prevailed on the baron to accompany him to a tavern in the neighbourhood, and there, under the influence of copious draughts of wine, an arrangement was ultimately effected. The proposal, once entertained by the baron, was not left to the chance of change, nor was the baron permitted to consult with his adviser in the matter; time was precious, the cause was approaching its hearing, and at this crisis Guy called a coach, took from his pocket a tempting sum, hurried the baron into the vehicle, gave him the money, and never left him until he had seen him on board a vessel bound for a foreign country.
At the commencement of the season 1821-22, luck went against Crockford’s gaming establishment, and night after night their capital decreased, so that, at last, it was with difficulty they could supply the funds requisite for the night’s bank. One night, their last £5000 was scraped together, and they were all on wires; for an hour after play had commenced £3000 had flown away. Crockford could stand it no longer; he left the house, meditating whether he should hang or drown himself: but scarcely was his back turned than the run of luck changed, and, within two hours, the bank had not only recovered their night’s loss, but a good round sum besides. For the remainder of the season Fortune was in their favour, and, at its close, the proprietors had netted over £200,000.
Crockford began building his new club house in St James’s Street in 1827, and workmen were engaged on it day and night. A huge ice house was dug which so affected the Guard’s club house, which adjoined the northern end of Crockford’s premises, that one entire side of it fell with a crash, leaving the entire interior completely exposed to the public gaze. There are two bon mots on the subject, preserved.
“‘What can the workmen be about?
Do, Crockford, let the secret out,
Why thus our houses fall.
Quoth he, ‘Since folks are out of town,
I find it better to pull down,