The History of Gambling in England

by John Ashton

“The inferior houses of play are always situated in obscure courts, or other places of retirement, and, most frequently, are kept shut up during the day as well as at night, as if unoccupied, or some appearance of trade is carried on as a blind. A back room is selected for all operations, if one can be procured sufficiently capacious for the accommodation of forty or fifty persons at one time. In the centre of the room is fixed a substantial circular table, immoveable to any power of pressure against it by the company who go to play; a circle of inlaid white holly wood is formed in the middle of the table of about four feet diameter, and a lamp is suspended immediately over this ring. A man, designated the Groom Porter, is mounted on a stool, with a stick in his hand, having a transverse piece of wood affixed to its end, which is used by him to rake in the dice after having been thrown out of the box by the caster (the person who throws the dice).

“The avowed profits of keeping a table of this kind is the receipt of a piece for each box hand,—that is, when a player wins three times successively, he pays a certain sum to the table, and there is an aperture in the table made to receive these contributions. At the minor establishments, the price of a box hand varies from a shilling to half-a-crown, according to the terms on which the house is known to have been originally opened. If there is much play, these payments produce ample profits to the keeper of the house; but their remuneration for running the risk of keeping an unlawful table of play, is plunder.

“At all these houses, as at the higher ones, there is always a set of men who are dependent on the keepers of the house, who hang about the table like sharks for prey, waiting for those who stay late, or are inebriated, and come in towards morning to play when there are but few lookers on; unfair means are then resorted to with impunity, and all share the plunder. About eleven o’clock, when all honest and regular persons are preparing for rest, the play commences, the adventurers being seated around the table: one takes the box and dice, putting what he is disposed to play for into the ring marked on the table; as soon as it is covered with a like sum, or set, as it is termed, by another person, the player calls a main, and at the same moment throws the dice; if the number called comes up, the caster wins; but if any other main comes uppermost on the dice the thrower takes that chance for his own, and his adversary has the one he called; the throwing then continues, during which bets are made by others on the event until it is decided. If the caster throws deuce ace, or aces, when he first calls a main, it is said to be crabbed, and he loses; but if he throws the number named he is said to have nicked it, and thereby wins it. Also, if he should call six or eight, and throws the double sixes he wins; or, if seven be the number called, and eleven is thrown, it is a nick, because those chances are nicks to these mains; which regulation is necessary to the equalisation of all the chances of this game when calling a main. The odds against any number being thrown against another varies from two to one to six to five, and, consequently, keeps all the table engaged in betting. All bets are staked, and the noise occasioned by proposing and accepting wagers is most uproarious and deafening among the low players, each having one eye on the black spots marked on the dice as they land from the box, and the other on the stakes, ready to snatch it if successful. To prevent the noise being heard in the streets, shutters, closely fitted to the window frames, are affixed, which are padded and covered with green baize: there is, invariably, an inner door placed in the passage, having an aperture in it, through which all who enter the door from the street may be viewed; this precaution answers two purposes, it deadens the sound of noisy voices at the table and prevents surprise by the officers of justice.

“The generality of the minor gambling houses are kept by prize-fighters and other desperate characters, who bully and hector the more timid out of their money by deciding that bets have been lost, when, in fact, they have been won. Bread, cheese and beer are supplied to the players, and a glass of gin is handed, when called for, gratis. To these places thieves resort, and such other loose characters as are lost to every feeling of honesty and shame: a table of this nature in full operation is a terrific sight; all the bad passions appertaining to the vicious propensities of mankind are portrayed on the countenances of the players.

“An assembly of the most horrible demons could not exhibit a more appalling effect; recklessness and desperation overshadow every noble trait which should enlighten the countenance of a human being. Many, in their desperation, strip themselves, on the spot, of their clothes, either to stake against money or to pledge to the table keeper for a trifle to renew their play: and many instances occur of men going home half naked, having lost their all.

“They assemble in parties of from forty to fifty persons, who probably bring, on an average, each night, from one to twenty shillings to play with. As the money is lost the players depart, if they cannot borrow or beg more; and this goes on sometimes in the winter season, for fourteen to sixteen hours in succession; so that from 100 to 140 persons may be calculated to visit one gambling table in the course of a night; and it not unfrequently happens that, ultimately, all the money brought to the table gets into the hands of one or two of the most fortunate adventurers, save that which is paid to the table for box hands; whilst the losers separate only to devise plans by which a few more shillings may be procured for the next night’s play. Every man so engaged is destined either to become, by success, a more finished and mischievous gambler, or to appear at the bar of the Old Bailey, where, indeed, most of them may be said to have figured already.

“The successful players, by degrees, improve their external appearance, and obtain admission into houses of higher play, where 2s. 6d. or 3s. 4d. is demanded for the box hands. At these places silver counters are used, representing the aliquot parts of a pound; these are called pieces, one of which is a box hand. If success attends them in the first step of advancement, they next become initiated into Crown houses, and associate with gamblers of respectable exterior; where, if they show talents, they either become confederates in forming schemes of plunder, and in aiding establishments to carry on their concerns in defiance of the law, or fall back to their old station of playing chicken hazard, as the small play is designated.”

And so things went on for ten years longer, until the scandal was too grievous to be borne, and a Select Committee sat in Parliament, in 1844, on the subject of gaming. This was principally brought about by the revelations in the case of Smith v. Bond, which was tried before Lord Abinger and a special jury at the Middlesex Sittings after Michaelmas Term, 1842. It was a common gaming-house case brought under the statute of Anne (9th, c. 14), which was enacted to repress excessive gaming.

The parish of St George’s, Hanover Square, swarmed with hells, and the efforts of the parish officers had hitherto been unable to put them down. The play at such houses was notoriously unfair, and the keepers had thriven in proportion to the number and wealth of the victims they had been able to fleece. It was therefore resolved to bring an action under this statute, which not only prohibits excessive gaming, but enables the loser of above £10 at a sitting, to recover treble the amount of his losses; or, if he does not choose to take this course himself, any informer is enabled to sue for and obtain the penalty, one half of which is to benefit the poor of the parish in which the offence was committed, and the other half is to go to the person bringing the action.

In the case tried before Lord Abinger, the gaming-house went by the name of the Minor St James’s Club-house; but there was not the least pretence for calling it a club; anybody went there to play with hardly the formality of a first introduction. The keepers did a thriving trade, at French Hazard chiefly, and it was proved by the plaintiff, who had been one of the coterie who kept the table, that Mr Bredell had lost £200, Mr Fitzroy Stanhope £50, the Marquis of Conyngham £500 on each of two separate occasions, Lord Cantalupe £400, and other noblemen and gentlemen various sums.