An ingenious plea was put in by counsel on behalf of Bond, the keeper of the so-called club, that the sums in question were paid by cheques, and as a cheque is not held to be a payment in law until cashed, and as the banks at which the cheques were payable were not in the parish of St George’s, Hanover Square, the offence was not completed in that parish, and the plaintiff could not recover. The Chief Baron overruled the objection, and under his direction the jury returned a verdict for the plaintiff for £3508, being treble the amount actually proved to have been lost, thus teaching a very useful lesson to the keepers of gaming-houses generally. Had Lords Conyngham and Cantalupe and Mr Stanhope come forward as witnesses, and certified to their losses on the two occasions mentioned, additional penalties would have accrued to the amount of £5820.
The Act of 1822 (3 Geo. IV., c. 114) was still in force, by which a gaming-house keeper might be imprisoned with hard labour, and the Police Act of 1839 (2 and 3 Vic., c. 47, § 48) provided that “it shall be lawful for the Commissioners, by Order in Writing, to authorize the Superintendent to enter any such House, or Room, with such Constables as shall be directed by the Commissioners to accompany him, and, if necessary, to use Force for the Purpose of effecting such Entry, whether by breaking open Doors, or otherwise, and to take into Custody all Persons who shall be found therein, and to seize and destroy all Tables and Instruments of gaming found in such House, or Premises; and, also, to seize all Monies and Securities for Money found therein, and the Owner, or Keeper of the said Gaming-House, or other person having the Care and Management thereof; and, also, every Banker, Croupier, and other Person who shall act in any manner in conducting the said Gaming-House, shall be liable to a Penalty of not more than One Hundred Pounds; or, in the discretion of the Magistrate before whom he shall be convicted of the Offence, may be committed to the House of Correction, with or without hard Labour, for a Time not more than Six Calendar Months; and, upon Conviction of any such Offender, all the Monies and Securities for Monies, which shall have been seized, as aforesaid, shall be paid to the said Receiver, to be, by him, applied towards defraying the Charge of the Police of the Metropolis; and every Person found in such Premises, without lawful Excuse, shall be liable to a Penalty of not more than Five Pounds.”
But all this legislation was of no use; the gaming-tables continued to flourish until after the Report of the Select Committee. What they were like at that time may best be learnt by the following extract from an article in Bentley’s Magazine for June 1844, entitled “A Fashionable Gaming-house, Confessions of a Croupier.”
“The—— gaming-house,—— Street, some years ago, was kept by three well-known individuals. After passing through two lobbies you entered the play-room, which formed a coup d’œil of no ordinary attraction. It was a large room, richly carpeted. Two rich and massive chandeliers, suspended from the ceiling, showed the dazzling gilt and colour of the empanelled walls; from which, at alternate distances, extended elegant mirror branches with lights. The chimney piece was furnished with a plate of glass, which reached the ceiling, the sides were concealed by falling drapery of crimson and gold, and supported by two gilt full-length figures bearing lights. At the opposite end were placed two beaufets, furnished with costly plate, glass, etc. In the middle was fixed the hazard table, of a long oval form, having an adumbrated lamp hanging over the centre. On the right stood the rouge et noir and roulette tables, idly placed, ‘to make up a show.’ Not so that on the left, for, there, stood the supper table. This was laid out with viands worthy the contemplation of an epicure, on whitest damask, in costly china, and in forms delicate and recherché. Everything which might court the most fastidious taste was there spread in luxuriant profusion; game, poultry, ham, tongue, not forgetting the substantial sirloin; lobster salads, oysters, en outre les petites misères; confectionery and preserves; creams, jellies, and pine apples. Silver candelabra lighted each end of this long and well supplied table, while the middle was reserved for the display of one of still greater magnificence, said to have been designed and executed for his Royal Highness, the late Duke of——. It was composed of a large figure of Hercules contending with the Hydra with seven heads. This gorgeous piece of plate supported seven wax lights. Iolaus (who assisted Hercules) was, also, represented, bearing the lighted brand wherewith to staunch the blood, lest another head should spring from the wound.”
This is much; but when to this is added—
‘Something, still, which prompts the eternal sigh!’
One Thousand Sovereigns! a shining golden heap! and Ten Thousand Pounds in notes! the reader may imagine the scene which every evening met the eye. Yes! every evening, into a silver vase, which stood on the hazard table, were emptied ten bags, each containing one hundred sovereigns!
On some evenings, there would, perhaps, be no play, and insufferably tedious would have been the hours from eleven till three but for the relief offered by some tragi-comic incident. The London season was about to open; the Newmarket Spring Meeting had just closed, and Tattersall’s, consequently, exhibited a slight gathering. The members of Crockford’s, as yet, presented a meagre attendance; the Opera Bills announced attractive novelties, and the minor theatres promised their many marvels. In fact, the busy, bustling hive of human interests was on the move. The dormant began to stir, the watchful to speculate; the beauty to take her promenade in the yet pale sunshine; the invalid to snatch his walk at the meridian hour; the gambler to devise his means of expense, and the banker-hell-keeper how to frustrate them.
It was one evening, about this period, that a party entered to try the fortune of an hour. The result of the evening’s play was against the bank. One of the visitors won five hundred pounds, which, for a whim, he took away in gold. He tied the sovereigns up in a white pocket handkerchief, threw them over his shoulder, and, in that manner, walked up St James’s Street. From that night, the same party continued to visit us; and, with occasional droppers in of ex-colonels, majors, captains, etc., we, generally, made up a table. What! enter again, after having won five hundred pounds! ‘Oh! infatuated man,’ I hear the reader exclaim. Yes! for of all things unfathomable and absorbing, there is nothing so unfathomably deep as the desires of the human heart, when stimulated by the excitement of speculation.
For some weeks the play had been constant, and, as the season advanced, the company increased, and the money began to return to the bank. Sometimes play began late, perhaps not till after one.