“It was in vain that essays, satires and sermons were written with a view to checking this universal vice. Hogarth has depicted it in all its horrors, whether in the scene where it first leads the idle apprentice into sin, or in others, where it shows the young rake on the way to jail. But its dreadful consequences were most forcibly placed before the eyes of the infatuated town by Edward Moore, in a tragedy, first performed at Drury Lane in 1753, and entitled the “Gamester.” How did “the town” receive this lesson? The “New Theatrical Dictionary” says: “With all its merits, it met with but little success, the general cry against it being that the distress was too deep to be borne. Yet we are rather apt to imagine its want of perfect approbation arose in one part, (and that no inconsiderable one) of the audience from a tenderness of another kind than that of compassion, and that they were less hurt by the distress of “Beverly” than by finding their darling vice—their favorite folly—thus vehemently attacked by the strong lance of reason, and dramatic execution.”
But gambling in England has never been confined to the aristocracy. If anything, it has been even more prevalent in the “Lower orders of society.” The play in the “dens” frequented by them has been less “heavy,” but none the less ruinous and far more productive of misery and crime. Such resorts have thrived for centuries in every part of London, and indeed, in every large English city. Many of them have been known as “clubs,” as are those of to-day, which the police raid from time to time.[time.]
In these places, as in those more aristocratic, hazard became the favorite game immediately upon its introduction from Paris, early in the century, and for a time almost superceded other gambling devices. St. James street early became the center for aristocratic gambling, and in no quarter of London were the third and fourth class “hells” so numerous as in the section surrounding this district. After “Crockford’s” was established and it became apparent that it was not only prospering under the protection and patronage of the ennobled and wealthy, but was also safe from police interference, the gamblers who designed to prey upon the lower classes were not slow to conclude that nowhere in London would they be so secure as in the same vicinity. Accordingly, in a short time, scores of “clubs” sprung up in Leicester Square, the Quadrant, in Regent street, and between Bennett and Jermyn Streets. The Quadrant was known as “Devil’s walk,” getting the name because of the half dozen or more “hells” which flourished on its North side, between the County Fire offices and Glasshouse street, and because of the hundreds of abandoned women who promenaded the pavement then, as now, during the closing hours of the day and far into the night. It was a locality especially favorable to these “dens.” The throngs of people were greater in its vicinity at night than in any other part of London. Competition between the different houses was so sharp that each had its messengers on the street, mixing with the people, and thrusting into their hands cards of invitation to their respective resorts. Even the courtesans solicited for the dens at the time they solicited for themselves.
The Quadrant “clubs” have been the ruin of thousands of young men. Finally, the scandal became so great and openly offensive that the public revolted. Some young men turned over the cards of invitation to their parents, the latter in turn passing the invitations to the police. With the cards as a clue the authorities began a determined fight upon the evil, and finally exterminated the infamous resorts. Their doors had opened readily, day and night, Sundays included. Anyone, no matter how high or low in degree and circumstances, was welcome, and all were systematically plucked.
As late as 1844 there were no less than fifteen gambling houses, well known to the police, in the parishes of St. James’, St. George’s, St. Ann’s, and St. Martin’s-in-the-fields, besides the rooms of public houses, billiard rooms and coffee shops, in which gambling was conducted. These latter, known as “copper halls,” usually accepted the lowest stakes, down to a penny or a ha’penny, and were patronized mainly by clerks and servants.
Gambling establishments, pure and simple, and of the lowest order, have generally “followed the races;” that is, have been opened during race week in the town where the courses are located—such as Warwick, Doncaster, etc. Allusion has been made already to the fact that betting on horse races is a favorite species of gambling in England. That subject receives due attention in another part of this work. Reference is proper here, however, to the gambling by those who attend the races. It was said of Doncaster in 1846: “The Eldorado, or grand source of income and wealth to the proprietors, arises from the prolific revenue of the play of gaming tables, of which there are usually six in constant nightly operation during the racing week. The proprietors of the Subscription Betting Rooms are not ostensibly connected in the co-partnership of the banks, or in the business of the tables, but they are, nevertheless, largely interested in the successful issue of the week, as will be shown. In the first instance it should be stated that the sum of £350 or £400 is paid down to them by the party contracting for the tables, and for the privilege of putting down the banks. This is all clear profit, paid for in advance, and without any contingency, and in addition to this large sum so paid, for the mere privilege of finding capital, there is a stipulation also on the part of the proprietors of the room, that they shall receive a considerable part or share of the clear profits or gains of the week, accruing from the tables, and this without the risk of a single shilling by them under any unlooked-for reverse of fortune.”
Doncaster, at an earlier period, often harbored fully thirty or forty gambling establishments during race week, which were conducted in the most open manner. Men were stationed in front to hand to passers by cards bearing such inscriptions as, “Roulette, £1,000 in the bank.”[bank.”] A former magistrate of Warwick certified that once during the races nearly every house in a certain street was utilized for gambling purposes, and that the windows were wide open so that those who were passing could see what was transpiring within. Though the sporting gentry had usually to pay large fees for the privilege of running race week “hells,” they could well afford to do so in view of their enormous profits. The games usual at such places were roulette and hazard. Both French and English hazard were in favor, the latter to accommodate the older generation of “sports,” with whom it was a favorite. French hazard is a quiet game; English hazard a noisy one. In the former, the players have simply to place their stakes in particular positions on the table; as they wish to bet, and await the result of the cast. They need not utter a word. At the English game, on the contrary, every player is usually shouting at the top of his voice, and the scene is not unlike that in the wheat pit of a Board of Trade or in the Stock Exchange in New York. “The caster’s in for five pounds!” “done;” “I’ll bet fifteen to ten!” “What’s the main and chance?” “Seven to five;” “I’ll take on doublets!” “The caster throws before the five for ten pounds.” These are samples of the exclamations made by those who are offering and taking bets. The players in the English game bet against each other and not against the banks as in the French game. Wranglings, disputes and hot words are frequent, owing to misunderstandings and the efforts of sharpers to impose upon those whom they take to be inexperienced and susceptible to bravado.
An English hazard game is superintended by a “groom-porter,” as he is called, who presides at the table to regulate the bets made between the “caster,” or thrower of the dice, and the “setter,” or person opposed to him. The proprietor does not get a percentage of the money staked as in the French game, but derives his profit from a stipulated amount from all the players who are fortunate enough to throw on three mains, or win three times successively. Such winnings, it has been estimated, occur eight times an hour. Accordingly the proprietor gets about $40 an hour for each table, or $400 a night on the basis of ten hours. Of course, the amount varies with the number engaged in playing. But the amount, whatever it is, is clear profit, for the use of the table only is involved. The “groom porter” has very arduous duties to perform, and must, of necessity, be quick and determined, in order to keep track of all the bets made and to defeat the frequent attempts at fraud by knaves and scoundrels who sometimes stake less than their proportion, or endeavor to escape their “obligations.”(?) In return for this protective vigilance he receives a gratuity of a guinea or more from every one who throws six mains, or wins six times successively. When betting is large his “doucers” are generally increased, and sometimes he receives as much as five or ten pounds.
In these “dens” the roulette tables are usually more numerous than those devoted to hazard, and they prove more remunerative to the proprietors, as the percentage against the players is about five and a half, or more than three times what it is in hazard. The profits during race week averaged, some times, £2,500 each.
Of the low gambling resorts in London, early in this century, Fraser’s Magazine, of August 1833, gives this interesting account: “On an average, during the last twenty years, about thirty ‘hells’ have been regularly open in London for the accommodation of the lowest and most vile set of hazard players. The game of hazard is the principal one played at the low houses, and is, like the characters who play it, the most desperate and ruinous of all games. The wretched men who follow this play are partial to it, because it gives a chance, from a run of good luck, to become possessed speedily of all the money on the table. No man who plays hazard ever despairs making his fortune at some time. Such is the nature of this destructive game, that I can now point out several men, whom you see daily, who were in rags and wretchedness on Monday, and, before the termination of the week, they rode in a newly purchased stanhope of their own, having several thousand pounds in their possession. The few instances of such success, which unfortunately occur, are generally well-known, and consequently encourage the hopes of others who nightly attend these places, sacrificing all considerations of life to the carrying their all (if it be only a few shillings) every twenty-four hours to stake in this great lottery, under the delusive hope of catching Dame Fortune at some time in a merry mood. Thousands annually fall, in health, fame and fortune, by this mad infatuation, while not one in a thousand finds an oasis in the desert. 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 secured 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, immovable to any power of pressure against it by the company who go to play, a circle of inlaid white hollywood 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 at 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 one shilling to half-a-crown, according to the terms on which the house is known to be 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 better ones, there is always a set of men 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 of 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 call 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 calls, the throwing then continues, during which bets are made by others, on the event, until it is decided. If the caster throws deuces[deuces] 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. Also, if he should call six or eight, and throws double sizes, 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 equalization of all the chances at this game when calling a ‘main.’