At Islip the equally renowned Oby Snedecker kept the tavern which was the resort of Pat Hern and his companions. It had attached to it a stream and lake to which the gentlemen who had the privilege of the house were admitted. Mrs Obadiah Snedecker, the buxom wife of 'mine host,' was famous for the exquisite way in which she cooked veal cutlets. There were two niggers in the establishment, named Steve and Dick, who accompanied the gentlemen in their angling excursions, amusing them with their stolidity and the enormous quantity of gin they could imbibe without being more than normally fuddled.

After fishing, the gentlemen used to take to gambling at the usual French games; but here Pat Hern appeared not in the character of gambler, but as a private gentleman. He was always well received by the visitors, and caused them many a hearty laugh with his overflowing humour. He died about nine years ago, I think tolerably well off.

JOHN MORRISSEY.

John Morrissey was originally a prize-fighter,—having fought with Heenan and also with Yankee Sullivan, and lived by teaching the young Americans the noble art of self-defence. He afterwards set up a 'Bar,' or public-house, and over this he established a small Faro bank, which he enlarged and improved by degrees until it became well known, and was very much frequented by the gamblers of New York. He is now, I believe, a member of Congress for that city, and immensely wealthy. Not content with his successful gambling operations in New York, he has opened a splendid establishment at the fashionable summer resort of Saratoga, consisting of an immense hotel, ballrooms, and gambling-rooms, and is said to have a profit of two millions of dollars (about L400,000) during the season.(88) He is mentioned as one of those who pay the most income tax.

(88) Ubi supra.

Morrissey's gambling house is in Union Square, and is said to be magnificently furnished and distinguished by the most princely hospitality. At all hours of the day or night tables are laid out with every description of refreshment, to which all who visit the place are welcome.

This is a remarkable feature in the American system. At all 'Bars,' or public-houses, you find provided, free of charge, supplies of cheese, biscuits, &c., and sometimes even some savoury soup—which are often resorted to by those unfortunates who are 'clean broke' or 'used up,' with little else to assuage the pangs of hunger but the everlasting quid of tobacco, furiously 'chawed.' Another generous feature of the American system is that the bar-man does not measure out to you, after our stingy fashion, what drink you may require, but hands you the tumbler and bottle to help yourself, unless in the case of made drinks, such as 'mint-juleps,' &c. However, you must drink your liquor at a gulp, after the Yankee fashion; for if you take a sip and turn your back to the counter, your glass will disappear—as it is not customary to have glasses standing about. Morrissey's wines are very good, and always supplied in abundance.

Almost every game of chance is played at this establishment, and the stakes are very high and unlimited. The visitors are the wealthy and wild young men of New York, and occasionally a Southern-looking man who, perhaps, has saved some of his property, being still the same professional gambler; for it may be affirmed that all the Southern planters were addicted to gambling.

'The same flocks of well-dressed and fashionable-looking men of all ages pass in and out all through the day and night; tens of thousands of dollars are lost and won; the "click" of the markers never ceases; all speak in a low tone; everything has a serious, quiet appearance. The dealers seem to know every one, and nod familiarly to all who approach their tables. John Morrissey is occasionally to be seen, walking through the rooms, apparently a disinterested spectator. He is a short, thick-set man, of about 40 years, dark complexion, and wears a long beard, dresses in a slovenly manner, and walks with a swagger. Now and then he approaches the table; makes a few bets, and is then lost in the crowd.'(89)

(89) Ubi supra.

OTHER GAMING-HOUSES.

The same writer furnishes other very interesting facts.

'After the opera-house and theatres are closed, Morrissey's gambling house becomes very full; in fact, the best time to see it to advantage is about two or three o'clock in the morning.

'A little below the New York Hotel, and on the opposite side of Broadway, there is a gambling house, not quite so "respectable" as the one I have been describing; here the stakes are not below a dollar, and not more than twenty-five; there are no refreshments gratis, and the rooms are not so well furnished. The men to be seen gaming in this house differ but very little in appearance from those in Union Square, but there seems to be less discipline amongst them, and more noise and confusion. It is a rare thing to see an intoxicated man in a gambling house; the door-keepers are very particular as to whom they admit, and any disturbance which might call for the interference of the police would be ruinous to their business. The police are undoubtedly aware of everything going on in these houses, and do not interfere as long as everything goes on quietly.

'Now and then a clerk spends his employer's money, and if it is discovered where he lost it then a RAID is made by the police in force, the tables and all the gaming paraphernalia are carried off, and the proprietors heavily fined.

'I witnessed a case of this: a young man in the employment of a commission merchant appropriated a large sum of his employer's money, and lost it at Faro. He was arrested, and confessed what he had done with it. The police at once proceeded to the house where the Faro bank was kept, and the scene, when it was known that the police were below, beggars description. The tables were upset, and notes and markers were flying about in all directions. Men, sprawling and scrambling on the floor, fought with one another for whatever they could seize; then the police entered and cleared the house, having arrested the owners of the bank. This was in one of the lowest gaming houses, where "skin" games (cheating games) are practised.

'In the gambling house in Broadway, near the New York Hotel, I have often noticed a young man, apparently of some 18 or 20 years of age, fashionably dressed, and of prepossessing appearance. On some days he would play very high, and seemed to have most remarkable luck; but he always played with the air of an old gamester, seeming careless as to whether he won or lost. One night he lost so heavily that he attracted the notice of all the players; every stake of his was swept away; and he still played on until his last dollar was lost; then he quietly walked out, whistling a popular Yankee air. He was there next day MINUS his great-coat and watch and chain—he lost again, went out and returned in his shirt sleeves, having pawned his coat, studs, and everything he could with decency divest himself of. He lost everything; and when I next saw him he was selling newspapers in front of the post-office!

'The mania for gambling is a most singular one. I have known a man to win a thousand dollars in a few hours, and yet he would not spend a dollar to get a dinner, but when he felt hungry he went to a baker's shop and bought a loaf of bread, and that same night lost all his money at Roulette.

'There is another house on the corner of Centre and Grand Streets, open during night and day. The stakes here are the same as in the one in Broadway, and the people who play are very much the same—in fact, the same faces are constantly to be met with in all the gambling houses, from the highest to the lowest. When a gambler has but small capital, he will go to a small house, where small stakes are admissible. I saw a man win 50 or 60 dollars at this place, and then hand in his checks (markers) to be cashed. The dealer handed him the money, and said—"Now you go off, straight away to Union Square, and pay away all you have won from here to John Morrissey. This is the way with all of them; they never come here until they are dead broke, and have only a dirty dollar or so to risk." There was some truth in what he said, but notwithstanding he managed to keep the bank going on. There is a great temptation to a man who has won a sum of money at a small gambling house to go to a higher one, as he may then, at a single stake, win as much as he could possibly win if he had a run of luck in a dozen stakes at the smaller bank.

'In No. 102, in the Bowery, there is one of the lowest of the gaming houses I have seen in the Empire city. The proprietor is an Irishman; he employs three men as dealers, and they relieve one another every four hours during the day and night. The stakes here are of the lowest, and the people to be seen here of the roughest to be found in the city. The game is Faro, as elsewhere.

'In this place I met an old friend with whom I had served in the army of Northern Virginia, under General Lee, in his Virginia campaign of 1865. He told me he had been in New York since the end of the war, and lived a very uncertain sort of life. Whatever money he could earn he spent at the gaming table. Sometimes he had a run of luck, and whilst it lasted he dressed well, and stopped at the most expensive hotels. One night he would sleep at the Astor House; and perhaps the next night he would not be able to pay for his bed, and would stay all night in the parks. Strange to say, hundreds live in this way, which is vulgarly called "scratching" in New York. I afterwards saw my friend driving an omnibus; and when I could speak to him, I found that he was still attending the banks with every cent he earned!

'It is amusing to watch the proprietor of this place at the Bowery; he has a joke for every one he sees. "Hallo, old sport!" he cries, "come and try your luck—you look lucky this evening; and if you make a good run you may sport a gold watch and chain, and a velvet vest, like myself." Then to another, "Young clear-the-way, you look down at the mouth to-night! Come along and have a turn—and never mind your supper tonight." In this way the days and nights are passed in those gambling houses.'

There is also in New York an association for the prevention of gambling. The society employs detectives to visit the gambling saloons, and procure evidence for the suppression of the establishments.

It is the business of these agents also to ascertain the names and occupations of those who frequent the gambling rooms, and a list of the persons thus detected is sent periodically to the subscribers to the society, that they may know who are the persons wasting their money, or perhaps the money of their employers, in gambling. Many large houses of business subscribe.

In the month of August the society's agents detected among the gamblers 68 clerks of mercantile houses, and in the previous six months reported 623 cases. It is stated that there are in New York and Brooklyn 1017 policy and lottery offices, and 163 Faro banks, and that their net annual gains are not less than 36,000,000 dollars.

AMERICAN GAMBLERS.

At American gambling houses 'it is very easy,' says the same writer, 'to distinguish the professional from the ordinary gambler. The latter has a nervous expression about the mouth, and an intense gaze upon the cards, and altogether a very serious nervous appearance; while the professional plays in a very quiet manner, and seems to care but little how the game goes; and his desire to appear as if the game was new to him is almost certain to expose him to those who know the manoeuvre.

'Previous to the struggle for independence in the South, there were many hundreds of gamblers scattered through the Southern towns, and the Mississippi steam-boats used to abound with them. In the South, a gambler was regarded as outside the pale of society, and classed with the slave-trader, who was looked upon with loathing by the very same men who traded with him; such was the inconsistency of public opinion.

'The American gambler differs from his European brethren in many respects. He is very frequently, in education, appearance, and manner, a gentleman, and if his private history were known, it would be found that he was of good birth, and was at one time possessed of considerable fortune; but having lost all at the gambling table, he gradually came down to the level of those who proved his ruin, and having no profession nor means of livelihood left to him, he adopted their mode of life.

'On one occasion I met a brother of a Southern General (very famous in the late war and still a wealthy man) who, at one time, was one of the richest planters in the State of Louisiana, and is now acting as an agent for a set of gamblers to their gaming houses. After losing everything he had, he became a croupier to a gambling house in New Orleans, and afterwards plied his trade on the Mississippi for some years; then he went into Mexico, and finally to New York, where he opened a house on his own account.

'During the war he speculated in "greenbacks," and lost all his ill-gotten gains, and had to descend to his present position.'(90)

(90) Ubi supra.

AMERICAN GAMES:—DRAW POKER, OR BLUFF.

Draw Poker, or Bluff, is a favourite game with the Americans. It is played by any number of persons, from four to seven; four, five, or six players are preferred; seven are only engaged where a party of friends consists of that number, and all require to be equally amused.

The deal is usually determined by fixing on a card, and dealing round, face upwards, until such card appears. The dealer then places in the pool an Ante, or certain agreed-upon sum, and proceeds to deal to each person five cards. The player next to the dealer, before looking at his cards, has the option of staking a certain sum. This is called the 'blind,' and makes him the elder hand, or last player; and when his turn comes round he can, by giving up his first stake, withdraw from the game, or, if he pleases, by making good any sum staked by a previous player, raise the stakes to any sum he pleases, provided, of course, that no limit has been fixed before sitting down. The privilege of raising or doubling on the blind may be exercised by any one round the table, provided he has not looked at his cards. If no intervening player has met the original blind, that is, staked double the sum, this must be done by all who wish to play, and, of course, must be made good by the last player. Each person then looks at his cards, and decides on his plan of action. It should be understood that every one, except the blind, may look at his cards in his turn before deciding if he will meet the blind. Before speaking of the manner of drawing it will be better to give the relative value of the hands, which will much simplify the matter, and make it more easily understood. Thus: four aces are the best cards that can be held; four kings next, and so on, down to four twos; four cards of the same value beating anything except four of a higher denomination.

The next best hand is called a full, and is made up thus:—three aces and a pair of sixes; three nines and pair of twos; in fact, any three cards of the same value and a pair constitute a full hand, and can only be beaten by a full hand of a higher denomination or fours. The next hand that takes precedence is a flush, or five cards of one colour; after this comes threes, vis., three cards all of the same value, say, three aces, kings, queens, and so on, downwards (the two remaining, being odd ones, are of no value). The next is a sequence, as five following cards, for instance, nine, eight, seven, six, five; it is not necessary they should all be of one colour, as this, of course, would constitute a flush. Next come two pairs, say, two knaves and two fives; and, last of all, is a single pair of cards. Having explained the value of the hands, let us show how you endeavour to get them. The bets having been made, and the blind made good or abandoned, or given up, the dealer proceeds to ask each player in his turn how many cards he wants; and here begins the first study of the game—TO KNOW WHAT TO THROW AWAY in order to get in others to make the hand better if possible. Your hand may, of course, be so utterly bad as to make it necessary to throw away the whole five and draw five new ones; this is not very likely, as few players will put a stake in the pool unless, on looking first at his cards, he has seen something, say a pair, to start with. We will suppose he has this, and, of course, he throws away three cards, and draws three in place of them. To describe the proper way to fill up a hand is impossible; we can but give an instance here and there to show the varying interest which attaches to the game;—thus, you may have threes in the original hand dealt; some players will throw away the two odd cards and draw two more, to try and make the hand fours, or, at least, a full; while a player knowing that his is not a very good hand, will endeavour to DECEIVE the rest by standing out, that is, not taking any fresh cards; of course all round the table make remarks as to what he can possibly have.

It is usually taken to be a sequence, as this requires no drawing, if originally dealt. The same remark applies to a flush; two pairs or four to a flush, of course, require one card to make them into good hands, a player being only entitled to draw once; and the hands being made good, the real and exciting part of the game begins. Each one endeavours to keep his real position a secret from his neighbours. Some put on a look of calm indifference, and try to seem self-possessed; some will grin and talk all sorts of nonsense; some will utter sly bits of badinage; while others will study intently their cards, or gaze at the ceiling—all which is done merely to distract attention, or to conceal the feelings, as the chance of success or failure be for or against; and then begins the betting or gambling part of the game. The player next the blind is the first to declare his bet; in which, of course, he is entirely governed by circumstances. Some, being the first to bet, and having a very good card indeed, will 'bet small,' in hopes that some one else will see it, and 'go better,' that is, bet more, so that when it comes round to his turn again he may see all previous bets, and bet as much higher as he thinks proper; for it must be borne in mind that a player's first bet does not preclude him from coming in again if his first bet has been raised upon by any player round the table in his turn; but if once the original bet goes round and comes to the blind, or last player, without any one going better, the game is closed, and it becomes a show of hands, to see who takes the pool and all the bets. This does not often happen, as there is usually some one round the table to raise it; but my informant has seen it occur, and has been highly amused at watching the countenance of the expectant small better at having to show a fine hand for a mere trifle. Some players will, in order to conceal their method of play, occasionally throw their cards among the waste ones and abandon their stakes; this is not often done; but it sometimes happens where the stakes have been small, or the player has been trying a bluff, and has found some one whom he could not bluff off. The foregoing is a concise account of the game, as played in America, where it is of universal interest, and exercises great fascination. It is often played by parties of friends who meet regularly for the purpose, and instances can be found where fortunes have been lost in a night.

The game of Pokers differs from the one just described, in so far that the players receive only the original five cards dealt without drawing fresh ones, and must either play or refuse on them. In this game, as there are more cards, as many as ten persons can play.

LANSQUENET.(91)

Lansquenet is much played by the Americans, and is one of the most exciting games in vogue.

The dealer or banker stakes a certain sum, and this must be met by the nearest to the dealer first, and so on. When the stake is met, the dealer turns up two cards, one to the right,—the latter for himself, the former for the table or the players. He then keeps on turning up the cards until either of the cards is matched, which constitutes the winning,—as, for instance, suppose the five of diamonds is his card, then should the five of any other suit turn up, he wins. If he loses, then the next player on the left becomes banker and proceeds in the same way.

(91) This name is derived from the German 'landsknecht' ('valet of the fief'), applied to a mercenary soldier.

When the dealer's card turns up, he may take the stake and pass the bank; or he may allow the stake to remain, whereat of course it becomes doubled if met. He can continue thus as long as the cards turn up in his favour—having the option at any moment of giving up the bank and retiring for that time. If he does that, the player to whom he passes the bank has the option of continuing it at the same amount at which it was left. The pool may be made up by contributions of all the players in certain proportions. The terms used respecting the standing of the stake are, 'I'll see' (a moi le tout) and Je tiens. When jumelle (twins), or the turning up of similar cards on both sides, occurs, then the dealer takes half the stake.

Sometimes there is a run of several consecutive winnings; but on one occasion, on board one of the Cunard steamers, a banker at the game turned up in his own favour I think no less than eighteen times. The original stake was only six-pence; but had each stake been met as won, the final doubling would have amounted to the immense sum of L3,236 16s.! This will appear by the following scheme:—

L s. d. L s. d. 1st turn up 0 0 6 10th turn up 12 16 0 2nd,, 0 1 0 11th,, 25 12 0 3rd,, 0 2 0 12th,, 51 4 0 4th,, 0 4 0 13th,, 102 8 0 5th,, 0 8 0 14th,, 204 16 0 6th,, 0 16 0 15th,, 409 12 0 7th,, 1 12 0 16th,, 819 4 0 8th,, 3 4 0 17th,, 1,618 8 0 9th,, 6 8 0 18th,, 3,236 16 0

In fair play, as this is represented to have been, such a long sequence of matches must be considered very remarkable, although six or seven is not unfrequent.

Unfortunately, however, there is a very easy means by which card sharpers manage the thing to perfection. They prepare beforehand a series of a dozen cards arranged as follows:—

1st Queen 6th Nine 2nd Queen 7th Nine 3rd Ten 8th Ace 4th Seven 9th Eight 5th Ten 10th Ace

Series thus arranged are placed in side pockets outside the waistcoat, just under the left breast. When the sharper becomes banker he leans negligently over the table, and in this position his fingers are as close as possible to the prepared cards, termed portees. At the proper moment he seizes the cards and places them on the pack. The trick is rendered very easy by the fact that the card-sharper has his coat buttoned at the top, so that the lower part of it lies open and permits the introduction of the hand, which is completely masked.

Some sharpers are skilful enough to take up some of the matches already dealt, which they place in their costieres, or side-pockets above described, in readiness for their next operation; others keep them skilfully hidden in their hand, to lay them, at the convenient moment, upon the pack of cards. By this means, the pack is not augmented.(92)

(92) Robert Houdin, 'Les Tricheries des Grecs devoilees.'

In France the stakes commence at 5 francs; and it may be easily imagined how soon vast sums of money may change hands if the players are determined and reckless.

EUCHRE.

This is also a game much played in the States. I suppose it is a Yankee invention, named by one of their learned professors, from the Greek (gr euceis) (eucheir), meaning 'well in the hand' or 'strong'—a very appropriate designation of the game, which is as follows:—

In this game all the cards are excluded up to the sixes,—seven being the lowest in the Euchre pack. Five cards are dealt out, after the usual shuffling and cutting, with a turn-up, or trump. The dealer has the privilege of discarding one of his cards and taking up the trump—not showing, however, the one he discards. The Knave is the best card in the game—a peculiar Yankee 'notion.' The Knave of trumps is called the Right Bower, and the other Knave of the same colour is the Left Bower. Hence it appears that the nautical propensity of this great people is therein represented—'bower' being in fact a sheet anchor. If both are held, it is evident that the point of the deal is decided—since it results from taking three tricks out of the five; for, of course, the trump card appropriated by the dealer will, most probably, secure a trick, and the two Knaves must necessarily make two. The game may be five or seven points, as agreed upon. Euchre is rapid and decisive, and, therefore, eminently American.

FLY LOO.

Some of the games played by the Americans are peculiar to themselves. For instance, vast sums of money change hands over Fly Loo, or the attraction existing between lumps of sugar and adventurous flies! This game is not without its excitement. The gamblers sit round a table, each with a lump of sugar before him, and the player upon whose lump a fly first perches carries off the pool—which is sometimes enormous.

They tell an anecdote of a 'cute Yankee, who won invariably and immensely at the game. There seemed to be a sort of magical or mesmeric attraction for the flies to his lump. At length it was ascertained that he touched the lump with his finger, after having smeared it with something that naturally and irresistibly attracts flies whenever they can get at it. I am told that this game is also played in England; if so, the parties must insist upon fresh lumps of sugar, and prevent all touching.

The reader will probably ask—what next will gamblers think of betting on? But I can tell of a still more curious source of gambling infatuation. In the Oxford Magazine,(93) is the following statement:—

(93) Vol. V.

'A few days ago, as some sprigs of nobility were dining together at a tavern, they took the following conceit into their heads after dinner. One of them observing a maggot come from a filbert, which seemed to be uncommonly large, attempted to get it from his companion, who, not choosing to let it go, was immediately offered five guineas for it, which was accepted. He then proposed to run it against any other two maggots that could be produced at table. Matches were accordingly made, and these poor reptiles were the means of L500 being won and lost in a few minutes!'

THE CRIMES OF AMERICAN GAMBLERS.

Suicides, duels, and murders have frequently resulted from gambling here as elsewhere. Many of the duels in dark rooms originate in disputes at the gaming table. The combatants rush from play to an upper or adjoining room, and settle their difference with revolver-shots, often fatal to both.

One of these was a serio-comic affair which is perhaps worth relating. Two players had a gambling dispute, and resolved to settle it in a dark room with pistols. The door was locked and one of them fired, but missed. On this the other exclaimed—'Now, you rascal, I'll finish you at my leisure.' He then began to search for his opponent. Three or four times he walked stealthily round the room—but all in vain—he could not find his man; he listened; he could not hear him breathe. What had become of him? 'Oh!' at length he exclaimed—'Now I've got you, you —— sneak—here goes!' 'Hold! Hold!' cried a voice from the chimney, 'Don't fire! I'll pay you anything.—Do take away that —— pistol.' In effect his adversary held the muzzle of his pistol close to the seat of honour as the fellow stood stuffed up the chimney!

'You'll pay, will you?' said the former; 'Very well—800 dollars—is 't a bargain?'

'Yes, yes!' gasped the voice in the chimney.

'Very well,' rejoined the tormentor, 'but just wait a bit; I must have a voucher. I'll just cut off the bottom of your breeches by way of voucher.' So saying he pulled out his knife and suited the action to the words.

'Now get down,' he said, 'and out with the money;' which was paid, when the above-named voucher was returned to the chimney-groper.

The town of Vicksburg, on the Mississippi, was formerly notorious as the rendezvous of all sorts of desperadoes. It was a city of men; you saw no women, except at night; and never any children. Vicksburg was a sink of iniquity; and there gambling raged with unrestricted fury. It was always after touching at Vicksburg that the Mississippi boats became the well-known scene of gambling—some of the Vicksburghers invariably getting on board to ply their profession.

On one occasion, one of these came on board, and soon induced some of the passengers to proceed to the upper promenade-deck for gambling. Soon the stakes increased and a heap of gold was on the table, when a dispute arose, in the midst of which one of the players placed his hand on the stake. Thereupon the Vicksburg gambler drew his knife and plunged it into the hand of the former, with a terrible imprecation.

Throughout the Southern States, as before observed, gambling prevailed to a very great extent, and its results were often deplorable.

A planter went to a gambling house, accompanied by one of his negroes, whom he left at the door to wait his return. Whilst the master was gambling the slave did the same with another whom he found at the door. Meanwhile a Mexican came up and stood by looking at the game of the negroes. By-and-by one of them accused the other of cheating, which was denied, when the Mexican interposed and told the negro that he saw him cheat. The latter told the Mexican that he lied—whereupon the Mexican stabbed him to the heart, killing him on the spot.

Soon the negro's master came out, and on being informed of the affair, turned to the Mexican, saying—'Now, sir, we must settle the matter between us—my negro's quarrel is mine.' 'Agreed,' said the Mexican; they entered the house, proceeded to a dark room, fired at each other, and both were killed.

About six and twenty years ago there lived in New York a well-to-do merchant, of the name of Osborne, who had an only son, who was a partner in the concern. The young man fell in love with the daughter of a Southern planter, then on a visit at New York, to whom he engaged himself to be married, with the perfect consent of all parties concerned.

On the return of the planter and his daughter, young Osborne accompanied them to Mobile. On the very night of their arrival, the planter proposed to his intended son-in-law to visit the gaming table. They went; Osborne was unlucky; and after some hours' play lost an immense amount to the father of his sweetheart. He gave bills, drawn on his house, in payment of the debt of honour.

On the following morning the planter referred to the subject, hinting that Osborne must be ruined.

'Indeed, I am!' said the young man; 'but the possession of your daughter will console me for the calamity, which, I doubt not, I shall be able to make up for by industry and exertion.'

'The possession of MY daughter?' exclaimed the planter; 'do you think I would marry my daughter to a beggar? No, no, sir, the affair is ended between you—and I insist upon its being utterly broken off.' Such was the action of the heartless gambler, rendered callous to all sentiments of real honour by his debasing pursuit.

Young Osborne was equal to the occasion. Summoning all his powers to manfully bear this additional shock of fate, he calmly replied:—

'So be it, sir, as you wish it. Depend upon it, however, that my bills will be duly honoured'—and so saying he bowed and departed, without even wishing to take leave of his betrothed.

On returning to New York Osborne immediately disclosed the transaction to his father, who, in spite of the utter ruin which impended, and the brutality of the cause of the ruin, resolved to meet the bills when due, and maintain the honour of his son—whatever might be the consequences to himself.

The bills were paid; the concern was broken up; old Mr Osborne soon died broken-hearted; and young Osborne went as clerk to some house of business in Wall Street.

A year or so passed away, and one day a lady presented herself at the old house of Osborne—now no longer theirs—inquiring for young Osborne. She was directed to his new place of business; being no other than his betrothed, who loved him as passionately as ever, and to whom her father had accounted for the non-fulfilment of the engagement in a very unsatisfactory manner. Of course Osborne could not fail to be delighted at this proof of her devotedness; the meeting was most affectionate on both sides; and, with the view of coming to a decision respecting their future proceedings, they adjourned to an hotel in the vicinity. Here, whilst seated at a table and in earnest conversation, the young lady's father rushed in, and instantly shot down Osborne, who expired at his feet. With a frantic shriek the poor girl fell on the body of her betrothed, and finding a poniard or a knife concealed in his breast, she seized it, instantly plunged it into her heart, and was soon a corpse beside her lover.



CHAPTER X. LADY GAMESTRESSES.

The passions of the two sexes are similar in the main; the distinctions between them result less from nature than from education. Often we meet with women, especially the literary sort, who seem veritable men, if not so, as the lawyers say, 'to all intents and purposes;' and often we meet with men, especially town-dandies, who can only be compared to very ordinary women.

Almost all the ancients had the bad taste to speak ill of women; among the rest even that delightful old Father 'of the golden mouth,' St Chrysostom.(94) So that, evidently, Dr Johnson's fierce dictum cannot apply universally—'Only scoundrels speak ill of women.'

(94) Hom. II.

Seneca took the part of women, exclaiming:—'By no means believe that their souls are inferior to ours, or that they are less endowed with the virtues. As for honour, it is equally great and energetic among them.'

A foreign lady was surprised at beholding the equality established between the men and women at Sparta; whereupon the wife of Leonidas, the King of Sparta, said to her:—'Do you not know that it is we who bring forth the men? It is not the fathers, but the mothers, that effectually form the heart.'

Napoleon seems to have formed what may be called a professional estimate of women. When the demonstrative Madame de Stael asked him—evidently expecting him to pay her a compliment—'Whom do you think the greatest woman dead or alive?' Napoleon replied, 'Her, Madame, WHO HAS BORNE MOST SONS.' Nettled by this sarcastic reply, she returned to the charge, observing, 'It is said you are not friendly to the sex.' Napoleon was her match again; 'Madame,' he exclaimed, 'I am passionately fond of my wife;' and off he walked. Assuredly it would not mend matters in this world (or the next) if all men were Napoleons and all women de Staels.

If we consider the question in other points of view, have there been, proportionally, fewer celebrated women than illustrious men? fewer great queens than truly great kings? Compare, on all sides, the means and the circumstances; count the reigns, and decide.

The fact is that this question has been argued only by tyrannical or very silly men, who found it difficult to get rid of the absurd prejudices which retain the finest half of human nature in slavery, and condemn it to obscurity under the pretext that it is essentially corrupted. Towards the end of the 15th century a certain demented writer attempted to prove that women do not even deserve the title of reasonable creatures, which in the original sounds oddly enough, namely, probare nititur mulieres non homines esse. Another, a very learned Jesuit, endeavoured to demonstrate that women have no souls! Some say that women surpass us in wickedness; others, that they are both worse and better than men.

That morbid wretch, Alexander Pope, said, 'Every woman is at heart a rake;' and a recent writer in the Times puts more venom in the dictum by saying, 'Every woman is (or likes) at heart a rake.' Both these opinions may be set down as mere claptrap, witty, but vile.

But a truce to such insults against those who beautify the earth; THEIR vices cannot excuse ours. It is we who have depraved them by associating them with excesses which are repugnant to their delicacy. The contagion, however, has not affected all of them. Among our 'plebeians,' and even among nobility, many women remind us of the modesty and courage of those ancient republican matrons, who, so to speak, founded, the manners and morals of their country; and among all classes of the community there are thousands who inspire their husbands with generous impulses in the battle of life, either by cheering words of comfort, or by that mute eloquence of duties well fulfilled, which nothing can resist if we are worthy of the name of men. How many a gambler has been reformed by the tender appeals of a good and devoted wife. 'Venerable women!' one of them exclaims, 'in whatever rank Heaven has placed you, receive my homage.' The gentleness of your souls smooths down the roughness of ours and checks its violence. Without your virtues what would we be? Without YOU, my dear wife, what would have become of me? You beheld the beginning and the end of the gaming fury in me, which I now detest; and it is not to me, but to you alone, that the victory must be ascribed.'(95)

(95) Dusaulx, De la Passion du Jeu.

A very pretty anecdote is told of such a wife and a gaming husband.

In order to simplify the signs of loss and gain, so as not to be overburdened with the weight of gold and silver, the French players used to carry the representation of their fortunes in small boxes, more or less elegant. A lady (who else could have thought of such a device?), trembling for the fate of her husband, made him a present of one of these dread boxes. This little master-piece of conjugal and maternal affection represented a wife in the attitude of supplication, and weeping children, seeming to say to their father—THINK OF US!....

It is, therefore, only with the view of avenging good and honourable women, that I now proceed to speak of those who have disgraced their sex.

I have already described a remarkable gamestress—the Persian Queen Parysatis.(96)

(96) Chapter III.

There were no gamestresses among the Greeks; and the Roman women were always too much occupied with their domestic affairs to find time for play. What will our modern ladies think, when I state that the Emperor Augustus scarcely wore a garment which had not been woven by his wife, his sister, or grand-daughters.(97)

(97) Veste non temere alia quam domestica usus est, ab uxore et filia nepotibusque confecta. Suet. in Vita Augusti.

Although deeply corrupted under Nero and the sovereigns that resembled him, the Roman women never gambled among themselves except during the celebration of the festival of the Bona Dea. This ceremonial, so often profaned with licentiousness, was not attended by desperate gambling. The most depraved women abstained from it, even when that mania was at its height, not only around the Capitol, but even in the remainder of the Empire.

Contemporary authors, who have not spared the Roman ladies, never reproached them with this vice, which, in modern times, has been desperately practised by women who in licentiousness vied with Messalina.

In France, women who wished to gamble were, at first, obliged to keep the thing secret; for if it became known they lost caste. In the reign of Louis XIV., and still more in that of Louis XV., they became bolder, and the wives of the great engaged in the deepest play in their mansions; but still a gamestress was always denounced with horror. 'Such women,' says La Bruyiere, 'make us chaste; they have nothing of the sex but its garments.'

By the end of the 18th century, gamestresses became so numerous that they excited no surprise, especially among the higher classes; and the majority of them were notorious for unfair play or downright cheating. A stranger once betted on the game of a lady at a gaming-table, who claimed a stake although on a losing card. Out of consideration for the distinguished trickstress, the banker wished to pay the stranger as well; but the latter with a blush, exclaimed—'Possibly madame won, but as for myself, I am quite sure that I lost.'

But if women cheated at play, they also frequently lost; and were often reduced to beggary, or to what is far viler, to sacrifice, not only their own honour, but that of their daughters.

Gaming sometimes led to other crimes. The Countess of Schwiechelt, a young and beautiful lady from Hanover, was much given to gambling, and lost 50,000 livres at Paris. In order to repair this great loss, she planned and executed the robbery of a fine coronet of emeralds, the property of Madame Demidoff. She had made herself acquainted with the place where it was kept, and at a ball given by its owner the Hanoverian lady contrived to purloin it. Her youth and rank in life induced many persons to solicit her pardon; but Buonaparte left her to the punishment to which she was condemned. This occurred in 1804.

In England, too, the practice of gambling was fraught with the worst consequences to the finest feelings and best qualities of the sex. The chief danger is very plainly hinted at in the comedy of The Provoked Husband.

Lord Townley.—'Tis not your ill hours that always distract me, but, as often, the ill company that occasions those hours.

Lady Townley.—Sure I don't understand you now, my lord. What ill company do I keep?

Lord Townley.—Why, at best, women that lose their money, and men that win it; or, perhaps, men that are voluntary bubbles at one game, in hopes a lady will give them fair play at another.

'The facts,' says Mr Massey,(98) 'confirm the theory. Walpole's Letters and Mr Jesse's volumes on George Selwyn and his Contemporaries, teem with allusions to proved or understood cases of matrimonial infidelity; and the manner in which notorious irregularities were brazened out, shows that the offenders did not always encounter the universal reprobation of society.

(98) History of England, ii.

'Whist was not much in vogue until a later period, and was far too abstruse and slow to suit the depraved taste which required unadulterated stimulants.'

The ordinary stakes at these mixed assemblies would, at the present day, be considered high, even at the clubs where a rubber is still allowed.

'The consequences of such gaming were often still more lamentable than those which usually attended such practices. It would happen that a lady lost more than she could venture to confess to her husband or father. Her creditor was probably a fine gentleman, or she became indebted to some rich admirer for the means of discharging her liabilities. In either event, the result may be guessed. In the one case, the debt of honour was liquidated on the old principle of the law-merchant, according to which there was but one alternative to payment in purse. In the other, there was likewise but one mode in which the acknowledgment of obligation by a fine woman would be acceptable to a man of the world.'

'The pernicious consequences of gambling to the nation at large,' says another writer, 'would have been intolerable enough had they been confined to the stronger sex; but, unfortunately, the women of the day were equally carried away by this criminal infatuation. The disgusting influence of this sordid vice was so disastrous to female minds, that they lost their fairest distinction and privileges, together with the blushing honours of modesty. Their high gaming was necessarily accompanied with great losses. If all their resources, regular and irregular, honest and fraudulent, were dissipated, still, GAME-DEBTS MUST BE PAID! The cunning winner was no stranger to the necessities of the case. He hinted at commutations—which were not to be refused.

"So tender these,—if debts crowd fast upon her, She'll pawn her VIRTUE to preserve her HONOUR!"

Thus, the last invaluable jewel of female possession was unavoidably resigned. That was indeed the forest of all evils, but an evil to which every deep gamestress was inevitably exposed.'

Hogarth strikingly illustrated this phase of womanhood in England, in his small picture painted for the Earl of Charlemont, and entitled 'Picquet, or Virtue in Danger.' It shows a young lady, who, during a tete-a-tete, had just lost all her money to a handsome officer of her own age. He is represented in the act of returning her a handful of bank-bills, with the hope of exchanging them for another acquisition and more delicate plunder. On the chimney-piece are a watch-case and a figure of Time, over it this motto—Nunc, 'Now!' Hogarth has caught his heroine during this moment of hesitation—this struggle with herself—and has expressed her feelings with uncommon success.

But, indeed, the thing was perfectly understood. In the Guardian (No. 120) we read:—'All play-debts must be paid in specie or by equivalent. The "man" that plays beyond his income pawns his estate; the "woman" must find out something else to mortgage when her pin-money is gone. The husband has his lands to dispose of; the wife her person. Now when the female body is once dipped, if the creditor be very importunate, I leave my reader to consider the consequences.'....

A lady was married when very young to a noble lord, the honour and ornament of his country, who hoped to preserve her from the contagion of the times by his own example, and, to say the truth, she had every good quality that could recommend her to the bosom of a man of discernment and worth. But, alas! how frail and short are the joys of mortals! One unfortunate hour ruined his darling visionary scheme of happiness: she was introduced to an infamous woman, was drawn into play, liked it, and, as the unavoidable consequence, she was ruined,—having lost more in one night than would have maintained a hundred useful families for a twelvemonth; and, dismal to tell, she felt compelled to sacrifice her virtue to the wretch who had won her money, in order to recover the loss! From this moment she might well exclaim—

'Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!'

The affectionate wife, the agreeable companion, the indulgent mistress, were now no more. In vain she flattered herself that the injury she had done her husband would for ever remain one of those secrets which can only be disclosed at the last day. Vengeance pursued her steps, she was lost; the villain to whom she had sacrificed herself boasted of the favours he had received. The fatal report was conveyed to her injured husband. He refused to believe what he thought impossible, but honour obliged him to call the boaster to the field. The wretch received the challenge with much more contentment than concern; as he had resolution enough to murder any man whom he had injured, so he was certain, if he had the good fortune to conquer his antagonist, he should be looked upon as the head of all modern bucks and bloods—esteemed by the men as a brave fellow, and admired by the ladies as a fine gentleman and an agreeable rake. The meeting took place—the profligate gambler not content with declaring, actually exulted in his guilt. But his triumph was of short date—a bullet through the head settled his account with this world.

The husband, after a long conflict in his bosom, between justice and mercy, tenderness and rage, resolved—on what is very seldom practised by an English husband—to pardon his wife, conceal her crime, and preserve her, if possible, from utter destruction. But the gates of mercy were opened in vain—the offender refused to receive forgiveness because she had offended. The lust of gambling had absorbed all her other desires. She gave herself up entirely to the infamous pursuit and its concomitants, whilst her husband sank by a quick decay, and died the victim of grief and anguish.(99)

(99) Doings in London.

Of other English gamestresses, however, nothing but the ordinary success or inconveniences of gambling are recorded. In the year 1776, a lady at the West End lost one night, at a sitting, 3000 guineas at Loo.(100) Again, a lady having won a rubber of 20 guineas from a city merchant, the latter pulled out his pocket-book, and tendered L21 in bank notes. The fair gamestress, with a disdainful toss of the head, observed—'In the great houses which I frequent, sir, we always use gold.' 'That may be, madam,' said the gentleman, 'but, in the LITTLE houses which I frequent, we always use paper.'

(100) Annual Register.

Goldsmith mentions an old lady in the country who, having been given over by her physician, played with the curate of the parish to pass the time away. Having won all his money, she next proposed playing for the funeral charges to which she would be liable. Unfortunately, the lady expired just as she had taken up the game!

A lady who was desperately fond of play was confessing herself. The priest represented, among other arguments against gaming, the great loss of time it occasioned. 'Ah!' said the lady, 'that is what vexes me—so much time lost in shuffling the cards!'

The celebrated Mrs Crewe seems to have been fond of gaming. Charles James Fox ranked among her admirers. A gentleman lost a considerable sum to this lady at play; and being obliged to leave town suddenly, he gave Fox the money to pay her, begging him to apologize to the lady for his not having paid the debt of honour in person. Fox unfortunately lost every shilling of it before morning. Mrs Crewe often met the supposed debtor afterwards, and, surprised that he never noticed the circumstance, at length delicately hinted the matter to him. 'Bless me,' said he, 'I paid the money to Mr Fox three months ago!' 'Oh, you did, sir?' said Mrs Crewe good-naturedly, 'then probably he paid me and I forgot it.'

This famous Mrs Crewe was the wife of Mr Crewe, who was created, in 1806, Lord Crewe. She was as remarkable for her accomplishments and her worth as for her beauty; nevertheless she permitted the admiration of the profligate Fox, who was in the rank of her admirers, and she was a gamestress, as were most of the grand ladies in those days. The lines Fox wrote on her were not exaggerated. They began thus:—

'Where the loveliest expression to features is join'd, By Nature's most delicate pencil design'd; Where blushes unhidden, and smiles without art, Speak the softness and feeling that dwell in the heart, Where in manners enchanting no blemish we trace, But the soul keeps the promise we had from the face; Sure philosophy, reason, and coldness must prove Defences unequal to shield us from love.'

'Nearly eight years after the famous election at Westminster, when she personally canvassed for Fox, Mrs Crewe was still in perfection, with a son one-and-twenty, who looked like her brother. The form of her face was exquisitely lovely, her complexion radiant. "I know not," Miss Burney writes, "any female in her first youth who could bear the comparison. She uglifies every one near her."

'This charming partisan of Fox had been active in his cause; and her originality of character, her good-humour, her recklessness of consequences, made her a capital canvasser.'(101)

(101) Wharton, The Queens of Society.

THE GAMBLING BARROW-WOMEN.

In 1776 the barrow-women of London used generally to carry dice with them, and children were induced to throw for fruit and nuts.

However, the pernicious consequences of the practice beginning to be felt, the Lord Mayor issued an order to apprehend all such offenders, which speedily put an end to such street-gambling. At the present day a sort of roulette is used for the same purpose by the itinerant caterers to the sweetmeat and fruit-loving little ones.

GAMESTRESSES AT BADEN-BADEN.

Mrs Trollope has described two specimens of the modern gamestresses at the German watering-places, one of whom seems to have specially attracted her notice:—

'There was one of this set,' she says, 'whom I watched, day after day, during the whole period of our stay, with more interest than, I believe, was reasonable; for had I studied any other as attentively I might have found less to lament.

'She was young—certainly not more than twenty-five—and, though not regularly nor brilliantly handsome, most singularly winning both in person and demeanour. Her dress was elegant, but peculiarly plain and simple,—a close white silk bonnet and gauze veil; a quiet-coloured silk gown, with less of flourish and frill, by half, than any other person; a delicate little hand which, when ungloved, displayed some handsome rings; a jewelled watch, of peculiar splendour; and a countenance expressive of anxious thoughtfulness—must be remembered by many who were at Baden in August, 1833. They must remember, too, that, enter the rooms when they would, morning, noon, or night, still they found her nearly at the same place at the Rouge et Noir table.

'Her husband, who had as unquestionably the air of a gentleman as she had of a lady, though not always close to her, was never very distant. He did not play himself, and I fancied, as he hovered near her, that his countenance expressed anxiety. But he returned her sweet smile, with which she always met his eye, with an answering smile; and I saw not the slightest indication that he wished to withdraw her from the table.

'There was an expression in the upper part of her face that my blundering science would have construed into something very foreign to the propensity she showed; but there she sat, hour after hour, day after day, not even allowing the blessed sabbath, that gives rest to all, to bring it to her;—there she sat, constantly throwing down handfuls of five-franc pieces, and sometimes drawing them back again, till her young face grew rigid from weariness, and all the lustre of her eye faded into a glare of vexed inanity. Alas! alas! is that fair woman a mother? God forbid!

'Another figure at the gaming table, which daily drew our attention, was a pale, anxious old woman, who seemed no longer to have strength to conceal her eager agitation under the air of callous indifference, which all practised players endeavour to assume. She trembled, till her shaking hand could hardly grasp the instrument with which she pushed or withdrew her pieces; the dew of agony stood upon her wrinkled brow; yet, hour after hour, and day after day, she too sat in the enchanted chair. I never saw age and station in a position so utterly beyond the pale of respect. I was assured she was a person of rank; and my informant added, but I trust she was mistaken, that she was an ENGLISH woman.'(102)

(102) Belgium and Western Germany, in 1833.

GAMING HOUSES KEPT BY LADIES.

There is no doubt that during the last half of the last century many titled ladies not only gambled, but kept gaming houses. There is even evidence that one of them actually appealed to the House of Lords for protection against the intrusion of the peace officers into her establishment in Covent Garden, on the plea of her Peerage! All this is proved by a curious record found in the Journals of the House of Lords, by the editor of the Athenaeum. It is as follows:—

'Die Lunae, 29 Aprilis, 1745.—Gaming. A Bill for preventing the excessive and deceitful use of it having been brought from the Commons, and proceeded on so far as to be agreed to in a Committee of the whole House with amendments,—information was given to the House that Mr Burdus, Chairman of the Quarter Sessions for the city and liberty of Westminster, Sir Thomas de Veil, and Mr Lane, Chairman of the Quarter Sessions for the county of Middlesex, were at the door; they were called in, and at the Bar severally gave an account that claims of privilege of Peerage were made and insisted on by the Ladies Mordington and Casselis, in order to intimidate the peace officers from doing their duty in suppressing the public gaming houses kept by the said ladies. And the said Burdus thereupon delivered in an instrument in writing under the hand of the said Lady Mordington, containing the claim she made of privilege for her officers and servants employed by her in her said gaming house. And then they were directed to withdraw. And the said instrument was read as follows:—"I, Dame Mary, Baroness of Mordington, do hold a house in the Great Piazza, Covent Garden, for and as an Assembly, where all persons of credit are at liberty to frequent and play at such diversions as are used at other Assemblys. And I have hired Joseph Dewberry, William Horsely, Ham Cropper, and George Sanders as my servants or managers (under me) thereof. I have given them orders to direct the management of the other inferior servants (namely): John Bright, Richard Davis, John Hill, John Vandenvoren, as box-keepers,—Gilbert Richardson, housekeeper, John Chaplain, regulator, William Stanley and Henry Huggins, servants that wait on the company at the said Assembly, William Penny and Joseph Penny as porters thereof. And all the above-mentioned persons I claim as my domestick servants, and demand all those privileges that belong to me as a peeress of Great Britain appertaining to my said Assembly. M. MORDINGTON. Dated 8th Jan., 1744."

'Resolved and declared that no person is entitled to privilege of Peerage against any prosecution or proceeding for keeping any public or common gaming house, or any house, room, or place for playing at any game or games prohibited by any law now in force.'

That such practice continued in vogue is evident from the police proceedings subsequently taken against

THE FAMOUS LADY BUCKINGHAMSHIRE.

This notorious gamestress of St James's Square, at the close of the last century, actually slept with a blunderbuss and a pair of pistols at her side, to protect her Faro bank.

On the 11th of March, 1797, her Ladyship, together with Lady E. Lutterell and a Mrs Sturt, were convicted at the Marlborough Street Police-court, in the penalty of L50, for playing at the game of Faro; and Henry Martindale was convicted in the sum of L200, for keeping the Faro table at Lady Buckinghamshire's. The witnesses had been servants of her Ladyship, recently discharged on account of a late extraordinary loss of 500 guineas from her Ladyship's house, belonging to the Faro bank.(103)

(103) The case is reported in the Times of March 13th, 1797. One cannot help being struck with the appearance of the Times newspaper at that period—70 years ago. It was printed on one small sheet, about equal to a single page of the present issue, and contained four pages, two of which were advertisements, while the others gave only a short summary of news—no leader at all.

In the same year, the croupier at the Countess of Buckinghamshire's one night announced the unaccountable disappearance of the cash-box of the Faro bank. All eyes were turned towards her Ladyship. Mrs Concannon said she once lost a gold snuff-box from the table, while she went to speak to Lord C—. Another lady said she lost her purse there last winter. And a story was told that a certain lady had taken, BY MISTAKE, a cloak which did not belong to her, at a rout given by the Countess of ——. Unfortunately a discovery of the cloak was made, and when the servant knocked at the door to demand it, some very valuable lace which it was trimmed with had been taken off. Some surmised that the lady who stole the cloak might also have stolen the Faro bank cash-box.

Soon after, the same Martindale, who had kept the Faro bank at Lady Buckinghamshire's, became a bankrupt, and his debts amounted to L328,000, besides 'debts of honour,' which were struck off to the amount of L150,000. His failure is said to have been owing to misplaced confidence in a subordinate, who robbed him of thousands. The first suspicion was occasioned by his purchasing an estate of L500 a year; but other purchases followed to a considerable extent; and it was soon discovered that the Faro bank had been robbed sometimes of 2000 guineas a week! On the 14th of April, 1798, other arrears, to a large amount, were submitted to, and rejected by, the Commissioners in Bankruptcy, who declared a first dividend of one shilling and five-pence in the pound.(104)

(104) Seymour Harcourt, Gaming Calendar.

This chapter cannot be better concluded than with quoting the Epilogue of 'The Oxonian in Town,' 1767, humorously painting some of the mischiefs of gambling, and expressly addressed to the ladies:—

'Lo! next, to my prophetic eye there starts A beauteous gamestress in the Queen of Hearts. The cards are dealt, the fatal pool is lost, And all her golden hopes for ever cross'd. Yet still this card-devoted fair I view—Whate'er her luck, to "honour" ever true. So tender there,—if debts crowd fast upon her, She'll pawn her "virtue" to preserve her "honour." Thrice happy were my art, could I foretell, Cards would be soon abjured by every belle! Yet, I pronounce, who cherish still the vice, And the pale vigils keep of cards and dice—'Twill in their charms sad havoc make, ye fair! Which "rouge" in vain shall labour to repair. Beauties will grow mere hags, toasts wither'd jades, Frightful and ugly as—the QUEEN OF SPADES.'



CHAPTER XI. GAMBLING POETS, SAVANTS, PHILOSOPHERS, WITS, AND STATESMEN.

Perhaps the stern moralist who may have turned over these pages has frowned at the facts of the preceding chapter. If so, I know not what he will do at those which I am about to record.

If it may be said that gamesters must be madmen, or rogues, how has it come to pass that men of genius, talent, and virtue withal, have been gamesters?

Men of genius, 'gifted men,' as they are called, are much to be pitied. One of them has said—'Oh! if my pillow could reveal my sufferings last night!' His was true grief—for it had no witness.(105) The endowments of this nature of ours are so strangely mixed—the events of our lives are so unexpectedly ruled, that one might almost prefer to have been fashioned after those imaginary beings who act so CONSISTENTLY in the nursery tales and other figments. Most men seem to have a double soul; and in your men of genius—your celebrities—the battle between the two seems like the tremendous conflict so grandly (and horribly) described by Milton. Who loved his country more than Cato? Who cared more for his country's honour? And yet Cato was not only unable to resist the soft impeachments of alcohol—

Narratur et prisci Catonis Saepe mero caluisse virtus—

but he was also a dice-player, a gambler.(106)

(105) Ille dolet vere qui sine teste dolet. Martial, lib. I.

(106) Plutarch, Cato.

Julius Caesar did not drink; but what a profligate he was! And I have no doubt that he was a gambler: it is certain that he got rid of millions nobody knew how.

I believe, however, that the following is an undeniable fact. You may find suspicious gamesters in every rank of life, but among men of genius you will generally, if not always, find only victims resigned to the caprices of fortune. The professions which imply the greatest enthusiasm naturally furnish the greater number of gamesters. Thus, perhaps, we may name ten poet-gamesters to one savant or philosopher who deserved the title or infamy.

Coquillart, a poet of the 15th century, famous for his satirical verses against women, died of grief after having ruined himself by gaming. The great painter Guido—and a painter is certainly a poet—was another example. By nature gentle and honourable, he might have been the most fortunate of men if the demon of gambling had not poisoned his existence, the end of which was truly wretched.

Rotrou, the acknowledged master of Corneille, hurried his poetical effusions in order to raise money for gambling. This man of genius was but a spoilt child in the matter of play. He once received two or three hundred louis, and mistrusting himself, went and hid them under some vine-branches, in order not to gamble all away at once. Vain precaution! On the following night his bag was empty.

The poet Voiture was the delight of his contemporaries, conspicuous as he was for the most exquisite polish and inexhaustible wit; but he was also one of the most desperate gamesters of his time. Like Rotrou, he mistrusted his folly, and sometimes refrained. 'I have discovered,' he once wrote to a friend, 'as well as Aristotle, that there is no beatitude in play; and in fact I have given over gambling; it is now seven months since I played—which is very important news, and which I forgot to tell you.' He would have died rich had he always refrained. His relapses were terrible; one night he lost fifteen hundred pistoles (about L750).

The list of foreign poets ruined by gambling might be extended; whilst, on the other hand, it is impossible, I believe, to quote a single instance of the kind among the poets of England,—perhaps because very few of them had anything to lose. The reader will probably remember Dr Johnson's exclamation on hearing of the large debt left unpaid by poor Goldsmith at his death—'Was ever poet so trusted before!'...

The great philosophers Montaigne and Descartes, seduced at an early age by the allurements of gambling, managed at length to overcome the evil, presenting examples of reformation—which proves that this mania is not absolutely incurable. Descartes became a gamester in his seventeenth year; but it is said that the combinations of cards, or the doctrine of probabilities, interested him more than his winnings.(107)

(107) Hist. des Philos. Modernes: Descartes.

The celebrated Cardan, one of the most universal and most eccentric geniuses of his age, declares in his autobiography, that the rage for gambling long entailed upon him the loss of reputation and fortune, and that it retarded his progress in the sciences. 'Nothing,' says he, 'could justify me, unless it was that my love of gaming was less than my horror of privation.' A very bad excuse, indeed; but Cardan reformed and ceased to be a gambler.

Three of the greatest geniuses of England—Lords Halifax, Anglesey, and Shaftesbury—were gamblers; and Locke tells a very funny story about one of their gambling bouts. This philosopher, who neglected nothing, however eccentric, that had any relation to the working of the human understanding, happened to be present while my Lords Halifax, Anglesey, and Shaftesbury were playing, and had the patience to write down, word for word, all their discordant utterances during the phases of the game; the result being a dialogue of speakers who only used exclamations—all talking in chorus, but more to themselves than to each other. Lord Anglesey observing Locke's occupation, asked him what he was writing. 'My Lord,' replied Locke, 'I am anxious not to lose anything you utter.' This irony made them all blush, and put an end to the game.

M. Sallo, Counsellor to the Parliament of Paris, died, says Vigneul de Marville, of a disease to which the children of the Muses are rarely subject, and for which we find no remedy in Hippocrates and Galen;—he died of a lingering disease after having lost 100,000 crowns at the gaming table—all he possessed.

By way of diversion to his cankering grief, he started the well-known Journal des Savans, but lived to write only 13 sheets of it, for he was wounded to the death.(108)

(108) Melanges, d'Hist. et de Litt. i.

The physician Paschasius Justus was a deplorable instance of an incorrigible gambler. This otherwise most excellent and learned man having passed three-fourths of his life in a continual struggle with vice, at length resolved to cure himself of the disease by occupying his mind with a work which might be useful to his contemporaries and posterity.(109) He began his book, but still he gamed; he finished it, but the evil was still in him. 'I have lost everything but God!' he exclaimed. He prayed for delivery from his soul's disease;(110) but his prayer was not heard; he died like any gambler—more wretched than reformed.

(109) 'De Alea, sive de curanda in pecuniam cupiditate,' pub. in 1560.

(110) Illum animi morbum, ut Deus tolleret, serio et frequenter optavit.

M. Dusaulx, author of a work on Gaming, exclaims therein—'I have gambled like you, Paschasius, perhaps with greater fury. Like you I write against gaming. Can I say that I am stronger than you, in more critical circumstances?'(111)

(111) La Passion du Jeu.

What, then, is that mania which can be overcome neither by the love of glory nor the study of wisdom!

The literary men of Greece and Rome rarely played any games but those of skill, such as tennis, backgammon, and chess; and even in these it was considered 'indecent' to appear too skilful. Cicero stigmatizes two of his contemporaries for taking too great a delight in such games, on account of their skill in playing them.(112)

(112) Ast alii, quia praeclare faciunt, vehementius quam causa postulat delectantur, ut Titius pila, Brulla talis. De Orat. lib. iii.

Quinctilian advised his pupils to avoid all sterile amusements, which, he said, were only the resource of the ignorant.

In after-times men of merit, such as John Huss and Cardinal Cajetan, bewailed both the time lost in the most innocent games, and the disastrous passions which are thereby excited. Montaigne calls chess a stupid and childish game. 'I hate and shun it,' he says, 'because it occupies one too seriously; I am ashamed of giving it the attention which would be sufficient for some useful purpose.' King James I., the British Solomon, forbade chess to his son, in the famous book of royal instruction which he wrote for him.

As to the plea of 'filling up time,' Addison has made some very pertinent observations:—'Whether any kind of gaming has ever thus much to say for itself, I shall not determine; but I think it is very wonderful to see persons of the best sense passing away a dozen hours together in shuffling and dividing a pack of cards, with no other conversation but what is made up of a few game-phrases, and no other ideas but those of black or red spots ranged together in different figures. Would not a man laugh to hear any one of his species complaining that life is short?'

Men of intellect may rest assured that whether they win or lose at play, it will always be at the cost of their genius; the soul cannot support two passions together. The passion of play, although fatigued, is never satiated, and therefore it always leaves behind protracted agitation. The famous Roman lawyer Scaevola suffered from playing at backgammon; his head was always affected by it, especially when he lost the game, in fact, it seemed to craze him. One day he returned expressly from the country merely to try and convince his opponent in a game which he had lost, that if he had played otherwise he would have won! It seems that on his journey home he mentally went through the game again, detected his mistake, and could not rest until he went back and got his adversary to admit the fact—for the sake of his amour propre.(113)

(113) Quinctil., Instit. Orat. lib. XI. cap. ii.

'It is rare,' says Rousseau, 'that thinkers take much delight in play, which suspends the habit of thinking or diverts it upon sterile combinations; and so one of the benefits—perhaps the only benefit conferred by the taste for the sciences, is that it somewhat deadens that sordid passion of play.'

Unfortunately such was not the result among the literary and scientific men, in France or England, during the last quarter of the last century. Many of them bitterly lamented that they ever played, and yet played on,—going through all the grades and degradations appointed for his votaries by the inexorable demon of gambling.

BEAU NASH.

Nature had by no means formed Nash for beau. His person was clumsy, large, and awkward; his features were harsh, strong, and peculiarly irregular; yet even with these disadvantages he made love, became an universal admirer of the sex, and was in his turn universally admired. The fact is, he was possessed of, at least, some requisites of a 'lover.' He had assiduity, flattery, fine clothes—and as much wit as the ladies he addressed. Accordingly he used to say—'Wit, flattery, and fine clothes are enough to debauch a nunnery!' This is certainly a fouler calumny of women than Pope's

'Every woman is at heart a rake.'

Beau Nash was a barrister, and had been a remarkable, a distinguished one in his day—although not at the bar. He had the honour to organize and direct the last grand 'revel and pageant' before a king, in the Hall of the Middle Temple, of which he was a member.

It had long been customary for the Inns of Court to entertain our monarchs upon their accession to the crown with a revel and pageant, and the last was exhibited in honour of King William, when Nash was chosen to conduct the whole with proper decorum. He was then a very young man, but succeeded so well in giving satisfaction, that the king offered to give him the honour of knighthood, which, however, Nash declined, saying:—'Please your Majesty, if you intend to make me a knight, I wish it may be one of your poor knights of Windsor; and then I shall have a fortune at least able to support my title.'

In the Middle Temple he managed to rise 'to the very summit of second-rate luxury,' and seems to have succeeded in becoming a fashionable recherche, being always one of those who were called good company—a professed dandy among the elegants.

No wonder, then, that we subsequently find him Master of the Ceremonies at Bath, then the theatre of summer amusements for all people of fashion. It was here that he took to gambling, and was at first classed among the needy adventurers who went to that place; there was, however, the great difference between him and them, that his heart was not corrupt; and though by profession a gamester, he was generous, humane, and honourable.

When he gave in his accounts to the Masters of the Temple, among other items he charged was one—'For making one man happy, L10.' Being questioned about the meaning of so strange an item, he frankly declared that, happening to overhear a poor man declare to his wife and large family of children that L10 would make him happy, he could not avoid trying the experiment. He added, that, if they did not choose to acquiesce in his charge, he was ready to refund the money. The Masters, struck with such an uncommon instance of good nature, publicly thanked him for his benevolence, and desired that the sum might be doubled as a proof of their satisfaction.

'His laws were so strictly enforced that he was styled "King of Bath:" no rank would protect the offender, nor dignity of station condone a breach of the laws. Nash desired the Duchess of Queensberry, who appeared at a dress ball in an apron of point-lace, said to be worth 500 guineas, to take it off, which she did, at the same time desiring his acceptance of it; and when the Princess Amelia requested to have one dance more after 11 o'clock, Nash replied that the laws of Bath, like those of Lycurgus, were unalterable. Gaming ran high at Bath, and frequently led to disputes and resort to the sword, then generally worn by well-dressed men. Swords were, therefore, prohibited by Nash in the public rooms; still they were worn in the streets, when Nash, in consequence of a duel fought by torchlight, by two notorious gamesters, made the law absolute, "That no swords should, on any account, be worn in Bath."'(114)

(114) The Book of Days, Feb. 3.

About the year 1739 the gamblers, in order to evade the laws against gaming, set up E O tables; and as these proved very profitable to the proprietors at Tunbridge, Nash determined to introduce them at Bath, having been assured by the lawyers that no law existed against them. He therefore set up an E O table, and the speculation flourished for a short time; but the legislature interfered in 1745, and inflicted severe penalties on the keepers of such tables. This was the ruin of Nash's gambling speculation; and for the remaining sixteen years of his life he depended solely on the precarious products of the gaming table. He died at Bath, in 1761, in greatly reduced circumstances, being represented as 'poor, old, and peevish, yet still incapable of turning from his former manner of life.'

'He was buried in the Abbey Church with great ceremony: a solemn hymn was sung by the charity-school children, three clergymen preceded the coffin, the pall was supported by aldermen, and the Masters of the Assembly-Rooms followed as chief mourners; while the streets were filled and the housetops covered with spectators, anxious to witness the respect paid to the venerable founder of the prosperity of the city of Bath.'(115)

(115) The Book of Days, Feb. 3.

The following are the chief anecdotes told of Beau Nash.

A giddy youth, who had resigned his fellowship at Oxford, brought his fortune to Bath, and, without the smallest skill, won a considerable sum; and following it up, in the next October added four thousand pounds to his former capital. Nash one night invited him to supper, and offered to give him fifty guineas to forfeit twenty every time he lost two hundred at one sitting. The young man refused, and was at last undone.

The Duke of B—— loved play to distraction. One night, chagrined at a heavy loss, he pressed Nash to tie him up from deep play in future. The beau accordingly gave his Grace one hundred guineas on condition to receive ten thousand whenever he lost that amount at one sitting. The duke soon lost eight thousand at Hazard, and was going to throw for three thousand more, when Nash caught the dice-box, and entreated the peer to reflect on the penalty if he lost. The duke desisted for that time; but ere long, losing considerably at Newmarket, he willingly paid the penalty.

When the Earl of T—— was a youth he was passionately fond of play. Nash undertook to cure him. Conscious of his superior skill, he engaged the earl in single play. His lordship lost his estate, equipage, everything! Our generous gamester returned all, only stipulating for the payment of L5000 whenever he might think proper to demand it. Some time after his lordship's death, Nash's affairs being on the wane, he demanded it of his heirs, WHO PAID IT WITHOUT HESITATION.

Nash one day complained of his ill luck to the Earl of Chesterfield, adding that he had lost L500 the last night. The earl replied, 'I don't wonder at your LOSING money, Nash, but all the world is surprised where you get it to lose.'

'The Corporation of Bath so highly respected Nash, that the Chamber voted a marble statue of him, which was erected in the Pump-room, between the busts of Newton and Pope; this gave rise to a stinging epigram by Lord Chesterfield, concluding with these lines:

"The STATUE placed these busts between Gives satire all its strength; WISDOM and WIT are little seen, But FOLLY at full length."'(116)

(116) The Book of Days, Feb. 3.

THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD.

Walpole tells us that the celebrated Earl of Chesterfield LIVED at White's Club, gaming, and uttering witticisms among the boys of quality; 'yet he says to his son, that a member of a gaming club should be a cheat, or he will soon be a beggar;' an inconsistency which reminds one of old Fuller's saw—'A father that whipt his son for swearing, and swore himself whilst he whipt him, did more harm by his example than good by his correction.'

GEORGE SELWYN.

The character of Selwyn,' says Mr Jesse, 'was in many respects a remarkable one. With brilliant wit, a quick perception of the ridiculous, and a thorough knowledge of the world and human nature, he united classical knowledge and a taste for the fine arts. To these qualities may be added others of a very contradictory nature. With a thorough enjoyment of the pleasures of society, an imperturbable good-humour, a kind heart, and a passionate fondness for children, he united a morbid interest in the details of human suffering, and, more especially, a taste for witnessing criminal executions. Not only was he a constant frequenter of such scenes of horror, but all the details of crime, the private history of the criminal, his demeanour at his trial, in the dungeon, and on the scaffold, and the state of his feelings in the hour of death and degradation, were to Selwyn matters of the deepest and most extraordinary interest. Even the most frightful particulars relating to suicide and murder, the investigation of the disfigured corpse, the sight of an acquaintance lying in his shroud, seem to have afforded him a painful and unaccountable pleasure. When the first Lord Holland was on his death-bed he was told that Selwyn, who had lived on terms of the closest intimacy with him, had called to inquire after his health. "The next time Mr Selwyn calls," he said, "show him up; if I am alive I shall be delighted to see him, and if I am dead he will be glad to see me." When some ladies bantered him on his want of feeling in attending to see the terrible Lord Lovat's head cut off—"Why," he said, "I made amends by going to the undertaker's to see it sewed on again." And yet this was the same individual who delighted in the first words and in the sunny looks of childhood; whose friendship seems to have partaken of all the softness of female affection; and whose heart was never hardened against the wretched and depressed. Such was the "original" George Selwyn.'

This celebrated conversational wit was a devoted frequenter of the gaming table. Writing to Selwyn, in 1765, Lord Holland said:—'All that I can collect from what you say on the subject of money is, that fortune has been a little favourable lately; or may be, the last night only. Till you leave off play entirely you must be—in earnest, and without irony—en verite le serviteur tres-humble des evenements, "in truth, the very humble servant of events."'

His friend the Lord Carlisle, although himself a great gambler, also gave him good advice. 'I hope you have left off Hazard,' he wrote to Selwyn; 'if you are still so foolish, and will play, the best thing I can wish you is, that you may win and never throw crabs.(117) You do not put it in the power of chance to make you them, as we all know; and till the ninth miss is born I shall not be convinced to the contrary.'

(117) That is, aces, or ace and deuce, twelve, or seven. With false dice, as will appear in the sequel, it was impossible to throw any of these numbers, and as the caster always called the main, he was sure to win, as he could call an impossible number: those who were in the secret of course always took the odds.

Again:—'As you have played I am happy to hear you have won; but by this time there may be a triste revers de succes.'

Selwyn had taken to gaming before his father's death—probably from his first introduction to the clubs. His stakes were high, though not extravagantly so, compared with the sums hazarded by his contemporaries. In 1765 he lost L1000 to Mr Shafto, who applied for it in the language of an 'embarrassed tradesman.'

'July 1, 1765.

'DEAR SIR,—I have this moment received the favour of your letter. I intended to have gone out of town on Thursday, but as you shall not receive your money before the end of this week, I must postpone my journey till Sunday. A month would have made no difference to me, had I not had others to pay before I leave town, and must pay; therefore must beg that you will leave the whole before this week is out, at White's, as it is to be paid away to others to whom I have lost, and do not choose to leave town till that is done. Be sure you could not wish an indulgence I should not be happy to grant, if it my power.'

Nor was this the only dun of the kind that Selwyn had 'to put up with' on account of the gaming table. He received the following from Edward, Earl of Derby.(118)

(118) Edward, twelfth Earl of Derby, was born September 12, 1752, and died October 21, 1834. He married first, Elizabeth, daughter of James, sixth Duke of Hamilton, who died in 1799, and secondly, the celebrated actress, Miss Farren, who died April 23, 1829.

The Earl of Derby to George Selwyn.

'Nothing could equal what I feel at troubling you with this disagreeable note; but having lost a very monstrous sum of money last night, I find myself under the necessity of entreating your goodness to excuse the liberty I am taking of applying to you for assistance. If it is not very inconvenient to you, I should be glad of the money you owe me. If it is, I must pay what I can, and desire Brookes to trust me for the remainder. I repeat again my apologies, to which I shall beg leave to add how very sincerely I have the honour to be, my dear sir,

'Your most obedient humble servant, 'DEBBY.

This is the very model of a dun, and proves how handsomely such ugly things can be done when one has to deal with a noble instead of a plebeian creditor.

But Selwyn had not only to endure such indignities, but also to inflict them, as appears by the following letter to him from the Honourable General Fitzpatrick, in answer to a dun, which, we are assured, was 'gentle and moderate.'

'I am very sorry to hear the night ended so ill; but to give you some idea of the utter impossibility of my being useful on the occasion, I will inform you of the state of my affairs. I won L400 last night, which was immediately appropriated by Mr Martindale, to whom I still owe L300, and I am in Brookes' book for thrice that sum. Add to all this, that at Christmas I expect an inundation of clamorous creditors, who, unless I somehow or other scrape together some money to satisfy them, will overwhelm me entirely. What can be done? If I could coin my heart, or drop my blood into drachms, I would do it, though by this time I should probably have neither heart nor blood left. I am afraid you will find Stephen in the same state of insolvency. Adieu! I am obliged to you for the gentleness and moderation of your dun, considering how long I have been your debtor.