The Gaming Table: Its Votaries and Victims Volume 1 Part 23

He was educated at Eton, graduated at King's College, Cambridge, as Bachelor of Arts in 1801, and Master of Arts in 1804, and obtained a fellows.h.i.+p, having also a curacy at Tiverton, held conjointly. Some six years after he appeared in print as a denouncer of a 'ghost story,' and in 1812, as the author of 'Hypocrisy,' a satirical poem, and 'Napoleon,'

a poem. In 1818 he was presented by his college to the vicarage of Kew with Petersham, in Surrey. Two years after he established a literary reputation--lasting to the present time--by the publication of a volume of aphorisms or maxims, under the t.i.tle of 'LACON; or, Many Things in Few Words.' This work is very far from original, being founded mainly on Lord Bacon's celebrated Essays, and Burdon's 'Materials for Thinking,'

La Bruyiere, and De la Rochefoucault; still it is highly creditable to the abilities of the writer. It has pa.s.sed through several editions; and even at the present time its only rival is, 'The Guesses at Truth,'

although we have numerous collections of apothegmatic extracts from authors, a cla.s.s of works which is not without its fascination, if readers are inclined to _THINK._(129)

(129) The first work I published was of this kind, and ent.i.tled, 'Gems of Genius; or, Words of the Wise, with extracts from the Diary of a Young Man,' in 1838.

Two years after he returned to his 'Napoleon,' which he republished, with extensive additions, under the new t.i.tle of 'The Conflagration of Moscow.

It would appear that Colton at this period gave in to the fas.h.i.+onable gaming of the day; at any rate, he dabbled deeply in Spanish bonds, became involved in pecuniary difficulties, and, without investigating his affairs closely--which might have been easily arranged--he absconded.

He subsequently made appearance, in order to retain his living; but in 1828 he lost it, a successor being appointed by his college. He then went to the United States of America; what he did there is not on record; but he subsequently returned to Europe, went to Paris, took up his abode in the Palais Royal, and--devoted his talents to the mysteries of the gaming table, by which he was so successful that in the course of a year or two he won L25,000!

Oddly enough, one of his 'maxims' in his Lacon runs as follows: 'The gamester, if he die a martyr to his profession, is doubly ruined. He adds his soul to every other loss, and, by the act of suicide, renounces earth, to forfeit heaven.'

It has been suggested that this was writing his own epitaph, and it would appear so from the notices of the man in most of the biographies; but nothing could be further from the fact. Caleb Colton managed to _KEEP_ his gambling fortune, and what is more, devoted it to a worthy purpose. Part of his wealth he employed in forming a picture-gallery; and he printed at Paris, for private distribution, an ode on the death of Lord Byron. He certainly committed suicide, but the act was not the gamester's martyrdom. He was afflicted by a disease which necessitated some painful surgical operation, and rather than submit to it, he blew out his brains, at the house of a friend, at Fontainebleau, in 1832.(130)

(130) Gent. Mag. New Month. Mag. Gorton's Gen. Biograph. Dict.

BEAU BRUMMELL.

This singular man was an inveterate gambler, and for some time very 'lucky;' but the reaction came at last; the stakes were too high, and the purses of his companions too long for him to stand against any continued run of bad luck; indeed, the play at Wattier's, which was very deep, eventually ruined the club, as well as Brummell and several other members of it; a certain baronet now living, according to Captain Jesse, is a.s.serted to have lost ten thousand pounds there at _Ecarte_ at one sitting.(131)

(131) Life of Beau Brummell.

The season of 1814 saw Brummell a winner, and a loser likewise--and this time he lost not only his winnings, but 'an unfortunate ten thousand pounds,' which, when relating the circ.u.mstance to a friend many years afterwards, he said was all that remained at his banker's. One night--the fifth of a most relentless run of ill-luck--his friend Pemberton Mills heard him exclaim that he had lost every s.h.i.+lling, and only wished some one would bind him never to play again:--'I will,'

said Mills; and taking out a ten-pound note he offered it to Brummell on condition that he should forfeit a thousand if he played at White's within a month from that evening. The Beau took it, and for a few days discontinued coming to the club; but about a fortnight after Mills, happening to go in, saw him hard at work. Of course the thousand pounds was forfeited; but his friend, instead of claiming it, merely went up to him and, touching him gently on the shoulder, said--'Well, Brummell, you may at least give me back the ten pounds you had the other night.'

Among the members who indulged in high play at Brookes' Club was Alderman Combe, the brewer, who is said to have made as much money in this way as he did by brewing. One evening whilst he filled the office of Lord Mayor, he was busy at a full Hazard table at Brookes', where the wit and the dice-box circulated together with great glee, and where Beau Brummell was one of the party. 'Come, Mash-tub,' said Brummell, who was the _caster_, 'what do you _set?_' 'Twenty-five guineas,' answered the Alderman. 'Well, then,' returned the Beau, 'have at the mare's pony' (a gaming term for 25 guineas). He continued to throw until he drove home the brewer's twelve ponies running; and then getting up, and making him a low bow, whilst pocketing the cash, he said--'Thank you, Alderman; for the future I shall never drink any porter but yours.' 'I wish, sir,'

replied the brewer, 'that every other blackguard in London would tell me the same.'(132)

(132) Jesse, _ubi supra_.

The following occurrence must have caused a 'sensation' to poor Brummell.

Among the members of Wattier's Club was Bligh, a notorious madman, of whom Mr Raikes relates:--'One evening at the Macao table, when the play was very deep, Brummell, having lost a considerable stake, affected, in his farcical way, a very tragic air, and cried out--"Waiter, bring me a flat candlestick and a pistol." Upon which Bligh, who was sitting opposite to him, calmly produced two loaded pistols from his coat pocket, which he placed on the table, and said, "Mr Brummell, if you are really desirous to put a period to your existence, I am extremely happy to offer you the means without troubling the waiter." The effect upon those present may easily be imagined, at finding themselves in the company of a known madman who had loaded weapons about him.'

Brummell was at last completely beggared, though for some time he continued to hold on by the help of funds raised on the mutual security of himself and his friends, some of whom were not in a much more flouris.h.i.+ng condition than himself; their names, however, and still more, their expectations, lent a charm to their bills, in the eyes of the usurers, and money was procured, of course at ruinous interest. It is said that some unpleasant circ.u.mstances, connected with the division of one of these loans, occasioned the Beau's expatriation, and that a personal altercation took place between Brummell and a certain Mr M--, when that gentleman accused him of taking the lion's share.

He died in utter poverty, and an idiot, at Caen, in the year 1840, aged 62 years. Brummell had a very odd way of accounting for the sad change which took place in his affairs. He said that up to a particular period of his life everything prospered with him, and that he attributed good luck to the possession of a certain silver sixpence with a hole in it, which somebody had given him years before, with an injunction to take good care of it, as everything would go well with him so long as he did, and the reverse if he happened to lose it. The promised prosperity attended him for many years, whilst he held the sixpence fast; but having at length, in an evil hour, unfortunately given it by mistake to a hackney-coachman, a complete reverse of his previous good fortune ensued, till actual ruin overtook him at last, and obliged him to expatriate himself. 'On my asking him,' says the narrator, 'why he did not advertise and offer a reward for the lost treasure; he said, "I did, and twenty people came with sixpences having holes in them to obtain the promised reward, but mine was not amongst them!" And you never afterwards,' said I, 'ascertained what became of it? "Oh yes," he replied, "no doubt that rascal Rothschild, or some of his set, got hold of it."' Whatever poor Brummell's supernatural tendencies may have generally been, he had unquestionably a superst.i.tious veneration for his lost sixpence.

TOM DUNCOMBE.

Tom Duncombe graduated and took honours among the greatest gamblers of the day. Like Fox, he was heir to a good fortune--ten or twelve thousand a year--the whole of which he managed to antic.i.p.ate before he was thirty. 'Tom Duncombe ran Charles Fox close. When Mr Duncombe, sen., of Copgrove, caused his prodigal son's debts to be estimated with a view to their settlement, they were found to exceed L135,000;(133) and the hopeful heir went on adding to them till all possibility of extrication was at an end. But he spent his money (or other people's money), so long as he had any, like a gentleman; his heart was open like his hand; he was generous, cordial, high-spirited; and his expectations--till they were known to be discounted to the uttermost farthing--kept up his credit, improved his social position, and gained friends. "Society"

(says his son) "opened its arms to the possessor of a good name and the inheritor of a good estate. Paterfamiliases and Materfamiliases rivalled each other in endeavouring to make things pleasant in their households for his particular delectation, especially if they had grown-up daughters; hospitable hosts invited him to dinner, fas.h.i.+onable matrons to b.a.l.l.s; political leaders sought to secure him as a partisan; _DEBUTANTES_ of the season endeavoured to attract him as an admirer; _TRADESMEN THRONGED TO HIS DOORSTEPS FOR HIS CUSTOM_, and his table was daily covered with written applications for his patronage." _n.o.blesse oblige;_ and so does fas.h.i.+on. The aspirant had confessedly a hard time of it. "He must be seen at Tattersall's as well as at Almack's; be more frequent in attendance in the green-room of the theatre than at a _levee_ in the palace; show as much readiness to enter into a pigeon-match at Battersea Red House, as into a flirtation in May Fair; distinguish himself in the hunting-field as much as at the dinner-table; and make as effective an appearance in the park as in the senate; in short, he must be everything--not by turns, but all at once--sportsman, exquisite, gourmand, rake, senator, and at least a dozen other variations of the man of fas.h.i.+on,--his changes of character being often quicker than those attempted by certain actors who nightly undertake the performance of an entire _dramatis personae_."'

(133) It will be remembered that when Fox's debts were in like manner estimated they amounted to L140,000: the coincidence is curious. See ante.

Tommy Duncombe was not only indefatigable at Crockford's, but at every other rendezvous of the votaries of fortune; a skilful player withal, and not unfrequently a winner beyond expectation. One night at Crockford's he astonished the house by carrying off sixteen hundred pounds. He frequently played at cards with Count D'Orsay, from whom, it is said, he invariably managed to win--the Count persisting in playing with his pleasant companion, although warned by others that he would never be a match for 'Honest Tommy Duncombe.'

Tom Duncombe died poor, but, says his son, 'rich in the memory of those who esteemed him, as Honest Tom Duncombe.'

Perhaps the best thing the son could have done was to leave his father's memory at rest in the estimation of 'those who esteemed him;' but having dragged his name once more, and prominently, before a censorious world, he can scarcely resent the following estimate of Tom Duncombe, by a well-informed reviewer in the _Times_. Alluding to the concluding summary of the father's character and doings, this keen writer pa.s.ses a sentence which is worth preserving:--

'Much of this would do for a patriot and philanthropist of the highest cla.s.s--for a Pym, a Hampden, or a Wilberforce; or, we could fancy, a son of Andrew Marvell, vowing over his grave "to endeavour to imitate the virtues and emulate the self-sacrificing patriotism of so estimable a parent, and so good a man." But we can hardly fancy, we cannot leave, a son of Duncombe in such a frame of mind. We cannot say to _HIM_--

Macte nova virtute, puer; sic itur ad astra. "In virtue renewed go on; thus to the skies we go."

We are unfeignedly reluctant to check a filial effusion, or to tell disagreeable truths; but there are occasions when a sense of public duty imperatively requires them to be told.

'Why did this exemplary parent die poor? When did he abandon the allurements of a patrician circle? He died poor because he wasted a fine fortune. If he abandoned a patrician circle, it was because he was tired of it, or thought he could make a better thing of democracy. If he conquered his pa.s.sions, it was, like St Evremond--by indulging them.

'"Honest Tom Duncombe!" We never heard him so designated before except in pleasantry. "As honest as any man living, that is an old man, and not honester than I." We cannot go further than Verges; it is a stretch of charity to go so far when we call to mind the magnificent reversion and the French jobs. A ruined spendthrift, although he may have many good qualities, can never, strictly speaking, be termed honest. It is absurd to say of him that he is n.o.body's enemy but his own--with family, friends, and tradespeople paying the penalty for his self-indulgence.

He must be satisfied to be called honourable--to be charged with no transgression of the law of honour; which Paley defines as "a system of rules constructed by people of fas.h.i.+on, and calculated to facilitate their intercourse with one another, _AND FOR NO OTHER PURPOSE_."

'There was one quality of honesty, however, which "honest Tom Duncombe"

did possess. He was not a hypocrite. He was not devoid of right feeling.

He had plenty of good sense; and it would have given him a sickening pang on his death-bed to think that his frailties were to be perpetuated by his descendants; that he was to be pointed out as a s.h.i.+ning star to guide, instead of a beacon-fire to warn. "No," he would have said, if he could have antic.i.p.ated this most ill-chosen, however well-intentioned, tribute, "spare me this terrible irony. Do not provoke the inevitable retort. Say of me, if you must say anything, that I was not a bad man, though an erring one; that I was kindly disposed towards my fellow-creatures; that I did some good in my generation, and was able and willing to do more, but that I heedlessly wasted time, money, health, intellect, personal gifts, social advantages and opportunities; that my career was a failure, and my whole scheme of life a melancholy mistake."'(134)

(134) _Times_, Jan. 7, 1868.

This is a terrible rejoinder to a son endeavouring to raise a monument to his beloved and respected parent. But, if we will rake up rottenness from the grave--rottenness in which we are interested--we must take our chance whether we shall find a Hamlet who will say, 'Alas! poor Yorick!'

and say _NO MORE_ than the musing Dane upon the occasion.

WAS THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON A GAMESTER?

A few years after the battle of Waterloo there appeared a French work ent.i.tled '_L'Academie des Jeux_, par Philidor,' which was soon translated into English, and here published under the t.i.tle of 'Rouge et Noir; or, the Academies.' It was a denunciation of gambling in all its varieties, and was, no doubt, well-intentioned. There was, however, in the publication the following astounding statement:--

'Not long ago the carriage of the heir-apparent to the T***** of England, in going to his B****'s levee, was arrested for debt in the open street. That great captain, who gained, if not laurels, an immense treasure, on the plains of Wa****oo, besides that fortune transmitted to him by the English people, was impoverished in a few months by this ign.o.ble pa.s.sion.'

There can be no doubt that the alleged gambling of the great warrior and statesman was the public scandal of the day, as appears by the duke's own letters on the subject, published in the last volume of his _Dispatches_. Even the eminent counsel, Mr Adolphus, thought proper to allude to the report in one of his speeches at the bar. This called forth the following letter from the duke to Mr Adolphus:--

'17 Sept., 1823. 'The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Adolphus, and encloses him the "Morning Chronicle" of Friday, the 12th instant, to which the duke's attention has just been called, in which Mr Adolphus will observe that he is stated to have represented the duke as a person _KNOWN SOMETIMES TO PLAY AT HAZARD, WHO MIGHT BE COMMITTED AS A ROGUE AND VAGABOND_.