ase, the
bank was a winner, and Lord Robert bagged, as his share of the
proceeds, 100,000L. He retired, strange to say, from the foetid
atmosphere of play, with the money in his pocket, and never again
gambled. George Harley Drummond, of the famous banking-house, Charing
Cross, only played once in his whole life at White's Club at whist, on
which occasion he lost 20,000L. to Brummell. This event caused him to
retire from the banking-house of which he was a partner.

Lord Carlisle was one of the most remarkable victims amongst the
players at Brookes', and Charles Fox, his friend, was not more
fortunate, being subsequently always in pecuniary difficulties. Many a
time, after a long night of hard play, the loser found himself at the
Israelitish establishment of Howard and Gibbs, then the fashionable and
patronized money-lenders. These gentlemen never failed to make hard
terms with the borrower, although ample security was invariably
demanded.

The Guards' Club was established for the three regiments of Foot
Guards, and was conducted upon a military system. Billiards and low
whist were the only games indulged in. The dinner was, perhaps, better
than at most clubs, and considerably cheaper. I had the honour of
being a member for several years, during which time I have nothing to
remember but the most agreeable incidents. Arthur's and Graham's were
less aristocratic than those I have mentioned; it was at the latter,
thirty years ago, that a most painful circumstance took place. A
nobleman of the highest position and influence in society was detected
in cheating at cards, and after a trial, which did not terminate in his
favour, he died of a broken heart.

Upon one occasion, some gentlemen of both White's and Brookes' had the
honour to dine with the Prince Regent, and during the conversation, the
Prince inquired what sort of dinners they got at their clubs; upon
which, Sir Thomas Stepney, one of the guests, observed that their
dinners were always the same, "the eternal joints, or beefsteaks, the
boiled fowl with oyster sauce, and an apple tart--this is what we have,
sir, at our clubs, and very monotonous fare it is." The Prince,
without further remark, rang the bell for his cook, Wattier, and, in
the presence of those who dined at the Royal table, asked him whether
he would take a house and organize a dinner club. Wattier assented,
and named Madison, the Prince's page, manager, and Labourie, the cook,
from the Roy