Chapter Sixteen

THE UNFORGIVABLE SIN

There are only two unforgiveable sins: buggery, and cheating at cards.

—CAPTAIN DONALD SHAW, LONDON IN THE SIXTIES

Gambling was Bertie’s third vice, after women and dining. Indeed, at a time and place where an appetite for wine, women, and song was regarded as appropriate for a future head of state, it is scarcely surprising that Bertie indulged in that other great pastime, gambling. In Bertie’s case, horse racing was indeed the sport of kings, and so were many other games of chance. Having grown rather portly, Bertie had forsworn dancing after dinner in favor of more sedentary pursuits, so gaming represented an alternative form of entertainment. Bertie had recently introduced baccarat from the Continent, and although the High Court had declared it illegal, the game was frequently played at fashionable house parties. Indeed, Bertie enjoyed playing baccarat so much that he traveled with his own set of baccarat counters engraved with the Prince of Wales’s feathers and ranging in denomination from five shillings to ten pounds. (Ten pounds in 1889 was the equivalent of £250 a century later, so one can gain some idea of the massive gains and losses for the winners and losers.1) It was baccarat that Bertie chose to play on the fateful weekend that he went to stay at Tranby Croft.

When Bertie made arrangements to attend Doncaster races in September 1890, he initially planned to stay with Christopher Sykes at Brantingham Thorpe in the East Riding of Yorkshire. But Sykes, after years of playing the affable stooge who allowed Bertie to pour brandy over him, was bankrupt from entertaining the prince, and Brantingham Thorpe was now in the hands of his creditors.2

Bertie then decided to stay at Tranby Croft, home of Arthur Wilson, a wealthy ship manufacturer. Having invited the Prince of Wales, the Wilsons were of course obliged to ask the rest of his entourage, including Daisy and Daisy’s husband, Brookie, who always accompanied his wife for appearances’ sake. Also on the guest list were the Earl and Countess of Coventry, the banker Reuben Sassoon, General Owen Williams, who had been Bertie’s equerry during the Indian tour, Christopher Sykes, Sub-Lieutenant Berkeley Levett, and Lord Edward Somerset and his cousin Arthur. The Wilsons’ son Stanley would also be present and their daughter Ethel, with her husband, Edward Lycett Green, master of the York and Ainstey Foxhounds. Daisy was looking forward to the visit, but on September 6 Daisy’s beloved stepfather, Lord Rosslyn, died, and she had to cancel the trip.

One guest who did attend, however, was Sir William Alexander Gordon Gordon-Cumming, Lieutenant Colonel of the Scots Guards. Dashing Gordon-Cumming had inherited Gordonstoun castle and a 38,000-acre estate in Scotland, although his family had been on the decline ever since the death of his ancestor, the Red Comyn, at the hands of Robert the Bruce.3 A friend of Bertie’s for over twenty years, Gordon-Cumming was described by Daisy as “the smartest of men about town,”4 and also one of the most handsome, tall, and strong with his face deeply tanned from army service in Africa and India. Gordon-Cumming was also an incorrigible womanizer, whose stated intention was to “perforate members of the sex.”5 He favored uncomplicated relationships with married women, and his lovers included Lillie Langtry, Sarah Bernhardt, and Lady Randolph Churchill. On one occasion, shortly after Leonie Churchill had married Sir John Leslie, Gordon-Cumming pounced on her in a corridor and when she broke away exclaimed: “You silly little fool, all the married women try me!”6 Gordon-Cumming fitted into the Prince of Wales’s set perfectly.

The guests arrived at Tranby Croft on September 8, and after dinner Bertie suggested a game of baccarat in the library. This caused Bertie’s hosts much consternation as the Wilsons did not possess a baccarat table because Arthur Wilson did not approve of the game and did not want to encourage his young sons to play for high stakes.7 But who could refuse the Prince of Wales? The Wilsons swiftly improvised a baccarat table by putting three small whist tables together and covering them with a strip of tapestry.

Bertie took on the role of bank, seated at the center table, flanked by other players. Other guests who were not playing stood around to watch; drinks were poured, and cigars lit. Reuben Sassoon took charge of the counters and kept a note of which counters the players had received. For the benefit of beginners, Bertie and Gordon-Cumming explained the rules.8

Baccarat is a very simple game. Four packs of cards, 208 cards altogether, are shuffled and placed in front of the banker. The banker deals two cards to the player on his right, two to the player on his left, and takes two himself. The object of the players is to make up as nearly as possible the number nine, tens and court cards not counting—perhaps a three and a five, or a four and a five. For this purpose they may ask each other for another card, but in doing so they must not spoil the hand by exceeding the number nine, so it is customary to ask for another card only if the first two add up to five or less. Similarly, the banker may also take another card, his decision depending partly on the amount of money that has been staked on one side and on the other. The rest of the players hold no cards but simply bet on those held by the players on either side of the banker.9

In this instance, the bank’s liability was limited to £100 (around £9,000 today). An experienced player, Gordon-Cumming had a white sheet of paper in front of him, upon which he marked, with pencil dots, every time the bank won and every time the players won, “trying to match science against chance.”10 He discussed, with his neighbor, young Stanley Wilson, how difficult it was to distinguish the counters against the tapestry table covering. Gordon-Cumming suggested that everyone put their stakes on the white paper, so that they might more clearly be seen. The other players were reluctant to do this, and in the end it was only Gordon-Cumming who placed his stakes on the white paper, where they could clearly be seen.

Most of the guests were playing for small stakes, but Gordon-Cumming was playing a rather more daring game, usually wagering £5 (nearly £500 today) for a coup, and up to £25 (£2,250); his system, known as coup de trois, or masse en avant, was to leave his stake on, as if he’d won the coup, and add another £5 and his winnings to it for the next coup. When he lost, he handed his stake up to the croupier on the sheet of white paper because the counters could not be raked in, as would be the normal procedure, because the tables were uneven.11

At the very beginning of the game, Stanley Wilson noticed a single bright red £5 counter on Gordon-Cumming’s sheet of white paper. Then his attention was distracted, and when he looked back again, there were three bright red counters. The cards were favorable, and Gordon-Cumming was paid £15. Stanley Wilson became suspicious. A little later, Stanley was convinced he saw Gordon-Cumming drop three red counters from his hands onto the white paper and add to his stake once the cards had been declared favorable: in a harsh whisper, Stanley turned to the man on the other side of him, his friend Sub-Lieutenant Berkeley Levett, and hissed: “This is too hot! The man next to me is cheating!”12

“Impossible,” came the reply.

“Well, look for yourself!” Stanley retorted, and Levett, after watching for some minutes, agreed. “This is too hot!”13

The game continued for around an hour and a half, and afterward Bertie congratulated Gordon-Cumming on his good luck.

“Why, sir,” replied Gordon-Cumming, “I could not help winning with such a tableaux as this,” and showed Bertie the record he had kept on the piece of paper.

After the party had broken up for the night, Stanley followed Levett back to his room. Levett threw himself across the bed and exclaimed: “My God! To think of it! Lieutenant-Colonel Sir William Gordon-Cumming caught cheating at cards!”14

“What are we going to do?” asked Stanley.

“For God’s sake, don’t ask me! He’s in my regiment and was my own captain for a year and a half! What can I do?”15

Stanley replied that he would have a word with his brother-in-law, Edward Lycett Green, in the morning, then went to his mother’s dressing room to tell her what had happened. But Mrs. Wilson begged her son to remain silent about the matter. The last thing Mrs. Wilson wanted was a scandal at Tranby Croft.

“I think I can stop him,” Stanley replied, and explained that, for tomorrow evening’s entertainment, he had asked the butler to provide a long table from the pantry and cover it with green baize.16

The following morning, Stanley spoke with his brother-in-law and told him he had seen Gordon-Cumming cheating. Lycett Green was as astonished by this news as Levett had been, unable to believe that a man who held such an elevated position in society would risk his reputation in this way. “It is not possible!” declared Lycett Green. Stanley replied that it was, and that Berkeley Levett had also witnessed Gordon-Cumming cheating.17

Later that day, the house party went off to Doncaster races by special train, and was royally entertained at the Wilsons’ box in the members’ grandstand at Town Moor racecourse. Bertie’s two-year-old filly, Pierrette, won the Clumber Stakes, and the party returned happily to Tranby Croft. No mention had been made of Gordon-Cumming’s suspect behavior the night before.

After dinner, Bertie once again suggested they play baccarat. A long narrow table covered with green baize had been set up in the billiard room, between the billiard table and the fireplace. Bertie drew a chalk line right around it, about six inches from the edge, behind which the players were supposed to keep their counters when not in play. On the way in, Stanley whispered to Mrs. Wilson that now all would be well, because the players had a proper baccarat table with a chalk line on it.

Once again, Bertie took the bank, and General Williams acted as croupier. When Gordon-Cumming arrived there were only two seats left, and wherever he sat he would be surrounded by members of the Wilson family. Gordon-Cumming sat next to Ethel Lycett Green, and directly opposite him was Berkeley Levett, who had witnessed Gordon-Cumming cheating the night before. The table was still not a proper baccarat table: at only three feet wide, it was too narrow, and it was difficult to keep the counters behind the chalk line and off the edge of the table. Edward Lycett Green had told Stanley that he intended to keep an eye on Gordon-Cumming, and if he saw him cheating he would denounce him then and there, contributing to the atmosphere of suspense.

Half an hour into the game, Lycett Green thought he saw Gordon-Cumming push a blue counter over the line; he became suspicious, but none of the other watchers seemed to notice anything wrong. Then Gordon-Cumming staked a red £5 counter four inches beyond the line. Stanley Wilson thought he also pushed a £10 brown counter just over the line or, as Lycett Green thought, just on the line.

The bank lost, and had to pay out. Gordon-Cumming said to the prince, “There’s another tenner, sir, to come here.”18 At which, Bertie told General Williams to give him another tenner, and then told Gordon-Cumming, “I wish you would put your counters so that they can be seen better.” Ethel Lycett Green thought Gordon-Cumming pushed the counter forward as he said he had not been paid; then she thought he pushed a counter forward under a piece of paper.19

Convinced that he had seen an act of cheating, Lycett Green left the table and went into the smoking room next door. After wondering what to do, he wrote a note to his mother-in-law, Mrs. Wilson, telling her that Gordon-Cumming had been cheating and telling her to stop the game. He gave the note to Mrs. Wilson, who read it, but did not immediately stop the game. Indeed, she, too, thought she had just witnessed an act of cheating, as Gordon-Cumming appeared to push a counter over the line with his pencil. Lycett Green went back to the table and the game continued for the rest of the evening. With Stanley Wilson holding the cards, Lycett Green won five successive coups, winning money for himself and more for Gordon-Cumming, who was betting heavily.

The next morning, news came that Mrs. Wilson’s brother had died suddenly. Despite this tragic news, she begged her guests to continue as before, to go and enjoy the racing and then return to Tranby Croft in the evening.

The party did as Mrs. Wilson wished and traveled, as before, by special train to Doncaster races, where they were to watch the most significant race of the meeting, the St. Leger. During the journey, Lycett Green found himself sharing a carriage with fellow guest Lord Edward Somerset and confided his suspicions about Gordon-Cumming. Lord Edward said that he would consult his cousin, Captain Arthur Somerset. Captain Somerset was “dumbfounded” by the allegations but more significantly realized the implications of this news given that the Prince of Wales was not only staying in Tranby Croft but actually taking part in the game. Captain Somerset, in turn, decided to consult another eminent guest, the Earl of Coventry. Described as “a man of the world,” Lord Coventry was well known in sporting circles as a top racehorse owner and breeder of foxhounds. If Lord Coventry did not know what to do, then nobody did.20

That evening, Edward Lycett Green, Stanley Wilson, Lord Edward Somerset, and Captain Arthur Somerset visited Lord Coventry’s dressing room. Lieutenant Berkeley Levett refused to accompany them on the grounds that Gordon-Cumming had been his captain in the Scots Guards. Edward Lycett Green told Lord Coventry that Gordon-Cumming had been seen cheating at cards. The obvious response to this information would have been to go straight to Arthur Wilson and tell him about the allegations, and the sensitivity of the matter in view of the fact that the Prince of Wales was not only staying at Tranby Croft but had been playing baccarat while Gordon-Cumming was apparently cheating. Instead, Lord Coventry replied that the matter was so serious that he would have to speak to General Williams, because the latter was friendly with both Bertie and Gordon-Cumming, and was really “a man of the world.”21 Yes, he would know what to do!

Lord Coventry fetched General Williams from his room and told him about the allegations against Gordon-Cumming. Without pausing to establish whether or not the allegations were true, General Williams declared that he was “overwhelmed with a sense of calamity.”22 One can understand why. This development threatened to be another Aylesford scandal; the public must never learn that Bertie had been playing baccarat, an illegal game, with cheats and swindlers. Bertie’s reputation had to be protected at all costs.23

The next difficulty would be persuading Gordon-Cumming to admit to the accusations. The real danger was that he would challenge the allegation that he had been cheating, fall out with the Wilson family, and make the whole episode public knowledge. The only solution was to shame Gordon-Cumming into admitting that he had cheated, and give him the opportunity to leave quietly so that a veil could be drawn over the affair. Edward Lycett Green was adamant that Gordon-Cumming must be confronted. If not, then Lycett Green would publicly denounce him at Doncaster races the following day. “I will not be a party to letting Gordon-Cumming prey on society in future,”24 Lycett Green declared, with a fervor that makes one wonder whether he was referring to other aspects of Gordon-Cumming’s character. Bearing in mind the fact that Lycett Green would not be silenced, General Williams came up with a solution. Gordon-Cumming would be confronted and compelled to sign a statement swearing that he would never play cards again.

Knowing that if they did not tell Bertie what had happened, then Gordon-Cumming would, General Williams and Captain Arthur Somerset went to see the prince. This was a grave tactical mistake: the men had no conclusive evidence against Gordon-Cumming, the five witnesses had all seen different aspects of his apparent “cheating,” and they had not questioned Gordon-Cumming himself as to the allegations against him. In blind loyalty to the Prince of Wales, General Williams and Captain Somerset were actually placing him in a very difficult position. It would have been far better if Bertie had questioned the allegations and interviewed Gordon-Cumming himself, as well as the men who had accused him of cheating. But Bertie accepted Edward Lycett Green’s version of events and agreed that a document should be drawn up for Gordon-Cumming to sign. Bertie’s next task would be to persuade Gordon-Cumming, who still knew nothing of these allegations, to sign it.

They tracked Gordon-Cumming down in the smoking room, where Lord Coventry confronted him. “Some of the people staying here object to the way you play baccarat,” he said, explaining that Lycett Green and four other people had accused him of cheating, and that the Prince of Wales had been informed.25

Gordon-Cumming seemed as astonished as everyone else at hearing this accusation. He denied the charge as an abominable falsehood, and demanded to know who had accused him. When he was told that the accusers were Lycett Green, Stanley Wilson, Sub-Lieutenant Berkeley Levett, Ethel Lycett Green, and Mrs. Wilson, he became indignant. How could they take the words of these people against his?

At this point the gong was struck for dinner, and proceedings had to be suspended. However serious the allegations against Gordon-Cumming, dinner was more important. The iron discipline imposed upon the Marlborough House set dictated that appearances must be kept up at all times. At the table, Gordon-Cumming attempted to speak to Captain Somerset, but the latter simply turned his head away.

After dinner, there was conversation and music until eleven o’clock, but no game of baccarat. Instead, Bertie went into a small drawing room with Gordon-Cumming’s accusers. After speaking to them, he sent for Gordon-Cumming. When Gordon-Cumming arrived, he appealed to Bertie, denying that anything of the sort had taken place, and reminding the prince of his years of loyal service.

“It is very shocking,” Bertie replied, “but what can you do against so many? There is only your word against theirs.”26

Gordon-Cumming retorted that he was going to confront his accusers the following day at Doncaster races. This was immediately dismissed as disastrous: it would bring the scandal out in the open. Gordon-Cumming came up with another suggestion. Perhaps he should appeal to his commanding officer, or to the Duke of Cambridge, commander-in-chief of the British army?27

When this proposal was rejected, Gordon-Cumming once again appealed on the basis of his former reputation. What a tragedy this would be, he said, for someone who, for twenty-five years, had attempted to lead the life of an officer and a gentleman.

Gordon-Cumming was dismissed while the document was drawn up. Half an hour later, they sent for him again. Bertie had left the room. Lord Coventry told Gordon-Cumming that the only way to avoid a scandal was for him to sign the document saying he would never play cards again. Gordon-Cumming immediately refused, on the grounds that to do so would be incriminating. But he was told that if he refused to sign, Edward Lycett Green and his friends would expose Gordon-Cumming as a cheat at Doncaster races in the morning. General Williams, speaking as a friend, told Gordon-Cumming that the best thing to do would be to sign the document. Gordon-Cumming was not a stupid man; he could see the benefit of hushing up the allegations. If they went public, the accusation would always haunt him. Innocent or guilty, he would be ruined. But as long as everyone kept quiet, the affair might be forgotten. Once again, the omertà of the Marlborough House set reigned supreme.

But Gordon-Cumming made one last attempt to avoid signing, arguing that to do so would immediately cause suspicion. Gordon-Cumming was noted for his card playing; if he signed this document, he would not even be able to play so much as a rubber of whist in the barracks. It was like being sent into the library with a revolver: Gordon-Cumming had no choice but to do the decent thing. He would also be obliged to leave Tranby Croft quietly, early in the morning, an action that would in itself excite comment.

Defeated, Gordon-Cumming signed, and the document was taken to the Prince of Wales for signature.

In consideration of the promise made by the gentlemen whose names are subscribed to preserve silence with reference to an accusation which has been made in regard to my conduct at baccarat on the nights of Monday and Tuesday the 8th and 9th of September 1890 at Tranby Croft, I will on my part solemnly undertake never to play cards again as long as I live.

Signed, W Gordon-Cumming.

Albert Edward P Coventry.

Owen Williams.

Arthur Wilson.

A C E Somerset.

Edward Somerset.

E Lycett Green.

A Stanley Wilson.

Berkeley Levett.

R D Sassoon28

After the prince and the nine other men had signed the document, Arthur Wilson, the host of Tranby Croft, vowed all present to secrecy.

“This will be no secret, sir,” replied Captain Somerset.

“Not when gentlemen have given their word not to divulge it?” asked Bertie.

“It’s impossible, sir. Nothing in the world known to ten people was ever kept secret.”29

The following morning Gordon-Cumming left early, walking to the railway station after leaving a note for Mrs. Wilson saying that he had urgent business in London. He also wrote to General Williams, strongly denying the charges and asking for any money he had won at baccarat to be donated to charity. Bertie also left Tranby Croft, relocating to the 10th Hussars’ Mess in York for the last day of the races. This was “a terrible blow to the Wilsons’ social aspirations. They realised His Royal Highness would never enter their house again.”30 But while Mrs. Wilson’s social climbing had suffered a setback, this was as nothing compared with the collateral damage caused by the disgrace. Arthur Wilson had been correct when he had cast doubt upon the Tranby Croft scandal ever remaining a secret.