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Playing, Gambling and Cheating in Early Modern England and France

“Sorting out a Pack of Cards”: Gambling, Card-Playing and Figuring Credit and Social Identity in Georgian England

“Sorting out a Pack of Cards” : jeu d’argent, jeu de cartes et figuration du crédit et de l’identité sociale dans l’Angleterre georgienne
Vanessa Alayrac-Fielding

Résumés

Au XVIIIe siècle, les jeux d’argent firent l’objet de nombreux discours moralisateurs dans la littérature, la presse et les arts visuels, qui dénonçaient les conséquences de cette pratique sur le sort des fortunes familiales. L'image du jeu d’argent servit de métaphore pour décrire les transformations économiques et le système du crédit, donnant lieu à l’essor d’une rhétorique textuelle et visuelle ayant recours à l’image du jeu de cartes. Cet article suggère que l’image de la carte et celle du jeu de cartes fonctionnèrent comme des tropes pour définir les transformations économiques du pays et les identités sociales et politiques de femmes et d’hommes publics. L’étude des satires de Charles James Fox et de Georgiana Cavendish, deux joueurs (et amis) à la réputation controversée, présentés sous forme de cartes à jouer, permettra de mettre en relation politique et jeu d’argent. En dernier lieu, le thème du jeu de cartes sera abordé pour mettre au jour un double portrait des joueuses, victimes ou orchestratrices de la pratique des jeux d’argent.

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1In Susanna Centlivre’s play The Gamester (1705), men and women of the aristocracy are presented as the victims of their passion for playing and gambling. The epilogue shows the ways in which the gambling fate of men is linked to Fortuna, the goddess of chance, who equally makes male and female gamblers her playthings. The passage also underlines the threatening power of gambling that could potentially lead to the destruction of social structures in taking away family inheritance, when for instance the estates of families were passed into the hands of other players or were being mortgaged to pay off heavy debts:

  • 1 Susanna Centlivre, The Gamester, London, William Turner, 1705, p. 71-72.

You Roaring Boys, who know the Midnight Cares
Of Rattling Tatts, ye Sons of Hopes and Fears;
Who Labour hard to bring your Ruin on,
And diligently toil to be undone;
You're Fortune’s sporting Footballs at the best,
Few are his Joys, and small the Gamester’s Rest:
Suppose then, Fortune only rules the Dice,
And on the Square you Play; yet, who that’s Wise
Wou’d to the Credit of a Faithless Main
Trust his good Dad's hard-gotten hoarded Gain?
But, then, such Vultures round a Table wait,
And, hovering, watch the Bubble’s sickly State;
The young fond Gambler, covetous of more,
Like Esop’s Dog, loses his certain Store.
Then the Spung squeez’d by all, grows dry, And, now,
Compleatly Wretched, turns a Sharper too;
These Fools, for want of Bubbles, too, play Fair,
And lose to one another on the Square.1

2Here the depiction of gamesters and cheaters (“card sharps”) echoes the many paintings of the Renaissance and the seventeenth century representing gambling activities, such as the famous Tricheur à l’as de carreau (1635) by Georges de La Tour, inspired by the famous painting by Carravaggio.2 In La Tour’s image, “the young fond Gambler” is shown playing naively with a sharp and a courtesan. The Gamester’s epilogue emphasizes the swapping of roles as sharps turn pigeons around the table. This image of circulating roles in gambling is evocative of the transformative powers of the gambling table that can reverse fortunes and make or unmake reputations. The epilogue also tackles the theme of female addiction to gambling, making an analogy between amorous passions and the passion for card playing:

  • 3 Ibid. p 72.

This Itch for Play, has, likewise, fatal been,
And more than Cupid, drawn the Ladies in,
A Thousand Guineas for Basset prevails,
A Bait when Cash runs low, that seldom fails;
And, when the Fair One can’t the Debt defray,
In Sterling Coin, does Sterling Beauty pay.3

As the passage indicates, a form of prostitution loomed large in the cruel fate of some of the female losers who, on some occasions, had to agree to trade sexual favours in exchange for the cancellation of their debts. This is the subject of William Hogarth’s The Lady’s Last Stake (1756), inspired by Colley Cibber’s eponymous play, The Lady’s Last Stake, or the Wife’s Resentment (1707). In Hogarth’s painting (Fig. 1), a genteel lady is asked to play one last game of cards with an officer in a rather flirtatious encounter. Should she win, she would regain her jewels and her money, but should she lose, she would get her jewellery back but lose her honour.

Fig. 1: William Hogarth, The Lady’s Last Stake (1759), Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo, New York.

  • 4 See Ronald Paulson, Hogarth’s Graphic Works, 3rd ed., London, The Print Room, 1989, p. 192; and fro (...)
  • 5 For an analysis of the relation between feminine sexuality and the trope of jewels, see Marcia Poin (...)

3Here, Hogarth revisits the theme of gambling and seduction in a less tragic tone, showing the lady contemplating the risks of a possible loss among a plethora of signs referring to passion, (the fire, the cards thrown on the floor, the statue of Cupid on the fireplace). Reputation is also at stake, as the lady is about to cheat on her husband, the horn of the crescent moon symbolising cuckoldry, despite the latter’s letter on the floor inclosing 500 pounds to sponge off her debt.4 The female body here acts as specie, evoking Centlivre’s epilogue: the sterling coins are being replaced by a pretty face, the woman’s sterling beauty. It is also worth remembering that jewellery carried a strong association with female sexuality. Jewels often worked as the metaphor of women’s genitalia, as exemplified by Diderot’s Bijoux indiscrets (1748).5 So gambling in Hogarth’s painting seems to have already resulted in the lady’s yielding to the officer as the latter has already seized her “jewels” in his tricorn hat before the last game has even started.

4Whether men traded their family estates for game tokens and a cast of dice, or women relinquished their virtue to sponge off their debt, The Gamester’s epilogue concludes on the transgressive aspects of gambling, and on the moral perversion brought by this vice. The sinful nature of gambling was a common trope denounced by moralists in anti-gambling rhetoric throughout the eighteenth century. In the Commentaries on the Laws of England, the jurist William Blackstone underlined the fatal consequences of gaming which he saw percolating through all classes of society:

  • 6 William Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England, Oxford, Printed at the Clarendon Press, 17 (...)

[T]aken in any light, [gaming] is an offence of the most alarming nature; tending by necessary consequence to promote public idleness, theft, and debauchery among those of a lower class: and, among persons of a superior rank, it hath frequently been attended with the sudden ruin and desolation of ancient and opulent families, an abandoned prostitution of every principle of honour and virtue, and too often hath ended in self-murder.6

5The term “prostitution” here indicates the subversive and destructive power of gambling that provoked a sinful inversion of a natural, social and moral order, and could sometimes lead to the ultimate sin of suicide in cases of absolute insolvency.

  • 7 On the links between credit and fiction, see Sandra Sherman, Finance and Fictionality in the Early (...)

6In this essay, I wish to examine the ways in which the images of cards and card games were used as a founding and guiding trope to define old and new cultural, social and political identities among the monied and landed interests, men and women alike. Gambling was associated with the social transformations linked to the century’s economic revolution and had compelling parallels with the credit system that pervaded so many fields at that time, from finance to literature.7 After the collapse of the South Sea Company, two sets of playing cards were published in 1721, whose iconography denounced financial speculation as a game of chance. These sets have received little scholarly attention so far. Similarly, the use of the metaphoric image of queens, knaves and kings from a pack of cards found in visual culture (in graphic satire in particular) and in economic pamphlets has not been investigated.

  • 8 Phyllis Deutsch, “Moral Trespass in Georgian London: Gaming, Gender, and Electoral Politics in the (...)

7This study first aims at bringing together new material, textual and visual evidence focused on the image of the card player and on that of the card itself to investigate the image of gambling as a metaphor for the new investing and business practices of Britain’s capitalistic economy. It then turns to the rhetoric of card-playing and the visual embodiment of “knavery” through the iconographic use of playing cards to unearth the ways in which gambling shaped political and personal identities. The image of Charles James Fox as “Pam of the Pack” and that of Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire, as “Queen of Clubs,” will be examined in relation to the idea of credit and credibility in politics. Charles James Fox’s political career, his private and public connection with women, in particular with Georgiana Cavendish, have been thoroughly investigated by recent scholarship. Phyllis Deutsch has pointed out the ways in which Cavendish’s canvassing for Fox, together with her aristocratic identity and notorious gambling addiction became the subject of scathing satires undermining Fox’s political abilities and masculinity in the 1784 Westminster election campaign.8 My perspective on the Westminster election and on the bonds between Fox and Cavendish differs from Deutsch’s in that I choose to focus on the iteration of the card imagery as both a political weapon and a tool for anti-gambling propaganda. The study ends with a reflection on the metaphor of high society women construed as playing cards from a pack or defined through their practice of playing cards (and gambling). This last section draws mainly on periodicals essays and on extracts from Georgiana Cavendish’s The Sylph related to gambling that have not received any scholarly attention so far.

The image of playing and gambling in the new commercial economy

  • 9 John Brewer, The Sinews of Power: War, Money and the English State 1688-1783, London, Unwin Hyman L (...)

8The eighteenth century witnessed the dramatic transformation of a land-based economy into a more capitalistic one based on business ventures, projects and financial speculation. Business relied heavily on transactions that needed credit. Bills of exchanges were drawn, mortgages taken up leading to the creation of a credit system dominating the new economy. Consequently, debt became a major feature of the economic system. As John Brewer has shown, this system worked well until a financial crisis or a bubble burst, as happened with the collapse of the South Sea Company in 1720, where merchants, tradesmen, bankers and speculators tried to convert bills into specie, and “trade credit into hard currency.”9 In trade, trust came to play a crucial role in securing transactions. Being a reliable tradesman and merchant provided a form of guarantee to get your money back. But chance was also inevitable and commerce was a risky venture. Literature often represented the risks of the merchant, as in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, in which Antonio finds himself unable to repay Shylock’s bond when he learns that his ships are reported lost at sea. In the Review n°126, Daniel Defoe gives a definition of trade as a highly volatile economic activity subjected to chance and versatile events:

  • 10 Daniel Defoe, Review of the State of the British Nation (1706-1713), ed. Arthur Wellesley, New York (...)

Trade is a Mystery which will never be completely discover’d or understood; it has its Critical Junctures and Seasons, when acted by no visible Causes, it suffers Convulsion Fits, hysterical Disorders, and most unaccountable Emotions – […] it suffers Violence from the Storms and Vapours of Human Fancy, operated by exotic Projects, and then runs counter, the Motions are excentrick, unnatural and unaccountable. A sort of Lunacy in Trade attends all its Circumstances, and no Man can give a rational Account of it.10

  • 11 Jessica Richards, The Romance of Gambling in the Eighteenth-Century British Novel, Basingstoke, Pal (...)
  • 12 For a study of the ambivalent perceptions of the notion of credit that shows the ways it cut across (...)

9If the decision to invest in a business was a personal choice, successful trade also depended on external factors, such as the climate, or economic and political situations. Although satire bears on the folly of projectors, it is worth noting that Defoe depicts trade under feminine features to which “hysterical disorders,” “vapours” and “fancy” were strongly associated at the time. Trade implied risk-taking. It could rely on fantasy and hearsay or be founded on more tangible knowledge and trustworthy information, thus preventing financial catastrophes linked to speculation, as had been the case with the South Sea Bubble. The reliance on chance created a sense of proximity between gambling and investing one’s money into a scheme. As Jessica Richards has argued, gambling represented a “tension between chance and control, between an unknowable and a predictable outcome.”11 Gambling thus was used to define the risky business of tradesmen and stood for an emblem of their identity: joint-stock companies, stock-jobbing and credit were not far off the stakes engaged in card games.12

10The gambling metaphor used for England’s modern economy is embodied in two surviving sets of playing cards known as the “South Sea Bubble” playing cards and “All the Bubbles: The Bubble Companies” set, produced in 1721 in the context of the financial crisis of the South Seas Company.13 The publication of these cards came at a time of intensive development of graphic satire in Britain.14 Both packs of cards bear on the fraudulent commercial transactions and the plethora of dubious “bubble” companies that were funded by the South Sea Company and collapsed with the burst of the South Sea Bubble. The “South Sea Bubble” pack was advertised in The Weekley Journal or, Saturday Post on 21 January 1721 as both a series of satirical cards on dishonest business ventures and as a genuine playable pack of cards:

  • 15 The Weekly Journal or, Saturday’s Post. With the Freshest Advices Foreign and Domestic, 112, 21 Jan (...)

Just Published, A New Pack of Stock-Jobbery Cards Containing 52 Copper Cuts representing the Tricks of Stock-Jobbers, the Humours of Exchange Alley, and the Fate of Stock-Jobbing. With a Satyrical Epigram upon each Card […]. Spotted with their proper Colour, so that they may be played with as well as Common Cards.15

11Each card represents various projects and bubble schemes of the year 1720 that were happening at the time of the South Sea Bubble. This set exposes the consequences of risk-taking ventures that could result in bankruptcy. Here, the cards underline the role of chance and the speculative nature of playing and investing one’s money in a scheme, drawing an analogy between both ludic and financial activities. The cards also carry a moralizing discourse, warning the players that some reason and wisdom must be used before committing to a project. Highly satirical in tone, they are construed as vignettes accompanied by speech balloons to report the conversation of those portrayed or by a small text at the bottom of the card. Each card invites the reader/player to a critical view in verse on the situation depicted in the image. For example, the queen of hearts (Fig. 2) provides an oblique comment on the slave-trade whilst emphasising the illusion of profits for those who invested in a fashionable product such as snuff.

Fig. 2. Queen of Hearts from the “South Sea Bubble” playing cards, London, Thomas Carington Bowles, 1720-21, source: Christie’s. Public domain.

The tobacco-ground powder is seen as a risky commodity in which to invest, and the merchant presented as a gullible victim of false promises of profit:

Here Slaves for Snuff, are sifting Indian Weed,
Whilst their O’erseer, does the Riddle feed,
The Dust arising, gives the Eyes much trouble,
To shew their Blindness that Espouses the Bubble.

Similarly, the five of clubs (Fig. 3), ironically addressing female tea-drinkers, satirizes the colonial sugar trade and the speculative operations in sugar shares triggered by the growing metropolitan consumptions of Chinese tea:

Fair Tattling Gossips, you that Love to See
Fine Sugar blended with Expensive Tea
Since you Delight in things, both Dear & Sweet,
Buy Sugar Shares, and you’ll be Sweetly Bit.

Fig. 3: The Five of Clubs from the “South Sea Bubble” playing cards, London, Thomas Carington Bowles, 1720-21, source: Christie’s. Public domain.

The Queen of Clubs (Fig. 4) represents a company that offers bottomry, a form of marine insurance which was highly risky:

Lending money upon Bottom-ree.
Some lend this money for the sake of more,
And others borrow to increase their store
Both these do oft engage in bottom-ree,
But curse sometimes the bottom of the sea.

Fig. 4: Queen of Clubs from the South Sea Bubble playing cards, London, Thomas Carington Bowles, 1720-21, source: Christie’s. Public domain.

In this card, the lending-money table where transactions are taking place is evocative of the gambling table where players leave their fate to Fortuna. The image of the fate of a ship is reminiscent of the ebbs and flows of fortune, symbolized by a treacherous sea.

  • 16 Jeremy Collier, An Essay upon Gaming, in a Dialogue between Gallimachus and Dolomedes, London, prin (...)

12If gambling could appear as natural to the beau monde and aristocracy, embodying aristocratic identity and leisured life, gambling within the mercantile class could be vastly destructive of the merchant’s stock. Such concerns encouraged the publication of many a satire against gambling addressed to the monied interests. Jeremy Collier in An Essay upon Gaming (1713) opposes two conceptions of gambling, one defended by Callimachus which offers an anti-gambling discourse, the other held by Dolomedes which defends the legitimacy of gambling losses, based on the notion of a fluid circulation of capital and assets: “This Misfortune is nothing but shifting Property, and putting the Prize into a new Hand: And is not this both a common and reasonable Remove? Why should Wealth be always lodg’d in the same Family? […] I have not so much Deference for Genealogy and Elder Brothers […].”16 Dolomedes considers the positive value of chance and versatility in gaming and defends high stakes investments in commercial ventures. But for Callimachus, gambling equates dissipation, diversion and distraction:

  • 17 Ibid., p. 35.

Alas! The Man’s Inclinations lye Abroad, and his Heart is stolen from his Business: His Thoughts are preengag’d and hurry’d, the Cards and Dice are playing in his Head, and he is ruminating on the Turns of Fortune at his last Adventure. It may be he came Home tir’d in the Morning, lyes recruiting in his Bed, and can’t be spoken with at the Hours of Business: Thus this desperate Diversion is particularly fatal to a Tradesman; the Stock is sunk the Credit blasted, and the Customers retire; the Man has no Brains left for Buying and Selling, nor any Time, unless for Licence and Losing his Money.17

The passage also emphasizes the idea that gambling led to a diminution of the tradesman’s capital, as it hindered business and tarnished his reputation. The expression “the credit is blasted” refers to the tradesman’s reliability and reputation, a founding principle of commerce.

13Among the arguments used in anti-gambling rhetoric, the idea that gambling came from France and represented a contamination of English manners that became Frenchified, came time and again in many pamphlets and satirical texts. At the critical time of the Jacobite rebellion of 1745, one essay published in the Female Spectator by Eliza Haywood on 12 September 1745 describes a visit to a “Topsy-Turvy Island,” a Frenchified England where the whole community is assembled in a gambling hall:

  • 18 Eliza Haywood, Female Spectator, 12 September 1745, p. 10.

But as gaming is the chief business, as well as amusement of the Topsy-Turvyans, large halls are erected for that purpose not only in every quarter of the capital, but also in every town and even little village. […] it is amazing to see what numbers of people are always crowding in to pay their Adoration to the Goddess Fortune, whose Image is placed at the upper End under a magnificent Canopy. – All Ages, all Degrees, all Sects, unite in this universal Worship: – all Reserve, – all Pride of Birth, – all Difference in Opinion is here intirely laid aside: – the prince and the pedlar,  the lady that keeps the chariot, and the drab that trowls the wheelbarrow,  the prude, and the avowed prostitute,  the ecclesiastic and the ballad-singer are on an equal foot:  nothing but gain, dear gain is regarded […].18

  • 19 Gerda Reith, The Age of Chance: Gambling and Western Culture, London, New York, Routledge, 1999, p. (...)

14Here, Chance or Fortuna offers an alternate faith to Christian beliefs, a world ruled by randomness and meaninglessness. In this temple of Fortuna, no social hierarchy is preserved and no moral sense either. The gamester is seen as a disciple of chance that has to bear the political and social consequences of such a behaviour. As Gerda Reith has argued in The Age of Chance: Gambling and Western Culture, the fluctuations of the markets and the economy of speculation were reflected by the gains and losses at the gaming table.19 Literature and the visual arts played on the polysemy of the term “knave” to link gamblers to con men and cheaters. A satirical print of the Cashier of the South Sea Company, Robert Knight, entitled “Lucipher’s New Row-Barge,” depicts him as the Devil’s instrument, with several devils whispering ill advice into his ears (Fig. 5). A gibbet clearly appears in the background with the knave of diamonds hanging from it, in the clothes and figure of Knight, a mirror-image of the cashier. Knight’s family name is the object of satire here, as the “knight” has transformed into a “knave,” with the connotation of diamonds alluding to the lucrative profits he made from the South Sea Company’s venture.

Fig. 5: Unknown artist, Lucipher’s New Row Barge, c. 1721, Etching. © The Trustees of the British Museum.

15Stockjobbing and gambling were often seen as analogous activities. George Alexander Stevens drew such a parallel in The Adventures of a Speculist in 1788:

  • 20 George Alexander Stevens, The Adventures of a Speculist, London, S. Bladon, 1788, p. 69-70.

A GAMBLER is one, who accumulates wealth in contradiction to the known laws of the land, and even in open defiance of them, either by dishonourable combinations, making use of false dice, or by pretending to be a friend to the person whom he intends to plunder, he persuades his bubble, that he will insure him a certain safe way of getting a sum, of money. […] the STOCK-JOBBER adept in sharping money likewise in defiance and contradiction to the laws of the land; and endeavours to take advantage of the credulity of the public, by entering into dishonourable combinations. As the GAMBLER makes use of false dice, the STOCK-JOBBER makes use of false intelligences.20

16In politics too, the reference to gambling was used to denounce a public figure’s dishonesty. The next section turns to the satirical representation of two notorious gambling friends, Charles James Fox and Georgiana Cavendish.

“Pam of the Pack” and “The Queen of Clubs”: Representing Charles James Fox’s and Georgiana Cavendish’s political and social identities

  • 21 Thomas Kavanagh, Dice, Cards, Wheels: A Different History of French Culture, Philadelphia, Universi (...)
  • 22 J. Collier, op. cit., p. 22.

17Thomas Kavanagh has convincingly argued that gambling among the aristocracy in eighteenth-century France was a means of symbolizing exclusive social status through a carefree culture of leisure where high losses, resulting from high stakes and deep play, seemed trivial and of no consequence.21 London clubs were places where landed men, and the wealthy elite met and gambled. These clubs provided a platform for forming political alliances, conducting business and discussing parliamentary strategies. Politics and speculation in the form of gambling were deeply intertwined. After the Gambling Acts of 1739 and 1745 banned all games of chance, gambling was limited to clubs such as Brooks’s, Almack’s and White’s, or the Cocoa tree and private gambling tables were kept at private houses, which escaped being shut down by the authorities. White’s was Tory and Brooks’s Whiggish, with Charles James Fox one of his most notorious members who ran his own faro bank at the latter’s. Many moralists warned of the danger of gambling for aristocratic families who would lose their estates: “[Men] appear more brave [than Women] in the Methods of Ruin: Thus a Manor has been lost in an Afternoon, the Suit and service follows the Cast, and the Right is transfer’d sooner than the Lawyer can draw the Conveyance.”22 Such was the case of the Earl of Carlisle who supported his friend Charles James Fox financially and stood surety for a loan of £ 16,000, whilst in 1775 he had to mortgage his London home in the face of financial ruin.

  • 23 T. Kavanagh, op. cit., p. 129-131.
  • 24 See Phyllis Deutsch, op. cit.

18Charles James Fox’s gambling addiction was taken up by his opponents as the sure sign of his inability to care for the nation’s public interests. As Kavanagh explains, gambling overthrew Enlightenment values, presenting man as the opposite of the rational man, incapable of taming his appetites and passions, engaged in ruthless self-interested gains, the epitome of rampant individualism.23 The gambler was thus presented as unable to commit to work that would benefit society. Fox ran for a seat in Parliament which he won through the help of his friend the Duchess of Devonshire who had canvassed for him. But his financial ruin was interpreted as a contradiction to his political commitment in favour of the people.24

19In 1782, Fox’s household goods were seized, revealing the gamester’s private vice to the public. Fox carried the image of a politician who was both financially and morally bankrupt. Excessive debts were read by his Tory adversaries as a result of the uncontrolled form of speculation and financial politics encouraged by the Whigs. In visual and textual satires, Fox often appeared as the knave of a pack of cards to illustrate his roguery while his friendship with another notorious gambler, Georgiana Spencer, was also the object of scathing attacks. In The Knave of Hearts (1782), Fox is depicted as the famous fox from Aesop’s Fables, longing for bunches of grapes promising “Places and Pensions” (Fig 6). Fox, who is holding the cap of liberty is presented as a self-interested politician whose electoral promises (underlined on the streamer “liberty and property”) are ruses to fool the electorate.

Fig. 6: The Knave of Hearts (1782). © The Trustees of the British Museum.

20In 1783, Fox formed an alliance with the then Home secretary Lord North over the East India Bill, which aimed at transferring the East India Company’s management to government officials loyal to Fox. The bill was defeated on 15 December 1783 but gave rise to a series of political pamphlets deriding Fox’s cheating practices, both in private matters of gambling and in politics.

21A political pamphlet “The Fox that lost his tail,” published in 1783, reads as Fox’s narration of his political alliance with North (“Lord Ver-min”), presented as a cheating game of cards. Fox is seen using his gamester’s talent to con the nation. In the song, the nation’s fate is played in the form of a game of hazard, which is also presented as a “bargain” struck between Fox and North. Fox, “Pam of the Pack,” appears as the knave of the pack of cards, but also the gambler (“Pharo-dealer”) whilst North is the corrupted “stock-jobber”:

  • 25 “The NEW COALITION : Or, The FOX who had lost his TAIL, And the Vermin turn’d out of his Borough,” (...)

In public, North tax’d me with treason and cheat;
Said, I’d make England poor to make myself great;
Said, I’d nothing to lose, and only to gain,
By cogging the dice –when Old England’s the main,
He said, tho’ of honesty much I did lack,
Yet whilst Clubs did count – I was Pam of the Pack
[…] Would beat King – if not bet’n Knave out o’ door.
[…] Pharo-dealer, stock-jobber, can never be stranger,
Tho’ mine more the profit, and your’s more the danger,
I have all things to gain, you have nothing to lose,
So dear, deal Lord Ver-min our bargain let’s close.25

22Here, finance and gambling are presented as intertwined. The passage runs a gambling metaphor, in which Britannia becomes “the main,” i.e. the first number rolled after the first cast of dice, against which all gamesters stake their plays in the game of hazard. Fox is both part of the pack of cards, the knave (meaning, implicitly, a rogue), whilst he also acts as the main player, a card cheat and high stake gambler who, by “cogging the dice,” the subtext implies, deceives people with the false principles of radical ideas, and defies the King (the analogy between the King and the Knave of a pack of cards prolongs the political metaphor). Fox’s gambling addiction and perceived political corruption appeared repeatedly in visual and textual satire through the figure of a playing card, most often that of the Knave (or Jack). A graphic satire denouncing Fox’s and North’s corruption and dishonesty, entitled “Time shutting the book of knaves or the Coalition in the regions below” (Fig. 7), embodies their “knavery” quite literally by depicting Fox as the Knave of Clubs and North as the Knave of Hearts in a “book of knaves” held by the allegorical figure of Time. The failure of the Fox-North coalition is symbolized by the imminent fall of the book, and subsequently, of both politicians, from a precipice into the void, an image of the defeat of the East India Bill scheme.

Fig. 7 : Time Shutting the Book of Knaves or the Coalition in the Regions Below, 1784, 1868,0808.5216. © The Trustees of the British Museum.

  • 26 See Amelia Rauser, “The Butcher-Kissing Duchess of Devonshire: Between Caricature and Allegory in 1 (...)

23Fox was often represented alongside Georgiana Cavendish, deprived of manly attributes and relying on the duchess to gain his seat in Parliament.26 The female gendering of Fox was used to denounce his corruption and stress that his political aspirations to statesman’s status were unnatural. The important parliamentary borough of Westminster was contested by Charles James Fox, Sir Cecil Wray and Lord Hood in the 1784 Westminster general election. The campaign lasted 40 days and saw Georgiana Cavendish canvassing publicly for Fox. Fox’s rakish behaviour had made him bankrupt twice before 1784 and his friends and family had had to pay off numerous debts. In many graphic satires, Fox appears emasculated by the male power of Georgiana who canvasses on his behalf. The Duchess’s overpowering political actions were seen as depriving Fox of his masculinity.

24In the caricature The Queen of Clubs (1786), the Duchess of Devonshire appears as the eponymous playing card with her head turned in profile, becoming, thus, Fox’s queen, or the queen of the Knave of clubs (i.e Fox’s personification as the roguish Jack of clubs card) (Fig. 8). The reference to playing reminds the viewer of Georgiana Cavendish’s gambling activities and adds the connotation of cheating and corruption to her identity. She wears a dress in buff and blue, the colours of the Whig party, and dons many sartorial references to her political canvassing for Fox. Her hat is decorated with a blue and yellow favour, club motifs and is complemented with fox’s brushes. A ribbon bearing the inscription “Libertatis” ends with a favour (here keeping the play on word) clasped with a miniature fox seeming to nurse at one of her breasts, a metaphor for Fox’s subjection to the Duchess’s political influence. Georgiana holds a music score inscribed “the Devonshire minuet” and has her feet rest on two books, one entitled “sentimental toasts,” the other one “Capt. Morris’ Songs,” a reference to her practice of kissing and using her feminine charm (dancing, singing, i.e using her “sweet voice” and delicate manners to secure votes) whilst campaigning for the politician.

Fig 8: The Queen of Clubs, published by S. Trent, 1786. © The Trustees of the British Museum.

25The Duchess’s use of her fame and seduction were satirized in other prints such as The Election Tate à Tate (Fig. 9), which depicts the publican Sam House, who supported Fox and kept open house at, at his cost, at “The Intrepid Fox” in Wardour Street in London, making a toast to Fox’s health supposedly, as he is raising a tankard of beer with the Duchess. The image implies that the latter has secured votes (note Sam House holding a paper inscribed “sure votes”) by improper proximity with electors, drinking and being seductive in taverns. Here again, she is seen wearing a favour at her breast inscribed “Fox”.

Fig. 9: The Election Tate á Tate, published by Hannah Humphry, 1784. © The Trustees of the British Museum.

26The “Queen of Clubs” satire must be paired with its masculine counterpart, the caricature of Charles James Fox as “The Knave of Clubs,” also published in 1786 (Fig. 10).

Fig. 10: The Knave of Clubs, 1786, 1868,0808.5592. © The Trustees of the British Museum.

27In this print, the private and public spheres are enmeshed to deliver a message about Fox’s lack of credibility as a politician. The reference to gambling, Fox’s notorious habit, catches the viewer’s immediate attention as Fox is shown throwing two dice from a dice-box. Fox also wears the colours of the Whig party in buff and blue, and, like Georgiana Cavendish in the responding print, he is seen holding a staff donned with a cap on which the word “Libertatis” is inscribed. The satire underlines the ways in which Fox’s private vice subverts his aspiration as a statesman. The polysemy of the term “clubs” allows for a close association between the suit (clubs) from a pack of cards and Fox’s gambling meetings at his clubs, such as Brooks’s and Almack’s Assembly Rooms (also known as Willis’s Rooms), the names of which are inscribed on the scroll hanging from his pocket. Fox’s political and personal aristocratic identities are symbolically blended. He is presented as a public figure, the representative of his party, yet his private gambling addiction undermines his public ethos, seen as he is standing on Edmond Hoyle’s Treatises of Whist, Quadrille, Piquet, Chess and Back-Gammon (1748) and on a book entitled “Game Act G III,” a reference to the gaming legislation passed by the government to prohibit games of chance.

  • 27 Gillian Russell, “‘Faro's Daughters’: Female Gamesters, Politics, and the Discourse of Finance in 1 (...)
  • 28 Ibid., p. 489.

28Anti-Fox caricatures also pointed to the subversion of roles, as aristocratic women were seen leaving the domestic and private sphere to enter that of politics and public life, overstepping the boundaries of female occupations.27 As has been suggested by recent scholarship, that Fox would be supported by a female gamester who was heavily in debt reinforced the connection between Fortune randomly guiding the politician, and further damaged the credibility of a political candidate not controlled by reason but guided by the addictive passion of gambling. 28Fox and Cavendish were perceived as corrupted by their own manners of consumption and often exposed to the British public through the press, especially after the 1792 “Proclamation Against Vice” issued by George III. By 1789 Georgiana’s debt amounted to more than £60,000 (almost $ 6,000,000 today).

Female gamesters: agents or victims?

  • 29 For more on this topic, see G. Russell, opcit.

29The case of the Duchess of Devonshire is a prime example of the way aristocratic female gamesters were viewed and viewed themselves at the end of the eighteenth century. Indeed, high society female gamesters were seen as threatening agents of transgression who could be the victims of playing and gambling or the instigators of it. After the passing of the anti-gambling laws, private gambling tables were held by aristocratic ladies in the preserve of their home, thus escaping the scrutiny of authorities, even though their keeping a faro bank was a notorious fact. At Devonshire House for example, Georgiana kept a gaming table for her guests, as illustrated in Thomas Rowlandson A Gaming Table at Devonshire House (1791) which gathers the two sisters from the Spencer family, Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire and Henrietta (Harriet) Ponsonby, Viscountess Duncannon and the Prince of Wales, among other guests, over a game of hazard at night time. It became public knowledge and was often reported in newspapers that aristocratic ladies turned their houses into gambling houses and made considerable profits by running faro-banks. The best known “faro” ladies were Lady Archer and Lady Buckinghamshire. Although the two ladies claimed that their aristocratic birth gave them license to run gambling operations, they were subject to ridicule and biting satire. They were compared to thieves and prostitutes in Isaac Cruickshank’ graphic satire Dividing the spoils! St James’s. St Giles’s (1796) in which the notorious “faro ladies” are counting the gain of their faro bank in St James’s quarter, drawing a parallel with the female criminals on St Giles’s who are dividing the collection of their stealth.29 This scene recalls Jenny Divers and her female partners in crime in John Gay’s Beggar’s Opera, who, in Act II, scene 6, discuss sharing the reward given by Peachum to Jenny Divers and Sukey Tawdry for their betrayal of Macheath.

30In the eyes of moralizing anti-gamblers, gambling distracted women from their domestic obligations, such as providing the management of the household, nurturing their children and even providing offspring to continue the lineage. As early as 1713, Steele wrote an essay on dissecting the brain and anatomy of a female gamester in The Guardian 120, (29 July 1713), in which he underlined the latter’s obsession with cards and card games:

  • 30 Richard Steele, The Guardian 120 (29 July 1713), p. 193. Here I concur with Richard’s analysis of t (...)

COULD we look into the Mind of a Female Gamester, we should see it full of nothing but Trumps and Mattadores. Her Slumbers are haunted with Kings, Queens and Knaves. The Day lies heavy upon her till the Play-Season returns, when for half a dozen Hours together all her Faculties are employed in Shuffling, Cutting, Dealing and Sorting out a Pack of Cards, and no Ideas to be discovered in a Soul which calls itself rational, excepting little square Figures of Painted and spotted Paper.30

  • 31 R. Steele, op. cit., p. 193.

31Here women are shown as devoid of rationality and motivated by unbridled passions. “[H]aunted” with the “little square Figures of Painted and spotted Paper” of “Kings, Queens and Knaves,” women are presented here as the doubles of playing cards, void of substance like their material paper counterparts. The result of their addiction deters them from child-bearing preoccupations: “WHEN our Women thus fill their Imaginations with Pipps and Counters, I cannot wonder at the Story I have lately heard of a new-born Child that was marked with the five of Clubs.”31 Added to the neglect of their matrimonial obligations, a lack of propriety was strongly disapproved of when female gamesters gave vent to fits of despair or cries of unrestrained joy according to the fluctuations of gains and losses at the gambling table:

THEIR Passions suffer no less by this Practice than their Understanding and Imaginations. What Hope and Fear, Joy and Anger, Sorrow and Discontent break out all at once in a fair Assembly upon so noble an Occasion as that of turning up a Card. Who can consider without a Secret Indignation that all those Addictions of the Mind which should be consecrated to their Children, Husbands and Parents, are thus vilely prostituted and thrown away upon a Hand at Loo. (ibid.)

32Many anti-gambling texts warned that women’s beauty was gradually destroyed by the vice of gambling and showed on the female body. It was commonly pointed out that women lost their natural beauty in a most unnatural activity often happening at night. The topsy-turviness of gambling was emphasized in such moralizing discourses. Instead of getting their “beauty sleep,” women ruined their health and compromised the happiness of their marriage:

I come in the next Place to consider the ill Consequences which Gaming has on the Bodies of our Female Adventurers. It is so ordered that almost every thing which corrupts the Souls decays the Body. The Beauties of the Face and Mind are generally destroyed by the same Means. This Consideration should have a particular Weight with the Female World, who were designed to please the Eye and attract the Regards of the other half of the Species. Now there is nothing that wears out a fine face like the Vigils of the Card-Table, and these cutting Passions which naturally attend them. Hollow Eyes, haggard Looks, and pale Complexions, are the natural Inclinations of a Female Gamester. Her Morning Sleeps are not able to repair her Midnight Watchings. (ibid)

33Steele plainly exposes the ultimate risk of gambling for the female body and mind, that of having to resort to prostitution to pay off heavy debts:

BUT there is still another Case in which the Body is more endangered than in the former. All Play-Debts must be paid in Specie, or by an Equivalent. The Man that plays beyond his Income pawns his Estate; the Woman just finds 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 Dipp’d, if the Creditor be very importunate, I leave my Reader to consider the Consequences. (ibid)

34This situation is developed at great length in Georgiana Cavendish’s partly autobiographical novel The Sylph, published anonymously in December 1778 in London. This epistolary novel follows the evolution of a Welsh country girl, Julia Grenville after her marriage to Sir William Stanley as she discovers the manners and vices of the ton among London’s most fashionable and elite circles. A substantial part of the novel is devoted to Stanley’s gambling debt, which ultimately leads him to commit suicide. The novel was influenced by Edward Moore’s domestic tragedy The Gamester (1753), in which the gambler Beverley poisons himself. The prologue (written by David Garrick) lays bare the devastating consequences of deep play and of the Frenchification of English manners (which include gambling):

  • 32 Edward Moore, The Gamester, London, R. Francklin, 1753, Prologue, p. vii.

Ye slaves of passion, and ye dupes of France,
Wake all your pow’rs from this destructive trance!
Shake off the chains of this tyrant vice:
Hear other calls than those of cards and dice!32

  • 33 Georgiana Cavendish, The Sylph, London, T. Lowndes, 1779, p. 105.

35In letter 22, Julia Stanley reminds her sister that the “rapacious creditors” are not “the butcher, baker, &c.” but “a vile set of gamblers, or, in the language of the polite world – blacklegs.” The debt of the upper class had a direct consequence on society’s economy, the novel implies, as it deprived artisans of receiving their wages: “Thus is the purpose of my hear entirely frustrated and the laudably industrious tradesman defrauded of his due. But how long will they remain satisfied with being repeatedly put by with empty promises, which are never kept?” 33In The Sylph, the female protagonist also succumbs to the passion for gambling before receiving a word of wisdom in the letter of her protector the sylph and deciding thereafter to put an end to this irrational addiction. In Letter 10, addressed to Miss Grenville, Julia describes her gradual attraction to gambling and the risks she has taken in borrowing money from one of her male suitors at the gambling table. The passage, which describes a game of bragg, a card game similar to poker, dwells on the intensification of the emotional and physical symptoms of her addiction and culminates in the heroine’s mental agitation in anticipation of the next game, triggering sleep loss:

  • 34 Ibid., p. 92-93.

From being an indifferent spectator of the various fashionable games, I became an actor in them […] At first I risked only trifles; but by little and little, my party encroached upon the rules I had laid down, and I could no longer avoid playing their stake. […] The other night, at a party, we made up a set at bragg, which was my favourite game. After various vicissitudes, I lost every shilling I had in my pockets and, being a broken-merchant, sat silently by the table. […] I could not resist the entreaty of Baron Ton-hausen who, in the genteelest manner, entreated me to make use of his purse for the evening. […] Fortune now took a favourable turn and when the party broke up, I had repaid the baron […]. Flushed with success, and more attached than ever to the game, I invited the set to meet the day after the next at my house. I even counted the hours till the time arrived. Rest departed from my eyelids, and I felt all the eagerness of expectation.34

  • 35 Ibid., p. 104.
  • 36 Ibid., p. 96.

36If Julia is lucky enough to find in Baron Ton-hausen a respectable suitor and creditor, other characters, more evil, lurk in her circle, among whom the lustful Lord Biddulph who spends considerable time devising dishonest schemes to force Julia to surrender to him. In Letter 21, Biddulph writes that “Lady Stanley was marked down as fine pigeon by some of our ladies, and as a delicious morceau by the men.”35 Julia’s naivety and attractiveness make her a perfect victim in the hands of unscrupulous players. She gets traded by her husband to his friend Lord Biddulph to pay off excessive debt, but her refusal and successive flight from home leads a much shamefaced and dishonoured Lord Stanley to commit suicide. The sylph (i.e. Baron Ton-hauser as Julia learns later on) warns Julia of the risk of gambling. He tells her the moralising story of a lady being tricked by a rakish suitor, a “long-destined victim” falling “into the power of her insidious betrayer” who demands sexual favours in exchange for her debt: “it was in her power to repay the debt, without the knowledge of her husband – and confer the highest obligations upon himself.”36 Gambling and finance are intricately enmeshed in this passage while the language of courtly love is subverted, the term “obligation” pointing to a financial transaction between creditor and debtor.

  • 37 Ibid., p. 284.

37This theme seems to have run throughout the century. As early as 1705, in Centlivre’s The Basset Table (1705), Sir James, a gambler, threatens to rape the heroine Lady Reveller if she refuses to pay her gambling debts: “Can a lady that loves play so passionately as you do […] that divides your time between toilet and basset table, can you, I say, boast of innate virtue?”37 However, the status of female gamblers as potential objects to be purchased by male gamblers, trading their body as a medium of exchange, as a specie-equivalent, tends to overlook another aspect of their role as free economic agents (if they wished) who could place wagers and run business within their private circles. In John Tobin’s Faro Table: Or the Guardians, performed in 1816 but written at the end of the century, the female passion for gambling and rapacious gain has replaced more noble sentiments:

  • 38 John Tobin, Faro Table: Or the Guardians, London, John Murray, 1816, “Epilogue,” p. 60.

In vain the lover hangs o’er Chloe’s charms-
What’s love to her –while Pam is in her arms.
What on her cheek can raise the glowing blush :
A lover’s tender vows? – Oh, no – a flush.38

38Women are implicitly shown as having surrendered their virtue to lucre, as the innocent blush of love is replaced by the flush of excitement in winning money. Portrayed here as the mistress of the Jack of clubs (“Pam is in her arms”), Chloe has sold her soul and beauty to the sinful joys of gain and profit, and has traded sentiment for material pleasures.

Conclusion

  • 39 Laura Brown, Fables of Modernity: Literature and Culture in the English Eighteenth-Century, Ithaca, (...)
  • 40 Joseph Addison, The Spectator 3.3 March 1711, ed. Donald F. Bond. 5 vols., Oxford, Clarendon, 1965, (...)

39As this essay has shown, the fashionable practice of gambling had a financial resonance and impact among circles of players who could run into heavy debt and lose vast fortunes to their passion. Anti-gambling rhetoric, both textual and visual, used the trope of card-playing and the iconography of the pack of cards to draw parallels between gambling and trading and to define the alluring temptation of gambling under feminine terms. The image of a playing card, often the Knave or the Queen, to characterize politicians - such as Fox and North- or aristocratic female figures -such as Georgiana Cavendish-, was used repeatedly to convey a message about the entanglement of public and private identities. In Fables of Modernity, Laura Brown comments on the representation of modern trade as a female figure. She argues that women played an active role in ‘the discursive engagement with the forces of a modernizing, capitalist economy, evoking alternately ideas of power and fluctuation, dominion and contradiction, energy and ambiguity.”39 Although equally embraced by men and women alike, gambling was often represented by female figures in the eighteenth century, shifting from the goddess Fortuna, worshipped by gamblers, to the figure of a prostitute seducing unfortunate victims and luring them into an irrational passion for playing. The figure of Fortuna never sat too far from that of Lady Credit, depicted by Joseph Addison in the Spectator n°3 as an allegory of British society’s fluctuating economy: “whether it was from the delicacy of her Constitution, or that she was troubled with the Vapours, […] she changed Colour, and startled at everything she heard.”40 Credit was strongly associated with gambling, whether it was through money lending or indebtedness between players. If Lady Credit could be victim or agent in modern finance, likewise female gamesters could take an active part in running faro banks, or could be the victims of their gambling addiction and left to choose to use their body to steer the rudder.

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Notes

1 Susanna Centlivre, The Gamester, London, William Turner, 1705, p. 71-72.

2 Musée du Louvre, RF 1972-B, https://www.louvre.fr/oeuvre-notices/le-tricheur-las-de-carreau (consulté le 11 septembre 2020).

3 Ibid. p 72.

4 See Ronald Paulson, Hogarth’s Graphic Works, 3rd ed., London, The Print Room, 1989, p. 192; and from the same author, Hogarth, his Life, His Art, and Times, New Haven and London, Yale University Press, 1971, p. 267-269.

5 For an analysis of the relation between feminine sexuality and the trope of jewels, see Marcia Pointon, Brilliant Effects: A Cultural History of Gem Stones and Jewellery, New Haven, Yale University Press, 2009.

6 William Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England, Oxford, Printed at the Clarendon Press, 1765-69. IV. 13, p. 1572, *171-72.

7 On the links between credit and fiction, see Sandra Sherman, Finance and Fictionality in the Early Eighteenth Century, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2010.

8 Phyllis Deutsch, “Moral Trespass in Georgian London: Gaming, Gender, and Electoral Politics in the Age of George III,” The Historical Journal, 39.3, Sep. 1996, p. 637-656.

9 John Brewer, The Sinews of Power: War, Money and the English State 1688-1783, London, Unwin Hyman Ltd, 1989, p. 154. On the subject of Britain’s financial transformations, see P. G. M Dickson, The Financial Revolution in England: A Study in the Development of Credit, 1688-1756, London, Macmillan, 1967.

10 Daniel Defoe, Review of the State of the British Nation (1706-1713), ed. Arthur Wellesley, New York, Columbian University Press, 1938, 3, p. 126.

11 Jessica Richards, The Romance of Gambling in the Eighteenth-Century British Novel, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, p. 3.

12 For a study of the ambivalent perceptions of the notion of credit that shows the ways it cut across political affiliations (Whig and Tory), see Colin Nicholson, Writing and the Rise of Finance. Capital Satires of the Early Eighteenth Century, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1994.

13 The full set of cards can be viewed here: https://www.christies.com/lotfinder/Lot/south-sea-bubble-a-full-set-of-6210473-details.aspx (accessed on 11 September 2020).

14 Herbert M. Atherton, Political Prints in the Age of Hogarth: A Study of the Ideographic Representation of Politics, New York and London: Oxford University Press, 1974; Mark Hallett, The Spectacle of Difference: Graphic Satire in the Age of Hogarth, New Haven, Yale University Press, 1999). For a history of satirical prints after Hogarth, see Diana Donald, The Age of Caricature: Satirical Prints in the Reign of George III, London, Paul Mellon Centre for Studies in British Art, 1997.

15 The Weekly Journal or, Saturday’s Post. With the Freshest Advices Foreign and Domestic, 112, 21 January 1721, p. 6.

16 Jeremy Collier, An Essay upon Gaming, in a Dialogue between Gallimachus and Dolomedes, London, printed for J. Morphew, 1713, p. 30-31.

17 Ibid., p. 35.

18 Eliza Haywood, Female Spectator, 12 September 1745, p. 10.

19 Gerda Reith, The Age of Chance: Gambling and Western Culture, London, New York, Routledge, 1999, p. 60-62.

20 George Alexander Stevens, The Adventures of a Speculist, London, S. Bladon, 1788, p. 69-70.

21 Thomas Kavanagh, Dice, Cards, Wheels: A Different History of French Culture, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005, p. 68-70.

22 J. Collier, op. cit., p. 22.

23 T. Kavanagh, op. cit., p. 129-131.

24 See Phyllis Deutsch, op. cit.

25 “The NEW COALITION : Or, The FOX who had lost his TAIL, And the Vermin turn’d out of his Borough,” in History of the Westminster Election Containing Every Material Occurrence from its Commencement on the First of April to the Final Close of the Poll, on the 17th of May, 2nd edition, London, J. Debrett, 1785, p. 421-422.

26 See Amelia Rauser, “The Butcher-Kissing Duchess of Devonshire: Between Caricature and Allegory in 1784,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 36.1, 2002, p. 23-46, p. 23.

27 Gillian Russell, “‘Faro's Daughters’: Female Gamesters, Politics, and the Discourse of Finance in 1790s Britain,” Eighteenth-Century Studies, 33.4, 2000, p. 481-504. 

28 Ibid., p. 489.

29 For more on this topic, see G. Russell, opcit.

30 Richard Steele, The Guardian 120 (29 July 1713), p. 193. Here I concur with Richard’s analysis of the subversive power of female gamesters seen as disturbing the moral order: see J. Richard, op. cit., p. 115-118.

31 R. Steele, op. cit., p. 193.

32 Edward Moore, The Gamester, London, R. Francklin, 1753, Prologue, p. vii.

33 Georgiana Cavendish, The Sylph, London, T. Lowndes, 1779, p. 105.

34 Ibid., p. 92-93.

35 Ibid., p. 104.

36 Ibid., p. 96.

37 Ibid., p. 284.

38 John Tobin, Faro Table: Or the Guardians, London, John Murray, 1816, “Epilogue,” p. 60.

39 Laura Brown, Fables of Modernity: Literature and Culture in the English Eighteenth-Century, Ithaca, Cornell University Press, 2001, p. 96.

40 Joseph Addison, The Spectator 3.3 March 1711, ed. Donald F. Bond. 5 vols., Oxford, Clarendon, 1965, I, p. 14-15. For an analysis of this essay, see Claire Boulard, « Fiction masculine, finance féminine ? L’image de Lady Credit dans le Spectator d’Addison », in Sophie Marret (ed.), Féminin/ Masculin : Littératures et cultures anglo-saxonnes, Rennes, Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 1999, p. 205-220.

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Table des illustrations

Légende Fig. 1: William Hogarth, The Lady’s Last Stake (1759), Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo, New York.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-1.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 440k
Légende Fig. 2. Queen of Hearts from the “South Sea Bubble” playing cards, London, Thomas Carington Bowles, 1720-21, source: Christie’s. Public domain.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-2.png
Fichier image/png, 263k
Légende Fig. 3: The Five of Clubs from the “South Sea Bubble” playing cards, London, Thomas Carington Bowles, 1720-21, source: Christie’s. Public domain.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-3.png
Fichier image/png, 307k
Légende Fig. 4: Queen of Clubs from the South Sea Bubble playing cards, London, Thomas Carington Bowles, 1720-21, source: Christie’s. Public domain.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-4.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 84k
Légende Fig. 5: Unknown artist, Lucipher’s New Row Barge, c. 1721, Etching. © The Trustees of the British Museum.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-5.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 385k
Légende Fig. 6: The Knave of Hearts (1782). © The Trustees of the British Museum.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-6.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 188k
Légende Fig. 7 : Time Shutting the Book of Knaves or the Coalition in the Regions Below, 1784, 1868,0808.5216. © The Trustees of the British Museum.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-7.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 1,2M
Légende Fig 8: The Queen of Clubs, published by S. Trent, 1786. © The Trustees of the British Museum.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-8.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 1,2M
Légende Fig. 9: The Election Tate á Tate, published by Hannah Humphry, 1784. © The Trustees of the British Museum.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-9.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 265k
Légende Fig. 10: The Knave of Clubs, 1786, 1868,0808.5592. © The Trustees of the British Museum.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/docannexe/image/11620/img-10.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 831k
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Référence électronique

Vanessa Alayrac-Fielding, « “Sorting out a Pack of Cards”: Gambling, Card-Playing and Figuring Credit and Social Identity in Georgian England »Études Épistémè [En ligne], 39 | 2021, mis en ligne le 15 mai 2021, consulté le 18 septembre 2021. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/episteme/11620 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/episteme.11620

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Auteur

Vanessa Alayrac-Fielding

Vanessa Alayrac-Fielding is Associate Professor of Eighteenth-Century British Studies and a member of the CECILLE research centre (EA 4074) at Université de Lille, France. Her research focuses on eighteenth-century British art and cultural history, visual and material culture, the fashion for chinoiserie and orientalism. She co-edited Cultural Intermediaries. Études Internationales sur le Dix-Huitième Series. (Paris: Honoré-Champion, 2015) with Ellen Welch, The Foreignness of Foreigners: Cultural Representations of the Other in the British Isles (17th-20th centuries) with Claire Dubois (Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2015) and edited Rêver la Chine : Chinoiseries et regards croisés entre la Chine et l’Europe aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles (Tourcoing : Edition Invenit, 2017). She is the author of La Chine dans l’imaginaire anglais des Lumières (1685-1798) (Paris : Presses Universitaires Paris-Sorbonne, 2016).

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