pper, and the dice-box rattled everywhere, and all the world
played. I have seen seventy play-tables set out in the grand gallery
of Ludwigslust, besides the faro-bank; where the Duke himself would
graciously come and play, and win or lose with a truly royal splendour.

It was hither we came after the Mannheim misfortune. The nobility of the
Court were pleased to say our reputation had preceded us, and the two
Irish gentleman were made welcome. The very first night at Court we lost
740 of our 800 louis; the next evening, at the Court Marshal's table, I
won them back, with 1300 more. You may be sure we allowed no one to know
how near we were to ruin on the first evening; but, on the contrary,
I endeared every one to me by my gay manner of losing, and the Finance
Minister himself cashed a note for 400 ducats, drawn by me upon my
steward of Ballybarry Castle in the kingdom of Ireland; which very note
I won from his Excellency the next day, along with a considerable sum in
ready cash. In that noble Court everybody was a gambler. You would see
the lacqueys in the ducal ante-rooms at work with their dirty packs of
cards; the coach and chair men playing in the court, while their masters
were punting in the saloons above; the very cook-maids and scullions, I
was told, had a bank, where one of them, an Italian confectioner, made
a handsome fortune: he purchased afterwards a Roman marquisate, and
his son has figured as one of the most fashionable of the illustrious
foreigners in London. The poor devils of soldiers played away their pay
when they got it, which was seldom; and I don't believe there was an
officer in any one of the guard regiments but had his cards in his
pouch, and no more forgot his dice than his sword-knot. Among such
fellows it was diamond cut diamond. What you call fair play would have
been a folly. The gentlemen of Ballybarry would have been fools indeed
to appear as pigeons in such a hawk's nest. None but men of courage and
genius could live and prosper in a society where every one was bold and
clever; and here my uncle and I held our own: ay, and more than our own.

His Highness the Duke was a widower, or rather, since the death of the
reigning Duchess, had contracted a morganatic marriage with a lady
whom he had ennobled, and who considered it a compliment (such was the
morality of those days) to be called the Northern Dubarry. He had been
married very young, and his son, the Hereditary Prince, may be said t