Racing was his second greatest interest. He enjoyed gambling in any form, and his favourite form of gambling, off the racecourse, was the game of baccarat.

Bertie usually attended the most important race meetings so it was natural that he should go north for those at Doncaster. Things went wrong from the start. Normally he would have stayed at the mansion of one of his greatest friends, Christopher Sykes, but Sykes informed him that he was in financial difficulties and not in a position to entertain royalty. Bertie was alarmed and helped his friend out of his immediate difficulty, but understood at once that he could not pay the usual visit. Sykes had friends near by – a wealthy shipowner named Wilson, who could well afford to entertain the Prince of Wales and would be delighted to do so at his home, Tranby Croft.

‘It would be a great honour for him,’ went on Sykes. The Prince, who liked to honour people and had a great respect for rich people who had made their money out of their wisdom and their own efforts, was delighted.

‘Make sure,’ he said, ‘that Daisy gets an invitation.’

It was all arranged and the Prince looked forward to a pleasant stay. The Wilsons might not be of his circle but they were determined that he should lack nothing during his stay with them.

He arrived at the house expecting to find Daisy there. There was a message for him. Her uncle had died suddenly and she would therefore be unable to join the party.

Bertie was bitterly disappointed but after a few moments he managed to hide his annoyance. They would get some good baccarat, he decided, unaffected by Daisy’s disturbing presence.

Among the players, with the Prince taking charge of the bank, were Mr Wilson and his twenty-two-year-old son, Lieutenant-Colonel Sir William Gordon-Cumming of the Scots Guards, Lord Edward Somerset and Berkeley Levett, a friend of young Wilson. They played with Bertie’s counters which he always carried with him on such visits and which were decorated with the Prince of Wales’ feathers. The stakes were high and when the play was in progress, to his horror young Wilson was sure that he saw Sir William Gordon-Cumming cheating. Sir William sat with his hands clasped over a £5 counter. He leaned forward to see what cards Lord Edward Somerset had and – so young Wilson thought – dropped three more counters on to the paper in front of him which meant that, after he had seen Lord Edward’s cards, he had made £20.

Young Wilson was fascinated. He could not believe that he had seen correctly. For the rest of the evening he watched Sir William and was convinced that he was concealing counters in his hands and adding to them or taking them back according to the exposed cards of his friends.

He was so overwrought that he whispered to his friend Levett to watch. Levett did; and he was of the same opinion as Wilson. Sir William Gordon-Cumming was cheating.

When the household had retired Wilson went to Levett’s room and they talked of the matter. Levett said he was sure that Sir William was cheating; but what could he, a very junior officer in Sir William’s regiment, do about it? It was a terrible state of affairs.

Wilson said he would tell his mother and ask her what should be done.

‘For heaven’s sake be careful,’ said Mrs Wilson when she heard. ‘We don’t want a scandal. This is the first time we have entertained the Prince of Wales. Not a word to anybody. They will all have gone in a few days, so let it rest.’

But the young man could not get it out of his mind and he told his brother-in-law, Mr Lycett Green, who was horrified and immediately confided the story to his wife.

There was a conference with Berkeley, Levett and those members of the family who knew, and the Wilsons decided that cheating had been easy because the table they had used had in fact been three whist tables put together. Now if they had a real baccarat table with the proper lines drawn on it, cheating would not be easy.

This seemed the solution. A baccarat table was produced for it was certain that the following night the Prince would want to play his favourite game.

They were right, he did; and much to the dismay of all the people concerned it appeared that Sir William repeated his tricks of the night before. They then decided that this could not be allowed to pass; they were uncertain what should be done, but there were at the house party sophisticated members of high society who could know and they must be told at once. Among them was General Owen Williams, a friend of Gordon-Cumming; and another was Lord Coventry.

‘Good God!’ said the General when he heard. ‘I don’t believe, I won’t believe … But we’ll have to tell William.’

The attitude of Sir William when confronted by the accusation was strange. He did not ask who had seen him cheat though he denied doing so and asked to see the Prince of Wales.

Bertie was his usual bland good-natured self. He couldn’t believe that Sir William had cheated and was ready to believe him. ‘But,’ he pointed out, ‘five people say they have seen you. Five is quite a large number.’

‘I shall leave this house,’ said Sir William. ‘I shall cut those five people dead when I see them.’

‘Well, there are five of them,’ said the Prince, ‘and it won’t do you much good if they let this out.’

Sir William left them, and the Prince had to admit when talking over the matter with Coventry, Somerset and Owen Williams that it was very strange that Gordon-Cumming had not asked who his accusers were.

‘We’d better see them all separately,’ said Bertie, ‘and we’ll decide whether we believe them or Sir William.’

This was done and when the cross-examination was over and the three of them attempted to sum up they had to admit that the evidence was very convincing.

‘What can we do?’ asked Somerset.

‘There’s only one thing to be done,’ replied Bertie. ‘Sir William must never play baccarat again.’

‘How can we stop him?’

‘We can make him sign a pledge to the effect that he won’t.’

‘Do you think he’d keep it, Your Highness?’

‘If we all signed as witnesses he would.’

‘Would Your Highness be prepared …?’

‘Certainly,’ said Bertie. ‘We cannot allow Sir William to play again a game at which he has been seen cheating.’

Sir William when confronted with the findings of the amateur court was indignant.

‘But if I signed such a thing, it’s as good as saying that I’m guilty. I refuse,’ he said.

It was a difficult situation. The General went to his room and reasoned with him.

‘My dear William,’ he said, ‘you have to sign this pledge. You have to give up baccarat for ever. If you don’t there’d be such a scandal that you’ll be suspected of being guilty in any case. This is a most unfortunate matter and the best way of dealing with it is to hush it up. Think of all the people who know of this. Do you think they’re going to keep quiet? Why, they’ll be discussing it on the racecourse tomorrow if you don’t sign this paper. You’ve got to.’

‘It will be talked of in any case. No, I won’t sign.’

‘We will swear everyone to secrecy. The matter will be closed. No one outside the people in this house will know. You’ve got to do it.’

At length Sir William agreed; the Prince of Wales witnessed his signature and nine other members of the ill-fated houseparty added their names.

Then they left Tranby Croft.

‘What an unfortunate visit,’ said Bertie. ‘I hope never to see the place again. How different it used to be at Sykes’ place. A disastrous time. No Daisy and this unsavoury affair.’


* * *

How was it such matters leaked out? They had all sworn secrecy; and yet within a few weeks Tranby Croft was on everybody’s lips. What had happened at Tranby Croft? Something about someone caught cheating at cards? The stakes were enormous. The Prince of Wales was there. It was one of those wild parties he enjoyed with his racing friends.

Sir William found that he was shut out of society. His acquaintances ignored him; when he did meet them face to face they looked straight through him as though he did not exist. He knew that the story was becoming public knowledge.

How could he continue in his career when it was known that he had been suspected of cheating?

He had one alternative. He must go to see his solicitors. Their advice was that he bring an action for slander against the five people who had declared they had seen him cheating.

When Bertie heard this, he was horrified. He had had enough of public courts and he might well be forced to give evidence which would result – as it had in the Mordaunt case – in a great deal of unwelcome publicity.

Before the case could be tried in a civil court – for the accusation was one of casting a slur on Sir William’s honour as a gentleman and a soldier – he would have to resign from the army; this he attempted to do. But Bertie forestalled him. If the case were tried in a military court it would be a secret enquiry and that was naturally what he wished.

But Sir William’s solicitors would not have this. They wanted a civil case with heavy damages and reinstatement of Sir William as a man of honour. They appealed to the Army pointing out that everyone should have his chance to clear himself before he was proved guilty in a court of law. That was British justice. The Army agreed. Sir William resigned so that the case was to be brought into a civil court.

Bertie was now very anxious. He had foolishly put his name to that paper and since it would have to be brought forward it seemed very likely that he would be called once more to give evidence in court.

He fretted; being older and wiser now than he had been at the time of the Mordaunt affair, he saw how momentous this was. For the second time he, the future King, was being drawn into an unsavoury case. He did what he did before: told Alix the story before she should get full details from another source.

Alix was firm in his defence. Loyal Alix. But she was quiet and there was a sadness in her demeanour. It was beastly of that horrible man who had cheated at cards, to drag Bertie into all this unwelcome publicity just because he had been good-natured enough to try to help. She had always disliked Gordon-Cumming. Not that she had met him often but on the occasions when she had she thought him most unpleasant. But all the same she did deplore the life Bertie lived.

The Queen was less sympathetic.

‘Baccarat!’ she cried to Sir Henry Ponsonby. ‘What a manner in which to spend his time! And I dare say he gambled for enormous sums. What are the people going to say?’

The people had plenty to say, for when the case was tried the Prince of Wales received his subpoena and was obliged for the second time to give evidence in a court. The case went overwhelmingly against Gordon-Cumming. He was finished both militarily and socially. The Army turned him out and no club would receive him; he could only retire in disgrace.

But the chief actor in the drama seemed to have been the Prince of Wales. Few people mentioned Gordon-Cumming while Bertie’s name was on all lips. His extravagance was discussed. Only a short while ago he had been moved by the state of the London poor. What a pity he did not spend some of his income on alleviating their condition instead of throwing it away on horses and baccarat. He was dissolute, the Press implied. It was such conduct as this which had brought about the downfall of the French Monarchy at the end of the previous century. Monarchy should beware.

The Queen was horrified. ‘Bertie’s conduct has brought us all into disrepute,’ she wrote to Vicky. ‘It was very distressing.’ She summoned Bertie; she spoke to him very severely.

‘This dreadful gambling must stop. What dearest Papa would have said I cannot imagine. It is very wrong of you, Bertie, to go to such houses … the houses of worthy middle-class people who have made their money by hard work. I gather Mr Wilson built ships which is a very laudable thing to do. You go there; you corrupt such hard-working people. Naturally they are delighted to have you because of the prestige Royalty always gives. But how much longer will it if we all behave as you do? It will not be for long I fear. I could almost be glad that dearest Papa is not here. This would have made him despair of you.’

Poor Bertie! He was indeed in disgrace.

Nephew Wilhelm made sure that the very most was made of the scandal.

The Prince of Wales had a new motto, said one German paper: ‘Ich Deal.’