THE MAN WHO BROKE THE BANK AT MONTE CARLO
About the book
Essential reading for lovers of Victorian true-crime stories. The book takes readers on a roller-coaster ride through Britain, France and Monaco in the company of one of the greatest swindlers of the era as he pulls off one breath-taking coup after another. His amazing win at Monte Carlo is just one of many highlights in this true story, which reaches a climax when Wells is pursued across Europe in one of the biggest man-hunts of all time.
FACTFILE: Charles Deville Wells aka ‘Monte Carlo Wells’ aka ‘The Man Who Broke The Bank At Monte Carlo’
Blog: The Man Who Broke The Bank
- On this day 125 years ago: 18 July 1891 July 18, 2016
This article from the London Evening Standard of 18 July 1891 caught my eye.
A NOVEL INQUIRY
(From our correspondent ) Vienna, Friday Night. The question of trailing dresses, treated recently in letters to The Standard, has also engaged the attention of the Supreme Sanitary Board of Vienna. All the District Police Commissioners were the other day officially asked their opinion as to whether dresses sweeping in the mud are injurious to the public health; and whether, if forbidden, the prohibition could be enforced. The replies were handed in to-day, and differ widely as to the possibility of carrying out any such prohibition. One official suggests the imposition of a special tax on trailing dresses, but the inventor of this happy idea admits that the impost would be rather difficult of collection.
- On this day 125 years ago: 17 July 1891 July 17, 2016
A press report from County Carlow, Ireland, points to the growing use of electricity as a source of power:
One of George Meredith’s* sons is an electric engineer, and his latest bit of work is interesting for more reasons than one. This is nothing less than the electric lighting of Carlow, the big village of 6,000 inhabitants which has just dug its impress deep in latter-day political history. It is a good big jump from oil to electricity, from the middle ages to fin de siècle civilisation. I understand that young Mr. Meredith’s firm has many more similar ideas for the conversion of waste water power in Ireland to the purposes of electric lighting.[George Meredith, 1828-1909, was a renowned English novelist and poet of the Victorian era. His 1881 poem, The Lark Ascending, inspired Ralph Vaughan-Williams’ composition of the same title]
A dispatch from the United States refers to an entirely different application for electricity:
The official report on the recent execution by electricity in Sing Sing prison shows that the method then adopted was superior to any plan yet designed. [The Times, London]
As an inventor and engineer, Charles Deville Wells followed these developments with interest. Among his patents were an improved arc lamp; electric baths; an incandescent lamp; globes for electric arc lamps; electric locks, bolts etc.; electric apparatus for clocks; and galvanic batteries.
- On this day 125 years ago July 16, 2016
16 July 1891
A newspaper article this day reports a trial at Bow Street Magistrates Court. In 1891 there were stiff penalties for those accepting money on the promise that they could foretell the future:
READING CHARACTERS BY HANDWRITING.
A young man, giving the name of Charles Stuart, was charged at Bow Street last week with unlawfully pretending and professing to tell fortunes by handwriting and other means with intent to defraud. … [the prisoner] denied that he was a fortune-teller, but described himself as “a graphologist”. Letters were seized, amongst them being a number addressed to “Professor Huxley” of 28 Church Road, Acton. These were chiefly from females, all containing stamps. Sir John Bridge* remanded the accused.
*Sir John Bridge was the chief magistrate for London. And before long Charles Wells (the man who broke the bank) would appear before Sir John at Bow Street Court charged with crimes much more serious than fortune-telling.
- On this Day in 1891: 15 July July 15, 2016
The German Emperor’s state visit to Britain came to an end. The Manchester Courier reported his departure on the Imperial yacht as follows:
The German Emperor arrived at South Leith Station from London at five minutes past seven yesterday morning. The station platform was covered with crimson cloth, and there was a good display of bunting … The Emperor, alighting from the train, shook hands with the Consul and others. He then stepped into one of the four carriages which were in waiting for the party, and drove through the Albert Dock, the people cheering as he passed along. At the north side of the dock were a steam launch and two boats from the Hohenzollern. The Emperor and party boarded one of the boats, which was rowed down the harbour amid the cheers of the crowd, and a steam launch and other boats following, and embarked on board the Hohenzollern.
At that very moment, Charles Deville Wells – soon to gain fame as the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo – was preparing to purchase his own yacht, Palais Royal, which at almost 300 feet in length was even larger than the Emperor’s imposing craft, Hohenzollern.
- The Joys of Research July 10, 2016
For a novelist writing a work of fiction in a familiar setting and era, the amount of research needed may be minimal – or even non-existent. But for writers of non-fiction, especially history, a great deal of in-depth research is usually required. It’s the foundation on which the narrative is built, and runs through the text like blood through an artery.
When pursuing a line of research, I usually go considerably further than the book itself dictates: for example, in my new work, The Man who Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo, an individual named Zalma Bradley Lee has only a fairly minor part to play in the story as a whole and appears on just three or four pages. But I pushed the fact-finding process as far as it would go, in order to have the fullest possible understanding of what this person was like, and how she may have influenced the central members of the cast of characters and interacted with them.
In the event, I used probably only ten per cent of the information I had collected on Zalma but the in-depth research helped to explain certain otherwise inexplicable episodes in the lives of Charles Wells – the man who broke the bank – and his French mistress, Jeannette (who had once been Zalma’s maid, and who was later a governess to her daughter).
The French writer, Gustave Flaubert, is quoted as having said, ‘Writing history is like drinking an ocean and pissing a cupful.’
As I don’t possess Flaubert’s poetical turn of phrase, (!) I might not have expressed the sentiment in those exact words but I agree wholeheartedly with what he says. The research for a book is like a giant jigsaw puzzle. With any luck the writer will find most of the pieces of the puzzle and will discover how they fit together. He or she will have to take an educated guess when it comes to missing pieces of the story, and hope that there will not be too many of these.
The finished book may focus on a small section somewhere in the middle of the picture – but often it is the surrounding material that gives context, and aids our understanding of the core facts . And where hard information is missing, it is this peripheral knowledge that helps us to formulate hypothetical scenarios when some of the facts are obscure or not known at all. Just as an astronomer needs to have some understanding of the distant parts of the universe to be reasonably certain of how our own solar system functions, the writer needs at least a partial knowledge of the more obscure facts at the periphery of the subject in order to have a reliable understanding of the information at its heart.