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Robin Quinn PhotoRobin Quinn is an author and radio producer based in South-East England. His new book, The Man Who Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo explores the life of Charles Deville Wells, fraudster and gambler, and spans the second half of the nineteenth century and the early twentieth century. Published 2016 by The History Press Ltd.


The incredible true story of Charles Deville Wells, gambler and fraudster extraordinaire.

Charles Wells has two loves in his life: a beautiful, headstrong, French mistress, Jeannette, and his sumptuous yacht, the Palais Royal. At the risk of losing them both, Wells stakes everything he owns at the roulette tables in Monte Carlo’s world-famous Casino – and in the space of a few days he breaks the bank, not once but ten times, winning the equivalent of millions in today’s money.

Is he phenomenally lucky? Has he really invented an “infallible” gambling system, as he claims? Or is he just an exceptionally clever fraudster?

Based on painstaking research on both sides of the Channel and beyond, this biography reveals the incredible true story of the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo – an individual who went on to become Europe’s most wanted criminal, hunted by British and French police, and known in the press as “Monte Carlo Wells – the man with 36 aliases”.

Order now: Amazon, Waterstones, WHSmiths, iTunes.
Read excerpts on Google Books.

Now available as an audio book on CDs
And as an audio download



After the Second World War 400,000 German servicemen were imprisoned on British soil – some remaining until 1948. These defeated men in their tattered uniforms were, in every sense, Hitler's Last Army.

Reviews of Hitler's Last Army

“Probably the best book on the subject in the last 20 years”

“I recommend this book as a must to read.”
[★★★★★ Amazon review by “a German ex-POW”]

“Well written, interesting, informative, and heart-warming in equal measure … I would recommend this even to those not especially interested in WW2, as a fascinating slice of Anglo-German social history of 70 years ago. Buy it."
[★★★★★ Amazon review by J.B.]

Blog: All Posts

  • An Early Bank-breaker

    Long before opening his famous casino in Monte Carlo, François Blanc ran a similar enterprise in Bad Homburg, Germany.  Charles Lucien Bonaparte, a nephew of the Emperor Napoleon, won large sums there in the early 1850s.

    The following account is translated from the German website

    Charles Lucien Bonaparte, a nephew of Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte
    Charles Lucien Bonaparte, a nephew of Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte

    “Lucien Charles Napoleon was not a dainty character.  His portrait reveals a surprising similarity to the great Corsican [Napoleon].  Perhaps his passion for gambling was the result of some genealogical inheritance.  He was one of the biggest and most feared gamblers of his time.  Bad Homburg was his battlefield.  According to the account of Count Corti he first appeared at the Casino on 26 September 1852.  Bull-necked, with blazing eyes, he sat with a pile of gold coins before him, his widely outstretched arms resting on the gaming table.  He only ever played the maximum stakes.  In the three days leading up to 29 September he had won 180,000 francs – a critical loss for the Bank, whose total cash reserves amounted to just 300,000 francs.  On this day the bank ran out of money and play had to be prematurely suspended.

    The situation of the bank became tricky.  Trittler, the director, went to Frankfurt and offered Rothschild 400 shares in the Casino company for 200,000 Guilders.  Rothschild was cautious.  He demanded a guarantee from casino owner François Blanc, who was staying in Paris.  There were delays.  The Bank recovered, however, because there were subsequently enough players who lost money.  The Prince had not made an appearance. When he did reappear, on 2 October, he played with the highest stakes, and up to 10.00 p.m. had nothing but losses.  The Casino directors breathed again.  But suddenly his luck changed.  In a short time the Prince had won 560,000 francs.  But the Bank was ready.

    The next morning the directors called a meeting and the shareholders were called in.  A decision was made that the maximum stake would be reduced from 4,000 to 2,000 francs.  This was a breach of the statute, but the Bank had to fend for itself.  There was an application to the local government for permission for a second zero to be added to the wheel.  But then came a telegram from François Blanc in Paris who placed 1,200,000 francs at the disposal of the casino and ordered that play should recommence.

    On the same morning came the news that the Prince had left.  The directors and shareholders dared to smile again.  Nevertheless, Blanc’s offer had to be taken up because the available capital had shrunk to 59,000 francs.

    After fourteen days the loss was made up although in this half-year instead of the usual dividend of 72 francs per share, only 37 were paid.

    For a long time the Homburg Casino was grateful to the Prince.  In Paris peace returned with the enthronement of the nephew as Napoleon III.  As peace returned, there was time once more for conversation and for travel.  Bad Homburg, where the Prince had encountered such good fortune, became a meeting point for all of Parisian society.  François Blanc had achieved his goal.”

    As in the case of Charles Wells, who won vast sums at François Blanc’s subsequent casino in Monte Carlo almost 40 years later, news of the colossal wins spread far and wide, tempting others to try their luck, too.  Most of them simply lost money, and the casino quickly re-filled its coffers.

  • A Victim of the Patent Scam

    Alongside his bank-breaking adventures at Monte Carlo, Charles Deville Wells was a renowned fraudster who persuaded unsuspecting people to hand large sums of money to him – often in connection with phony inventions he claimed to have developed.  Regular visitors to this blog will know that, in addition to the details in my book, I have found further information about some of these victims.

    A few, though, have been harder to trace.  An example was a man whose name appeared in the press as ‘Lionel William Barton’.  No-one of this name could be traced.  Recently, however, I discovered a bulky file in the National Archives relating to Wells’ bankruptcy.*  This shows that the surname of the individual in question was in fact Bartram – not Barton.  This enabled me to resume enquiries.

    Lionel William Bartram was the son of a wealthy businessman who had owned a brewery in Tonbridge, Kent.  The father died when Lionel was about 16. On attaining the age of 21, Lionel came into a substantial inheritance, which should have been enough to set him up for life.  However, shortly afterwards, he no doubt shocked his family by marrying a servant girl named Minnie McCreith.

    Lionel then went on to squander his inheritance and by the early 1890s all the money had gone, leaving him deeply in debt.  He must have felt that his luck had changed when he spotted one of Charles Wells’ newspaper advertisements offering a fortune for a relatively small investment, and no doubt saw this as a miraculous solution to his financial problems.

    From The Times

    Lionel contacted Wells who promptly replied promising even larger profits than those mentioned in the advertisement.  In return for an investment of £750 (the equivalent of £75,000 in today’s values) Wells suggested that Bartram was likely to receive a lump-sum of £120,000 (£12 million today).  This would be followed by substantial annual royalties.  Bartram sent Wells a cheque, having almost certainly borrowed this sum, but predictably he never received a penny of the promised returns.  He was declared bankrupt in 1891.

    Seven years later, when he applied for a discharge from bankruptcy, the High Court turned down his appeal on the grounds that he had ‘contributed to his bankruptcy by rash and hazardous speculations’.  (By a curious coincidence, his address at this time was 18 Featherstone Buildings, Holborn, London; many years previously Charles Wells’ father had lived next door at number 17 Featherstone Buildings).

    * I am grateful to Simon Fowler for his assistance in finding this file for me.


  • A Mystery Witness

    Not long after breaking the bank at Monte Carlo, Charles Deville Wells was arrested, having defrauded numerous people in a scam involving phony patents.  A woman named Frances M. Budd was one of the witnesses who testified against Wells at the preliminary court hearing.  She was currently living at Woolton, Liverpool, she said, but had previously resided in Worthing.  Wells had promised her annual profits of £15,000 (in today’s money) in return for an investment of £30 (£3,000 today).  She had had some difficulty raising £30 but finally sent Wells a cheque.  In common with all of Wells’ victims she did not receive a penny of the promised returns.DSC00510

    ‘Was £30 a large sum for you to lose?’, the judge asked.  She answered that it was.  She added that she had later visited Monte Carlo and, by coincidence, had seen Charles Wells at the gambling tables.

    ‘You saw him at Monte Carlo playing roulette?’ asked one of the lawyers.

    ‘He was playing trente-et-quarante [a card game]’ replied Miss Budd.

    ‘Did you follow his luck?’

    ‘I watched him’.

    ‘Did you win your £30 back?’

    ‘Did I win it?  I didn’t play’

    I was keen to discover more about Miss Budd; it should have been an easy task to find her in the 1891 Census at either Worthing or Woolton, but the search proved far more difficult than I could possibly have imagined.  Though there were very few people in the census with the name Frances Budd and middle initial ‘M’, none of them matched the details given in court.

    But what if the person in question had been out of the country when the census was taken?

    I noted that there was a woman named Frances Maude Budd, who appears in earlier and later censuses, such as 1881 and 1901, but whose name is missing from the 1891 Census.  Further research revealed that her sister was also absent from this survey, as were her cousin and the cousin’s husband.  A logical conclusion is that Miss Budd and her relatives had all left Britain for an overseas trip together.  It was not uncommon for reasonably well-to-do people to take extended tours of the Continent lasting weeks or even months, and it could well have been on this trip that Miss Budd visited Monte Carlo.

    This was all circumstantial, however, and for a time I felt that I might never find any stronger evidence to back up my conclusions.  But then I stumbled upon an important clue.

    A month after the 1891 census took place, a magazine editor, Henry Labouchère, described a letter he had received from a member of the public.  He does not disclose this person’s name but the similarity is so great that there can be little doubt that his correspondent was Miss Budd.  He notes that the letter was sent from ‘the Continent’; that the sum the writer had paid to Wells was £30 ; that she could ill afford the money at the time and that its loss had caused her some difficulty.  All of these facts correspond to the courtroom evidence.  The writer also stated that she felt unable to take legal action against Wells on her own, and that she had no male relatives to assist her.  This tallies with Frances Maude Budd, who had been orphaned since the age of 11, and whose family tree confirms that there were no close male relatives.  Finally, the writer says she would be happy to co-operate with other victims to bring a prosecution against Wells.  Miss Budd was indeed a witness for the prosecution, one of a relatively small number of victims who were prepared to come forward to prosecute Wells.  (There were many others who were clearly ashamed to admit that they had been duped).

    Frances Maude Budd evidently got over her unfortunate experience.  The 1901 census shows that at the time she was employed as a tea-taster — an occupation which was exceedingly rare for a woman, and still is.  It appears that she later lived in London for a time, but little else is known about the rest of her life.  Records show that she died in a Bournemouth care home in 1952 at the age of 86.


    “Fascinating and factual in depth research by Robin Quinn … compelling reading”  [Ebay customer’s review]

    “I have often wondered about the fate of German POWs in and after the war – and this book has given a comprehensive and easily readable account.  Much enjoyed”  [Ebay customer’s review]



    ‘I can’t rate this book highly enough. Not what I expected, very quick moving and so full of wonderful details. You get close to the exceptional Charles Wells and the last chapters are revealing as so much is explained. I am staggered at the sheer amount of research that must have gone into this wonderful story. Thank you Robin! Note, the audible version is read by Jonathon Keeble who is absolutely excellent with this book. I normally read historical fiction, but this book was as good as any’.

    (JOHN ADA, Goodreads: