Confessions of a Gambler

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 87, 4 July 1927, Page 1

Confessions of a Gambler

Folly Must Be Paid For

Desperate Millionaire Reveals His Soul

ALL England rings with the story of the sensational collapse and suicide of James White, the millionaire stockbroker. It was left to the dead man, however, to leave the most poignant tale of his life and folly. This was given in a stark confession to a London newspaper.

By Cattle. —Press Association.—Copyright Reed. 11.27 a.m. LONDON, Sunday. A N article in the “Sunday Express,” ' cx - headed, “How I Look at Life,” written by James White, the millionaire speculator, just before his suicide, says; —■ "While on the threshold of eternity, I must make an unparalleled, stark and bare revelation of my soul. I entertained- royalty, called dukes and earls by their pet names. I have been on the inside of politics, owned a yacht, a racing stud, a theatre, and newspapers. I have raised £150,000,000 for various undertakings, promoted prize-fights, and subsidised boxers. I have made a quarter of a million one day, have been feted by ail, and called Jimmy White by world pepole. I have known what it is to go hungry. I have known what it is to have all, and have seen the desire of thousands waiting to eat out of my hand. I have had a special train to Manchester, yet in 1900 I walked from London to Rochdale because I was penniless. I have known men and women who, while you are useful to them by cash or kind, spoke kindly and even affectionately of you, but changed to aloofness when the bank balance dwindled. “On the last day of my life my brain unwinds before my eyes episode after episode to the last. Old-time nice feelings of contentment have been replaced by a roaring hectic existence. One day follows another and the similar monotony of each day succeeds that of the previous one, each individual having the same desires for more money, less work, and more gaiety. The sight of having so many pay homage to wealth is sickening to the soul. “While his wealth lasts a man can give parties and presents, and be the sole talk at nights clubs of a certain social set, and have paragraph in the gossip columns of the newspapers. He thinks himself

second only to God. Let money leave him and the only friends left are remorse and regret. It does not appear, though one misses much by sleeping forever, but I stay at the final moment of my life and as I look up from writing, I see before me the photo of Tny wife and three bonny babes. Her eyes seem to be devouring me with love and adoration. The drabness and rapacity of it all are forgotten in the presence of those you love. My head swims, and my heart throbs. I bend my knees and look to God, for I have seen the guilty folly of gambling, and the price has to be paid.” DID NOT HEED ADVICE FIGHT AGAINST FRIEND , CONTROL OF SHARES By Cable.—Press Association.—Copyright Reed. 11.30 a.m. LONDON, Sunday. The newspapers are filled with long accounts of the life and crash of James White. From the mass of stories it appears that Sir Edward Mackay Edgar, chairman of the British-controlled Oilfields, tried finally, at the expense of friendship, in a heated quarrel, to convince White that the resources of the oilfield did not justify the fabulous price to which he planned to force the shares. Yet White went on with his attempt to fight Edgar and get control of the majority of the shares. He had the necessary options, but found himself on June IS about threequarters of a million short. Several quarters persist with the story that a wealthy friend agreed that night to stand by him, but White could not be located and told the news. Meanwhile White was writing the farewell letters. It is feared his family will be penniless.—A. and N.Z.