'The old saying,' said the referee, 'that THE CARDS WOULD BEAT THE CARD-MAKER, was never more true than it is in this instance, for this pack would beat not only me, but the very d—l himself; there is not only an OLD GENTLEMAN, but an OLD LADY (a card broader than the rest) amongst them.'
The two 'gentlemen' were immediately accused of the imposition, but they feigned ignorance of the fraud, refused to return a farthing of the 'swag,' and, in their turn, charged the losers with having got up the story in order to recover what they had fairly lost.
GENEROSITY (?) OF A GAMING HOUSE KEEPER.
A young West Indian chanced one night to enter one of the gaming houses in London, and began trying his chance at Roulette. Fortune favoured him at first, and he won about a hundred pounds.
Instead of leaving off he only became the more excited by his success, when his luck began to change, and he lost and lost until he staked the last coin he had in his pocket. He then pawned to the master of the table successively every ring and trinket he had, for money to continue the stakes. All in vain. His luck never returned; and he made his way down-stairs in a mood which may well be imagined. But what was his surprise when the master of the table came running after him, saying—'Sir, these things may be valuable to you—do me the favour to take them with you. Next time I hope you will be more lucky,' and returned all his rings and trinkets.
The moon was shining brightly at the time, and the young man swore by it, that he would never again enter a gaming house, and he kept his oath. Of course the generosity was but a decoy to entice the youth to further ruin.
HOSPITALITY OF GAMING HOUSES, AND POPULARITY OF CITY MEN AT THEM.
Joseph Atkinson and his wife, who for many years kept a gaming house at No. 15 under the Piazza, Covent Garden, gave daily magnificent play dinners,—cards of invitation for which were sent to the clerks of merchants, bankers, and brokers in the city. Atkinson used to say that he liked CITIZENS—whom he called FLATS—better than any one else, for when they had DINED they played freely, and after they had lost all their money they had credit to borrow more. When he had CLEANED THEM OUT, when THE PIGEONS WERE COMPLETELY PLUCKED, they were sent to some of their solvent friends. After dinner play was introduced, and, till dinner time the nest day, different games at cards, dice, and E O were continually going on.
THE TRAFFIC IN HUSH MONEY.
Theophilus Bellasis, an infamous character, was well known at Bow Street, where he had been charged with breaking into the counting-house of Sir James Sanderson, Bart. Bellasis was sometimes clerk and sometimes client to John Shepherd, an attorney of Bow Street; while at other times Shepherd was prosecutor of those who kept gaming houses, and Bellasis attorney. Sir William Addington, the magistrate, was so well aware that these two men commenced prosecutions solely for the purpose of HUSH MONEY, that he refused to act. The Joseph Atkinson just mentioned at one time gave them L100, at another L80; and in this way they had amassed an immense sum, and undertook, for a specific amount, to defend keepers of gaming houses against all prosecutions!
WALKING OFF WITH A L200 BANK-NOTE.
The runaway son of an extensive linen-draper went to a gaming house in King Street, and pocketed a L200 bank-note from the table. He was not kicked out, because it would not be safe for the proprietors of these houses to run the risk of getting involved in law; but he was civilly walked down-stairs by the master of the establishment, who forbad him the house evermore. The dashing youth, however, put both the money and the affront in his pocket, and was only too thankful to get away in so good a plight.
PERQUISITES OF GAMBLING HOUSE WAITERS.
A waiter in one of the gambling houses in St James's Street received in Christmas boxes above L500. A nobleman, who had in the course of a week won L80,000, gave him L100 of his winnings. He was said to have actually borrowed of the waiter the money which led to his extraordinary success!
PAUL ROUBEL.
Paul Roubel was a gaming house keeper, who seems to have been an exception to his class, according to the following account:—'A foreigner once applied for the situation of croupier at old Paul Roubel's, stating as his qualification that he could cut or turn up whatever card he pleased. The old man (for he was nearly eighty, and a very good hearty fellow in his way) declined the offer, saying—"You are too clever for me; my customers must have some chance!" It is true Roubel kept a gambling house; but it is also true that few men in higher walks of life possessed a kinder heart, or a hand which opened more freely or more liberally to the calls of humanity! Peace be to his manes!'
TITLED GREEKS, OR 'DECOYS.'
In all the gaming houses of any note there were unprincipled and reckless persons paid by the hellites, employed in various capacities, and for various purposes. Sometimes they played for the proprietors against any one who chose to put down his money; at other times, when there were no other individuals playing at all, they pretended to be strangers themselves, and got up sham games with the proprietors, with the view of practising a deception on any strangers who might be in the room, and by that means inducing them to put down their money. They were dressed in the most fashionable manner, always exhibiting a profusion of jewellery, and living in great splendour when they have any particular person in their eye, in the various hotels throughout town.(50)
(50) Grant, Sketches in London.
In some cases, in the higher class of gaming establishments, the Greeks, or decoys, being men of title or considerable standing in society, did not receive a fixed salary for seducing young men of fortune, but being in every case very needy men, they nominally borrowed, from time to time, large sums of money from the hell-keepers. It was, however, perfectly understood on both sides that the amount so borrowed was never to be repaid.(51)
(51) Grant, Ubi supra.
WHY CHEATS WERE CALLED GREEKS.
M. Robert-Houdin says that this application of the term 'Greek' originated from a certain modern Greek, named Apoulos, who in the reign of Louis XIV. was caught cheating at court, and was condemned to 20 years at the galleys. I think this a very improbable derivation, and unnecessary withal. Aristotle of old, as before stated, ranked gamesters 'with thieves and plunderers, who for the sake of gain do not scruple to despoil their best friends.' We afterwards find them bearing just as bad a character among the Romans. Says Juvenal—
Dr Johnson translated the words, 'Bid him to h—l, to h—l he goes'—which is wrong. A DIFFICULTY is implied, and everybody knows that it is easier to go to the latter place than the former. It means that a needy Greek was capable of doing anything. Lord Byron protested that he saw no difference between Greeks and Jews—of course, meaning 'Jews' in the offensive sense of the word. Among gamblers the term was chiefly applied to 'decoys.'
GAMING TABLE SLANG AND MANOEUVRES.
Captain Sharp. A cheating bully, whose office it was to bully any 'Pigeon,' who, suspecting roguery, refused to pay what he had lost.
St Hugh's bones. Dice. A bale of bard cinque deuces; a bale of flat cinque deuces; a bale of flat size aces; a bale of bard cater treys; a bale of flat cater treys; a bale of Fulhams; a bale of light graniers; a bale of gordes, with as many highmen and lowmen for passage; a bale of demies; a bale of long dice for even or odd; a bale of bristles; a bale of direct contraries,—names of false dice.
Do. To cheat.
Done up. Ruined.
Down-hills. False dice which run low.
Elbow-shaker. A gamester.
Fulhams. Loaded dice.
Fuzz. To shuffle cards closely: to change the pack.
Game. Bubbles, Flats, Pigeons.
Gull Gropers. Usurers who lend money to gamesters.
Greeks. Cheats at play.
Hedge. To secure a bet by betting on the other side.
High Jinks. A gambler who drinks to intoxicate his Pigeon.
Hunting. Drawing in the unwary.
Main. Any number on the dice from five to nine.
Paum. To hide a card or die.
Pigeons. Dupes of sharpers at play.
Vincent's Law. The art of cheating at cards, by the banker, who plays booty, Gripe, who bets, and the Vincent, who is cheated. The gain is called termage.
Vowel. To give an I. O. U. in payment.
Up-hills. False dice which run high.
SPECIMEN OF A QUASI GAMING HOUSE CIRCULAR.
'SIR,—I hope you will join with the rest of the parishioners in recommending what friends you can to my shops. They shall have good candles and fair play. Sir, we are a not gang of swindlers,
This circular was sent to Stockdale, the publisher, in 1820, who published it with the names in asterisks suppressed. It was evidently intended to expose some doings in high places.
A distinction must be made between games of skill and games of chance. The former require application, attention, and a certain degree of ability to insure success in them; while the latter are devoid of all that is rational, and are equally within the reach of the highest and lowest capacity. To be successful in throwing the dice is one of the most fickle achievements of fickle fortune; and therefore the principal game played with them is very properly and emphatically called 'Hazard.' It requires, indeed, some exertion of the mental powers, of memory, at least, and a turn for such diversions, to play well many games at cards.
Nevertheless, it is often found that those who do so give no further proofs of superior memory and judgment, whilst persons of superior memory and judgment not unfrequently fail egregiously at the card-table.
The gamester of skill, in games of skill, may at first sight seem to have more advantage than the gamester of chance, in games of chance; and while cards are played merely as an amusement, there is no doubt that a recreation is more rational when it requires some degree of skill than one, like dice, totally devoid of all meaning whatever. But when the pleasure becomes a business, and a matter of mere gain, there is more innocence, perhaps, in a perfect equality of antagonists—which games of chance, fairly played, always secure—than where one party is likely to be an overmatch for the other by his superior knowledge or ability.
Nevertheless, even games of chance may be artfully managed; and the most apparently casual throw of the dice be made subservient to the purposes of chicanery and fraud, as will be shown in the sequel.
In the matter of skill and chance the nature of cards is mixed,—most games having in them both elements of interest,—since the success of the player must depend as much on the chance of the 'deal' as on his skill in playing the game. But even the chance of the deal is liable to be perverted by all the tricks of shuffling and cutting—not to mention how the honourable player may be deceived in a thousand ways by the craft of the sharper, during the playing, of the cards themselves; consequently professed gamblers of all denominations, whether their games be of apparent skill or mere chance, may be confounded together or considered in the same category, as being equally meritorious and equally infamous.
Under the name of the Doctrine of Chances or Probabilities, a very learned science,—much in vogue when lotteries were prevalent,—has been applied to gambling purposes; and in spite of the obvious abstruseness of the science, it is not impossible to give the general reader an idea of its processes and conclusions.
The probability of an event is greater or less according to the number of chances by which it may happen, compared with the whole number of chances by which it may either happen or fail. Wherefore, if we constitute a fraction whereof the numerator be the number of chances whereby an event may happen, and the denominator the number of all the chances whereby it may either happen or fail, that fraction will be a proper designation of the probability of happening. Thus, if an event has 3 chances to happen, and 2 to fail, then the fraction 3/5 will fairly represent the probability of its happening, and may be taken to be the measure of it.
The same may be said of the probability of failing, which will likewise be measured by a fraction whose numerator is the number of chances whereby it may fail, and the denominator the whole number of chances both for its happening and failing; thus the probability of the failing of that event which has 2 chances to fail and 3 to happen will be measured by the fraction 2/5.
The fractions which represent the probabilities of happening and failing, being added together, their sum will always be equal to unity, since the sum of their numerators will be equal to their common denominator. Now, it being a certainty that an event will either happen or fail, it follows that certainty, which may be conceived under the notion of an infinitely great degree of probability, is fitly represented by unity.
These things will be easily apprehended if it be considered that the word probability includes a double idea; first, of the number of chances whereby an event may happen; secondly, of the number of chances whereby it may either happen or fail. If I say that I have three chances to win any sum of money, it is impossible from the bare assertion to judge whether I am likely to obtain it; but if I add that the number of chances either to obtain it or miss it, is five in all, from this will ensue a comparison between the chances that are for and against me, whereby a true judgment will be formed of my probability of success; whence it necessarily follows that it is the comparative magnitude of the number of chances to happen, in respect of the whole number of chances either to happen or to fail, which is the true measure of probability.
To find the probability of throwing an ace in two throws with a single die. The probability of throwing an ace the first time is 1/6; whereof 1/ is the first part of the probability required. If the ace be missed the first time, still it may be thrown on the second; but the probability of missing it the first time is 5/6, and the probability of throwing it the second time is 1/6; therefore the probability of missing it the first time and throwing it the second, is 5/6 X 1/6 = 5/36 and this is the second part of the probability required, and therefore the probability required is in all 1/6 + 5/36 = 11/36.
To this case is analogous a question commonly proposed about throwing with two dice either six or seven in two throws, which will be easily solved, provided it be known that seven has 6 chances to come up, and six 5 chances, and that the whole number of chances in two dice is 36; for the number of chances for throwing six or seven 11, it follows that the probability of throwing either chance the first time is 11/36, but if both are missed the first time, still either may be thrown the second time; but the probability of missing both the first time is 25/36, and the probability of throwing either of them on the second is 11/36; therefore the probability of missing both of them the first time, and throwing either of them the second time, is 25/36 X 11/36 = 275/1296, and therefore the probability required is 11/36 + 275/1296 = 671/1296, and the probability of the contrary is 625/1296.
Among the many mistakes that are committed about chances, one of the most common and least suspected was that which related to lotteries. Thus, supposing a lottery wherein the proportion of the blanks to the prizes was as five to one, it was very natural to conclude that, therefore, five tickets were requisite for the chance of a prize; and yet it is demonstrable that four tickets were more than sufficient for that purpose. In like manner, supposing a lottery in which the proportion of the blanks to the prize is as thirty-nine to one (as was the lottery of 1710), it may be proved that in twenty-eight tickets a prize is as likely to be taken as not, which, though it may contradict the common notions, is nevertheless grounded upon infallible demonstrations.
When the Play of the Royal Oak was in use, some persons who lost considerably by it, had their losses chiefly occasioned by an argument of which they could not perceive the fallacy. The odds against any particular point of the ball were one and thirty to one, which entitled the adventurers, in case they were winners, to have thirty-two stakes returned, including their own; instead of which, as they had but twenty-eight, it was very plain that, on the single account of the disadvantage of the play, they lost one-eighth part of all the money played for. But the master of the ball maintained that they had no reason to complain, since he would undertake that any particular point of the ball should come up in two and twenty throws; of this he would offer to lay a wager, and actually laid it when required. The seeming contradiction between the odds of one and thirty to one, and twenty-two throws for any chance to come up, so perplexed the adventurers that they began to think the advantage was on their side, and so they went on playing and continued to lose.
The doctrine of chances tends to explode the long-standing superstition that there is in play such a thing as LUCK, good or bad. If by saying that a man has good luck, nothing more were meant than that he has been generally a gainer at play, the expression might be allowed as very proper in a short way of speaking; but if the word 'good luck' be understood to signify a certain predominant quality, so inherent in a man that he must win whenever he plays, or at least win oftener than lose, it may be denied that there is any such thing in nature. The asserters of luck maintain that sometimes they have been very lucky, and at other times they have had a prodigious run of bad luck against them, which whilst it continued obliged them to be very cautious in engaging with the fortunate. They asked how they could lose fifteen games running if bad luck had not prevailed strangely against them. But it is quite certain that although the odds against losing so many times together be very great, namely, 32,767 to 1,—yet the POSSIBILITY of it is not destroyed by the greatness of the odds, there being ONE chance in 32,768 that it may so happen; therefore it follows that the succession of lost games was still possible, without the intervention of bad luck. The accident of losing fifteen games is no more to be imputed to bad luck than the winning, with one single ticket, the highest prize in a lottery of 32,768 tickets is to be imputed to good luck, since the chances in both cases are perfectly equal. But if it be said that luck has been concerned in the latter case, the answer will be easy; for let us suppose luck not existing, or at least let us suppose its influence to be suspended,—yet the highest prize must fall into some hand or other, not as luck (for, by the hypothesis, that has been laid aside), but from the mere necessity of its falling somewhere.
Among the many curious results of these inquiries according to the doctrine of chances, is the prodigious advantage which the repetition of odds will amount to. Thus, 'supposing I play with an adversary who allows me the odds of 43 to 40, and agrees with me to play till 100 stakes are won or lost on either side, on condition that I give him an equivalent for the gain I am entitled to by the advantage of my odds;—the question is, what I am to give him, supposing we play at a guinea a stake? The answer is 99 guineas and above 18 shillings,(52) which will seem almost incredible, considering the smallness of the odds—43 to 40. Now let the odds be in any proportion, and let the number of stakes played for be never so great, yet one general conclusion will include all the possible cases, and the application of it to numbers may be worked out in less than a minute's time.'(53)
(52) The guinea was worth 21s. 6d. when the work quoted was written.
(53) De Moivre, Doctrine of Chances.
The possible combinations of cards in a hand as dealt out by chance are truly wonderful. It has been established by calculation that a player at Whist may hold above 635 thousand millions of various hands! So that, continually varied, at 50 deals per evening, for 313 evenings, or 15,650 hands per annum, he might be above 40 millions of years before he would have the same hand again!
The chance is equal, in dealing cards, that every hand will have seven trumps in two deals, or seven trumps between two partners, and also four court cards in every deal. It is also certain on an average of hands, that nothing can be more superstitious and absurd than the prevailing notions about luck or ill-luck. Four persons, constantly playing at Whist during a long voyage, were frequently winners and losers to a large amount, but as frequently at 'quits;' and at the end of the voyage, after the last game, one of them was minus only one franc!
The chance of having a particular card out of 13 is 13/52, or 1 to 4, and the chance of holding any two cards is 1/4 of 1/4 or 1/16. The chances of a game are generally inversely as the number got by each, or as the number to be got to complete each game.
The chances against holding seven trumps are 160 to 1; against six, it is 26 to 1; against five, 6 to 1; and against four nearly 2 to 1. It is 8 to 1 against holding any two particular cards.
Similar calculations have been made respecting the probabilities with dice. There are 36 chances upon two dice.
It is an even chance that you throw 8. It is 35 to 1 against throwing any particular doublets, and 6 to 1 against any doublets at all. It is 17 to 1 against throwing any two desired numbers. It is 4 to 9 against throwing a single number with either of the dice, so as to hit a blot and enter. Against hitting with the amount of two dice, the chances against 7, 8, and 9 are 5 to 1; against 10 are 11 to 1; against 11 are 17 to 1; and against sixes, 35 to 1.
The probabilities of throwing required totals with two dice, depend on the number of ways in which the totals can be made up by the dice;—2, 3, 11, or 12 can only be made up one way each, and therefore the chance is but 1/36;—4, 5, 9, 10 may be made up two ways, or 1/8;—6, 7, 8 three ways, or 1/12. The chance of doublets is 1/36, the chance of PARTICULAR doublets 1/216.
The method was largely applied to lotteries, cock-fighting, and horse-racing. It may be asked how it is possible to calculate the odds in horse-racing, when perhaps the jockeys in a great measure know before they start which is to win?
In answer to this a question may be proposed:—Suppose I toss up a half-penny, and you are to guess whether it will be head or tail—must it not be allowed that you have an equal chance to win as to lose? Or, if I hide a half-penny under a hat, and I know what it is, have you not as good a chance to guess right, as if it were tossed up? My KNOWING IT TO BE HEAD can be no hindrance to you, as long as you have liberty of choosing either head or tail. In spite of this reasoning, there are people who build so much upon their own opinion, that should their favourite horse happen to be beaten, they will have it to be owing to some fraud.
The following fact is mentioned as a 'paradox.'
It happened at Malden, in Essex, in the year 1738, that three horses (and no more than three) started for a L10 plate, and they were all three distanced the first heat, according to the common rules in horse-racing, without any quibble or equivocation; and the following was the solution:—The first horse ran on the inside of the post; the second wanted weight; and the third fell and broke a fore-leg.(54)
(54) Cheany's Horse-racing Book.
In horse-racing the expectation of an event is considered as the present value, or worth, of whatsoever sum or thing is depending on the happening of that event. Therefore if the expectation on an event be divided by the value of the thing expected, on the happening of that event, the quotient will be the probability of happening.
Example I. Suppose two horses, A and B, to start for L50, and there are even bets on both sides; it is evident that the present value or worth of each of their expectations will be L25, and the probabilities 25/50 or 1/2. For, if they had agreed to divide the prize between them, according as the bets should be at the time of their starting, they would each of them be entitled to L25; but if A had been thought so much superior to B that the bets had been 3 to 2 in his favour, then the real value of A's expectation would have been L30, and that of B's only L20, and their several probabilities 30/50 and 20/50.
Example II. Let us suppose three horses to start for a sweepstake, namely, A, B, and C, and that the odds are 8 to 6 A against B, and 6 to 4 B against C—what are the odds—A against C, and the field against A? Answer:—2 to 1 A against C, and 10 to 8, or 5 to 4 the field against A. For
But if the bets had been 7 to 4 A against B; and even money B against C, then the odds would have been 8 to 7 the field against A, as shown in the following scheme:—
But as this is the basis upon which all the rest depends, another example or two may be required to make it as plain as possible.
Example III. Suppose the same three as before, and the common bets 7 to 4 A against B; 21 to 20 (or 'gold to silver') B against C; we must state it thus:—7 guineas to 4 A against B; and 4 guineas to L4, B against C; which being reduced into shillings, the scheme will stand as follows:—
By which it will be 164 to 147 the field against A, (something more than 39 to 35). Now, if we compare this with the last example, we may conclude it to be right; for if it had been 40 to 35, then it would have been 8 to 7, exactly as in the last example. But, as some persons may be at a loss to know why the numbers 39 and 35 are selected, it is requisite to show the same by means of the Sliding Rule. Set 164 upon the line A to 147 upon the slider B, and then look along till you see two whole numbers which stand exactly one against the other (or as near as you can come), which, in this case, you find to be 39 on A, standing against 35 on the slider B (very nearly). But as 164/311 and 147/311 are in the lowest terms, there are no less numbers, in the same proportion, as 164 to 147,—39 and 35 being the nearest, but not quite exact.
Example IV. There are four horses to start for a sweepstake, namely, A, B, C, D, and they are supposed to be as equally matched as possible. Now, Mr Sly has laid 10 guineas A against C, and also 10 guineas A against D. Likewise Mr Rider has laid 10 guineas A against C, and also 10 guineas B against D. After which Mr Dice laid Mr Sly 10 guineas to 4 that he will not win both his bets. Secondly, he laid Mr Rider 10 guineas to 4 that he will not win both his bets.
Now, we wish to know what Mr Dice's advantage or disadvantage is, in laying these two last-mentioned wagers.
First, the probability of Mr Sly's winning both his bets is 1/3 of 14 guineas; and Mr Dice's expectation is 2/3 of 14 guineas, or L9 16s., which being deducted from his own stake (10 guineas), there remains 14s., which is his disadvantage in that bet.
Secondly, Mr Rider's expectation of winning his two bets is 1/4, and, therefore, Mr Dice's expectation of the 14 guineas, is 3/4, or L11 0s. 6d., from which deduct 10 guineas (his own stake), and there remains 10s. 6d., his advantage in this bet,—which being deducted from 14s. (his disadvantage in the other), there remains 3s 6d., his disadvantage in paying both these bets.
These examples may suffice to show the working of the system; regular tables exist adapted to all cases; and there can be no doubt that those who have realized large fortunes by horse-racing managed to do so by uniformly acting on some such principles, as well as by availing themselves of such 'valuable information' as may be secured, before events come off, by those who make horse-racing their business.
The same system was applied, and with still greater precision, to Cock-fighting, to Lotteries, Raffles, Backgammon, Cribbage, Put, All Fours, and Whist, showing all the chances of holding any particular card or cards. Thus, it is 2 to 1 that your partner has not one certain card; 17 to 2 that he has not two certain cards; 31 to 26 that he has not one of them only; and 32 to 25 (or 5 to 4) that he has one or both—that is, when two cards are in question. It is 31 to 1 that he has three certain cards; 7 to 2 that he has not two; 7 to 6 that he has not one; 13 to 6 that he has either one or two; 5 to 2 that he has one, two, or three cards; that is, when three cards are in question.
With regard to the dealer and his partner, it is 57,798 to 7176 (better than 8 to 1) that they are not four by honours; it is 32,527 to 32,448 (or about an even bet) that they are not two by honours; it is 36,924 to 25,350 (or 11 to 7 nearly) that the honours count; it is 42,237 to 22,737 (or 15 to 8 nearly) that the dealer is nothing by honours.(55)
(55) Proctor, The Sportsman's Sure Guide. Lond. A.D. 1733.
Such is a general sketch of the large subject included under the term of the calculation of probabilities, which comprises not only the chances of games of hazard, insurances, lotteries, &c., but also the determination of future events from observations made relative to events of the same nature. This subject of inquiry dates only from the 17th century, and occupied the minds of Pascal, Huygens, Fermot, Bernouilli, Laplace, Fourier, Lacroix, Poisson, De Moivre; and in more modern times, Cournot, Quetelet, and Professor De Morgan.
In the matter of betting, or in estimating the 'odds' in betting, of course an acquaintance with the method must be of some service, and there can be no doubt that professional gamesters endeavoured to master the subject.
M. Robert-Houdin, in his amusing work, Les Tricheries des Grecs devoilees, has propounded some gaming axioms which are at least curious and interesting; they are presented as those of a professional gambler and cheat.
1. 'Every game of chance presents two kinds of chances which are very distinct,—namely, those relating to the person interested, that is, the player; and those inherent in the combinations of the game.'
In the former there is what must be called, for the want of a better name, 'good luck' or 'bad luck,' that is, some mysterious cause which at times gives the play a 'run' of good or bad luck; in the latter there is the entire doctrine of 'probabilities' aforesaid, which, according to M. Houdin's gaming hero, may be completely discarded for the following axiom:—
2. 'If chance can bring into the game all possible combinations, there are, nevertheless, certain limits at which it seems to stop. Such, for instance, as a certain number turning up ten times in succession at Roulette. This is possible, but it has never happened.'
Nevertheless a most remarkable fact is on record. In 1813, a Mr Ogden betted 1000 guineas to ONE guinea, that calling seven as the main, the caster would not throw that number ten times successively. Wonderful to relate! the caster threw seven nine times following. Thereupon Mr Ogden offered him 470 guineas to be off the bet—which he refused. The caster took the box again and threw nine,—and so Mr Ogden won his guinea!(56) In this case there seems to have been no suspicion whatever of unfair dice being used.
(56) Seymour Harcourt, The Gaming Calendar.
3. 'In a game of chance, the oftener the same combination has occurred in succession, the nearer we are to the certainty that it will not recur at the next cast or turn up. This is the most elementary of the theories on probabilities; it is termed the MATURITY OF THE CHANCES.'
'Hence,' according to this great authority, 'a player must come to the table not only "in luck," but he must not risk his money excepting at the instant prescribed by the rules of the maturity of the chances.'
Founded on this theory we have the following precepts for gamesters:—
1. 'For gaming, prefer Roulette, because it presents several ways of staking your money(57)—which permits the study of several.
(57) 'Pair, impair, passe, manque, and the 38 numbers of the Roulette, besides the different combinations of POSITION' and 'maturities' together.
2. 'A player should approach the gaming table perfectly calm and cool—just as a merchant or tradesman in treaty about any affair.
If he gets into a passion, it is all over with prudence, all over with good luck—for the demon of bad luck invariably pursues a passionate player.
3. 'Every man who finds a pleasure in playing runs the risk of losing.
4. 'A prudent player, before undertaking anything, should put himself to the test to discover if he is "in vein"—in luck. In all doubt, you should abstain.'
I remember a curious incident in my childhood, which seems much to the point of this axiom. A magnificent gold watch and chain were given towards the building of a church, and my mother took three chances, which were at a very high figure, the watch and chain being valued at more than L100. One of these chances was entered in my name, one in my brother's, and the third in my mother's. I had to throw for her as well as myself. My brother threw an insignificant figure; for myself I did the same; but, oddly enough, I refused to throw for my mother on finding that I had lost my chance, saying that I should wait a little longer—rather a curious piece of prudence for a child of thirteen. The raffle was with three dice; the majority of the chances had been thrown, and 34 was the highest. After declining to throw I went on throwing the dice for amusement, and was surprised to find that every throw was better than the one I had in the raffle. I thereupon said—'Now I'll throw for mamma.' I threw thirty-six, which won the watch! My mother had been a large subscriber to the building of the church, and the priest said that my winning the watch for her was quite PROVIDENTIAL. According to M. Houdin's authority, however, it seems that I only got into 'vein'—but how I came to pause and defer throwing the last chance, has always puzzled me respecting this incident of my childhood, which made too great an impression ever to be effaced.
5. 'There are persons who are constantly pursued by bad luck. To such I say—NEVER PLAY.
6. 'Stubborness at play is ruin.
7. 'Remember that Fortune does not like people to be overjoyed at her favours, and that she prepares bitter deceptions for the imprudent, who are intoxicated by success.'
Such are the chief axioms of a most experienced gamester, and M. Houdin sums up the whole into the following:—
8. 'Before risking your money at play, you must deeply study your "vein" and the different probabilities of the game—termed the maturity of the chances.'
M. Robert-Houdin got all this precious information from a gamester named Raymond. It appears that the first meeting between him and this man was at a subscription-ball, where the sharper managed to fleece him and others to a considerable amount, contriving a dexterous escape when detected. Houdin afterwards fell in with him at Spa, where he found him in the greatest poverty, and lent him a small sum—to practise his grand theories as just explained—but which he lost—whereupon Houdin advised him 'to take up a less dangerous occupation.' He then appears to have revealed to Houdin the entertaining particulars which form the bulk of his book, so dramatically written. A year afterwards Houdin unexpectedly fell in with him again; but this time the fellow was transformed into what he called 'a demi-millionnaire,' having succeeded to a large fortune by the death of his brother, who died intestate. According to Houdin the following was the man's declaration at the auspicious meeting:—'I have,' said Raymond, 'completely renounced gaming. I am rich enough, and care no longer for fortune. And yet,' he added proudly, 'if I now cared for the thing, how I could BREAK those bloated banks in their pride, and what a glorious vengeance I could take of BAD LUCK and its inflexible agents! But my heart is too full of my happiness to allow the smallest place for the desire of vengeance.'
A very proper speech, unquestionably, and rendered still more edifying by M. Houdin's assurance that Raymond, at his death three years after, bequeathed the whole of his fortune to various charitable institutions at Paris.
With regard to the man's gaming theories, however, it may be just as well to consider the fact, that very many clever people, after contriving fine systems and schemes for ruining gaming banks, have, as M. Houdin reminds us, only succeeded in ruining themselves and those who conformed to their precepts.
The knights of hazard and devotees of chance, who live in and by the rattle of the box, little know, or care, perhaps, to whom they are indebted for the invention of their favourite cube. They will solace themselves, no doubt, on being told that they are pursuing a diversion of the highest antiquity, and which has been handed down through all civilized as well as barbarous nations to our own times.
The term 'cube,' which is the figure of a die, comes originally from the Arabic word 'ca'b,' or 'ca'be,' whence the Greeks derived their cubos, and cubeia, which is used to signify any solid figure perfectly square every way—such as the geometrical cube, the die used in play, and the temple at Mecca, which is of the same figure. The Persic name for 'die' is 'dad,' and from this word is derived the name of the thing in Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian, namely, dado. In the old French it is det, in the plural dets; in modern French de and dez, whence our English name 'die,' and its plural 'dies,' or 'dice.'
Plato tells us that dice and gaming originated with a certain demon, whom he calls Theuth, which seems very much like the original patronymic of our Teutonic races, always famous for their gambling propensity. The Greeks generally, however, ascribed the invention of dice to one of their race, named Palamedes, a sort of universal genius, who hit upon many other contrivances, among the rest, weights and measures. But this worthy lived in the times of the Trojan war, and yet Homer makes no mention of dice—the astragaloi named by the poet being merely knuckle-bones. Dice, however, are mentioned by Aristophanes in his comedies, and so it seems that the invention must be placed between the times of the two poets, that is, about 2300 years ago. At any rate the cube or die has been in use as an instrument of play, at least, during that period of time.
The great antiquity, therefore, of the die as an instrument of pastime is unquestionable, and the general reason assigned for its invention was the amusement and relaxation of the mind from the pressure of difficulties, or from the fatigues and toils of protracted war. Indeed, one conjecture is, that gaming was invented by the Lydians when under the pressure of a great famine; to divert themselves from their sufferings they contrived dice, balls, tables, &c. This seems, however, rather a bad joke.
The afflicted Job asks—'Can a man fill his belly with the east wind?' And we can imagine that plenty of tobacco to smoke and 'chaw' would mitigate the pangs of starvation to an army in the field, as has been seriously suggested; but you might just as well present a soldier with a stone instead of bread, as invite him to amuse himself with dice, or anything else, to assuage the pangs of hunger.
Be that as it may, time soon matured this instrument of recreation into an engine of destruction; and the intended palliative of care and labour has proved the fostering nurse of innumerable evils. This diminutive cube has usurped a tyranny over mankind for more than two thousand years, and continues at this day to rule the world with despotic sway—levelling all distinctions of fortune in an instant by the fiat of its single turn.
The use of dice was probably brought into this island by the Romans, if not before known; it became more frequent in the times of our Saxon ancestry, and has prevailed with almost unimpaired vigour from those days to our own.
The Astragalos of the Greeks and Talus of the Romans were, as before stated, nothing but the knuckle-bones of sheep and goats, numbered, and used for gaming, being tossed up in the air and caught on the back of the hand. Two persons played together at this game, using four bones, which they threw up into the air or emptied out of a dice-box (fritillus), observing the numbers of the opposite sides. The numbers on the four sides of the four bones admitted of thirty-five different combinations. The lowest throw of all was four aces; but the value of the throw was not in all cases the sum of the four numbers turned up. The highest in value was that called Venus, in which the numbers cast up were all different; the sum of them being only fourteen. It was by obtaining this throw, hence called basilicus, that 'the King of the Feast' was appointed by the Romans. Certain other throws were called by particular names, taken from the gods, heroes, kings, courtesans, animals; altogether there were sixty-four such names. Thus, the throw consisting of two aces and two treys, making eight, was denominated Stesichorus. When the object was simply to throw the highest number, the game was called pleistobolinda, a Greek word of that meaning. When a person threw the tali, he often invoked either a god or his mistress.
Dice were also made of ivory, bone, or some close-grained wood, especially privet ligustris tesseris utilissima, (Plin. H. N.). They were numbered as at present.
Arsacides, King of the Parthians, presented Demetrius Nicator, among other presents, with golden dice—it is said, in contempt for his frivolous propensity to play—in exprobationem puerilis levitatis.'(58)
(58) Justini Hist., lib. xxxviii. 9. 9.
Dice are also mentioned in the New Testament, where occurs the word cubeia (Eph. iv. 14), ('the only word for "gambling" used in the Bible'), a word in very common use, among Paul's kith and kin, for 'cube,' 'dice,' 'dicery,' and it occurs frequently in the Talmud and Midrash. The Mishna declares unfit either as 'judge or witness,' 'a cubea-player, a usurer, a pigeon-flier (betting-man), a vendor of illegal (seventh-year) produce, and a slave.' A mitigating clause—proposed by one of the weightiest legal authorities, to the effect that the gambler and his kin should only be disqualified 'if they have but that one profession'—is distinctly negatived by the majority, and the rule remains absolute. The classical word for the gambler or dice-player, cubeutes, appears aramaized in the same sources into something like kubiustis, as the following curious instances may show: When the Angel, after having wrestled with Jacob all night, asks him to let him go, 'for the dawn has risen' (A. V., 'the day breaketh'), Jacob is made to reply to him, 'Art thou, then, a thief or a kubiustis, that thou art afraid of the day?' To which the Angel replies, 'No, I am not; but it is my turn to-day, and for the first time, to sing the Angelic Hymn of Praise in Heaven: let me go.' In another Tadmudical passage an early biblical critic is discussing certain arithmetical difficulties in the Pentateuch. Thus he finds the number of Levites (in Numbers) to differ, when summed up from the single items, from that given in the total. Worse than that, he finds that all the gold and silver contributed to the sanctuary is not accounted for, and, clinching his argument, he cries, 'Is, then, your master Moses a thief or a kubiustis? Or could he not make up his accounts properly?' The critic is then informed of a certain difference between 'sacred' and other coins; and he further gets a lesson in the matter of Levites and Firstborn, which silences him. Again, the Talmud decides that, if a man have bought a slave who turns out to be a thief or a kubiustis,—which has here been erroneously explained to mean a 'manstealer,'—he has no redress. He must keep him, as he bought him, or send him away; for he has bought him with all his vices.
Regarding the translation 'sleight' in the A.V., this seems a correct enough rendering of the term as far as the SENSE of the passage goes, and comes very near the many ancient translations—'nequitia,' 'versutia,' 'inanis labor,' 'vana et inepta (?) subtilitas,' &c., of the Fathers. Luther has 'Schalkheit,'—a word the meaning of which at his time differed considerably from our acceptation of the term. The Thesaurus takes Paul's cubeia (s.v.) more literally, to mean 'in alea hominum, i. e., in certis illis casibus quibus jactantur homines.'(59)
(59) E. Deutseh in the Athenaeum of Sept. 28, 1867.
The ancient tali, marked and thrown as above described, were also used in DIVINATION, just as dice are at the present day; and doubtless the interpretations were the same among the ancients—for all superstitions are handed down from generation to generation with wondrous fidelity. The procedure is curious enough, termed 'the art of telling fortunes by dice.'
Three dice are taken and well shaken in the box with the left hand, and then cast out on a board or table on which a circle is previously drawn with chalk; and the following are the supposed predictions of the throws:—
Three, a pleasing surprise; four, a disagreeable one; five, a stranger who will prove a friend; six, loss of property; seven, undeserved scandal; eight, merited reproach; nine, a wedding; ten, a christening, at which some important event will occur; eleven, a death that concerns you; twelve, a letter speedily; thirteen, tears and sighs; fourteen, beware that you are not drawn into some trouble or plot by a secret enemy; fifteen, immediate prosperity and happiness; sixteen, a pleasant journey; seventeen, you will either be on the water, or have dealings with those belonging to it, to your advantage; eighteen, a great profit, rise in life, or some desirable good will happen almost immediately, for the answers to the dice are said to be fulfilled within nine days. To throw the same number twice at one trial shows news from abroad, be the number what it may. If the dice roll over the circle, the number thrown goes for nothing, but the occurrence shows sharp words impending; and if they fall on the floor it is blows. In throwing the dice if one remain on the top of the other, 'it is a present of which you must take care,' namely, 'a little stranger' at hand.
Two singular facts throw light on the kind of dice used some 100 and 150 years ago. In an old cribbage card-box, curiously ornamented, supposed to have been made by an amateur in the reign of Queen Anne, and now in my possession, I found a die with one end fashioned to a point, evidently for the purpose of spinning—similar to the modern teetotum. With the same lot at the sale where it was bought, was a pack of cards made of ivory, about an inch and a half in length and one inch in width—in other respects exactly like the cards of the period.
Again, it is stated that in taking up the floors of the Middle Temple Hall, about the year 1764, nearly 100 pairs of dice were found, which had dropped, on different occasions, through the chinks or joints of the boards. They were very small, at least one-third less that those now in use. Certainly the benchers of those times did not keep the floor of their magnificent hall in a very decent condition.
A curious fact relating to dice may here be pointed out. Each of the six sides of a die is so dotted or numbered that the top and bottom of every die (taken together) make 7; for if the top or uppermost side is 5, the bottom or opposite side will be 2; and the same holds through every face; therefore, let the number of dice be what it may, their top and bottom faces, added together, must be equal to the number of dice multiplied by 7. In throwing three dice, if 2, 3, and 4 are thrown, making 9, their corresponding bottom faces will be 5, 4, and 3, making 12, which together are 21—equal to the three dice multiplied by 7.
CARDS.
The origin of cards is as doubtful as that of dice. All that we know for certain is that they were first used in the East. Some think that the figures at first used on them were of moral import: the Hindoo and Chinese cards are certainly emblematic in a very high degree; the former illustrate the ten avatars, or incarnations of the deity Vishnu; and the so-called 'paper-tickets' of the Chinese typify the stars, the human virtues, and, indeed, every variety of subject. Sir William Jones was convinced that the Hindoo game of Chaturaji—that is, 'the Four Rajahs or Kings'—a species of highly-complicated chess—was the first germ of that parti-coloured pasteboard, which has been the ruin of so many modern fortunes. A pack of Hindoostani cards, in the possession of the Royal Asiatic Society, and presented to Captain Cromline Smith in 1815, by a high caste Brahman, was declared by the donor to be actually 1000 years old: 'Nor,' said the Brahman, 'can any of us now play at them, for they are not like our modern cards at all.' Neither, indeed, do they bear any remarkable resemblance to our own—the pack consisting of no less than eight sorts of divers colours, the kings being mounted upon elephants, and viziers, or second honours, upon horses, tigers, and bulls. Moreover, there are other marks distinguishing the respective value of the common cards, which would puzzle our club-quidnuncs not a little—such as 'a pine-apple in a shallow cup,' and a something like a parasol without a handle, and with two broken ribs sticking through the top. The Chinese cards have the advantage over those of Hindoostan by being oblong instead of circular.
It was not before the end of the 14th century that cards became known in Europe; and it is a curious fact that the French clergy took greatly to card-playing about that time—their favourite game being the rather ungenteel 'All Fours,' as now reputed; for they were specially forbidden that pastime by the Synod of Langres in 1404.
The ancient cards of both Spain and France, particularly the 'court-cards,' exhibit strong marks of the age of chivalry; but here we may observe that the word is written by some ancient writers, 'coate-cards,' evidently signifying no more than figures in particular dresses. The giving pre-eminence or victory to a certain suit, by the name of 'trump,' which is only a corruption of the word 'triumph,' is a strong trait of the martial ideas of the inventors of these games. So that, if the Chinese started the idea, it seems clear that the French and Spanish improved upon it and gave it a plain significance; and there is no reason to doubt that cards were actually employed to amuse Charles VI. in his melancholy and dejection.
The four suits of cards are supposed to represent the four estates of a kingdom:—1. The nobility and gentry; 2. The ecclesiastics or priesthood; 3. The citizens or commercial men; 4. The peasantry or Husbandmen. The nobility are represented in the old Spanish cards by the espada, or sword, corrupted by us into 'spades,'—by the French with piques, 'pikes or spears.' The ecclesiastical order is pointed out by copas, or sacramental cups, which are painted in one of the suits of old Spanish cards, and by coeurs, or 'hearts,' on French cards, as in our own—thereby signifying choir-men, gens de choeur, or ecclesiastics—from choeur de l'eglise, 'the choir of the church,' that being esteemed the most important part or the HEART of the church.
The Spaniards depicted their citizens or commercial men under dineros, a small coin, an emblem very well adapted to the productive classes; the French by carreaux, squares or lozenges—importing, perhaps, unity of interest, equality of condition, regularity of manners, and the indispensable duty of this class of men to deal with one another 'on the square.' The Spaniards made bastos, or knotty clubs, the emblem of the 'bold peasantry,' taken probably from the custom that the plebeians were permitted to challenge or fight each other with sticks and quarter-staves only, but not with the sword, or any arms carried by a gentleman; while the French peasantry were pointed out under the ideas of husbandry, namely, by the trefles, trefoil or clover-grass. So much for the SUITS.
With regard to the depicted figures of cards, each nation likewise followed its own inventions, though grounded in both on those ideas of chivalry which then strongly prevailed. The Spanish cards were made to carry the insignia and accoutrements of the King of Spain, the ace of deneros being emblazoned with the royal arms, supported by an eagle. The French ornamented their cards with fleurs de lis, their royal emblem. The Spanish kings, in conformity to the martial spirit of the times when cards were introduced, were all mounted on horseback, as befitted generals and commanders-in-chief; but their next in command (among the cards) was el caballo, the knight-errant on horseback—for the old Spanish cards had no queens; and the third in order was the soto, or attendant, that is, the esquire, or armour-bearer of the knight—all which was exactly conformable to those ideas of chivalry which ruled the age. It is said that David (king of spades), tormented by a rebellious son, is the emblem of Charles VII., menaced by his son (Louis XI.), and that Argine (queen of clubs) is the anagram of Regina, and the emblem of Marie d'Anjou, the wife of that prince; that Pallas (queen of spades) represents Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans; that Rachel (queen of diamonds) is Agnes Sorel; lastly, that Judith (queen of hearts) is the Queen Isabeau. The French call the queens at cards dames.
The four knaves (called in French, valets or varlets) are four valiant captains—Ogier and Lancelot, the companions of Charlemagne, Hector de Gallard, and Lahire, the generals of Charles VII. The remainder of the pack equally presents a sort of martial allegory; the heart is bravery; the spade (espad, 'sword') and the diamond (carreau, that is, a square or shield) are the arms of war; the club (in French trefle, 'trefoil') is the emblem of provisions; and the ace (in French as, from the Latin aes, 'coin') is the emblem of money—the sinews of war.
In accordance with this allegorical meaning, the function of the ace is most significant. It leads captive every other card, queen and king included—thus indicating the omnipotence of gold or mammon!
'To the mighty god of this nether world—To the spirit that roams with banner unfurl'd O'er the Earth and the rolling Sea—And hath conquer'd all to his thraldom Where his eye hath glanced or his footstep sped—Who hath power alike o'er the living and dead—Mammon!(59) I sing to thee!
(59) Steinmetz Ode to Mammon.
Some say that the four kings represent those famous champions of antiquity—David, Alexander, Julius Caesar, and Charlemagne; and that the four queens, Argine, Pallas, Esther, and Judith, are the respective symbols of majesty, wisdom, piety, and fortitude; and there can be no doubt, if you look attentively on the queens of a pack of cards, you will easily discern the appropriate expressions of all these attributes in the faces of the grotesque ladies therein depicted. The valets, or attendants, whom we call knaves, are not necessarily 'rascals,' but simply servants royal; at first they were knights, as appears from the names of some of the famous French knights being formerly painted on the cards.
Thus a pack of cards is truly a monument of the olden time—the days of chivalry and its numberless associations.
In addition to the details I have given in the previous chapter respecting the probability of holding certain cards, there are a few other curious facts concerning them, which it may be interesting to know.
There is a difference in the eyes of two of the knaves—those of diamonds and hearts, more apparent in the old patterns, suggesting the inference that they are blind. This has been made the basis of a card trick, as to which two of the four knaves presenting themselves would be selected as servants. Of course the blind ones would be rejected. A bet is sometimes proposed to the unwary, at Whist, but one of the party will have in his hand, after the deal, only one of a suit, or none of a suit. The bet should not be taken, as this result very frequently happens.
Lastly, there is an arithmetical puzzle of the most startling effect to be contrived with a pack of cards, as follows. Let a party make up parcels of cards, beginning with a number of pips on any card, and then counting up to twelve with individual cards. In the first part of the trick it must be understood that the court cards count as ten, all others according to the pips. Thus, a king put down will require only two cards to make up 12, whereas the ace will require 11, and so on. Now, when all the parcels are completed, the performer of the trick requires to know only the number of parcels thus made, and the remainder, if any, to declare after a momentary calculation, the exact number of pips on the first cards laid down—to the astonishment of those not in the secret. In fact, there is no possible arrangement of the cards, according to this method, which can prevent an adept from declaring the number of pips required, after being informed of the number of parcels, and the remainder, if any. This startling performance will be explained in a subsequent chapter—amusing card tricks.
Cards must soon have made their way among our countrymen, from the great intercourse that subsisted between England and France about the time of the first introduction of cards into the latter kingdom. If the din of arms in the reign of our fifth Henry should seem unfavourable to the imitation of an enemy's private diversions, it must be remembered that France was at that period under the dominion of England, that the English lived much in that country, and consequently joined in the amusements of the private hour, as well as in the public dangers of the field.
Very soon, however, the evil consequences of their introduction became apparent. One would have thought that in such a tumultuous reign at home as that of our sixth Henry, there could not have been so much use made of cards as to have rendered them an object of public apprehension and governmental solicitude; but a record appears in the beginning of the reign of Edward IV., after the deposition of the unfortunate Henry, by which playing cards, as well as dice, tennis-balls, and chessmen, were forbidden to be imported.
If this tended to check their use for a time, the subsequent Spanish connection with the court of England renewed an acquaintance with cards and a love for them. The marriage of Prince Arthur with the Infanta Catherine of Arragon, brought on an intimacy between the two nations, which probably increased card-playing in England,—it being a diversion to which the Spaniards were extremely addicted at that period.
Cards were certainly much in use, and all ideas concerning them very familiar to the minds of the English, during the reign of Henry VIII., as may be inferred from a remarkable sermon of the good bishop Latimer. This sermon was preached in St Edward's church, Cambridge, on the Sunday before Christmas day, 1527, and in this discourse he may be said to have 'dealt' out an exposition of the precepts of Christianity according to the terms of card-playing. 'Now ye have heard what is meant by this "first card," and how you ought to "play" with it, I purpose again to "deal" unto you "another card almost of the same suit," for they be of so nigh affinity that one cannot be well "played" without the other, &c.' 'It seems,' says Fuller, 'that he suited his sermon rather to the TIME—being about Christmas, when cards were much used—than to the text, which was the Baptist's question to our Lord—"Who art thou?"—taking thereby occasion to conform his discourse to the "playing at cards," making the "heart triumph."'
This blunt preaching was in those days admirably effectual, but it would be considered ridiculous in ours—except from the lips of such original geniuses as Mr Spurgeon, who hit upon this vein and made a fortune of souls as well as money. He is, however, inimitable, and any attempt at entering into his domain would probably have the same result as that which attended an imitation of Latimer by a country minister, mentioned by Fuller. 'I remember,' he says, 'in my time (about the middle of the seventeenth century), a country minister preached at St Mary's, from Rom. xii. 3,—"As God has DEALT to every man the measure of faith." In a fond imitation of Latimer's sermon he followed up the metaphor of DEALING,—that men should PLAY ABOVE-BOARD, that is, avoid all dissembling,—should not POCKET CARDS, but improve their gifts and graces,—should FOLLOW SUIT, that is, wear the surplice, &c.,—all which produced nothing but laughter in the audience. Thus the same actions by several persons at several times are made not the same actions, yea, differenced from commendable discretion to ridiculous absurdity. And thus he will make but bad music who hath the instruments and fiddlesticks, but none of the "resin" of Latimer.'
The habit of card-playing must have been much confirmed and extended by the marriage of Philip of Spain with our Queen Mary, whose numerous and splendid retinue could not but bring with them that passionate love of cards which prevailed in the Spanish court.
It seems also probable that the cards then used (whatever they might have been before) were of Spanish form and figure, in compliment to the imperious Philip; since even to this day the names of two Spanish suits are retained on English cards, though without any reference to their present figure. Thus, we call one suit spades, from the Spanish espada, 'sword,' although we retain no similitude of the sword in the figure,—and another clubs, in Spanish, bastos, but without regard to the figure also.
Old Roger Ascham, the tutor of Queen Elizabeth, gives us a picture of the gambling arts of his day, as follows:—How will they use these shiftes when they get a plaine man that cannot skill of them! How they will go about, if they perceive an honest man have moneye, which list not playe, to provoke him to playe! They will seek his companye; they will let him pay noughte, yea, and as I hearde a man once saye that he did, they will send for him to some house, and spend perchaunce a crowne on him, and, at last, will one begin to saye: "at, my masters, what shall we do? Shall every man playe his twelve-pence while an apple roste in the fire, and then we will drincke and departe?" "Naye" will another saye (as false as he), "you cannot leave when you begin, and therefore I will not playe: but if you will gage, that every man as he hath lost his twelve-pence, shall sit downe, I am contente, for surelye I would Winne no manne's moneye here, but even as much as woulde pay for my supper." Then speaketh the thirde to the honeste man that thought not to play:—"What? Will you play your twelve-pence?" If he excuse him—"Tush! man!" will the other saye, "sticke not in honeste company for twelve-pence; I will beare your halfe, and here is my moneye." Nowe all this is to make him to beginne, for they knowe if he be once in, and be a loser, that he will not sticke at his twelve-pence, but hopeth ever to get it againe, whiles perhappes he will lose all. Then every one of them setteth his shiftes abroache, some with false dyse, some with settling of dyse, some with having outlandish silver coynes guilded, to put awaye at a time for good golde. Then, if there come a thing in controversye, must you be judged by the table, and then farewell the honeste man's parte, for he is borne downe on every syde.'
It is evident from this graphic description of the process, that the villany of sharpers has been ever the same; for old Roger's account of the matter in his day exactly tallies with daily experience at the present time.
The love of card-playing was continued through the reign of Elizabeth and James I.,(60) and in the reign of the latter it had reached so high a pitch that the audiences used to amuse themselves with cards at the play-house, while they were waiting for the beginning of the play. The same practice existed at Florence. If the thing be not done at the present day, something analogous prevails in our railway carriages throughout the kingdom. It is said that professed card-sharpers take season-tickets on all the lines, and that a great DEAL of money is made by the gentry by duping unwary travellers into a game or by betting.