hours is still fresh in the memory of many. A thousand pounds to
five hundred was laid at the Ascot meeting of 1888 against such a
performance. Selby started from the White Horse Cellar, Piccadilly,
at 10 in the morning of July 13, and reached the Old Ship at Brighton
at 1.56. Immediately starting on the return journey, he arrived at the
White Horse Cellars at 5.50, and thus won the bet by ten minutes. In
the same year an extraordinary sporting feat was performed by a friend
of the writer, Mr. Charles Bulpett (thirty-seven years old at the
time), who took £500 to £200 that he would ride a mile, run a mile, and
walk a mile--three miles in all--within sixteen minutes and a half.
This he was successful in doing, the exact time occupied being sixteen
minutes and seven seconds. It should be added that the extraordinary
athletic powers displayed on this occasion were greatly enhanced by the
fact that Mr. Bulpett was suffering from a game leg.
The same gentleman also won another sporting match of an original kind.
Dining one evening at the Ship at Greenwich (formerly a great resort
and the scene of an annual ministerial fish dinner) with some friends,
the subject of swimming came under discussion, and in the course of
the conversation some one, pointing across the river, spoke of the
difficulty of swimming the Thames at this spot in ordinary clothes.
"I will," said Mr. Bulpett, "lay you £100 to £25 that I do it." The bet
was taken and the next day, according to the terms of the wager, Mr.
Bulpett entered the water at the Ship dressed in a frock coat, top hat,
with a cane in his hand. A boat with his friends in it followed his
progress. He reached the opposite shore with the greatest ease, though
he was carried a mile and a quarter down by the tide, and when he got
there offered to lay the same bet that he would then and there swim
back to the other shore, but there were no takers. Had the wager been
repeated, there is little doubt but that another £25 would have found
its way into the pockets of this redoubtable athlete.
A feat of a somewhat similar kind to Mr. Bulpett's was performed in
1891 by Mr. J.B. Radcliffe, who within the space of fifteen minutes
rowed, swam, ran, cycled, and rode a horse the distance of a quarter
of a mile, successfully covering the mile and a half in the appointed
time.
VIII
Gambling in Paris--Henry IV. and Sully--Cardinal Mazarin's
love of play--Louis XIV. attempts to suppress gaming--John
Law--Anecdotes--Institution of public tables in 1775--Biribi--Gambling
during the Revolution--Fouché--The tables of the Palais Royal--The
Galeries de Bois--Account of gaming-rooms--Passe-dix and
Craps--Frascati's and the Salon des Étrangers--Anecdotes--Public
gaming ended in Paris--Last evenings of play--Decadence of the Palais
Royal--Its restaurants--Gaming in Paris at the present day.
There has always been much gambling in Paris, and up to the middle of
the last century that city was the stronghold of public gaming, the
Goddess of Chance wielding absolute sway in the Palais Royal, where
licensed gaming-tables existed.
The toleration of public gaming in Paris dated as far back as the reign
of Henri IV. In 1617 there were forty-seven "Brelans" frequented by
any one who cared to play, each of which paid a daily tribute of one
pistole to the Lieutenant Civil, who held an office in a great measure
corresponding with that of the modern Prefect of Police. Henri IV.
himself was much addicted to gaming, and the celebrated Sully attempted
to reform him. The King in question having once lost an immense sum of
money at play, Sully let his royal master send to him for it several
times without taking any notice; at last, however, he brought it and
spread the coins before him upon a table. The King fixed his eyes
upon the vast sum--said to have been enough to have bought Amiens from
the Spaniards--and at last cried out to Sully, "I am corrected, I will
never again lose my money at gaming while I live."
The gaming-resorts of old Paris were filled with people whose
reputations for probity were generally a good deal more than doubtful.
In one of the best of these _tripots_ a gentleman, whose turn to hold
the hand had come, delayed the game by insisting on searching for a few
pieces of gold which he had dropped on the floor. The other players,
eager to pursue their game, remonstrated with him saying, "You know
we are all honest people here." "I know that," was the reply, "honest
people, one of whom gets hung every week when the law is in a mood to
do its duty."
Scandals of the most disgraceful kind were of constant occurrence,
and in consequence of the numerous quarrels relating to unpaid
wagers, Francis the First once proposed to create a special court of
jurisdiction to deal with such cases. A list of judges and officials
was even drawn up, but the scheme was never actually put into execution.
Whilst the ordinary folk flocked to more or less obscure gaming-houses,
the _noblesse_ in the seventeenth century were great patrons of the
tennis-court known as the "Tripot de la Sphère," in the Marais. A
considerable amount of etiquette prevailed, and not a few careers were
wrecked owing to the overbearing demeanour of some of the great nobles.
Cardinal Mazarin, however, introduced games of chance at the Court of
Louis XIV. in 1648, and having initiated the King and the Queen Regent
into the pleasures of the gaming-table, as an indirect consequence
caused the decadence of tennis, mail (pall mall), and billiards.
Games involving strength, skill, and exercise became neglected, and the
population somewhat demoralised.
Gaming spread from the Court to Paris, and from thence to provincial
towns, in many cases producing a very disastrous effect.
Louis the Fourteenth was fond of backgammon, at which one day he had
a doubtful throw. A dispute arose, and the surrounding courtiers all
remained silent. The Count de Gramont happened to come in at that
instant. "Decide the matter," said the King to him. "Sire," said the
Count, "your Majesty is in the wrong." "How," replied the King, "can
you thus decide without knowing the question?" "Because," said the
Count, "had the matter been doubtful, all these gentlemen present would
have given it for your Majesty."
Cardinal Mazarin himself was generally ready to bet about anything.
He was driving in the country one day with a certain Count, when the
latter proposed that they should wager on the number of sheep they
should pass in the fields on each side of the road, one taking the
right and the other the left side. The Cardinal was a heavy loser
over this, as, much to his surprise, both going and returning the side
selected by his companion simply swarmed with sheep, whilst very few
were to be seen on the other.
As a matter of fact, as he afterwards genially hinted, the Count
had taken measures not to lose his bet, but the Cardinal, who was
good-natured in such matters, bore him no ill-will.
Another great ecclesiastic who was equally good-humoured about losses
at play was the Cardinal d'Este, who, one day entertaining at dinner a
brother prince of the Church, the Cardinal de Medici, played with him
afterwards, and quite carelessly allowed the latter to win a stake of
some ten thousand crowns, because, as he told an onlooker, he did not
wish his guest to go away in a bad humour, or feel that he had been
made to pay for his dinner.
Hoca was a very popular game about this time. Certain Italians who had
come into France in the train of Cardinal Mazarin contrived to obtain
a concession from the King which enabled them to establish places
in which this game might be played, and as they took care always to
keep the bank themselves, they soon began to attract unfavourable
notice owing to the large sums which fell into their maw. The game
in question was prodigiously favourable to the bank, the players
having only twenty-eight chances against thirty. In consequence of the
public scandal which resulted, the Parliament of Paris stepped in and
threatened severe punishment against these men, whilst it was made
punishable by death to play hoca at all. Nevertheless, it continued to
be in high favour at the Court, where many were ruined by gambling.
In 1691, Louis XIV. determined to put a stop to the evil, and issued
an order that no one should engage at faro, basset, and other games
of chance on any consideration; every offender was to be fined 1000
livres, and the person at whose house any such game was played incurred
a penalty of 6000 livres for each offence. Gamblers were also to be
imprisoned for six months. The order in question, however, appears to
have effected nothing, for some years later the same prince published
a still severer edict, by which he forbade, on pain of death, any
gaming in the French cavalry, and sentenced every commanding officer or
governor who should presume to set up a hazard-table to be cashiered,
and all concerned to be immediately and rigorously imprisoned.
About the commencement of the Regency all Paris went mad over gaming;
many of the houses of the great nobles were virtually _tripots_,
special lights outside announcing this to passers-by. Horace Walpole
declared that at least a hundred and fifty people of the highest
quality lived on the play which took place in their houses, which any
one wishing to gamble could enter at all hours. At the mansion of the
Duc de Gevres persons desirous of taking the bank paid about twelve
guineas a night. Such proceedings were deemed to be no disgrace to the
nobles.
Soon the gambling fever assumed a far more dangerous form than cards
or dice, owing to the wild speculation brought into fashion by Law.
This man, who was born in 1688, was the son of a lawyer at Edinburgh.
Coming up to London he fell in love with the sister of a peer, who,
disapproving of such a marriage with an adventurer, challenged Law,
and fell in the duel. Law immediately escaped into Holland, and was
tried, convicted, and outlawed in England. Perhaps it was in Holland he
acquired that turn of mind which revels in immense calculations; anyhow
he became an adept in the mysteries of exchanges and re-exchanges. From
thence he proceeded to Venice and other cities, studying the nature of
their banks. In 1709 he was at Paris, avid as ever of speculation.
At the close of the reign of Louis XIV., the French finances were
in great disorder; and Law, having obtained an audience of that
monarch, had almost convinced the bankrupt king of the feasibility
of his speculative projects. He had offered to pay the national debt
by establishing a company, whose paper was to be received with all
possible confidence, and who were to make immense profits by their
commercial transactions. The minister, Desmarest, however, took alarm
and, to get rid of Law, threatened him, by one of his emissaries,
with the Bastille. Law quitted Paris, and became a wanderer through
Italy. He then addressed himself to the King of Sardinia, who refused
the adventurer's assistance, curtly declaring that he was not powerful
enough to ruin himself!
At the death of Louis XIV., the Duke of Orleans was Regent. Law saw his
chance and ventured again to Paris, where he found the Regent docile
enough. The latter, indeed, was placed in a most trying situation:
the finances were all confusion, and no one appeared competent to
settle them. At first the Regent listened somewhat reluctantly to Law,
doubtful as to what consequences must follow such colossal schemes as
those in which the adventurer dealt. Matters, however, going from bad
to worse, the numerical quack was called in to relieve, by his powerful
remedy, the disorder which no one else would even attempt to cure.
Law commenced with most brilliant prospects. He established his bank,
was chosen director of the East India Company, and soon gave his scheme
that vital credit which produced real specie. In that distracted time,
every one buried or otherwise concealed his valuables; but, when
the spells of Law began to operate, every coffer was opened, while
the proprietors of many estates seemed to prefer his paper to the
possession of their lands. All Europe appeared delighted; Law acquired
millions in a morning; whilst the Regent, thoroughly duped, felicitated
himself on his possession of so great an alchemist.
Law was honoured with nobility, and created Comte de Tankerville;
as for marquisates, he purchased them at his will. Edinburgh, his
native city, humbly presented him with her freedom, in which appears
these remarkable expressions:--"The Corporation of Edinburgh presents
its freedom to John Law, Count of Tankerville, etc., etc., etc., a
most accomplished gentleman; the first of all bankers in Europe; the
fortunate inventor of sources of commerce in all parts of the remote
world; and who has deserved so well of his nation." From a Scotchman
(says Voltaire) he became, by naturalisation, a Frenchman; from a
Protestant, a Catholic; from an adventurer, a Prince; and from a
banker, a minister of state.
Law's novel system of finance was perhaps most aptly defined by a
dissipated and spendthrift member of the French _noblesse_, the Marquis
de Cavillac, who, much to the Scotchman's disgust, bluntly accused him
of plagiarising from his own methods, which, as he added, consisted in
drawing and giving bills which would certainly never be met.
Meanwhile a veritable rage for speculation prevailed. Fortunes were
made in a month, and stock-jobbing was carried on even in the narrowest
alleys of Paris. Singular anecdotes are recorded of this time. A
coachman gave warning to his master, who begged at least that he would
provide him with another as good as himself. "Very well," was the
reply, "I have hired two this morning; take your choice, and I will
have the other." A footman set up his chariot; but, going to it, got up
behind, where from force of habit he remained till reminded by his own
servant of the mistake. An old beggar, who had a remarkable hunch on
his back, haunted the Rue Quincampoix, which was the crowded resort of
all stock-jobbers; here he acquired a good fortune by lending out his
hunch for five minutes at a time as a desk.
Law himself was adored; the proudest courtiers were humble reptiles
before this mighty man; dukes and duchesses patiently waited in his
ante-chamber; and Mrs. Law, a haughty beauty, when a duchess was
announced, exclaimed, "Still more duchesses! There is no animal so
tiresome as a duchess!"
The Court ladies never left Law alone. One morning, when he was
surrounded by a body of _grandes dames_, he was going to retire. They
inquired the reason, which was of such a kind as should have silenced
them; but on the contrary, they said, "Oh! if it is nothing but that,
let them bring here a _chaise percée_ for Mr. Law." When the young
king was at play, and the stakes were too high even for his Majesty,
he refused to cover them all; young Law (the son of the adventurer)
cried out, "If his Majesty will not cover, I will." The King's governor
frowned on the boy of millions, who, perceiving his error, threw
himself at the king's feet.
The infatuation ran through all classes, and even the French Academy
solicited for the honour of Law becoming their associate--this
Scotchman was the only speculator they ever admitted into their body.
The evil hour, however, at last arrived; the immense machine became
so complicated that even the head of Law began to turn with its rapid
revolutions. In 1719 he created credit; but in May 1720, uncounted
millions disappeared in air. Nothing was seen but paper and bankruptcy
everywhere. Law was considered as the sole origin of the public
misfortune, no one blaming his own credulity. The mob broke his
carriages, destroyed his houses, and tried to find the arithmetician
in order to tear him to pieces. He escaped from Paris in disguise,
and long wandered in Europe incognito. After some years, he found
a hiding-place in Venice, where he lived, poor, obscure, yet still
calculating. Montesquieu, who saw him there, said: "He is still the
same man; his mind ever busied in financial schemes; his head is full
of figures, of agios, and of banks. His fortune is very small, yet he
loves to game high." Indeed, of all his more than princely revenues, he
only saved, as a wreck, a large white diamond, which, when he had no
money, he used to pawn.
Voltaire saw his widow at Brussels. She was then as humiliated, as
miserable, and as obscure, as she had been triumphant and haughty at
Paris.
After the collapse of Law's schemes the stream of gaming returned to
its ordinary channels, and high play continued as formerly to be
the pastime of the _noblesse_, some of whom kept more or less public
gaming-tables.
Not, however, till 1775 were public gaming-tables, somewhat resembling
those still flourishing at Monaco, licensed in Paris. In that year
Sartines, the celebrated "Lieutenant of Police," began to authorise
regular "maisons de jeu," the profits of which were in principle
supposed to be devoted to the foundation of hospitals, but in reality
failed to reach their destined goal of philanthropy. The most popular
game played was called "la belle." Certain privileged ladies, it may be
added, were accorded permission to preside at the twelve gaming-tables
of Paris twice a week. The bankers gave these attractive sorceresses
six louis at each sitting, and paid all other expenses. A third day
in the seven was set aside for the benefit of the police, who, once
every week, ungallantly pocketed the six golden pieces of each of the
presiding goddesses, most of whom were battered baronesses and ruined
marchionesses, who had petitioned for the somewhat dubious honour of
presiding at these _tripots_. Amongst them were Madame de Thouvenère,
la Baronne de Gancière, and la Marquise de Sainte Doubeuville. The
ladies were generally represented by deputies of the fair sex, who
received a fair share of the wages of iniquity. The directors of
the gaming-houses in question were as a rule the valets of grand
seigneurs, the best known being a man called Gombaud, who acted as
cashier-general. The success of the authorised "houses" led to the
establishment of rival and clandestine _tripots_. The most celebrated
of these private pandemoniums, which were practically "Hells," were
kept by Madame de Selle, Rue Montmartre; la Comtesse Champeiron, Rue
de Cléry; and Madame de Fonteneille. Rue de l'Arsenal. It was at
the last-named place that Sartines, who often visited such places
as a private individual for his own pleasure, narrowly escaped the
blow of a poniard, on being recognised by a ruined gambler. A good
deal of crime and misery was declared to arise from the existence of
these gaming-houses, and at length, in 1781, after many suicides and
bankruptcies innumerable, they were temporarily prohibited. The main
cause, however, was that the brother of a favourite mistress of a
pet courtier, after ruining himself and robbing a friend in order to
obtain funds with which to play, had put an end to his existence, by
blowing out his brains, at a gaming-house kept by Madame de la Serre,
Place des Victoires. After this the demon of gaming took refuge at the
Court, where shady financiers and well-dressed scoundrels carried on
a very lucrative traffic almost under the nose of His Most Christian
Majesty. The privileged hôtels of the ambassadors, where the police had
no control, became also the _sanctum sanctorum_ of the vampires of that
period. In addition to this, after a short lapse of time, the original
Golgothas were re-licensed, the game called "biribi" displacing "la
belle," and becoming the popular road to ruin of the day.
Biribi is now probably quite obsolete. It was played upon a table which
contained seventy numbers, to which there were corresponding numbers
enclosed in a bag.
These the banker drew out one by one, the player whose money was on
the corresponding number on the table being paid a sum equivalent to
sixty-four times his stake. As at roulette, there were a great number
of other chances--_pair_ and _impair_, _noir_ and _rouge_, _du petit et
du grand côté_, _la bordure du tableau_, _les terminaisons_, and the
like.
There were nine columns of numbers, each of which contained eight,
with the exception of the middle column, which was the banker's; this
consisted of six numbers only, which were considered zeroes.
Unattractive as this game must appear to a more sophisticated
generation, biribi became a regular craze.
About this time another epidemic of domestic horrors and public
crimes caused the Hells to be denounced to Parliament, which cited
the redoubtable lieutenant of police, Sartines, to its bar, and after
a good deal of gesticulation and ultra-moral oratory--most of it
from those members of the Parliament who themselves kept privileged
receptacles of gaming--it was decided that the high court of peers
should be convoked, in order that they might deal severely with
those minor ruffians, who, in contravention of the laws, carried
on clandestine play. The patrician moralists shortly after issued
a decree, sanctioned by Royalty, that the bankers of unauthorised
gaming-houses should be liable to the _carcan_ (pillory), branding with
a hot iron, and the _fout_ (flogging).
After this the licensed Hells carried on their golden commerce in
full security, but not entirely without competition, in spite of the
aforesaid pains and penalties which were in several cases enforced. A
curious and characteristic consequence of such a state of affairs was
the use to which certain diplomatic representatives put their mansions,
making good, or rather bad, use of the immunity from interference which
their office of Envoy conferred. M. le Chevalier Zeno, the Venetian
Ambassador, turned his house into a regular casino, admitting any one
into it who would play. For those of the lowest degree a particular
room was reserved, known to its habitués as "l'enfer." Remonstrances
and representations from the authorities were powerless to effect
the cessation of what became a public scandal, the Venetian Embassy
continuing to be little but a gambling-hell, till the departure of the
Ambassador in question.
Three other Ministers also maintained establishments of a similar kind.
These were the Prussian Envoy, who resided in the Rue de Choiseul,
the Envoy of Hesse-Cassel, whose house was in the Rue Poissonnière,
and the Ambassador of Sweden, whose gambling establishment was on the
Place du Louvre, at a house bearing the inscription "Écuries de M.
l'Ambassadeur de Suède." The somewhat singular methods employed by the
enterprising Diplomats in question were very freely commented upon in a
report issued by the "Lieutenant de Police" in February 1781, nothing,
however, being done to check the scandal. On the contrary, certain
members of the _noblesse_, being struck with the pecuniary advantages
to be reaped from keeping a gaming-house, followed the example of
the Ambassadors, M. le Marquis and M. le Comte de Genlis presiding
over establishments of this kind in the Place Vendôme and in the Rue
Bergère. It became no uncommon thing for Chevaliers de St. Louis to
act as bankers or croupiers. Owing to the decoration they wore they
were not subject to the same jurisdiction as ordinary mortals, besides
which, many of them were excellent swordsmen. This naturally gave
them a great advantage in the case of any protest on the part of the
players against the methods employed by the bank, a circumstance which
eventually led to a royal prohibition of further gaming enterprises
being undertaken by Chevaliers of this Order.