THIMBLE-RIG.
PIQUET
Piquet is said to have derived its name from that of its inventor, who
contrived it to amuse Charles VI. of France. The game was played with
thirty two cards, that is, discarding out of the pack all the deuces,
treys, fours, fives, and sixes. Regular piquet-packs were sold. In
reckoning up the points, every card counted for its value, as ten for
ten, nine for nine, and so on down to seven, which was, of course, the
lowest; but the ace reckoned for eleven. All court cards reckoned for
ten. As in other games, the ace won the king, the king the queen, and so
on, to the knave, which won the ten. The cards were dealt at option
by fours, threes, or twos, to the number of twelve, which was the
hand--'discarding' being allowed; but both the dealer and he that led
were OBLIGED to discard at least one card, let their game be ever so
good. When the cards were played out, each counted his tricks; and he
that had most reckoned 10 for winning the cards; if the tricks were
equal, neither reckoned at all. He who, without playing (that is,
according to the various terms of the game), could reckon up 30 in
hand, when his antagonist reckoned nothing, scored 90 for them; this was
called a repic; and all above 30 counted so many,--32 counting 92, and
so on. He who could make up 30, part in hand and part by play, before
the other made anything, scored 60; this was called a pic.
The game was also played as pool precisely according to the rules
briefly sketched as above, the penalty for losing being a guinea to the
pool.
Piquet required much practice to play it well. It became so great a
favourite that, by the middle of the 18th century, the meanest people
were well acquainted with it, and 'let into all the tricks and secrets
of it, in order to render them complete sharpers.' Such are the words
of an old author, who adds that the game was liable to great imposition,
and he explains the methods in use. Short cards were used for cutting,
as in Whist, at the time. Of these cards there were two sorts, one
longer than the rest; and the advantage gained by them was as the
adversary managed it, by cutting the longer or broader, as best suited
his purpose, or imposing on the dealer, when it was his turn, to cut
those which made most against him. The aces, kings, queens, and knaves
were marked with dots at the corners, and in the very old book from
which I am quoting precise directions are given how this marking can be
effected in such a manner 'as not to be discovered by your ADVERSARY,
and at the same time appear plain to YOURSELF.' With a fine pointed pen
and some clear spring water, players made dots upon the glazed card at
the corners according to the above method; or they coloured the water
with india ink, to make the marks more conspicuous. The work concludes
as follows:--'There are but 32 cards made use of at Piquet, so that
just half of them will be known to you; and in dealing you may have
an opportunity to give yourself those you LIKE best; and if you cannot
conveniently CHANGE the PACK according to your desire, you will commonly
KNOW what YOU are to TAKE IN, which is a demonstrative advantage to win
any one's money.'
Evidently they did not 'assume a virtue' in those days, 'if they had it
not.'
BASSET.
The game of Basset (in French Wassette) was considered one of the most
polite games with cards, and only fit for persons of the highest rank
to play at, on account of the great losses or gains that might accrue on
one side or the other.
The sums of money lost in France at this game were so considerable that
the princes of the blood were in danger of being undone; and after many
persons of distinction were ruined the court of France thought fit to
forbid Basset. Then Faro was invented; and both were soon introduced
into England, and after three or four years' play here, they
impoverished so many families, that Parliament enacted a suppression
of both games, with severe penalties. The two games are, therefore, of
historical interest, and deserve an explanation.
Basset was a sort of lottery. The dealer who kept the bank at Basset,
having the sole disposal of the first and last card, and other
considerable privileges in dealing the cards, had a much greater
prospect of gaining than those who played. This was a truth so
acknowledged in France that the king, by public edict, ordered that the
privilege of a talliere, or banker at Basset, should only be allowed to
the 'chief cadets,' or sons of noblemen--supposing that whoever kept the
bank must, in a very short time, acquire a considerable fortune.
In this game there was: 1. The Talliere, the banker, who laid down a
sum of money to answer every winning card which might turn up. 2. The
Croupiere, the assistant of the former, standing by to supervise the
losing cards,--so that when there were many at play he might not lose by
overlooking anything which might turn up to his profit. 3. The Punter,
or every player. 4. The Fasse, that is, the first card turned up by the
talliere, by which he gained half the value of the money laid upon every
card of THAT SORT by the punters or players. 5. The Couch, which was the
first stake that every punter laid upon each card--every player having
a book of 13 cards before him, upon which he must lay his money, more
or less, according to his fancy. 6. The Paroli: in this, whoever won the
couch, and intended to go on for another advantage, crooked the corner
of his card, letting his money lie, without being paid the value by the
talliere. 7. The Masse, which was, when those who had won the couch,
would venture more money on the SAME card. 8. The Pay, which was when
the player had won the couch, and, being doubtful of making the paroli,
left off; for by going the pay, if the card turned up wrong, he lost
nothing, having won the couch before; but if by this adventure fortune
favoured him, he won double the money he had staked. 9. The Alpieu was
when the couch was won by turning up, or crooking, the corner of the
winning card. 10. The Sept-et-le-va was the first great chance that
showed the advantages of the game, namely, if the player had won the
couch, and then made a paroli by crooking the corner of his card, and
going on to a SECOND chance, if his winning card turned up again it
became a sept-et-le-va, which was seven times as much as he had laid
upon his card. 11. Quinze-et-le-va, was attending the player's humour,
who, perhaps, was resolved to follow his fancy, and still lay his money
upon the SAME card, which was done by crooking the third corner of his
card: if this card came up by the dealing of the talliere, it made him
win fifteen times as much money as he staked. 12. Trent-et-le-va was
marked by the lucky player by crooking the end of the fourth corner
of his card, which, coming up, made him win thirty-three times as much
money as he staked. 13. Soissante-et-le-va was the highest chance that
could happen in the game, for it paid sixty-seven times as much money as
was staked. It was seldom won except by some player who resolved to push
his good fortune to the utmost.
The players sat round a table, the talliere in the midst of them, with
the bank of gold before him, and the punters or players each having a
book of 13 cards, laying down one, two, three, or more, as they pleased,
with money upon them, as stakes; then the talliere took the pack in
his hand and turned them up--the bottom card appearing being called
the fasse; he then paid half the value of the stakes laid down by the
punters upon any card of THAT SORT.
After the fasse was turned up, and the talliere and croupiere had looked
round the cards on the table, and taken advantage of the money laid on
them, the former proceeded with his deal; and the next card appearing,
whether the king, queen, ace, or whatever it might be, won for the
player, the latter might receive it, or making paroli, as before said,
go on to sept-et-le-va. The card after that won for the talliere, who
took money from each player's card of that sort, and brought it into his
bank--obviously a prodigious advantage in the talliere over the players.
The talliere, if the winning card was a king, and the next after it
was a ten, said (showing the cards all round), 'King wins, ten loses,'
paying the money to such cards as are of the winning sort, and taking
the money from those who lost, added it to his bank. This done, he went
on with the deal, it might be after this fashion--'Ace wins, five loses;'
'Knave wins, seven loses;' and so on, every other card alternately
winning and losing, till all the pack was dealt but the last card.
The LAST card turned up was, by the rules of the game, for the advantage
of the talliere; although a player might have one of the same sort,
still it was allowed to him as one of the dues of his office, and he
paid nothing on it.
The bold player who was lucky and adventurous, and could push on his
couch with a considerable stake to sept-et-le-va, quinze-et-le-va,
trente-et-le-va, &c., must in a wonderful manner have multiplied his
couch, or first stake; but this was seldom done; and the loss of the
players, by the very nature of the game, invariably exceeded that of the
bank; in fact, this game was altogether in favour of the bank; and yet
it is evident that--in spite of this obvious conviction--the game
must have been one of the most tempting and fascinating that was ever
invented.
Our English adventurers made this game very different to what it was in
France, for there, by royal edict, the public at large were not allowed
to play at more than a franc or ten-penny bank,--and the losses or gains
could not bring desolation to a family; but in England our punters could
do as they liked--staking from one guinea to one hundred guineas and
more, upon a card, 'as was often seen at court,' says the old author,
my informant. When the couch was alpieued, parolied, to sept-et-le-va,
quinze-et-le-va, trente-et-le-va, &c., the punter's gains were
prodigious, miraculous; and if fortune befriended him so as to bring his
stake to soissante-et-le-va, he was very likely to break the bank,
by gaining a sum which no talliere could pay after such tremendous
multiplication. But this rarely happened. The general advantage was
with the bank--as must be quite evident from the explanation of the
game--besides the standing rule that no two cards of the same sort
turning up could win for the players; the second always won for the
bank. In addition to this there were other 'privileges' which operated
vastly in favour of the banker.
However, it was 'of so bewitching a nature,' says our old writer, 'by
reason of the several multiplications and advantages which it seemingly
offered to the unwary punter, that a great many like it so well that
they would play at small game rather than give out; and rather than
not play at all would punt at six-penny, three-penny, nay, a twopenny
bank,--so much did the hope of winning the quinze-et-le-va and the
trente-et-le-va intoxicate them.'
Of course there were frauds practised at Basset by the talliere, or
banker, in addition to his prescriptive advantages. The cards might be
dealt so as not to allow the punter any winning throughout the pack;
and it was in the power of the dealer to let the punter have as many
winnings as he thought convenient, and no more!
It is said that Basset was invented by a noble Venetian, who was
punished with exile for the contrivance. The game was prohibited by
Louis XIV., in 1691, and soon after fell into oblivion in France,
although flourishing in England. It was also called Barbacole and Hocca.
FARO, OR PHARAOH.
Although both Basset and Faro were forbidden in France, on severe
penalties, yet these games still continued in great vogue in England
during the 18th century, especially Faro; for the alleged reasons that
it was easy to learn, that it appeared to be very fair, and, lastly,
that it was a very quiet game. It was, however, the most dangerous game
for the destruction of families ever invented. The Faro bankers seem to
have employed some 'gentlemen' to give a very favourable report of the
game to the town, and so every one took it upon trust without further
inquiry. Faro was the daughter of Basset--both alike notorious frauds,
there being no one, except professed gamblers, who could be said to
understand the secrets of these games.
Faro was played with an entire pack of cards, and admitted of an
indeterminate number of players, termed 'punters,' and a 'banker.' Each
player laid his stake on one of the 52 cards. The banker held a similar
pack, from which he drew cards, one for himself, placed on the right,
and the other, called the carte anglaise, or English card, for the
players, placed on the left. The banker won all the money staked on the
card on the right, and had to pay double the sums staked on those on
the left. Certain advantages were reserved to the banker:--if he drew
a doublet, that is, two equal cards, he won half of the stakes upon the
card which equalled the doublet; if he drew for the players the last
card of the pack, he was exempt from doubling the stakes deposited on
that card.
Suppose a person to put down 20s. upon a card when only eight are in
hand; the last card was a cipher, so there were four places to lose, and
only three to win, the odds against being as 4 to 3. If 10 cards only
were in, then it was 5 to 4 against the player; in the former case it
was the seventh part of the money, whatever it was, L1 or L100; in the
latter case, a ninth. The odds from the beginning of the deal insensibly
stole upon the player at every pull, till from the first supposed 4 per
cent. it became about 15 per cent.
At the middle of the 18th century the expenses of a Faro bank, in all
its items of servants, rent, puffs, and other incidental charges of
candles, wine, arrack-punch, suppers, and safeguard money, &c., in
Covent Garden, amounted to L1000 per annum. Throughout this century Faro
was the favourite game. 'Our life here,' writes Gilly Williams to George
Selwyn in 1752, 'would not displease you, for we eat and drink well, and
the Earl of Coventry holds a Pharaoh-bank every night to us, which we
have plundered considerably.' Charles James Fox preferred Faro to any
other game.
HAZARD.
This game was properly so called; for it made a man or undid him in the
twinkling of an eye.
It is played with only two dice; 20 persons may be engaged, or as many
as will. The chief things in the game are the Main and the Chance. The
chance is the caster's and the main is the setter's.
There can be no main thrown above 9, nor under 5; so that 5, 6, 7, 8,
and 9 are all the mains which are flung at Hazard. Chances and nicks are
from 4 to 10. Thus 4 is a chance to 9, 5 to 8, 6 to 7, 7 to 6, 8 to 5,
and 9 and 10 a chance to 5, 6, 7, and 8; in short, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and
10 are chances to any main, if any of these 'nick' it not.
Nicks are either when the chance is the same with the main, as 5 and
5, 6 and 6, 7 and 7, and so on; or 6 and 12, 7 and 11, 8 and 12, where
observe, that 12 is out to 9, 7, and 5, and 11 is out to 9, 8, 6, and 5.
The better to illustrate the game we shall give an example. Let 7 be the
main named. The caster throws 5, and that is his chance; and so he has
5 to 7. If the caster throws his own chance he wins all the money set to
him by the setter; but if he throws 7, which is the main, he must pay as
much money as is on the table.
If, again, 7 be the main, and the caster throws 11, that is a nick, and
sweeps away all the money on the table; but if he throws a chance he
must wait which will come first.
The worst chances in the game are 4 to 10, and 7 is considered the best
and easiest main to be thrown. It might be thought that 6 and 8 should
admit of no difference in advantage to 7, but it is just the reverse,
although 6, 7, and 8 have eight equal chances.
For 6, or sice, we have quatre-duce, cinque-ace, and two treys; for 8,
we have sice-duce, cinque-trey, and two quatres; but the disadvantage is
in the doublets required--two treys, two quatres; therefore sice-duce
is easier thrown than two quatres, and so, consequently, cinque-ace or
quatre-duce sooner than two treys.
'I saw an old rook (gambler),' says the writer before quoted, 'take up
a young fellow in a tavern upon this very bet. The bargain was made
that the rook should have seven always, and the young gentleman six, and
throw continually. To play they went; the rook won the first day L10,
and the next day the like sum; and so for six days together, in all L60.
Notwithstanding the gentleman, I am confident, had fair dice, and threw
them always himself. And further to confirm what I alleged before, not
only this gamester, but many more have told me that they desired no
greater advantage than this bet of 7 to 6. But it is the opinion of most
that at the first throw the caster hath the worst of it.
'Hazard is certainly the most bewitching game that is played with dice;
for when a man begins to play, he knows not when to leave off; and
having once accustomed himself to it, he hardly ever after minds
anything else.'(66)
(66) The Compleat Gamester, by Richard Seymour, Esq. 1739.
As this game is of a somewhat complicated character, another account of
it, which appeared in the Pall Mall Gazette for Sept. 3, 1869, may not
be unacceptable.
'The players assemble round a circular table, a space being reserved for
the "groom-porter," who occupies a somewhat elevated position, and whose
duty it is to call the odds and see that the game is played correctly.
Whoever takes the box and dice places in the centre of the table as
much money as he wishes to risk, which is at once covered with an equal
amount either by some individual speculator, or by the contributions of
several. The player (technically called the "caster") then proceeds to
call a "main." There are five mains on the dice, namely, 5, 6, 7, 8,
and 9; of these he mentally selects that one which either chance or
superstition may suggest, calls it aloud, shakes the box, and delivers
the dice. If he throws the exact number he called, he "nicks" it and
wins; if he throws any other number (with a few exceptions, which will
be mentioned), he neither wins nor loses. The number, however, which he
thus throws becomes his "chance," and if he can succeed in repeating it
before he throws what was his main, he wins; if not, he loses. In other
words, having completely failed to throw his main in the first
instance, he should lose, but does not in consequence of the equitable
interference of his newly-made acquaintance, which constitutes itself
his chance. For example, suppose the caster "sets"--that is, places on
the table--a stake of L10, and it is covered by an equal amount, and he
then calls 7 as his main and throws 5; the groom-porter at once calls
aloud, "5 to 7"--that means, 5 is the number to win and 7 the number to
lose, and the player continues throwing until the event is determined
by the turning up of either the main or the chance. During this time,
however, a most important feature in the game comes into operation--the
laying and taking of the odds caused by the relative proportions of
the main and the chance. These, as has been said, are calculated with
mathematical nicety, are proclaimed by the groom-porter, and are never
varied. In the above instance, as the caster stands to win with 5 and to
lose with 7, the odds are declared to be 3 to 2 against him, inasmuch as
there are three ways of throwing 7, and only two of throwing 5. As soon
as the odds are declared, the caster may increase his stake by any sum
he wishes, and the other players may cover it by putting down (in this
instance) two-thirds of the amount, the masse, or entire sum, to await
the turning up of either main or chance. If a player "throws out" three
times in succession, the box passes to the next person on his left,
who at once takes up the play. He may, however, "throw in" without
interruption, and if he can do so some half-dozen times and back his
luck, the gains will be enormous.
'The choice of a main is quite optional: many prefer 7 because they may
make a coup at once by throwing that number or by throwing 11, which is
a "nick" to 7, but to 7 only. Shrewd players, however, prefer some other
main, with the view of having a more favourable chance to depend upon
of winning both stake and odds. For example, let us reverse what was
mentioned above, and suppose the caster to call 5 and throw 7; he then
will have 7 as his chance to win with odds of 3 to 2 IN HIS FAVOUR.
'Such is the game of English Hazard, at which large fortunes have
been won and lost. It is exceedingly simple, and at times can become
painfully interesting. Cheating is impossible, unless with loaded dice,
which have been used and detected by their splitting in two, but
never, perhaps, unless at some disreputable silver hell. The mode of
remunerating the owner of the rooms was a popular one. The loser never
paid, and the winner only when he succeeded in throwing three mains in
succession; and even then the "box fee," as it was called, was limited
to 5s.--a mere trifle from what he must have gained. In French Hazard a
bank is constituted at a board of green cloth, and the proceedings are
carried on in a more subdued and regular mode than is the case in the
rough-and-ready English game. Every stake that is "set" is covered by
the bank, so that the player runs no risk of losing a large amount,
when, if successful, he may win but a trifling one; but en revanche, the
scale of odds is so altered as to put the double zero of roulette
and the "aprez" of Rouge et Noir to the blush, and to operate most
predjudicially to the player. In no case is an equal rate of odds
between main and chance laid by the French "banquier," as is insisted
on by the English groomporter; while again "direct nicks" alone are
recognized by the former. Very extraordinary runs of luck have occurred
at Hazard, one player sometimes throwing five, seven, and even eleven
mains in a single hand. In such cases as these the peculiar feature in
the French game becomes valuable, the bank being prepared to pay all
winnings, while, generally speaking, a hand of six or seven mains at
English Hazard would exhaust all the funds of the players, and leave
the caster in the position of "setting the table" and finding the stakes
totally unnoticed or only partially covered.
'In addition to the fixed rules of English Hazard, there are several
regulations which require to be observed. The round table on which it is
played has a deeply bevelled edge, which is intended to prevent the dice
from landing on the floor, which would be no throw. Again, if either die
after having left the box should strike any object on the table (such
as a man's elbow or stick) except MONEY, it would be called no throw.
Again, each player has the privilege of "calling dice," even when the
dice are in transitu, which, if done, renders the throw void, and causes
another set to be handed to the caster by the groom-porter. Many a
lucky coup has become manque by some captious player exercising this
privilege, and many an angry rencontre has ensued between the officious
meddler and the disappointed caster, who finds that he has nicked his
main to no advantage. Sometimes one die remains in the box after the
other has been landed; then the caster may either throw it quickly, or
may tantalize those interested in the event by gently coaxing it from
the bow. If one die lands on the top of another, it is removed by the
groom-porter and declared a throw.
'Some thirty years ago English Hazard was a favourite game in Ireland,
and Dublin could boast of three or four hells doing a brisk trade. The
most frequented and longest established was called "The Coal Hole,"
being situated on the coal quay. Here, at any hour after midnight, a
motley company might be seen, each individual, however, well known to
the porter, who jealously scanned his features before drawing back the
noiseless bolts which secured the door. The professional gambler trying
to live by his winnings, the fashionable swell finishing his round
of excitement, the struggling tradesman hoping to avert impending
bankruptcy, the prize-fighter, and, more conspicuous than any, the
keen-eyed usurer with his roll of notes and sheaf of bill stamps, were
to be found there. Many strange scenes have occurred in this house, some
followed by tragic consequences too painful to relate, others ridiculous
and amusing. Here it was that an angry caster, having lost his last
sovereign and his temper, also placed his black hat in the centre of the
table, swore that it was white, and finding no one disposed to dispute
his accuracy, flung himself from the room, and enabled the next player
who had won so largely and smiled so good-humouredly to take the box
in turn. But fortune deserted him also, and left him penniless, when,
glaring savagely round the room, and striking the table violently, he
thundered forth the inquiry, "Where was the rascal who said his hat
was white?" It was here also (although the venue has been changed by
story-mongers) that a well-known frequenter of the house, a sporting
M.P., on one occasion dropped on the 'door or in the passage a bank-note
without discovering his loss till he had reached home. On the next
evening he returned to inquire for it in a forlorn-hope spirit, when the
following conversation took place between him and the porter:--
"M.P. I think, Simpson, I dropped a note here last night--did you see
it?
"Porter. Shure, then, mony a note was dropped here beside yours.
"M. P. Ah! but I mean out of my pocket. I did not lose it at play. It
was for L20, one of Ball's Bank, and very old."
'Hereupon the porter brought the senator into a corner, fumbled the note
out of his fob, and, placing it in his hands, whispered, "Shure, I know
it's yours, and here it is; but (looking cautiously round) wasn't it
lucky that none of the jintlemin found it?"
'Another establishment much patronized in those days was in Nassau
Street, where early in the evening unlimited Loo, never under "three and
three," sometimes "six and six," might be indulged in, while a little
later Roulette formed the attraction of an adjacent room, and still
later at night all flocked down-stairs to the hot supper and rattling
English Hazard. For one or two seasons St Stephen's Green lent one of
its lordly mansions, formerly the residence of a cruel and witty Lord
Chief Justice, to the votaries of fortune; here everything was done
in grand style, with gilded saloons, obsequious waiters, and champagne
suppers. All this has long since become matter of the past, and it would
now puzzle the keenest detective to find the trace even of a silver hell
in the Irish capital. No one will be hardy enough to defend the vice
of gambling, but some have argued, and not without truth, that if a man
will play it is far better for him to indulge the propensity at Hombourg
or Baden, where he cannot lose more money than he has with him, than
to do so in the cozy club-room of a private "salon," where indulgent
friends may tempt him to become bankrupt not only in fortune but in
reputation.'
Passing over other less important games, called Biribi, and Kraps
(played with dice), we come to Passe-Dix, which seems to demand some
notice.
PASSE-DIX.
This game, considered the most ancient of all games of chance, is said
to have actually been made use of by the executioners at the crucifixion
of our Saviour, when they 'parted his garments, casting lots,' Matt.
xxvii. 35.
It is played with three dice. There is always a banker, and the number
of players is unlimited. Each gamester holds the box by turns, and the
other players follow his chance; every time he throws a point UNDER ten
he, as well as the other players, loses the entire stakes, which go
to the banker. Every time he throws a point ABOVE ten (or PASSES
TEN--whence the name of the game), the banker must double the player's
stakes and the stakes of all those who have risked their money on the
same chance. When the game is played by many together, each gamester is
banker in his turn.
PUT.
This was and doubtless still is the special card-game of our London
sharpers. Many of these are men who have run through a fortune in the
early part of their lives, by associating with gamblers and sharpers,
set up for themselves, set honour and conscience at defiance, become
blacklegs, and are scouted out of even the gambler's company; and, as
a last resource, are obliged to resort to low pot-houses, robbing the
poorest and most ignorant of society.
Behind the dupe there stood a confederate sharper, looking over the
novice's hand, and telling his opponent, by his fingers, what cards he
holds--hence he was said to work the telegraph, of which more in the
sequel. Another confederate plied the novice with drink.
'The game of Put is played with an entire pack of cards, generally
by two, and sometimes by four persons. At this game the cards rank
differently from all others; a trey being the best, then a two, then
an ace, then the king, queen, &c. The game consists of five points.
The parties cut for deal, as in Whist. The deal is made by giving three
cards, one at a time, to each player. The non-dealer then examines his
cards, and if he thinks them bad, he is at liberty to PUT them upon the
pack, and his adversary scores one point to his game. This, however,
should never be done. Either party saying--"I put," that is, I play,
cannot retract, but must abide the event of the game, or pay the stakes.
'The THREE being the best card, if the sharper can make certain of
having a three every time his opponent deals, he must have considerably
the best of the game; and this is effected as follows:--the sharper
places a three underneath an old gentleman (a card somewhat larger and
thicker than the rest of the pack), and it does not signify how much
his opponent shuffles the pack, it is about five to one that he does not
disturb the OLD GENTLEMAN or the three. The sharper then cuts the cards,
which he does by feeling for the old gentleman; the three being then the
top card, it is dealt to the sharper by his opponent. That is one way of
securing a three, and this alone is quite sufficient to make a certainty
of winning.'(67)
(67) Doings in London.
CROSS AND PILE.
Cross and Pile, so called because anciently English coins were stamped
on one side with a cross, now bears the names, Head and Tail, and is
a pastime well known among the lowest and most vulgar classes of the
community, and to whom it is now confined; formerly, however, it held a
higher rank and was introduced at Court. Edward II. was partial to
this and other frivolous diversions, and spent much of his time in the
pursuit of them. In one of his wardrobe 'rolls,' or accounts, we find
the following entries--'Item, paid to Henry, the king's barber,
for money which he lent to the king to play at Cross and Pile, five
shillings. Item, paid to Pires Bernard, usher of the king's chamber,
money which he lent the king, and which he lost at Cross and Pile; to
Monsieur Robert Wartewille, eight-pence.'
A half-penny is now generally used in playing this game; but any other
coin with a head impressed will answer the purpose. One person tosses
the half-penny up and the other cries at pleasure HEAD or TAIL, and
loses according to the result.
Cross and Pile is evidently derived from the Greek pastime called Ostra
Kinda, played by the boys of ancient Greece. Having procured a shell,
they smeared it over with pitch on one side and left the other side
white. A boy tossed up this shell, and his antagonist called white or
black,(68) as he thought proper, and his success was determined by the
white or black part of the shell being uppermost.
(68) In the Greek, nux kai hmera, that is, 'night and day.'
It is the favourite game of the boys of London and the vicinity,
now, however, considerably, if not entirely, discontinued through the
vigilance of the police and the severity of the magistrates. Not long
ago, however, I witnessed a sad and striking scene of it at Twickenham.
It was on a Sunday morning. Several boys surrounded two players, one of
the latter being about 14 years of age, well dressed, and the other of
about 10 years, all in tatters and shoeless. The younger urchin had a
long run of good luck, whereat his antagonist exhibited much annoyance,
swearing intemperately. At length, however, his luck changed in turn,
and he went on winning until the former refused to play any longer,
saying--'There, you've got back all I won from you.' The bigger boy
became enraged at this refusal to continue the play, and seemed inclined
to resort to fisticuff, but I interposed and put a stop to the affray.
I then questioned the elder boy, and gathered from him that he played
as often as he could, sometimes winning or losing from eight to ten
shillings. 'And do you generally win? was my next question.' 'No, sir,'
he replied, 'I oftener lose.' I shuddered to conjecture what would be
the future of this boy. The word of warning I gave him was received with
a shrug of the shoulder, and he walked off with the greatest unconcern.
THIMBLE-RIG.
All races, fairs, and other such conglomerations of those whom Heaven
had blessed with more money than wit, used to be frequented by minor
members of 'The Fancy,' who are technically called flat-catchers, and
who picked up a very pretty living by a quick hand, a rattling tongue, a
deal board, three thimbles, and a pepper-corn. The game they played with
these three curious articles is a sort of Lilliputian game at cups and
balls; and the beauty of it lies in dexterously seeming to place the
pepper-corn under one particular thimble, getting a green to bet that it
was there, and then winning his money by showing that it is not. Every
operator at this game was attended by certain of his friends called
eggers and bonnetters--the eggers to 'egg' on the green ones to bet,
by betting themselves; and the bonnetters to 'bonnet' any green one who
might happen to win--that is to say, to knock his hat over his eyes,
whilst the operator and the others bolted with the stakes.
Some years ago a curious case was tried, exemplifying the mode of
procedure. A Frenchman, M. Panchaud, was at Ascot Races, and he there
saw the defendant and several other 'gentlemen' betting away,
and apparently winning 'lots of sovereigns,' at one of these same
thimble-rigs. 'Try your luck, gentlemen,' cried the operator; 'I'll bet
any gentleman anything, from half-a-crown to five sovereigns, that
he doesn't name the thimble as covers the corn!' M. Panchaud betted
half-a-crown--won it; betted a sovereign--won it; betted a second
sovereign--LOST it. 'Try your luck, gentlemen!' cried the operator
again, shifting his thimbles and pepper-corn about the board, here and
there and everywhere in a moment; and this done, he offered M. Panchaud
a bet of five sovereigns that he could not 'name the thimble what
covered the corn.' 'Bet him! Bet him! Why don't you bet him?' said
the defendant (a landlord), nudging M. Panchaud on the elbow; and M.
Panchaud, convinced in his 'own breast' that he knew the right thimble,
said--'I shall betta you five sovereign if you will not touch de timbles
again till I name.' 'Done!' cried the operator; and M. Panchaud was
DONE--for, laying down his L10 note, it was caught up by SOMEBODY, the
board was upset, the operator and his friends vanished 'like a flash of
lightning,' and M. Panchaud was left full of amazement, but with empty
pockets, with the defendant standing by his side. 'They are a set of
rascals!' said the defendant; 'but don't fret, my fine fellow! I'll take
you to somebody that shall soon get your money again; and so saying
he led him off in a direction thus described in court by the fleeced
Frenchman.--'You tooke me the WRONG way! The thieves ran one way, and
you took me the other, you know, ahah! You know what you are about--you
took me the WRONG WAY--ahah!'