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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 Pa.s.sES 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 a.s.sociating 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 cla.s.ses 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 s.h.i.+llings. 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 sh.e.l.l, they smeared it over with pitch on one side and left the other side white. A boy tossed up this sh.e.l.l, 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 sh.e.l.l 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 s.h.i.+llings. '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 b.a.l.l.s; 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, s.h.i.+fting 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!'
CHAPTER XI. c.o.c.k-FIGHTING.
c.o.c.k-fighting is a practice of high antiquity, like many other detestable and abominable things that still cling to our social fabric.
It was much in vogue in Greece and the adjacent isles. There was an annual festival at Athens called 'The c.o.c.k-fighting,' inst.i.tuted by Themistocles at the end of the Persian war, under the following circ.u.mstances. When Themistocles was leading his army against the Persians, he saw some c.o.c.ks fighting; he halted his troops, looked on, and said:--'These animals fight neither for the G.o.ds of their country, nor for the monuments of their ancestors, nor for glory, nor for freedom, nor for their children, but for the sake of victory, and in order that one may not yield to the other;' and from this topic he inspirited the Athenians. After his victorious return, as an act of grat.i.tude for this accidental occasion of inspiring his troops with courage, he inst.i.tuted the above festival, 'in order that what was an incitement to valour at that time might be perpetuated as an encouragement to the like bravery hereafter.' One cannot help smiling at these naive stories of the ancients to account for their mightiest results. Only think of any modern warrior halting his troops to make use of a c.o.c.k-fight for the purpose of inspiriting them to victory!
On one occasion during the Peninsular war, when an important point was to be carried by a.s.sault, the officers were required to say something encouraging to their men, in order to brace them up for the encounter; but whilst the majority of the former recalled the remembrance of previous victories, an Irish captain contented himself with exclaiming--'Now, my lads, you see those fellows up there. Well, if you don't kill THEM, SHURE they'll kill YOU. That's all!' Struck with the comic originality of this address, the men rushed forward with a laugh and a shout, carrying all before them.
Among the ancient Greeks the c.o.c.k was sacred to Apollo, Mercury, and aesculapius, on account of his vigilance, inferred from his early rising--the natural consequence of his 'early to bed'--and also to Mars, on account of his magnanimous and daring spirit.
It seems, then, that at first c.o.c.k-fighting was partly a religious, and partly a political, inst.i.tution at Athens; and was there continued--according to the above legend--for the purpose of cheris.h.i.+ng the seeds of valour in the minds of youth; but that it was afterwards abused and perverted, both there and in other parts of Greece, by being made a common pastime, and applied to the purpose of gambling just as it was (and is still secretly) practised in England. An Attic law ran as follows--'Let c.o.c.ks fight publicly in the theatre one day in the year.'(69)
(69) Pegge, in Archoeologia, quoting aelian, Columella, &c.
As to c.o.c.k-fighting at Rome, Pegge, in the same work, gives his opinion, that it was not customary there till very late; but that quails were more pitted against each other for gambling purposes than c.o.c.ks. This opinion seems confirmed by the thankfulness expressed by the good Antoninus--'that he had imbibed such dispositions from his preceptor, as had prevented him from breeding quails for the fight.'
'One cannot but regret,' wrote Pegge in 1775, 'that a creature so useful and so n.o.ble as the c.o.c.k should be so enormously abused by us. It is true the ma.s.sacre of Shrove Tuesday seems in a declining way, and in a few years, it is to be hoped, will be totally disused; but the c.o.c.k-pit still continues a reproach to the humanity of Englishmen. It is unknown to me when the pitched battle first entered England; but it was probably brought hither by the Romans. The bird was here before Caesar's arrival; but no notice of his fighting has occurred to me earlier than the time of William Fitz-Stephen, who wrote the Life of Archbishop Becket, some time in the reign of Henry II. William describes the c.o.c.king as the sport of school-boys on Shrove Tuesday. "Every year, on the day which is called Carnelevaria (Carnival)--to begin with the sports of the London boys,--for we have all been boys--all the boys are wont to carry to their schoolmaster their fighting-c.o.c.ks, and the whole of the forenoon is made a holiday for the boys to see the fights of their c.o.c.ks in their schoolrooms." The theatre, it seems, was their school, and the master was the controller and director of the sport. From this time at least the diversion, however absurd, and even impious, was continued among us.'
'Although disapproved of by many, and prohibited by law, c.o.c.k-fighting continued in vogue, patronized even by royalty, and commonly called "the royal diversion." St James's Park, which, in the time of Henry VIII., belonged to the Abbot of Westminster, was bought by that monarch and converted into a park, a tennis court, and a c.o.c.kpit, which was situated where Downing Street now is. The park was approached by two n.o.ble gates, and until the year 1708 the c.o.c.k-pit Gate, which opened into the court where Queen Anne lived, was standing. It was surmounted with lofty towers and battlements, and had a portcullis, and many rich decorations.
Westminster Gate, the other entrance, was designed by Hans Holbein, and some foreign architect doubtless erected the c.o.c.kpit Gate. The scene of the cruel diversion of c.o.c.k-fighting was, however, obliterated before Anne's time, and the palace, which was a large range of apartments and offices reaching to the river, extended over that s.p.a.ce.'(69)
(69) Wharton, Queens of Society.
c.o.c.k-fighting was the favourite amus.e.m.e.nt of James I., in whose reign there were c.o.c.k-pits in St James's Park, Drury Lane, Tufton Street, Shoe Lane, and Jermyn Street. There was a c.o.c.k-pit in Whitehall, erected for the more magnificent exhibition of the sport; and the present room in Westminster in which her Majesty's Privy Council hold their sittings, is called the c.o.c.k-pit, from its being the site of the veritable arena of old.
c.o.c.k-fighting was prohibited by one of Oliver's acts in 1654; but with the return of Charles and his profligacy, the sport again flourished in England. Pepys often alludes to it in his 'Diary.'
Thus, Dec. 21, 1663, he writes:--
'To Shoe Lane, to see a c.o.c.ke-fighting at a new pit there, a spot I was never at in my life; but, Lord! to see the strange variety of people, from Parliament man, by name Wildes, that was Deputy-Governor of the Tower when Robinson was Lord Mayor, to the poorest 'prentices, bakers, brewers, butchers, draymen, and what not; and all these fellows one with another cursing and betting. I soon had enough of it. It is strange to see how people of this poor rank, that look as if they had not bread to put in their mouths, shall bet three or four pounds at a time, and lose it, and yet bet as much the next battle; so that one of them will lose L10 or L20 at a meeting.'
Again, April 6, 1668:--
'I to the new c.o.c.ke-pit by the king's gate, and there saw the manner of it, and the mixed rabble of people that came thither, and saw two battles of c.o.c.kes, wherein is no great sport; but only to consider how these creatures, without any provocation, do fight and kill one another, and aim only at one another's heads!'
Up to the middle of the 18th century c.o.c.k-fighting was 'all the rage' in England. 'c.o.c.king,' says a writer of the time, 'is a sport or pastime so full of delight and pleasure, that I know not any game in that respect which is to be preferred before it.'
The training of the pugnacious bird had now become a sort of art, and this is as curious as anything about the old 'royal diversion.' A few extracts from a treatise on the subject may be interesting as leaves from the book of manners and customs of the good old times.
The most minute details are given as to the selection of fighting-c.o.c.ks, the breeding of game c.o.c.ks, and 'the dieting and ordering a c.o.c.k for battle.' Under this last head we read:--'In the morning take him out of the pen, and let him spar a while with another c.o.c.k. Sparring is after this manner. Cover each of your c.o.c.k's heels with a pair of hots made of bombasted rolls of leather, so covering the spurs that they cannot bruise or wound one another, and so setting them down on straw in a room, or green gra.s.s abroad; let them fight a good while, but by no means suffer them to draw blood of one another. The benefit that accrues hereby is this: it heateth and chafeth their bodies, and it breaketh the fat and glut that is within them. Having sparred as much as is sufficient, which you may know when you see them pant and grow weary, then take them up, and, taking off their hots, give them a diaph.o.r.etic or sweating, after this manner. You must put them in deep straw-baskets, made for this purpose, and fill these with straw half way, then put in your c.o.c.ks severally, and cover them over with straw to the top; then shut down the lids, and let them sweat; but don't forget to give them first some white sugar-candy, chopped rosemary, and b.u.t.ter, mingled and incorporated together. Let the quant.i.ty be about the bigness of a walnut; by so doing you will cleanse him of his grease, increase his strength, and prolong his breath. Towards four or five o'clock in the evening take them out of their stoves, and, having licked their eyes and head with your tongue, and put them into their pens, and having filled their throats with square-cut manchet, **** therein, and let them feed whilst the****is hot; for this will cause their scouring to work, and will wonderfully cleanse both head and body.'
Was ever poor animal subjected to such indignity? The preparation of the other animal, the jockey, is nothing to it. But, to continue:--
'The second day after his sparring, take your c.o.c.k into a fair green close, and, having a dunghill c.o.c.k in your arms, show it him, and then run from him, that thereby you may entice him to follow, permitting him to have now and then a blow, and thus chafe him up and down about half an hour; when he begins to pant, being well-heated, take him up and carry him home, and give him this scouring, &c.'
This training continued for six weeks, which was considered a sufficient time for 'ordering a c.o.c.k for the battle;' and then, after the 'matching,' came the last preparation of the poor biped for the terrible fight in which he would certainly be either killed or kill his antagonist, if both were not doomed to bite the dust. This consisted in the following disfigurement of the beautiful creature:--
'With a pair of fine c.o.c.k-shears cut all his mane off close into his neck from the head to the setting on of the shoulders: secondly, clip off all the feathers from the tail close to his rump; the redder it appears the better is the c.o.c.k in condition: thirdly, take his wings and spread them forth by the length of the first rising feather, and clip the rest slope-wise with sharp points, that in his rising he may therewith endanger the eye of his adversary; fourthly, sc.r.a.pe, smooth, and sharpen his spurs with a pen-knife; fifthly, and lastly, see that there be no feathers on the crown of his head for his adversary to take hold of; then, with your spittle moistening his head all over, turn him into the pit TO MOVE TO HIS FORTUNE.'
I should, perhaps, state that, instead of the natural spurs, long artificial ones of well-tempered steel were fixed to the c.o.c.k's heels in later times, and these were frequently driven into the body of his antagonist with such vigour that the two c.o.c.ks were spitted together, and had to be separated.
The dreadful fight having come off, the following was the treatment prescribed for the fortunate conqueror.
'The battle being ended, immediately search your c.o.c.k's wounds, as many as you can find. SUCK the blood out of them; then wash them well with warm ****, and that will keep them from rankling; after this give him a roll of your best SCOURING, and so stove him up as hot as you can for that night; in the morning, if you find his head swelled, you must suck his wounds again, and bathe them with warm ****; then take the powder of herb Robert, and put it into a fine bag, and pounce his wounds therewith; after this, give him a good handful of bread to eat out of warm ****, and so put him into the stove again, and let him not feel the air till the swelling be fallen.'