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!'



CHAPTER XI. COCK-FIGHTING.

Cock-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 Cock-fighting,' instituted by Themistocles at the end of the Persian war, under the following circumstances. When Themistocles was leading his army against the Persians, he saw some cocks fighting; he halted his troops, looked on, and said:—'These animals fight neither for the gods 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 gratitude for this accidental occasion of inspiring his troops with courage, he instituted 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 cock-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 assault, 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 cock 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 cock-fighting was partly a religious, and partly a political, institution at Athens; and was there continued—according to the above legend—for the purpose of cherishing 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 cocks fight publicly in the theatre one day in the year.'(69)

(69) Pegge, in Archoeologia, quoting aelian, Columella, &c.

As to cock-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 cocks. 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 noble as the cock should be so enormously abused by us. It is true the massacre of Shrove Tuesday seems in a declining way, and in a few years, it is to be hoped, will be totally disused; but the cock-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 cocking 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-cocks, and the whole of the forenoon is made a holiday for the boys to see the fights of their cocks 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, cock-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 cockpit, which was situated where Downing Street now is. The park was approached by two noble gates, and until the year 1708 the Cock-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 Cockpit Gate. The scene of the cruel diversion of cock-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 space.'(69)

(69) Wharton, Queens of Society.

Cock-fighting was the favourite amusement of James I., in whose reign there were cock-pits in St James's Park, Drury Lane, Tufton Street, Shoe Lane, and Jermyn Street. There was a cock-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 Cock-pit, from its being the site of the veritable arena of old.

Cock-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 cocke-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 Cocke-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 cockes, 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 cock-fighting was 'all the rage' in England. 'Cocking,' 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-cocks, the breeding of game cocks, and 'the dieting and ordering a cock 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 cock. Sparring is after this manner. Cover each of your cock'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 grass 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 diaphoretic 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 cocks 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 butter, mingled and incorporated together. Let the quantity 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 cock into a fair green close, and, having a dunghill cock 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 cock 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 cock-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 cock 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, scrape, 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 cock's heels in later times, and these were frequently driven into the body of his antagonist with such vigour that the two cocks 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 cock'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.'

A cock sometimes took a long time to recover from his wounds—as, indeed, may be well supposed from the terrible 'punishment' which he necessarily received; and so our professor goes on to say:—'If after you have put out your wounded cock to their walks, and visiting them a month or two after, you find about their head any swollen bunches, hard and blackish at one end, you may then conclude that in such bunches there are unsound cores, which must be opened and crushed out with your thumbs; and after this, you must suck out the corruption, and filling the holes full of fresh butter, you need not doubt a cure.'

A poetical description of a cock-fight, by Dr R. Wild, written at the commencement of the last century, will give an idea of the 'diversion.'

'No sooner were the doubtful people set, The match made up, and all that would had bet, But straight the skilful judges of the play; Brought forth their sharp-heel'd warriors, and they Were both in linnen bags—as if 'twere meet, Before they died, to have their winding-sheet. Into the pit they're brought, and being there, Upon the stage, the Norfolk Chanticleer Looks stoutly at his ne'er before seen foe, And like a challenger began to crow, And clap his wings, as if he would display His warlike colours, which were black and grey.

'Meantime, the wary Wisbich walks and breathes His active body, and in fury wreathes His comely crest, and often with a sound, He whets his angry beak upon the ground. This done, they meet, not like that coward breed Of Aesop; these can better fight than feed: They scorn the dunghill; 'tis their only prize TO DIG FOR PEARLS WITHIN EACH OTHER'S EYES.

'They fought so nimbly that 'twas hard to know, E'en to the skill'd, whether they fought or no; If that the blood which dyed the fatal floor Had not borne witness of 't. Yet fought they more; As if each wound were but a spur to prick Their fury forward. Lightning's not more quick, Or red, than were their eyes: 'twas hard to know Whether 'twas blood or anger made them so. I'm sure they had been out had they not stood More safe by being fenced in with blood.

Thus they vied blows; but yet (alas!) at length, Altho' their courage was full tried, their strength And blood began to ebb.

Their wings, which lately at each blow they clapp'd (As if they did applaud themselves), now flapp'd. And having lost th' advantage of the heel, Drunk with each other's blood, they only reel. From either eyes such drops of blood did fall As if they wept them for their funeral. And yet they fain would fight; they came so near, Methought they meant into each other's ear TO WHISPER WOUNDS; and when they could not rise, They lay and look'd blows into each other's eyes.

But now the tragic part! After this fit, When Norfolk cock had got the best of it, And Wisbich lay a dying, so that none, Tho' sober, but might venture Seven to One; Contracting, like a dying taper, all His strength, intending with the blow to fall, He struggles up, and having taken wind, Ventures a blow, and strikes the other blind!

'And now poor Norfolk, having lost his eyes, Fights only guided by antipathies: With him, alas! the proverb holds not true— The blows his eyes ne'er saw his heart most rue. At length, by chance, he stumbled on his foe, Not having any power to strike a blow. He falls upon him with his wounded head, And makes his conqueror's wings his feather-bed; Where lying sick, his friends were very chary Of him, and fetch'd in haste a Pothecary; But all in vain! His body did so blister That 'twas incapable of any glyster; Wherefore, at length, opening his fainting bill, He call'd a scriv'ner and thus made his Will.

'IMPRIMIS—Let it never be forgot, My body freely I bequeath to th' pot, Decently to be boil'd. **** ITEM: Executors I will have none But he that on my side laid Seven to One; And, like a gentleman that he may live, To him, and to his heirs, my COMB I give, Together with my brains, that all may know That oftentimes his brains did use to crow. **** To him that 's dull I do my SPURS impart, And to the coward I bequeath my HEART. To ladies that are light, it is my will My FEATHERS shall be given; and for my BILL I'd give 't a tailor, but it is so short, That I'm afraid he'll rather curse me for 't: **** Lastly, because I feel my life decay, I yield and give to Wisbich COCK THE DAY!'(70)

(70) The passages left out in the Will, as marked by asterisks, though witty, are rather too gross for modern eyes.

To quote from Pegge once more:—What aggravates the reproach and disgrace upon us Englishmen, are those species of fighting which are called—"the battle royal and the Welsh main"—known nowhere in the world, as I think, but here; neither in China, nor in Persia, nor in Malacca, nor among the savage tribes of America. These are scenes so bloody as almost to be too shocking to relate; and yet as many may not be acquainted with the horrible nature of them, it may be proper, for the excitement of our aversion and detestation, to describe them in a few words.

'In the battle royal, an unlimited number of fowls are pitted; and after they have slaughtered one another, for the diversion (dii boni!) of the otherwise generous and humane Englishman, the single surviving bird is to be esteemed the victor, and carries away the prize. The Welsh main consists, we will suppose, of sixteen pairs of cocks; of these the sixteen conquerors are pitted a second time; and, lastly, the two conquerors of these are pitted a fifth time; so that (incredible barbarity!) thirty-one cocks are sure to be most inhumanly murdered for the sport and pleasure, the noise and nonsense, nay, I may say the profane cursing and swearing, of those who have the effrontery to call themselves, with all these bloody doings, and with all this impiety about them—Christians!' Moreover, this ungenerous diversion was the bane and destruction of thousands, who thus dissipated their patrimonial fortunes. That its attractions were irresistible is evident from the difficulty experienced in suppressing the practice. Down to a very recent date cock-fighting was carried on in secret,—the police now and then breaking into the secret pits, dispersing and chasing a motley crew of noblemen, gentlemen, and 'the scum of rascaldom.'

The practice is very far from having died out; mains are still fought in various parts of the country; but of course the greatest precautions are taken to insure secrecy and to prevent the interference of the police.

In connection with cock-fighting I remember a horrible incident that occurred in the West Indies. A gentleman who was passionately fond of the sport, and prided himself on the victories of his cocks, had the misfortune to see one of his birds so terribly wounded in the first onset that, although not killed, it was impossible for it to continue the fight. His rage at the mishap knew no bounds, and he vented it madly on the poor creature. He roasted it alive—standing by and hearing its piteous cries. In the midst of the horrible torture the wretched man became so excited that a fit of apoplexy supervened, and he positively expired before the poor bird at the fire!



CHAPTER XII. THE TURF, HISTORICAL, SOCIAL, MORAL.

It appears that horse-races were customary at public festivals even as early as the times of the patriarchs. They originated among the eastern nations, who were the first to discover the physical aptitudes of the noble animal and the spirited emulation of which he is capable. The Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, in succession, all indulged in the excitement; and it is a curious fact that the Romans, like the English jockeys of the present day, rode in different colours.

Horse-racing began very early in England. Fitz-Stephen, who wrote in the time of Henry VIII., mentions the delight taken by the citizens of London in the diversion. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth it appears to have greatly flourished, and to have been carried to such an excess as to have ruined many of the nobility.

The celebrated George, Earl of Cumberland, is said to have wasted more of his estates than any of his ancestors, and principally by his love of the turf and the tilt-yard. In the reign of James I., Croydon in the South, and Garterly in the North, were celebrated courses. Camden also states that in 1607 there were meetings near York, and the prize was a small golden bell; hence the origin of the saying 'bearing off the bell.'

Lord Herbert of Cherbury denounced the practice. 'The exercise,' says this gallant philosopher, 'I do not approve of is running of horses—there being much CHEATING in that kind,—neither do I see why a brave man should delight in a creature whose chief use is to help him to run away.' As far as the cheating is concerned, the philosopher may be right, but most assuredly his views of the horse do no credit to his Lordship's understanding.

It appears that the turf-men of those days went on breeding for shape and speed alone, without considering 'bottom,' until the reign of Queen Anne; when a public-spirited nobleman left thirteen plates or purses to be run for, at such places as the Crown should appoint, upon condition that every horse should carry twelve stone for the best of three heats—four miles. By this means a stronger horse was raised, who, if he was not good enough upon the race-course, made a hunter.

The Merry Monarch, Charles II., had given cups or bowls, estimated at one hundred guineas value, and upon which the names of the winning horses, the winner, and jockey were usually engraved. William III. added to the plates, as did Queen Anne; but in 1720 George I. discontinued this royal encouragement to the sport, apparently through sheer meanness. Since that period 'King's Plates' and 'Queen's Plates' have been paid in specie.

In the reign of Charles I. races were performed in Hyde Park; and until a very recent period 'the Ring' in the Park was the rendezvous of gentlemen's servants, for the purpose of betting or making up their betting books.

Newmarket races were established by Charles II., in 1667. Epsom, by Mr Parkhurst, in 1711. Ascot, by the Duke of Cumberland, uncle to George III. Doncaster, by Colonel St Leger, in 1778. Goodwood, by the Duke of Richmond, who died in 1806.

The Jockey Club began in the time of George II. Its latest rules, by which races are regulated, were enacted in 1828.

Tattersall's, the 'High Change of Horse-flesh,' was established by Richard Tattersall, near Hyde Park Corner—hence termed 'The Corner'—in 1766, for the sale of horses. The lease of the ground having expired, the new premises at Brompton were erected, and opened for business, in 1803.

On the accession of Queen Victoria the Royal stud was sold for L16,476, in Oct., 1837.(71)

(71) Haydon, Book of Dates.

Among the distinguished men who have supported the turf in this country may be mentioned George IV.(72) and William IV.; the late Duke of York; the Dukes of Richmond, Cleveland, Grafton, Bedford, and Beaufort; Marquises of Exeter and Westminster; Earls of Glasgow, Stradbrooke, Wilton, Chesterfield, Eglintoun, Verulam, and Lonsdale; Lords George Bentinck, Foley, Kinnaird, &c.; and last, though not least, the Right Honourable Charles James Fox. As to the turf, Fox used always to animadvert on his losses, and repeatedly observed—that 'his horses had as much bottom as other people's, but that they were such slow, good ones that they never went fast enough to tire themselves.' He had, however, the gratification of experiencing some few exceptions to this imaginary rule. In April, 1772, he was so lucky at Newmarket as to win nearly L16,000—the greater part of which he got by betting against the celebrated Pincher, who lost the match by only half a neck. The odds at STARTING were two to one on the losing horse. At the spring meeting at Newmarket, in 1789, Fox is said to have won not less than L50,000; and at the October meeting, at the same place, the following year, he sold two of his horses—Seagull and Chanticleer—for 4400 guineas. In the course of 1788 Fox and the Duke of Bedford won 8000 guineas between them at the Newmarket spring meeting, and during these races Fox and Lord Barrymore had a heavy match, which was given as a dead heat, and the bets were off.

(72) For some period previous to 1790, George IV. had patronized horse-racing and pugilism; but in that year, having attended a prize fight in which one of the boxers was killed, he ceased to support the ring, declaring that he would never be present at such a scene of murder again; and in 1791 he disposed of his stud, on account of some apparently groundless suspicion being attached to his conduct with regard to a race, in the event of which he had little or no real interest.

On coming into office with Lord North, in 1783, Mr Fox sold his horses, and erased his name from several of the clubs of which he was a member. It was not long, however, before he again purchased a stud, and in October he attended the Newmarket meeting. The king's messenger was obliged to appear on the course, to seek one of the ministers of England among the sportsmen on the heath, in order to deliver despatches upon which perhaps the fate of the country might have depended. The messenger on these occasions had his badge of office, the greyhound, not liking that the world should know that the king's adviser was amusing himself at Newmarket, when he should have been serving him in the metropolis. But Charles Fox preferred the betting rooms to Downing Street.

Again, in the year 1790, his horse Seagull won the Oatlands stakes at Ascot, of 100 guineas (19 subscribers), beating the Prince of Wales's Escape, Serpent, and several of the very best horses of that year—to the great mortification of His Royal Highness, who immediately matched Magpie against him, to run four days afterwards, two miles, for 500 guineas. This match, on which immense sums were depending, was won with ease by Seagull. At this period Lord Foley and Mr Fox were confederates. In those days the plates averaged from L50 to L100.

Lord Foley, who died in 1793, entered upon the turf with a clear estate of L1800 a year, and L100,000 ready money, which was considerably diminished by his losses at Newmarket, Ascot, and Epsom.

The race-horse of this country excels those of the whole world, not only for speed, but bottom. There is a great difference, however, between the present race and that of fifty or sixty years ago; for in those days four-mile heats were the fashion. The sporting records at the end of the last century give the following exploits of horses of that and previous periods.

Childers, known by the name of Flying Childers, the property of the Duke of Devonshire, was looked upon as the fleetest horse that ever was bred. He was never beaten; the sire of this celebrated horse was an Arabian.

Dorimont, belonging to Lord Ossory, won prizes to the amount of L13,360.

Eclipse was allowed to be the fastest horse that ever ran in England since the time of Childers. After winning largely for his owner, he covered, by subscription, forty mares at 30 guineas each, or 1200 guineas.

Highflyer, by King Herod, was the best horse of his day; was never beaten, nor paid forfeit but once. His winnings amounted to above L9000, although he only ran as a three, four, and five years old.

Matchem stood high both as a racer and as the sire of many of our most favourite horses. As a stallion he realized for his master more than L12,000. He died in 1781, at the advanced age of thirty-three.

Shark won a cup value 120 guineas, eleven hogsheads of claret, and above L16,000 in plates, matches, and forfeits.(73)

(73) Lord William Lennox, Merrie England.

Among recent celebrities must be mentioned Lord Stamford, who is said to have engaged Jemmy Grimshaw, a light-weighted jockey, at a salary of L1000 a year.

The most astounding 'event' of late years was that of 1867, when the horse Hermit—previously represented as being in an unfit condition even to run, won the race—to the unspeakable ruin of very many, and inflicting on the late Marquis of Hastings the enormous loss of about L100,000, which, however, in spite of unseemly rumours and, it is said, hopes of that nobleman's ruin, was honourably paid, to the day and hour.

But if ruin did not immediately come upon the young marquis, still the wound was deadly, inflicted as though with the ferocity of a demon. In his broken health and rapid decay sympathy was not withheld from him; and when a premature death put an end to his sufferings, and was speedily followed by the breaking up of his establishment and the dispersion of his ancestral effects, most men felt that he had, perhaps, atoned for his errors and indiscretions, whilst all united in considering him another unfortunate victim added to the long list of those who have sacrificed their fortune, health, and honour to the Gambling Moloch presiding over the Turf of England.(74)

(74) The 'Odds' or probabilities of horse racing are explained in chapter VIII., in which the entire 'Doctrine of Chances' is discussed.

Such are the leading facts of horse-racing in England. One cannot help observing that the sturdy strength and muscular exertions of an Olympic charioteer of old exhibit a striking contrast to the spider-like form and emaciated figure of a Newmarket jockey.

Qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam, Multa tulit, fecitque puer, SUDAVAT et alsit.

'Who in a race would reach the long'd-for goal, Must suffer much, do much, in youth, indeed, Must SWEAT and fag.'

This is literally true respecting the English jockey, whose attenuated form is accounted for in the following dialogue in an old work entitled 'Newmarket, or an Essay on the Turf,' 1771.

'Stop, stop, OLD GENTLEMAN! I desire to speak a word to you; pray which is the way to——.'

'I beg, sir, you will not interrupt me. I am a Newmarket jockey—am to ride in a few days a match, upon which there is a great deal depending, and I am now PREPARING.'

'Oh, I see now, you are a YOUNG man, instead of that old one for whom I mistook you by your wrappings; but pray, explain.'

'Why, your Honour must know that we jockeys, in order to bring ourselves down to the weight required for the horses we are to ride, sweat under a load of flannel wrapped about us beneath coats and great coats, and walk two or three miles in the heat of summer, till we are ready to faint under our burden.'

'Indeed! Why, you go through a deal!'

'Ah, sir, a great deal indeed! Why, we sometimes lie hours and hours between two feather-beds—to melt away our extraordinary weight.'

'But will you give me leave to examine your present dress? Hum! Two flannel waistcoats, a thick cloth coat, a Bath surtout! It is a vast weight to carry this warm weather. I only hope you won't sink under it.'

'Never fear, sir, I do not doubt but I shall do very well.'

The rewards of victory were as plain and simple in the Grecian games as they were distinguishing and honourable. A garland of palm, or laurel, or parsley, or pine leaves, served to adorn the brow of the fortunate victor, whilst his name stood a chance of being transmitted to posterity in the strains of some lofty Pindar. The rewards of modern days are indeed more substantial and solid, being paid in weighty gold or its equivalent, no matter whether obtained by the ruin of others, while the fleet coursers and their exulting proprietors stand conspicuous in the list of the Racing Calendar. The ingenious and ironical author of 'Newmarket, or an Essay on the Turf,' in the year 1771, bestowed the following titles and honours on the most famous horse of the day—Kelly's Eclipse:—'Duke of Newmarket, Marquis of Barnet, Earl of Epsom and York, Viscount Canterbury, Baron Eclipse of Mellay; Lord of Lewes, Salisbury, Ipswich, and Northampton; Comptroller-General of the race-grounds, and Premier Racer of All England.' To bear coat of arms—'A Pegasus argent on a field verd;—the supporters—two Englishmen in ermined robes and ducal coronets;—the crest—a purse, Or;—the motto—"Volat ocior Euro." '(75)

(75) 'He flies swifter than the east wind.'

Again, in the exhibition of those useful and honourable Olympic pastimes of old, the cause of morality was not overlooked:—there was in them a happy union of utility, pleasure, and virtue. A spotless life and unblameable manners, a purity of descent by being born in wedlock through several generations, and a series of creditable relations, were indispensable qualifications of a candidate on the Olympic turf. It is true, there is at least as much attention paid to purity and faultlessness on the plains of Newmarket; but the application is to the blood and pedigree of the horse, not of his rider.

Nay, it was, and is, notorious that the word 'jockey' has acquired the meaning of 'to trick,' 'to cheat,' as appears in all our dictionaries and in common parlance. What is the inference from this but that the winning of races is no absolute proof of the superiority of the horse—for whose improvement racing is said to be encouraged; but rather the result of a secret combination of expedients or arrangements—in a word, jockeying, that is, cheating, tricking. The only 'moral' character required in the jockey is the determination to do whatsoever may be agreed upon or determined by those who are willing and able to give 'a consideration' for the convenient accommodation.

But it is, or was, the associations, the inevitable concomitants, of the turf and racing that stamp it, not only as something questionable, but as a bane and infamy to the nation; and if there is one spot more eminently distinguished for a general rendezvous of fraud and gambling, that place is Newmarket.

The diversions of these plains have proved a decoy to many a noble and ingenuous mind, caught in the snares laid to entrap youth and inexperience. Newmarket was a wily labyrinth of loss and gain, a fruitful field for the display of gambling abilities, the school of the sharping crew, the academy of the Greeks, the unfathomable gulf that absorbed princely fortunes.

The amusements of the turf were in all other places intermixed with a variety of social diversions, which were calculated to promote innocent mirth and gaiety. The breakfastings, the concerts, the plays, the assemblies, attracted the circle of female beauty, enlivened the scene, engaged the attention of gentlemen, and thus prevented much of the evil contagion and destruction of midnight play. But encouragement to the GAMBLER of high and low degree was the very charter of Newmarket. Every object that met the eye was encompassed with gambling—from the aristocratic Rouge et Noir, Roulette, and Hazard, down to Thimble-rig, Tossing, and Tommy Dodd. Every hour of the day and night was beset with gambling diversified; in short, gambling must occupy the whole man, or he was lost to the sport and spirit of the place. The inhumanity of the cock-pit, the iniquitous vortex of the Hazard table, employed each leisure moment from the race, and either swallowed up the emoluments of the victorious field, or sank the jockey still deeper in the gulf of ruin.

The common people of England have been stigmatized (and perhaps too justly) for their love of bloody sports and cruel diversions; cock-fighting, bull-baiting, boxing, and the crowded attendance on executions, are but too many proofs of this sanguinary turn. But why the imputation should lie at the door of the vulgar alone may well be questioned; for while the star of nobility and dignified distinction was seen to glitter at a cock-match or on a boxing-stage, or near the 'Ring'—where its proprietor was liable to be elbowed by their highnesses of grease and soot, and to be hemmed in by knights of the post and canditates for Tyburn tree—when this motley group alike were fixed in eager attention, alike betted on and enjoyed each blood-drawing stroke of the artificial spur, or blow of the fist well laid in—what distinction was to be made between peer and plebeian, except in derogation of the former?

The race-course at Newmarket always presented a rare assemblage of grooms, gamblers, and greatness.

'See, side by side, the jockey and Sir John Discuss the important point of six to one; For, O my Muse! the deep-felt bliss how dear—How great the pride to gain a jockey's ear!'(76)

(76) Wharton's Newmarket.

Newmarket fame was an object of ambition sought by the most distinguished personages.

'Go on, brave youths, till in some future age Whips shall become the senatorial badge; Till England see her thronging senators Meet all at Westminster in boots and spurs; See the whole House with mutual phrensy mad, Her patriots all in leathern breeches clad; Of bets for taxes learnedly debate, And guide with equal reins a steed or state.'(77)

(77) Ibid.

And then at the winning-post what motley confusion.

——————————'A thousand tongues Jabber harsh jargon from a thousand lungs. **** Dire was the din—as when in caverns pent, Hoarse Boreas storms and Eurus works for vent, The aeolian brethren heave the labouring earth, And roar with elemental strife for birth.'(78)

(78) 'The Gamblers.' Horace had said long before—Tanto cum strepitu ludi spectantur, 'So great a noise attends the games!

The frauds and stratagems of wily craft which once passed current at Newmarket, surpassed everything that can be imagined at the present day. The intruding light of the morning was execrated by the nightly gamblers. 'Grant us but to perish in the light,' was the prayer of the warlike Ajax:—'Grant us black night for ever,' exclaimed the gambler; and his wishes were consistent with the place and the foul deeds perpetrated therein.(79)

(79) The principal gambling-room at Newmarket was called the 'Little Hell.'

Sit mihi fas audita loqui—sit numine vestro, Pandere res alta terra et caligine mersas.

The turf-events of every succeeding year verify the lament of the late Lord Derby:—

'The secession from the turf of men who have station and character, and the accession of men who have neither, are signs visible to the dullest apprehension. The once national sport of horse-racing is being degraded to a trade in which it is difficult to perceive anything either sportive or national. The old pretence about the improvement of the breed of horses has become a delusion, too stale for jesting.'

Nothing is more incontestable than the fact that the breed of English horses has not been really improved, certainly not by racing and its requirements. It has been truly observed that 'what is called the turf is merely a name for the worst kind of gambling. The men who engage in it are as far as possible from any ideal of sporting men. It is a grim joke, in fact, to speak of "sport" at all in their connection. The turf to them is but a wider and more vicious sort of tapis vert—the racing but the rolling of the balls—the horses but animated dice. It is difficult to name a single honest or manly instinct which is propagated by the turf as it is, or which does not become debased and vitiated by the association. From a public recreation the thing has got to be a public scandal. Every year witnesses a holocaust of great names sacrificed to the insatiable demon of horse-racing—ancient families ruined, old historic memories defiled at the shrine of this vulgarest and most vicious of popular passions.'

Among those who have sought to reform the turf is Sir Joseph Hawley, who last year succeeded in procuring the abolition of two-year-old races before the 1st of May. He is now endeavouring, to go much further, and has given notice of a motion for the appointment of a committee of the Jockey Club to consider the question of the whole condition of the turf.

There can be no doubt, that, if Sir Joseph Hawley's propositions, as announced, be adopted, even in a modified form, they would go to the very root of the evil, and purify the turf of the worst of the present scandals.

It would require a volume, or perhaps many volumes, to treat of the subject of the present chapter—the Turf, Historical, Social, Moral; but I must now leave this topic, of such terrible national interest, to some other conscientious writer capable of 'doing justice' to the theme, in all its requirements.



CHAPTER XIII. FORTUNE-TELLING BY CARDS (FOR LADIES).

It must be admitted that this practice—however absurd in its object and application—does great credit to human ingenuity. Once admitting the possibility of such conjuring, it is impossible to deny the propriety of the reasonings deduced from the turning up, the collocation, or the juxta-position of the various cards, when the formalities of the peculiar shuffle and cut required have been duly complied with by the consulter.

The cards are first shuffled ad libitum, then cut three different times, and laid on a table, face upwards, one by one, in the form of a circle, or more frequently nine in a row. If the conjurer is a man he chooses one of the kings as his representative; if a woman, she selects one of the queens. This is on the supposition that persons are consulting for themselves; otherwise it is the fortune-teller who selects the representative card. Then the queen of the chosen king, or the king of the chosen queen, stands for a husband or wife, mistress or lover, of the party whose fortune is to be told. The knave of the suit represents the most intimate person of their family.

The ninth card every way, that is, counted from the representative, is of the greatest consequence, and that interval comprises the 'circle' of the inquirer, for good or for evil.

Now, all the cards have had assigned to them arbitrary, but plausible, characteristics. Thus, the ace of clubs (that suit representing originally the 'fortunate husbandmen') promises great wealth, much prosperity in life, and tranquillity of mind—if it turns up within your circle, as before mentioned. King of clubs announces a man of dark complexion who is humane, upright, &c., in fact, just the man for a husband. Queen of clubs is equally propitious as the emblem of a dark lady who would prove a paragon wife. Knave of clubs, a jolly good friend in every way. Ten of clubs always flurries the heart of the inquirer—especially if 'hard up'—for it denotes riches speedily forthcoming from an unexpected quarter—which is usually the case in such circumstances; but then it also threatens the loss of some dear friend—which, however, cannot signify much if you get 'the money.' Seven of clubs promises the most brilliant fortune, and the most exquisite bliss this world can afford; but then you are ungallantly warned that you must 'beware of the opposite sex'—which seems a contradiction in terms—for how call 'the most exquisite bliss this world can afford' be secured without the aid of 'the opposite sex'? Five of clubs is the main point of maid-servants, young girls from the country, governesses, in short, of all the floating womanhood of the land—for 'it declares that you will shortly be married to a person who will—MEND your CIRCUMSTANCES.' The trey of clubs is scarcely less exhilarating, for it promises that you will be married three times, and each time to a wealthy person. On the whole the suit of clubs is very lucky, but, very appropriately, the deuce thereof portends some 'unfortunate opposition to your favourite inclination, which will disturb you.'(80)

(80) According to other authorities, the ace of clubs means a letter; the nine, danger caused by drunkenness; the eight, danger from covetousness; the seven, a prison, and danger from the opposite sex; the six, competence by hard-working industry; the five, a happy but NOT wealthy marriage; the four, danger of misfortunes caused by inconstancy or capricious temper; the trey, quarrels.

The suit of diamonds is by no means so satisfactory as the gem of a name would seem to indicate; but perhaps we must remember that this suit represented originally the COMMERCIAL CLASSES, and that probably this divination by cards was invented by some proud ARISTOCRAT in those times when tradesmen did not stand so high as they now do in morality, uprightness, &c. The ace of diamonds puts you on the qui vive for the postman; it means a LETTER. It is only to be hoped that it is not one of those nasty things, yellow outside and blue within—a dun from some importunate butcher, baker, grocer, or—tailor. The king of diamonds shows a revengeful, fiery, obstinate fellow of very fair complexion in your circle; the queen of diamonds is nothing but a gay coquette, of the same complexion as the king, and not 'over-virtuous'—a very odd phrase in use for the absence of virtue altogether; the knave of diamonds is a selfish, impracticable fellow; ten of diamonds is one of the few exceptions to the evil omens of this suit, it promises a country husband or a wife with great wealth and many children—the number of the latter being indicated by the next card to it; it also signifies a purse of gold—but where? Oh, where? Nine of diamonds indicates simply a vagabond, full of vexation and disappointment; eight of diamonds shows an enemy to marriage, who may, however, 'marry late,' and find himself in a terrible 'fix;' seven of diamonds is worse still, portending all the horrors of the divorce court and the bankruptcy court—conjugal profligacy and extravagance; six of diamonds means early marriage and premature widowhood, and a second marriage, which will probably be worse; five of diamonds is the next exception to the misery of this suit, it promises 'good children, who will KEEP YOU FROM GRIEF'—at best, however, only a makeshift; four of diamonds is as bad as seven of diamonds—portending the same results; the trey of diamonds threatens all manner of strife, law-suits, &c., promises a vixen for a wife, to your great domestic misery; the deuce of diamonds concludes the catalogue of wretchedness with the assurance that you will fall in love early, that your parents will not approve of your choice, and if you marry, notwithstanding, that they will hardly ever forgive you.(81)

(81) Otherwise the ace of diamonds means a wedding ring, the king, a fiery but a placable person, of very fair complexion; the ten, money, success in honourable business; the eight, a happy prudent marriage, though late in life; the five, unexpected and most likely good news; the four, a faithless friend, a betrayed secret.

The suit of hearts, as previously explained, represented originally the ecclesiastical order, the jolly monks, churchmen of all degrees; how far the indications tally must be left to the ingenious reader to determine. The ace of hearts means feasting and pleasure; but if attended by spades, it foretells quarrelling; if by hearts it shows affection and friendship; if by diamonds, you will hear of some absent friend; if by clubs, of merry-making: the king of hearts denotes a not VERY fair man, good-natured, but hot and hasty individual, and very amorous; the queen of hearts promises a lady of golden locks (not necessarily 'carrots'), faithful and affectionate; the knave of hearts is a particular friend, and great attention must be paid to the card that stands next to him, as from it alone you can judge whether the person it represents will favour your inclination or not, because he is always the dearest friend or nearest relation of the consulting party; the ten of hearts shows good nature and many children, and is a corrective of the bad tidings of the cards that stand next to it; and if its neighbouring cards are of good import, it ascertains and confirms their value: nine of hearts promises wealth, grandeur, and high esteem; if cards that are unfavourable stand near it, you may expect disappointments; and the reverse, if favourable cards follow; if these last be at a small distance, expect to retrieve your losses, whether of peace or goods: eight of hearts signifies drinking and feasting; seven of hearts shows a fickle and unfaithful person, vicious, spiteful, malicious; six of hearts promises a generous, open, credulous disposition, often a dupe; if this card comes before your king or queen (as the case may be) YOU will be the dupe; if after, you will get the upper hand: five of hearts portends a wavering, unsteady, unreliable individual of either sex: four of hearts indicates late marriage from 'delicacy in making a choice:' trey of hearts is rather a 'poser;' 'it shows that your own impudence will greatly contribute to your experiencing the ill-will of others:' deuce of hearts promises extraordinary success and good fortune, though, perhaps, you may have to wait long for 'the good time coming.'(82)

(82) Or,—the ace of hearts denotes the house of the consulter; the queen, a lady not VERY fair; seven, many good friends; six, honourable courtship; five, a present; four, domestic troubles caused by jealousy.

The suit of spades originally represented the NOBILITY, and the following are its significances in fortune-telling. The ace of spades wholly relates to love-affairs, without specifying whether lawful or unlawful—a pretty general occupation of the 'nobility,' of course; it also denotes death when the card is upside down: the king of spades shows a man ambitious and successful at court, or with some great man who will have it in his power to advance him—but, let him beware of the reverse! the queen of spades shows that a person will be corrupted by the rich of both sexes; if she is handsome great attempts will be made on her virtue: the knave of spades shows a fellow that requires much rousing, although 'quite willing to serve you' with his influence and patronage—like many a member in the case of his importunate constituents: the ten of spades is a card of caution, counteracting the good effect of the card near you: the nine of spades is positively the worst card in the whole pack; it portends dangerous sickness, total loss of fortune, cruel calamities, endless dissension in your family, and death at last—I hope you may never see it near you: the eight of spades indicates much opposition from your FRIENDS, or those you imagine to be such; if this card comes near you, leave your plan and adopt another: seven of spades shows the loss of a most valuable, influential friend, whose death will plunge you in very great distress and poverty: the six of spades announces a mediocrity of fortune, and great uncertainty in your undertakings: the five of spades is rather doubtful as to success or a rise in life; but it promises luck in the choice of your companion for life, although it shows that your own temper is rather sullen—and so to get a 'fond creature' to take care of you, with such a temper, is a mighty great blessing, and more than you deserve: the four of spades shows sickness speedily, and injury of fortune by friends: the trey of spades shows that you will be fortunate in marriage, but that your inconstant temper will make you unhappy: the deuce of spades is the UNDERTAKER, at last; it positively shows a COFFIN, but who it is for must depend entirely on the cards that are near it.(83)

(83) Or,—the ace of spades denotes death, malice, a duel, a general misfortune; the king, a man of very dark complexion, ambitious, and unscrupulous; the queen, a very dark-complexioned woman of malicious disposition, or a widow; the knave, a lawyer, a person to be shunned; the ten, disgrace, crime, imprisonment, death on the scaffold; the eight, great danger from imprudence; the six, a child, to the unmarried a card of caution; the five, great danger from giving way to bad temper; the trey, a journey by land,—tears; the deuce, a removal.

'The nine of hearts is termed the wish card. After the general fortune has been told, a separate and different manipulation is performed, to learn if the pryer into futurity will obtain a particular wish; and from the position of the wish card in the pack the required answer is deduced.

'The foregoing is merely the alphabet of the art; the letters, as it were, of the sentences formed by the various combinations of the cards. A general idea only can be given here of the manner in which those prophetic sentences are formed. As before stated, if a married woman consults the cards, the king of her own suit, or complexion, represents her husband; but with single women, the lover, either in esse or posse, is represented by his own colour; and all cards, when representing persons, lose their own normal significations. There are exceptions, however, to these general rules. A man, no matter what his complexion, if he wear uniform, even if he be the negro cymbal-player in a regimental band, can be represented by the king of diamonds:—note, the dress of policemen and volunteers is not considered as uniform. On the other hand, a widow, even if she be an albiness, can be represented only by the queen of spades.

'The ace of hearts always denoting the house of the person consulting the decrees of fate, some general rules are applicable to it. Thus the ace of clubs signifying a letter, its position, either before or after the ace of hearts, shows whether the letter is to be sent to or from the house. The ace of diamonds when close to the ace of hearts foretells a wedding in the house; but the ace of spades betokens sickness and death.

'The knaves represent the thoughts of their respective kings and queens, and consequently the thoughts of the persons whom those kings and queens represent, in accordance with their complexions.

For instance, a young lady of a rather but not decidedly dark complexion, represented by the queen of clubs, when consulting the cards, may be shocked to find her fair lover (the king of diamonds) flirting with a wealthy widow (the queen of spades, attended by the ten of diamonds), but she will be reassured by finding his thoughts (the knave of diamonds) in combination with a letter (ace of clubs), a wedding ring (ace of diamonds), and her house (the ace of hearts); clearly signifying that, though he is actually flirting with the rich widow, he is, nevertheless, thinking of sending a letter, with an offer of marriage, to the young lady herself. And look, where are her own thoughts, represented by the knave of clubs; they are far away with the old lover, that dark man (king of spades) who, as is plainly shown by his being attended by the nine of diamonds, is prospering at the Australian diggings or elsewhere. Let us shuffle the cards once more, and see if the dark man, at the distant diggings, ever thinks of his old flame, the club-complexioned young lady in England. No! he does not. Here are his thoughts (the knave of spades), directed to this fair, but rather gay and coquettish, woman (the queen of diamonds); they are separated but by a few hearts, one of them, the sixth (honourable courtship), showing the excellent understanding that exists between them. Count, now, from the six of hearts to the ninth card from it, and lo! it is a wedding ring (the ace of diamonds); they will be married before the expiration of a twelvemonth.'

Such is the scheme of fortune-telling by cards, as propounded in the learned disquisitions of the adepts, and Betty, or Martha, or her mistress can consult them by themselves according to the established method—without exposing themselves to the extortionate cunning of the wandering gipsies or the permanent crone of the city or village. They may just as well believe what comes out according to their own manipulation as by that of the heartless cheats in question. Your ordinary fortune-tellers are not over-particular, being only anxious to tell you exactly what you want to know. So if a black court card gets in juxta-position with and looking towards a red court card, the fair consulter's representative, then it is evident that some 'dark gentleman' is 'after her;' and vice versa; and if a wife, suspecting her husband's fidelity, consults the cards, the probability is that her SUSPICIONS will receive 'confirmation strong' from the fact that 'some dark woman,' that is, a black queen, 'is after her husband;' or vice versa, if a husband consults the card-woman respecting the suspicions he may have reason to entertain with regard to his 'weaker rib' or his 'intended.'

It need scarcely be observed that fortune-tellers in any place are 'posted up' in all information or gossip in the neighbourhood; and therefore they readily turn their knowledge to account in the answers they give to anxious inquirers.

Apart from this, however, the interpretations are so elaborately comprehensive that 'something' MUST come true in the revelations; and we all know that in such matters that something coming to pass will far outweigh the non-fulfilment of other fatal ordinations. Of course no professional fortune-teller would inform an old man that some dark or fair man was 'after' his old woman; but nothing is more probable than the converse, and much family distraction has frequently resulted from such perverse revelation of 'the cards.' In like manner your clever fortune-teller will never promise half-a-dozen children to 'an old lady,' but she will very probably hold forth that pleasant prospect—if such it be—to a buxom lass of seventeen or eighteen—especially in those counties of England where the ladies are remarkable for such profuse bounty to their husbands.

As a general proposition, it matters very little what may be the means of vaticination or prediction—whether cards, the tea-grounds in the cup, &c.,—all POSSIBLE events have a degree of probability of coming to pass, which may vary from 20 to 1 down to a perfect equality of chance; and the clever fortune-teller, who may be mindful of her reputation, will take care to regulate her promises or predictions according to that proposition.

Many educated ladies give their attention to the cards, and some have acquired great proficiency in the art. On board a steamer sailing for New York, on one occasion a French lady among the saloon-passengers undertook to amuse the party by telling their fortunes. A Scotch young gentleman, who was going out to try and get a commission in the Federal army, had his fortune told. Among the announcements, as interpreted by the lady, was the rather unpleasant prospect that two constables would be 'after' him! We all laughed heartily at the odd things that came out for everybody, and then the thing was forgotten; the steamer reached her destination; and all the companions of the pleasant voyage separated and went their different ways.

Some months after, I met the young gentleman above alluded to, and among the various adventures which he had had, he mentioned the following. He said that shortly after his arrival in New York he presented a ten-dollar note which he had received, at a drinking-house, that it was declared a forged note, and that he was given into custody; but that the magistrate, on being conclusively convinced of his respectability, dismissed the charge without even taking the trouble to establish the alleged fact that the note was a forgery. So far so good; but on the following morning, whilst at breakfast at his hotel, another police-officer pounced upon him, and led him once more on the same charge to another magistrate, who, however, dismissed the case like the other.(84)

(84) It appears that this is allowable in New York. The explanation of the perverse prosecution was, that the young gentleman did not 'fee' the worthy policemen, according to custom in such cases.

Thereupon I said—'Why, the French lady's card-prediction on board came to pass! Don't you remember what she said about two constables being "after you"?'

'Now I remember it,' he said; 'but I had positively forgotten all about it. Well, she was right there—but I am sorry to say that nothing else she PROMISED has come to pass.'

Doubtless all other consulters of the cards and of astrologers can say the same, although all would not wisely conclude that a system must be erroneous which misleads human hope in the great majority of cases. In fact, like the predictions in our weather-almanacks, the fortune-teller's announcements are only right BY CHANCE, and wrong ON PRINCIPLE.

FORTUNE-TELLING FORTY YEARS AGO, OR, THE STORY OF MARTHA CARNABY.

A certain Martha Carnaby, a tidy but rather 'unsettled' servant girl, some forty years ago went to an old fortune-teller, to have her fortune told, and the doings on both sides came out as follows, before the magistrate at the Bow Street police-court. The fortune-teller was 'had up,' as usual, 'for obtaining money and other valuables' from the former.

Miss Martha Carnaby said that this celebrated old fortune-teller had first gained her acquaintance by attending at her master's house, before the family had risen, and urging her to have her fortune told. At length, after much persuasion, she consented; but the fortune-teller told her that before the secrets of her future destiny were revealed, she must deposit in her hands some little token, TO BIND THE CHARM, which the old lady said she would invoke the same evening—'if I would call at her lodgings, and also cast my nativity by her cards, and tell me every particular of the future progress of my life. I accordingly gave her what money I had; but that, she told me, was not enough to buy the ingredients with which she was to compose the charm. I at length gave her four silver teaspoons and two tablespoons, which she put carefully in her pocket; and then asked me to let her look at my hand, which I showed her. She told me there were many lines in it which clearly indicated great wealth and happiness; and, after telling her my name was Martha Carnaby, she took her departure, and I agreed to meet her at her lodgings the same evening. Agreeably to her directions, I dressed myself in as fashionable a manner as I could, because I WAS TO SEE MY SWEETHEART THROUGH A MIRROR, AND HE WAS TO SEE ME.'

The poor deluded creature then stated that she attended punctually at the hour appointed, at the old lady's sanctum, and seating herself upon an old chair, beheld with astonishment quite as much as she bargained for. 'I felt myself,' said poor Martha, 'on entering the room, all of a twitter. The old woman was seated in her chair of state, and, reaching down from the mantel-piece a pack of cards, began, after muttering a few words in a language I could not understand, to lay them very carefully in her lap; she then foretold that I should get married, but not to the person in our house, as I expected, but to another young man, whom, if I could afford a trifle, she would show me through her MATRIMONIAL MIRROR. To this I consented, and she desired me to shut my eyes and keep my face covered while she made the necessary preparations; and there she kept me, with my face hid in her lap, until I was nearly smothered; when suddenly she told me to turn round, and look through the mirror, which was seen through a hole in a curtain, and I saw a young man pass quickly before me, staring me in the face, at which I was much surprised, she assuring me that he would be my husband. It was then agreed that she was to call on me the next morning, and return the silver spoons; but, your Worship,' said the poor girl, 'she never came; and as I was afraid my mistress would soon want them, I asked the advice of a woman in our neighbourhood, as to what I had better do, and to whom I related all the circumstances I have told your Worship; when the woman asked me how I could have been such a fool as to be duped by that old cheat at the bar,—that she was a notorious old woman, that she had in her employ some young man, who was always hid in the room, to overhear the conversation, and to run from out of the hiding-place before the mirror; and that I ought to be thankful I came away as well as I did, as many young girls had been ruined through going to this old creature; that, from her acquaintance with so many servant girls, she always contrived to get from them such intelligence as enabled her to answer those questions that might be put to her, as to the business, name, place of abode, country, and other circumstances of the party applying, the answering of which always convinced the credulous creatures who went to her, of her great skill in the art of astrology; and when she was right in her guessing, she always took care to have it well published.'

Of course, and again, as usual, the magistrate 'hoped it would be a lesson to Martha, and to all other foolish girls, never to hearken to those infernal, wicked old wretches, the fortune-tellers—many a girl having lost her character and virtue by listening to their nonsense;' but there have been hundreds and thousands of such Marthas since then, and no doubt there will be very many more in future—in spite of the ridiculous exposure of such dupes ever and anon, in courts of justice and in the columns of the daily papers.

'The art of cartomancy, or divination by playing-cards, dates from an early period of their obscure history. In the museum of Nantes there is a painting, said to be by Van Eyck, representing Philippe le Bon, Archduke of Austria, and subsequently King of Spain, consulting a fortune-teller by cards. This picture cannot be of a later date than the fifteenth century. Then the art was introduced into England is unknown; probably, however, the earliest printed notice of it in this country is the following curious story, extracted from Rowland's Judicial Astrology Condemned:—"Cuffe, an excellent Grecian, and secretary to the Earl of Essex, was told, twenty years before his death, that he should come to an untimely end, at which Cuffe laughed, and in a scornful manner entreated the soothsayer to show him in what manner he should come to his end, who condescended to him, and calling for cards, entreated Cuffe to draw out of the pack any three which pleased him. He did so, and drew three knaves, and laid them on the table by the wizard's direction, who then told him, if he desired to see the sum of his bad fortune, to take up those cards. Cuffe, as he was prescribed, took up the first card, and looking on it, he saw the portraiture of himself cap-a-pie, having men encompassing him with bills and halberds. Then he took up the second, and there he saw the judge that sat upon him; and taking up the last card, he saw Tyburn, the place of his execution, and the hangman, at which he laughed heartily. But many years after, being condemned, he remembered and declared this prediction."

'The earliest work on cartomancy was written or compiled by one Francesco Marcolini, and printed at Venice in 1540.'(85)

(85) The Book of Days, Feb. 21. In this work there is a somewhat different account of cartomancy to that which I have expounded 'on the best authorities' and from practical experience with the adepts in the art; but, in a matter of such immense importance to ladies of all degrees, I have thought proper to give, in foot-notes, the differing interpretations of the writer in the Book of Days, who professes to speak with some authority, not however, I think, superior to mine, for I have investigated the subject to the utmost.



CHAPTER XIV. AMUSING CARD TRICKS.(86)

(86) These tricks appeared originally in Beeton's Christmas Annual, and are here reproduced with permission.

Although my work is a history of gambling, in all its horrors, and with all its terrible moral warnings, I gladly conclude it 'happily,' after the manner of the most pleasing novels and romances,—namely, by a method of contriving innocent and interesting amusement with cards, without the 'chance' of encountering the risks, calamities, and disgrace of gambling.

I was led to the investigation of this branch of my subject by the following incident. Being present at a party when a gentleman performed one of the tricks described, No. 7, the rest of the company and myself were all much surprised at the result, and urgently requested him to explain the method of his performance, which, however, he stoutly refused to do, averring that he would not take L1000 for it. This was so ridiculously provoking that I offered to bet him L5 that I would discover the method within 24 hours. To my astonishment he declined the bet, not, however, without a sort of compliment, admitting that I MIGHT do so. He was right; for, as Edgar Poe averred, no man can invent a puzzle which some other man cannot unravel. In effect, I called upon him the following day, and performed the trick not only according to his method, but also by another, equally successful. I have reason to believe that most of the tricks of my selection had not previously appeared in print; at any rate, I have given to all of them an exposition which may entitle them to some claim of originality.

PRELIMINARY HINTS.

I. Shuffling, in the simple and inoffensive sense of the expression, is an important point in all tricks with cards. For the most part, it is only a pretence or dexterous management—keeping a card or cards in your command whilst seeming to shuffle them into the pack.

Every performer has his method of such shuffling. Some hold the pack perpendicularly with the left hand, then with the right take a portion of the pack—about one half—and make a show of shuffling the two parts together edgeways, but, in reality, replace them as they were. With rapidity of execution every eye is thus deceived.

If a single card is to be held in command, place it at the bottom of the pack, which you hold in your left, and then, with your right thumb and middle finger, raise and throw successively portions of the pack, leaving the bottom card in contact with the fingers of the left hand.

With dexterity, any portion of the pack may be shuffled, leaving the remainder just as it was, by separating it during the process by inserting one or more fingers of the left hand between it and the portions shuffled.

II. Cutting—not in the sense of bolting at the sight of 'blue,' though that is of consequence to card-sharpers—is of importance in all card tricks. In many tricks cutting the cards is only a pretence, as it is necessary for the success of the trick to replace them as they were; in technical terms, we must 'blow up the cut.'(87)

(87) This is the sauter la coupe referred to in the chapter on the Gaming Clubs, in the account of the trial of Lord de Ros. See 'Graham's Club.'

There are several ways of performing this sleight-of-hand. The cards being cut, and forming two lots on the table, smartly snatch up the lot which should be placed on the other, with the left hand.

This lot being taken up and the hand being in the position shown in the figure, snatch up in like manner the other lot, and, by a movement of the palm of the hand and the tips of the fingers, pass the second lot under the first.

The deception of the trick depends upon its dexterity, and this can only be acquired by practice. But really it may be dispensed with; for it is a curious fact that, in every case when the cards are cut, you may actually replace them just as they were without being observed by the spectators—for the simple reason that the ruse is not suspected, especially if their attention is otherwise engaged with your pointed observations.

The 'gift of the gab' is in this case, as in many others, a very great resource. A striking remark or bon mot will easily mystify the spectators, and attract their attention from what you are DOING. Hence all prestidigitators are always well stocked with anecdotes and funny observations; indeed, they talk incessantly: they speak well, too, and they take care to time the word accurately with the moment when their fingers act most energetically.

III. To slip a card.—To slip a card is to pretend to take the bottom card of the pack, and in reality to take the card which precedes it. To perform this feat without detection is a very simple affair, but it requires practice.

The pack of cards being held in the right hand, advance the left hand—palm upwards—just as if you were seizing the last card with the middle finger; but, having slightly moistened this finger with the lips, push back this card, and make it slip under the palm of the right hand, whilst you seize the preceding card with the thumb and forefinger.

In this manner you may successively draw out several cards besides the last, and only draw the last as the sixth, seventh, &c., which will serve to effect several interesting tricks to be explained in the sequel.

IV. To file the card.—To file the card is, when a card has been taken from the pack to pretend to place it about the middle of the pack, whilst, in reality, you place it at the bottom.

The pack must be held in the left hand, between the thumb and forefinger, so that the three other fingers be free. One of the middle cards should project a little. Then take the card to be filed between the forefinger and the middle finger of the right hand; advance the right hand from the left, and whilst the three disengaged fingers of the left hand seize and place the card under the pack, the thumb and forefinger of the right seize the projecting card before mentioned, so that it seems to be that card which you have slipped into the middle of the pack. These movements are very easy, and, when rapidly performed, the illusion is complete.

TRICKS.

1. To tell a card thought of by a party after three deals.

Take twenty-one cards of a pack, and deal them out one by one in three lots, requesting the party to think of a card, and remember in which lot it is.

Having dealt out the cards, ask the party in which lot the card is.

Take up the lots successively, and place the lot containing the card in the MIDDLE.

Deal out the cards again, and ask the party to state in which lot the card is; and proceed as before, placing the lot containing the card in the middle.

Deal out the cards in like manner a third time, proceeding as before.

Then deal them out as usual, and the eleventh card will be the one thought of, infallibly. This is the usual way of showing the card thought of; but, as the trick may be partly discovered by the counting, it is better to hold the cards in your hand, and take out the eleventh card, counting to yourself, of course, from the left hand, but pretending to be considering the guess.

This is apparently a most mysterious trick, although a necessary consequence of the position of the lot containing the card in the three deals.

2. The four inseparable kings.

Take four kings. Beneath the last place any two cards, which you take care to conceal. Then show the four kings and replace the six cards under the pack.

Then take a king and place it in the top of the pack, place one of the TWO OTHER CARDS in the middle, and the other about the same place, and then, turning up the pack, show that one king is still at the bottom. Then let the cards be cut, and as three kings were left below, all must necessarily get together somewhere about the middle of the pack. Of course in placing the two other cards you pretend to be placing two kings.

3. The barmaid and the three victimizers.

For this amusing trick you arrange the cards thus: Holding the pack in your hands, find all the knaves, place one of them next to your left hand, and the other three on the table. Then find a queen, which also place on the table. Then say:—

'Three scamps went into a tavern, and ordered drink. Here they are—the three knaves. "Who's to pay? I can't," said the first.

"I won't," said the second. "I wish she may get it," said the third. "I'll manage it," said the first, the greatest rogue of the three. "I say, my pretty girl, haven't you some very old wine in your cellar?" Here's the barmaid thus addressed by the rogue in question (showing the queen), and she replied:—"Oh yes, sir, prime old wine." "Let's have a bottle." (Off went the barmaid. Put the queen in your pocket.) "Now for it, my lads," said the knave in question; "'mizzle' is the word. Let's be off in opposite directions, and meet to-night; you know where." Hereupon they decamped, taking opposite directions, which I will indicate by placing one on the top of the pack, one at the bottom, and the other in the middle.

'When the poor barmaid returned (taking out the queen from your pocket) with the wine, great was her astonishment to find the room empty. "Lor!" she exclaimed, "why, I do declare—did you ever!—Oh! but I'm not agoing to be sarved so. I'll catch the rogues, all of them—that I will." And off she went after them, as shown by placing her ON, or at any rate, AFTER the first.

'Now, to catch the three seemed impossible; but the ladies have always smiled at impossibilities, and wonders never cease; for, if you have the goodness to cut these cards, you will find that she HAS caught the three rogues.'

When the cards are cut, proceed in the USUAL WAY after cutting—NOT as required in the last trick; and taking up the cards, you will find the queen and three knaves together, which you take out and exhibit to the astonished audience.

Of course, one of these knaves is not one of the three first exhibited, but the one which you slipped on your left hand at first. There is no chance of detection, however; simply for the reason before given—nobody suspects the trick.

4. How to name every card in a pack successively turned up by a second party, and win every trick at a hand of Whist.

This is, perhaps, the most astonishing of all tricks with cards. Although it may be true that whatever puzzle one man invents, some other man may unravel, as before observed, I am decidedly of opinion that this trick defies detection. At the first blush it seems very difficult to learn; but it is simplicity itself in explanation.

Begin by laying out the cards in four rows according to the suits, all of a suit in a row side by side.

The cards must now be arranged for the trick. Take up the six in the top or bottom row, then the two in the next row, the ten in the third, and the nine in the fourth, placing them one upon the other in the left hand. Then begin again with the row from which you took the six, and take up the three. From the next row take the king. These numbers will be easily remembered with a little practice, amounting altogether to 30, made up thus—6 and 2 are 8, 8 and 10 are 18, 18 and 9 are 27, 27 and 3 are 30—KING.

By repeating this addition a few times, it will be fixed in the memory.

Proceed by next beginning with the row next to the one from which you took the last card or the king, and take the eight; from the next row take the four; from the next the ace; from the next the knave. These cards make up 13. Therefore say, 8 and 4 are 12 and 1 are 13—knave.

From the next row to that whence you took the knave, take the seven; from the next row take the five; from the next the queen. These cards make up 12. Thus, 7 and 5 are 12—queen.

It thus appears that you have taken up thirteen cards consisting of the four suits, successively taken and being arranged as follows:—6, 2, 10, 9, 3, king; 8, 4, 1, knave; 7, 5, queen.

Proceed in like manner with the remainder of the cards, beginning with the row next to that from which you took the queen, and take the six, then from the next row the two, and so on as before, making up another batch of 13 cards.

Repeat the process for a third batch, and finish with the remainder for the fourth—always remembering to take the card from the next row in succession continually; in other words, only one card must be taken from each row at a time.

When the cards are thus arranged, request a party to cut them. This is only pretence; for you must take care dexterously to replace the cut just as it was before. Let them be cut again, and replace them as before. Your ruse will not be detected, simply because nobody suspects the possibility of the thing.

Now take up the pack, and from the BOTTOM take the first four cards; handing the remainder to a party, sitting before you, saying—'I shall now call every card in succession from the top of the pack in your hand.'

To do this, two things must be remembered; and there is no difficulty in it. First, the numbers 6, 2, 10, 9, 3, king, &c., before given; and next the SUIT of those cards.

Now you know the NUMBERS by heart, and the SUIT is shown by the four cards which you hold in your hand, fan-like, in the usual way. If the first of the four cards be a club, the first card you call will be the six of clubs; if the next be a heart, the next card called will be the two of hearts, and so on throughout the thirteen made up from every row, as before given, and the suits of each card will be indicated successively by the suit of each of your four indicator cards, thus, as the case may be, clubs, hearts, diamonds, spades; clubs, hearts, diamonds, spades, and so on.

After a little private practice, you will readily and rapidly call, as the case may be, from the four cards in your hand:—the six of clubs, two of hearts, ten of diamonds, nine of spades, three of clubs, king of hearts, eight of diamonds, four of spades, ace of clubs, knave of hearts, seven of diamonds, five of spades, queen of clubs—and so on to the last card in the pack.

In the midst of the astonishment produced by this seemingly prodigious display of memory, say—'Now, if you like, we will have a hand at Whist, and I undertake to win every trick if I be allowed to deal.'

Let the Whist party be formed, and get the cards cut as usual—only taking care to REPLACE them, as before enjoined, precisely as they were. Deal the cards, and the result will be that your thirteen cards will be ALL TRUMPS. Let the game proceed until your opponents 'give it up' in utter bewilderment.

This splendid trick seems difficult in description, but it is one of the easiest; and even were it ten times more difficult than it is, the reader will perhaps admit that it is worth mastering. Once committed to memory the figures are never forgotten, and a few repetitions, with the cards before you, will suffice to enable you to retain them.

5. Two persons having each drawn a card and replaced them in the pack, to guess these cards.

Make a set of all the clubs and spades, and another set of hearts and diamonds. Shuffle well each set, and even let them be shuffled by the spectators. Then request a person to draw a card from one of the sets, and another person to draw one from the second set.

You now take a set in each hand, presenting them to the two persons, requesting them to replace the drawn cards. You must pretend to present to each person the set from which he drew his card, but in reality you present the red set to the person who drew the black card, and the black set to the person who drew the red card.

Each person having replaced his card, you get each set shuffled. Then you take them in hand, and by running them over you easily find the red card amongst the black, and the black card amongst the red.

Of course you will have prepared the sets beforehand, and take care to alter the arrangement as soon as possible after the trick. But you can prepare the pack in the presence of others without their detecting it. Distribute the cards by dealing according to the two colours; take them up, and having placed the red set a little projecting over the black, set them down, and, pretending to cut them, separate the sets.

6. Twenty cards being arranged upon a table, a person thinks of two, and you undertake to guess them.