Gambling, under one form or another, has always been a fashionable diversion at Court. Plutarch tells a story of Parysatis, mother of Cyrus, who played with the King, her husband, for the slave who had slain her son, and, as she excelled at playing a certain game with dice, she won him. History abounds in anecdotes of this kind, and we know how popular gambling was in the old days of the Roman Empire. Augustus, for instance, had the reputation of being fond of gambling, and Domitian, indeed, like most of the emperors, rarely passed a day without indulging in some gambling game.
Coming down to modern times, we find the practice more or less prevalent in most European Courts, having naturally met with greater patronage from some monarchs than others. Thus Alfonso of Castille tried to prevent gambling by founding orders of chivalry in which it was forbidden; and later, John of Castille, attempted to do the same by edict.
In spite of several lukewarm attempts to prevent it, gambling ever throve in France. Charles VI. lost one day five thousand livres to his brother, and in the reign of that monarch flourished the H?tel de{185} Nesle, which was notorious for its terrible gambling scandals, where—
“Maint gentilshommes tres haulx
Ont perdu armes et cheveaux,
Argent, honeuret seignourie.”
It is recorded how Philibert de Chalon, Prince d’Orange, who was in command at the siege of Florence, under the Emperor Charles V., actually gambled away the money which had been confided to him for the pay of the soldiers, and “was compelled, after a struggle of eleven months, to capitulate with those whom he might have forced to surrender.” But when so much encouragement was given to gambling by royalty, it is by no means surprising that the vice prevailed almost everywhere, and was not confined to any one country, especially when many of the French kings were said to patronise and applaud well-known cheats at the gaming-table.[82]
The so-called cards of Charles VI., which are now in the Bibliothèque du Roi of Paris, are in all probability the most ancient of any that are preserved in the various public collections of Europe. They are but seventeen, painted on a gold ground, and surrounded by a silver border, in which is a ribbon rolled spirally round done in points.
It was at Bourges, in the Chateau du Berri, that the game of piquet was invented, as tradition tells us, by Lahire, as a pastime for Charles VII.
In an old account-book of the monarchs of{186} France, we find that in 1392 there was paid about ￡8 of our present money for three packs; and the accounts of the jeweller to Queen Marie of Anjou contain this entry: “On the 1st of October, 1454, to William Bouchier, merchant, two games of cards and two hundred pins, delivered to Monsieur Charles of France, to play with, and amuse himself, five sals tournois.”
Henry IV. was an inveterate gambler, and, although not a skilful player, he is said to have been “greedy of gain, timid in high stakes, and ill-tempered when he lost.” In his reign gambling became the rage, and it appears from his Majesty’s letters to Sully that he sometimes played on credit, e.g. “I have lost at play 22,000 pistoles (220,000 livres); I beg you to pay them directly to Faideau, that he may distribute them to the persons to whom I owe them.”
“August 20, 1609.—Pay M. Edouard, Portuguese, 51,000 livres on account of what I owe him at play.”[83]
L’Estoile, referring to this period, says that an Italian named Pimentello gained more than a hundred thousand crowns in the Court circle, to which the King contributed 340,000 livres. It was this Pimentello who one day boasted to Sully of having frequently played with Henry IV., whereupon Sully indignantly replied: “By heavens! so you are the Italian blood-sucker who is every day winning the King’s money! You have fallen into the wrong{187} box, for I neither like nor wish to have anything to do with such fellows.”
At this remark Pimentello got warm, but Sully, giving him a push, added, “Go about your business, your infernal gibberish will not alter my resolve. Go!” There can be no doubt that this Pimentello was a discreditable character, for, in order to aid his dishonesty, he is said to have induced the dice-sellers in Paris to substitute loaded dice instead of fair ones.
But, as Henry disliked losing, those who played with him had either to lose their money, or to offend his Majesty by beating him. On one occasion the Duke of Savoy, in order to humour Henry, dissimulated his game, thus sacrificing about ￡28,000. And so great was this king’s passion for the gaming-table that once when it was whispered to him that a certain princess whom he loved was in danger of falling into other arms, he said to Bassompierre, one of his courtiers, “Take care of my money, and keep up the game, whilst I am absent on particular business.”
One day when Henry IV. was dining with Sully, the latter had brought in at the close of the repast cards and dice, together with two purses of 4000 pistoles each, one for the King, the other to lend to the lords of his suite. Whereupon his Majesty exclaimed: “Great master, come and let me embrace you, for I love you as you deserve. I feel so comfortable here that I shall sup and stay the night.” But it has been suggested that the whole affair was by the King’s order. At last, if we are to believe the following anecdote, he was cured of gambling.{188} After losing a large sum of money, he requested Sully to send him the amount, who hesitated for some time. Eventually, spreading it out before the King, he exclaimed, “There’s the sum.”
Henry fixed his eyes on the vast amount—sufficient to purchase Amiens from the Spaniards, who then held it—and then he sorrowfully said, “I am corrected; I will never again lose my money at gaming.”
A gaming quarrel was the cause of a slap in the face given by the Duc René to Louis XII., then Duc d’Orleans. This slap was the origin of a ligue which was termed “the mad war.” The resentment of the outraged prince was not appeased till he mounted the throne, when he uttered these memorable words: “A King of France does not avenge insults offered to a Duke of Orleans.” Similarly, on one occasion Casimir II., King of Poland, received a blow from a Polish subject, named Konarski, who had lost all he possessed in play. Thereupon he took to flight, and on being captured he was condemned to lose his head. But when brought before Casimir, his Majesty thus addressed him: “You, I perceive, are sorry for your fault; that is sufficient. Take your money again, and let us renounce gaming for ever.” And turning to his courtiers, the King added, “I am the only one to blame in this matter, for I ought not by my example to encourage a pernicious practice which may be the ruin of my nobility.”
Louis XIII. was adverse to gambling in any form, but Louis XIV. gave it every encourage{189}ment. Madame de Sevigné thus describes a gaming party at which she was present: “I went on Saturday with Villars to Versailles. I need not tell you of the Queen’s toilette, the mass, the dinner—you know it all; but at three o’clock the King rose from table, and he, the Queen, monsieur, madame, mademoiselle, all the princes and princesses, Madame de Montespan, all her suite, all the courtiers, all the ladies, in short, what we call the Court of France, were assembled in that beautiful apartment which you know.” She then describes how “a table of reversi (a compound of loo and commerce) gives a form to the crowd, and a place to every one. The King is next to Madame de Montespan, who deals; the Duke of Orleans, the Queen, and Madame de Soubise; Dangeau & Co., Langée & Co.; a thousand louis are poured out on the cloth—there are no such other counters.... There is always music going on, which has a very good effect; the King listens to the music, and chats to the ladies about him. At last, at six o’clock, they stop playing; they have no trouble in settling their reckonings; there are no counters—the lowest pools are five, six, seven hundred louis, the great ones a thousand, or twelve hundred. They put in five each at first, that makes one hundred, and the dealer puts in ten more—then they give four louis each to whoever has Quinola (the knave of hearts). Some pass, others play; but whenever you play without winning the pool, you must pay in sixteen to teach you how to play rashly; they talk altogether, and forever, and of everything.{190}”
This was the kind of amusement which characterised what Madame de Sevigné has termed “the iniquitous Court,” and well she might tremble at the idea of her son joining such a company. She says, “He tells me he is going to play with his young master—the Dauphin. I shudder at the thought. Four hundred pistoles are very easily lost.”
Numerous anecdotes have been handed down of the disputes which arose at Court owing to the high play. On one occasion, when excessive gambling was going on at Cardinal Mazarin’s, the Chevalier de Rohan lost a large sum to the King. It had been arranged that the money was to be paid only in louis d’ors, and the Chevalier, after counting out seven or eight hundred, proposed to pay the remainder in Spanish pistoles.
“But you promised me louis d’ors, and not pistoles,” said the King.
“Since your Majesty refuses them,” replied the Chevalier, “I don’t want them either,” and thereupon he flung them out of the window.
The King, annoyed, complained to the Cardinal, who promptly answered, “The Chevalier de Rohan has played the King, and you the Chevalier de Rohan.”
Quite recently at Paris a jeu de Loye, made for the amusement of Louis XIV., in marqueterie of ivory, ebony, and coloured woods, fetched ￡9; the Grand Monarque’s game of chance having realised a higher price than the curls sold at the same auction, and which had once adorned the mistress of his predecessor on the throne.{191}
At the death of Louis XIV., it is said that three-fourths of the nation thought of nothing but gambling, and incidentally may be noticed a little Court occurrence associated with Louis XV. At the royal card-table M. de Chauvelin was seized with a fit of apoplexy, of which he died. On seeing him fall, some one exclaimed, “M. de Chauvelin is ill!”
“Ill?” said the King, coldly turning round and looking at him; “he is dead. Take him away; spades are trumps, gentlemen!”
During the reign of Louis XVI. gambling “kept pace if it did not outstrip every other licentiousness of that epoch.” But Louis XVI. hated high play, and very often showed displeasure when the loss of large sums was mentioned. Bachaumont, in his Memoirs (tom. xii. p. 189), speaks of the singular precautions taken at play at his Court: “The bankers at the Queen’s table, in order to prevent the mistakes which daily happen, have obtained permission from his Majesty that, before beginning to play, the table shall be bordered by a ribbon entirely round it, and that no other money than that upon the cards beyond the ribbon shall be considered as staked.”[84]
But Marie Antoinette’s love of high play was almost a vice, and her gaming-table often witnessed scenes far from creditable to her sex or rank. Le Comte de Mercy informs us that the Emperor Joseph II.—not too severe a moralist—once sent a message to the Queen to the effect that “the{192} play at the Queen’s table at Fontainebleau was like that in a common gambling-house; people of all kinds were there, and mingled without decorum; the Comte d’Artois and the Duc de Chartres displayed there every day some fresh trait of folly, and great scandal was caused by the fact that several ladies cheated.... Those who held the bank arrived on the 30th of October; they acted as tellers all night and during the morning of the 31st in the apartments of the Princess de Lamballe. The Queen remained till five o’clock in the morning. In the evening the Queen directed the play to begin again, and continued playing until late in the morning of the 1st of November—All Saints’ Day.” It is not surprising that frivolity and dissipation of this kind were much commented upon, and gave to slanderers much scope for their attacks on her conduct. In order, also, to manage the high play at the Queen’s faro tables, it was necessary to have a banker provided with large sums of money.
Charles X. was an habitual whist-player, and on the eve of his deposition enjoyed his “rubber”; and when as an exile the ex-king was the guest of Cardinal Weld at Lulworth Castle, near Wareham, his principal occupation was whist. Later on, during his sojourn at Prague, at eight, after dinner, the whist-table was prepared, “where the tranquillity of the evening was not disturbed unless Charles found himself with an indifferent partner. He could lose a crown by his own fault with great reluctance, but to lose a trick by the stupidity of his partner was beyond his patience.” But his{193} equanimity was only temporarily ruffled, and then he was full of redundant apology.
Strange and pathetic is a well-known anecdote told of the great Napoleon. As “the prisoner of Europe” he arrived at his last dwelling-place on the 15th of October, and exactly one year before he had been playing at cards with his mother in his little saloon in the island of Elba; and as the illustrious lady was about to rise after losing the game, her imperial son said to her laughingly, “Pay your debts, madam, pay your debts!” Since that time, as Dr. Doran writes, “Napoleon had played a most serious game against a host of adversaries, and had been defeated. The winners called upon him to pay the penalty.”
But although Napoleon gambled with kingdoms, he did not do so with cards. Indeed, he despised gamblers, and it is said that when Las Casas in exile admitted that he had played, Napoleon declared that he was glad he had not known it, as gamblers were always ruined in his estimation. A story, however, has been told of his having sent Junot in 1796 to play in order to accumulate funds for the Italian campaign, a statement which there is every reason to disbelieve.
Catherine II. of Russia enjoyed a game of whist at ten roubles the rubber. And at one period she would admit the Chamberlain Tchertkof to make up the party, whose presence generally afforded some amusement. This individual, it is said, generally got into a rage, reproached her imperial majesty with not playing fair, and sometimes in{194} vexation he threw the cards in her face, an ............