But his son, Edward II., got into disrepute by playing at chuck-farthing, or cross and pile, which was held to be a very unkingly diversion, “and sufficient to disgust the warlike peers who had been accustomed to rally round the victorious banner of his father.” In one of his wardrobe accounts these entries occur: “Item—paid to Henry, the King’s barber, for money which he lent to the King to play at cross and pile, five shillings. Item—paid to Pires Barnard, usher of the King’s chamber, money which he lent the King, and which he lost at cross and pile to Monsieur Robert Wattewille, eight-pence.”[1]
De Foix, on hearing that the Queen of Scots had resolved on the marriage with her cousin Darnley, went to Elizabeth that he might discuss the matter. He found her at chess, and, profiting by the opportunity of discussing the matter, he said: “This game is an image of the words and deeds of men. If, for example, we lose a pawn, it seems but a small matter; nevertheless, the loss often draws after it that of the whole game.”
The Queen replied, “I understand you. Darnley is but a pawn, but may well checkmate me if he be promoted.”
Charles I. was occupied, it is said, at chess when he was informed of the final resolution of the Scots to sell him to the Parliament; but he was so little discomposed by this intelligence that he continued the game in no way disconcerted. A similar anecdote is told of John Frederick, Elector of Saxony, who, having been taken prisoner by Charles V., was condemned to death—a decree which was intimated to him while at chess with Ernest of Brunswick, his fellow-prisoner. But after a short pause he challenged his antagonist to finish the game, played with his usual attention, and expressed his satisfaction at winning. And coming down to the reign of her late Majesty, Queen Victoria, it is said she was fond of most games, enjoying chess or draughts, which in her later days she exchanged for patience. When more actively inclined she would play at ball or battledore and shuttle-cock with the ladies of the Court, a practice which she continued till middle life.
As a warning against the perilous habit of playing chess with a wife, it is related of Ferrand, Count of Flanders, that, having constantly defeated the Countess, she conceived a hatred against him, which reached such a height that when the unfortunate Count was taken prisoner at the battle of Bouvines, she suffered him to remain a long time in prison, although, according to common report, she might easily have procured his release.
It was while playing at chess with a knight, nicknamed the “King of Love,” that James I. of Scotland referred to a prophecy that a king should die that year, and remarked to his playmate, “There are no kings in Scotland but you and I. I shall take good care of myself, and I counsel you to do the same.”
Don John of Austria had a room in his palace in which there was a chequered pavement of black and white marble, upon which living men attired in varied costumes moved under his direction according to the laws of chess. It is also related of a Duke of Weimar that he had squares of black and white marble, on which he played at chess with red soldiers.
Although Louis XIII. firmly prohibited all games of chance at Court, he had so strong an affection for chess that he rarely lost an opportunity of playing a game in his coach whenever he went abroad. In this respect he was very different to Louis IX., who forbade any of his officers to play at dice or at chess; and report goes that his anger on one occasion, at finding the Duke of Anjou engaged in a move of chess, knew no bounds.
Henry III. of France was passionately fond of the childish game bilboquet or “cup and ball,” which, it is said, he used to play even when walking in the street; and piquet is commonly reported to have derived its name from that of its inventor, who contrived it to amuse Charles VI. of France.
The poor imbecile Charles II. of Spain did his best to amuse his young wife Marie Louise of Orleans, but not with much effect. He would play with her at “jouchets,” which appears to have been an amusement of the nature of that known as “spills,” for three or four hours a day—“a game,” writes Madame de Villars, “at which one might lose a pistole during all that time par malheur extraordinaire.”