Captain Crawley, that entertaining old writer on billiards, wrote the following article a good many years ago. It is only of historical interest to-day, as, happily, the game is now free of such undesirable attributes. Times have changed, it is no longer "the thing" to bet on billiards, and the man who wanted to have "something on" a game would not be accommodated in the vast majority of billiard rooms. This desirable change may safely be attributed to the fact that modern billiards, like chess and cricket, is recognised as a grand game well worth playing for its own sake which is degraded by becoming a medium for gambling. How different things were in the time of Captain Crawley may be judged from his own words: —
Billiards is an excellent game, but like other excellent things, it is apt to be abused by unprincipled men. Whenever you meet a smart-looking fellow in a public-room, who offers wagers against your making certain strokes which he can accomplish, treat him with civility, but don't bet with him. Learn all you can from him, but avoid giving him a chance of winning your money. After a while, when he finds that he cannot get half-a-crown out of you, he will, in very desperation, love of play, or vanity, show you a few good strokes. This is the almost invariable practice. Take any advice from him, but don't bet. A game or two with him, for "love," will, perhaps, not be bad practice. He may not be a "sharp," but if he makes his living by billiards, he is not a man to know intimately. I wish I could give you the names of some of these smart active young gentlemen. They are very well known, and generally carry a piece of chalk in their waistcoat-pockets, have a favourite cue, and call the marker by his Christian name.
Just a word in your ear. These clever fellows are sometimes well dressed, and pass for gentlemen. Indeed, some of them have had university educations, and are even members of good clubs. But, beyond a half-crown game or wager, they are dangerous. I remember a remarkably good-looking, pleasant-spoken, handsomely dressed chevalier d'Industrie, who was for years reckoned simply as an excellent player. But it was observed that only youngsters and new men played with him for high stakes. He had the run of half-a-dozen clubs, and nobody had anything to say against him. At last, one night Lord Nosoo introduced him to the billiard-room of the Megatherium, where I happened to be playing pool. He took a ball and played indifferently well, dividing a pool now and then, and betting an occasional half-crown.
When the pool was over, somebody challenged him for a game at billiards, and he played. I sat down and looked on, saying nothing. Before the match, was over the chevalier had won more pounds than I should like to name. He was certainly very lucky, and appeared always to improve in his play as the game went against him and the betting got higher. I was interested and watched intently, but could discover nothing unfair. I noticed, however, that he seldom or never played at the white ball, and that in each game he had the spot-ball, but I thought nothing of that, many players preferring to try a hazard or cannon off the red rather than pocket an opponent's ball.
And so the match went on, till there were a good many members looking at the game, and betting. At last, the chevalier's opponent, wishing to leave the room for a little while, requested me to finish the game for him. I consented, and played the next stroke with the ball left on the table by my friend. I had hardly played half-a-dozen strokes, when the secret of the chevalier's extraordinary success was revealed to me. He had changed the balls, substituting for the true white ball one which was faulty in its roll. This gave him a certain advantage over his opponent; and, being a good player, he won as often as he liked. Many gentlemen will remember how we exposed the lucky chevalier that night. A few years afterwards I saw him playing in a room in a Palais Royal hall. But he levanted directly he caught my eye, and left his game unfinished.
It is astonishing how many tricks and disreputable manoeuvres men who make a living by billiards will have recourse to. On another occasion I was present at a match in which a professor gave a good many points to a talented amateur. The betting was in favour of the amateur, but the professor won, principally by a series of gentle losing hazards in the middle pockets. Being a master of "strengths," he was able, every now and again, to place the red ball near a middle pocket, when he invariably made a good break. On playing afterwards on the same table, I fancied that the middle pockets "drew" somewhat—that is, the balls appeared to roll too easily into them. I had the cushions removed, and the cloth lifted, when, as I suspected, I found that the slate had been slightly scraped away, and lowered from the centre of the table to each pocket. In this case the marker must have been a party to the swindle. Albert Smith refers to this incident in one of his pleasantly-written sketches.