Light Come, Light Go: Gambling—Gamesters—Wagers—The Turf
Part 21
Almost the last of the few survivors of this expedition also described to the present writer the marvellous alteration which he found on his next visit to the Principality some six years later. The first Casino had then been built by M. Blanc, and a small Hôtel de Paris stood where the gigantic modern one stands to-day. M. Blanc, in addition to presiding over the rooms, was in supreme command of the hotel, which was managed on the most liberal principles, bills being never sent in unless they were asked for. Since those days the hotel has been much enlarged and altered. It is now being entirely rebuilt on a palatial scale.
When visitors of any standing whatever were about to depart, M. Blanc himself would be present to wish them good-bye, and also to inquire whether they might not like a thousand francs for the expenses of their journey, adding that this could be refunded on their next visit, or sent him at their convenience.
In 1864, except the hotel, there were scarcely any houses in Monte Carlo itself, and most of the visitors had to live on the other side of the Bay in the old town. As the journey from Nice by road took four hours, an abominable and, it was said, unseaworthy, small white steamer, the _Palmaria_ (probably the best that could be got), had been chartered by M. Blanc to convey visitors from Nice. This vessel anchored beneath the Castle rock, where its passengers were landed in boats, being met by four-horse omnibuses which plied gratis between the rock and the Casino.
The _Palmaria_ made two journeys from Nice a day. If the weather was calm and nothing went wrong, the passage took something like an hour and a quarter. It was a curious sight to see visitors landing in the highest spirits for a flutter, most of them to return in the evening to Nice, weary and sea-sick, without a penny to take a cab to their hotel.
In the early days of Monte Carlo there were two zeroes, and the inevitable result was that the _Palmaria's_ evening cargo was usually largely composed of what were facetiously called "empty bottles."
The crowd which thronged to the tables was of a heterogeneous description and not at all smart. There were a number of enterprising damsels in pork-pie hats and a considerable sprinkling of raffish Englishmen, looking as if they had seen better days and were likely to see worse.
Monte Carlo, though a tiny place, already bore evidences of its future expansion. An air of prosperity pervaded it, and the inhabitants had lost the air of hopeless poverty which was formerly such a characteristic of the Principality of Monaco.
In the early days of the Casino not much was heard of its existence, the truth being that M. Blanc, after his experiences at Homburg, feared lest European public opinion might demand the abolition of the tables were their existence to be too prominently thrust before it. In consequence of this as little attention as possible was drawn to the gambling which, if alluded to in the Press at all, was merely mentioned as one of the minor attractions. Knowing the sensitiveness of M. Blanc with regard to publicity, unscrupulous journalists traded upon it, demanding bribes to keep silence, whilst ephemeral newspapers, containing sensational accounts of suicides of ruined gamblers, were published solely in order to extort blackmail.
As time went on, however, Monte Carlo began to be regarded as an established institution, and many visitors took to coming there year after year.
The development of the Riviera as a pleasure-resort steadily proceeded, and at the present time the coast from Genoa to Marseilles is an almost unbroken line of pleasure-resorts filled with villas, not a few veritable palaces, all of which owe their existence to the advent of M. Blanc with his roulette and trente-et-quarante. Abuse gambling as you may, it has in this instance beyond all question brought wealth and prosperity to the inhabitants--not to the rich, for there were no rich--but to the people of the soil, born and bred along this beautiful coast-line lapped by the azure waters of the Mediterranean.
It was after M. Blanc's death in the early 'seventies that the Casino was first enlarged, and the theatre built by M. Garnier. From time to time further additions have been made--an entirely new gambling-room was added only a few years ago, and at the present moment another is being built.
Monte Carlo itself, which even in the 'eighties was quite a little place, has now become a regular town with streets stretching up along the mountain side almost up to the gigantic hotel, which is now such a conspicuous feature of the Principality.
The earthquake of 1887, though it ruined the season of that year, was probably beneficial to the prosperity of Monte Carlo, for it brought the name of the place prominently before the public eye. Shortly after that date the vast crowds which now throng to the place began to make their appearance, and Monaco quite changed its character. New hotels were opened and numbers of houses built, whilst Monte Carlo quite lost its air of reposeful peace and became a sort of cosmopolitan pleasure-town swarming with excursionists. Before this the Casino used to shut at eleven, after which hour every one went to bed, there being no night cafés to go to such as exist to-day.
From about 1882 to 1890 was perhaps the best day of the Principality from a social point of view, for at that time it was the resort of a number of the most distinguished and fashionable people in Europe. All the sporting characters of the day made a point of paying a yearly visit to Monte Carlo--most of them are gone now, including Mr Sam Lewis, who always played in maximums with varying success.
Another well-known figure was Captain Carlton Blythe, who is still alive. He was very successful at trente-et-quarante, where his operations were conducted in a most methodical manner. It was his practice to stake only when sequences were the order of the day. By means of men told off to watch the tables, he was kept informed of this, being sometimes sent for even when not in the Casino. His stakes were high, generally about two thousand francs, which, if won, were increased to six thousand, the next being a maximum (12,000 francs), which was left on till the termination of the run. At times this cheery devotee of coaching was extraordinarily lucky; it is said that he once won as much as £10,000 during a deal.
I believe, however, that in the end this system, like so many others, broke down.
The authorities of the Casino were then rather more particular than at present as to the costume of visitors, and in many cases refused to grant cards of admission to people of the most indisputable respectability on account of their dress not being in conformity with the regulations which they laid down.
On one occasion, indeed, the late Lord and Lady Salisbury, who lived close by at Beaulieu, having been seized with a fancy to look into the rooms, presented themselves at the entrance, where cards of entrée are issued either for the day or longer periods.
They were both dressed in thoroughly country clothes which the official in command viewed with no kindly eye, as his offhand manner showed. When, however, the visitors, in accordance with the regulations, gave their names, he was convulsed with laughter, and at once told the distinguished couple to go about their business and not try their jokes upon him.
The Prime Minister and his wife, who were rather amused at the incident, accordingly retired. Some time afterwards the matter reached the ears of the Administration, who, as a sort of compensation, sent a box at the theatre, but no very profound apology was made. The great gambling monopoly is no respecter of persons, and in the Casino, as on the Turf, complete equality prevails.
In the same year, 1892, a curious incident occurred at a trente-et-quarante table. An individual having staked a maximum on the black, red won. He immediately snatched up his (or rather the bank's) notes from the table and ejaculating, "_C'est la dot de ma fille_," strode out of the rooms before any one quite realised what had happened. For some reason or other he was not followed and got clear away.
Many rich Englishmen annually found at Monte Carlo relaxation and rest from lives of arduous work in the city; some of these regarded play much as sportsmen do shooting, hunting, or yachting.
One of these, now dead, said to the writer: "I have regularly taken a villa here for years, and with hardly an exception have lost the sum which I set apart for gaming every year; but I do not regret it. The amount of amusement which I have obtained has been well worth the money. I might, it is true, have kept a yacht which I should have hated, or taken a shooting which would have been little to my taste. I might, in fact, have spent the money in various ways which would have thoroughly bored me--on the whole I am well content."
Another well-known high player, who from time to time has lost large sums at Monte Carlo, once declared that he considered the money well invested. "Many a large landowner," said he, "is not as lucky as I have been, for he is obliged to spend a large sum every year on the upkeep of his estate for which he obtains nothing in return. I, at least, have had a great deal of amusement."
To this it may be objected that the money which goes into the coffers of the Casino benefits no one--but this is not strictly true, for the shares are held by all sorts of people, who draw their profits in the same way as from any industrial enterprise.
In the 'eighties there were many less hotels than at present and not a great number of villas, whilst the Café de Paris, which has since been rebuilt in an enlarged form, was about the only restaurant apart from the dining-rooms in the hotels. The Gallery, now filled with shops, which is such a favourite morning resort, had not yet come into existence, and except the admirable band in the Casino (which gave two performances a day, free) there was little music in Monte Carlo--a spot which now rings from morning till late at night with the strains of Tzigane bands.
After the tables were closed--at eleven--there were no amusements at all, and, instead of sitting up half the night, every one went to bed--contentedly or discontentedly, as they had won or lost.
The gambling-rooms were much quieter in those days, the flocks of German excursionists having not yet arrived. Many of these visitors, as a rule somewhat undesirable from a decorative point of view, are divided up into little coteries or bands, each of which elects a leader who is entrusted with such funds as the party is desirous of risking at the tables, where the leader alone stakes for all, winnings or losings being divided in proportionate shares.
Of late years the crowds round the gambling-tables have increased to such an extent that except in the early morning or during dinner-time it is impossible to make certain of obtaining a seat. Formerly two or three old men of solemn aspect were always to be found sitting at the trente-et-quarante marking down the run of the game, and on a louis being unostentatiously slipped into their hand they would at once yield up their seat. Of late years, however, they are no longer to be seen, the Administration having banished them from the Casino, much to the discomfort of habitual players desirous of risking substantial sums under comfortable conditions. In old days far more attention was paid in a great many other small ways to visitors who had the appearance of belonging to the upper strata of society. To these the croupiers and other officials made a point of being especially obliging and polite.
The authorities of the Casino, however, seem now to have decided on a more democratic policy, no favour being shown to any one. From a financial point of view this is probably not unsound, a vast number of small players, who drop a certain amount of five-franc pieces and then depart to make way for others, being probably more profitable to the bank than a few heavy gamblers, some of whom may hit it very severely.
It is more than likely that scarcely one in fifty of the individuals who sit with a pile of silver beside the roulette wheel goes away a winner, whereas amongst the high gamblers at trente-et-quarante success is not so rare as is usually supposed. The proof of what has been stated was furnished by the brief existence of the "Cercle Privé"--a new gaming-room which for a short time was highly appreciated by frequenters of Monte Carlo some seven or eight years ago.
The "Cercle Privé" was open only at night in a room upstairs, and men alone enjoyed the privilege of being allowed to play there. There were four tables, three trente-et-quarante and one roulette, a small bar where refreshments could be obtained, smoking was permitted, and the tables, which did not commence operations till the ones downstairs had closed, were kept going very late.
From the point of view of players this innovation was highly successful; for, owing to the comparatively small number of persons who frequented the "Cercle Privé," greater comfort prevailed than downstairs, whilst the conditions in general were far more conducive to calculated and calm speculation.
A large proportion of the frequenters were well known to one another, and the whole thing somewhat resembled a club, the members of which were leagued together against the bank.
Runs, intermittencies, and other tendencies of chance at certain tables could be carefully noted; occasionally there would be no play at all at one table, the whole crowd staking on a run at another; as the room was small, anything of the sort soon reached the ears of every one. Play as a rule was high, and the players, for the most part, were well used to gambling. The results to the bank were most disastrous. On a certain evening it lost more than had ever before been lost in one day by the Casino, and at the end of the year the accounts of the "Cercle Privé" proved anything but an agreeable study for the officials supervising the finances of the great gambling monopoly.
The next year it was closed, and there has since been no inclination on the part of the authorities to repeat what was to them a very unprofitable speculation.
Amongst various causes which in this instance operated to the detriment of the bank was the difficulty, generally amounting to impossibility, of players obtaining a further supply of money when what they had in their pockets had run out. At such a late hour, when the Bank was closed and the _caisse_ of most hotels shut up, no matter how rich a man might be, he could not obtain any considerable amount of cash. Consequently, should he lose what he had brought with him, he was reduced to playing with such modest sums as could be borrowed from friends, who naturally could not be expected to make any substantial advance, as any moment they themselves might be in a similar predicament.
The bank, on the other hand, was equipped with ample funds, and its loss--unlike those of the players, which, after a certain point, were limited by necessity--often extended into a very large figure; consequently, when it was in good luck, it only won a comparatively moderate amount, and when in bad lost very heavily.
Another reason for the ill-success of the bank was that the policy pursued in the large rooms downstairs had in the case of the "Cercle Privé" been exactly reversed. In the former there have always been many more roulette tables than tables devoted to trente-et-quarante--upstairs there was only one roulette table as a counter-attraction to the three devoted to the rival game.
Trente-et-quarante is mathematically one of the most favourable of games at which a gambler can play, the percentage against him produced by the _refait_ being only 1·28 per cent.
Roulette, on the other hand, is, owing to the zero, highly advantageous to the banker.
The bank's percentage on all-round play at the tables is more than one-seventy-fourth of all the figures staked; the actual winnings of the bank being about one-sixtieth part of all the money actually placed on the board. At the present time the bank's winnings (gross) are, roughly, £1,200,000 per annum.
A large proportion of the gains of the Monte Carlo bank is derived from small players who enter the rooms with the deliberate intention of either making a certain sum or losing what they have in their pockets; these form, as it were, the rank and file of the gambling army which is constantly being decimated by the Casino, and the almost total absence of such an element in the room upstairs reduced the play to a duel between the bank and a number of persons, the majority of whom were, more or less, capitalists and who, as often as not, went home immediately after bringing off one big and successful coup.
The gaming-rooms in the Casino at Monte Carlo have often been described as a hot-bed of vice and debauchery, the tables surrounded by a seething crowd of excited figures whose countenances betray the intense emotions which the vitiating effects of play arouse. "Cries of triumph, imprecations, moans and sobs are heard on every side." In certain highly coloured accounts, suicide is spoken of as being an ordinary occurrence, the crowd making way without comment for the passage of the corpse of some unfortunate gambler who, at the end of his tether, has blown out his brains.
All this is purely fanciful, and conveys no idea whatever of the real state of affairs prevailing in the rooms, where calm and good order invariably reign. There exists, indeed, an almost religious hush in the halls of this great Temple of Chance. After dinner, and towards the time of close of play, the scene, it is true, becomes more animated, but, as a rule, the only sounds heard are those connected with the games played. What conversation there is is almost exclusively devoted to short comments on such matters as the lack or abundance of runs on one particular colour, the persistent recurrence of certain numbers, the amount of winnings or losings of some well-known player, or the like; people rarely speak, when at the table, of their own vicissitudes in the battle with chance.
The real gamblers, that is to say, those to whom speculation is the very breath of life, speak least of all, their whole mind being concentrated upon the system or method of staking which it is generally their practice to adopt. They sit with unmoved faces, which appear neither elated by victory nor depressed by defeat.
A well-known Monte Carlo type--more abundant perhaps in the past than to-day--is the _beau joueur_, the man who plays to the gallery and, let it be added, pays handsomely for his performance. Certain and inevitable ruin is the fate of these individuals, who sacrifice themselves to the spirit of vanity. As a rule, the winnings or losings of such people are a great subject of conversation and discussion amongst the frequenters of the tables--they are said to have either won or lost enormous sums--to be at the end of their tether, or to have an enormous fortune behind them. Their fame, however, is of no enduring kind, being at best a nine days' wonder. They are soon forgotten, and their departure, leaving only too often their money in the vaults of the Casino, and an unpaid bill at their hotel, excites not even passing comment from the crowd of spectators whose approving gaze and fleeting admiration has been so dearly bought.
Some old players remain watching the game for a considerable space of time without risking a stake at all, till the moment arrives when either superstition or calculation prompts them to take the first steps in the campaign. Many of these come provided with memorandum books filled with column after column of figures, records of past runs on colours, and recurring sequences of numbers carefully inscribed as a guide to fathoming the capricious movements of fortune.
Others bring queer little mechanical contrivances, which are manipulated in a manner to show the correspondence between certain chances; whilst yet another section quite frankly display all sorts of fetishes, to some of which they attach a quite serious importance. A piece of the rope which has been used by a hangman is a fetish reputed to be an almost certain passport to good luck. The experience of the present writer with a grim relic of this kind did not, however, give any support to such a belief. As a great favour he was once given a small hempen souvenir by a friend, and armed with the precious talisman he betook himself to a trente-et-quarante table, where a good seat was secured. From the very first, however, it was evident that the gruesome charm was not exercising its occult influence in a direction favourable to its new, and perhaps somewhat sceptical, possessor. When runs were sought for, alternates appeared, and vice versa. _Refaits_ were dealt with unnatural frequency; in fact, disaster followed disaster in an unbroken sequence, with the result that the little bit of rope was all that the player had in his pocket as he somewhat disconsolately strode out of the rooms, rather inclined to wish that the hempen relic had been utilised for its original purpose around the neck of its donor.
Gamblers are generally most superstitious folk and swayed by all sorts of whimsical ideas.
Years ago an old lady used to give the authorities a good deal of trouble by repeatedly bringing a small portion of ham into the rooms, and, whilst at play, cutting off slices and eating them. For some reason or other she had the fixed idea that, in her case, ham-eating propitiated fortune.
The rules of the Casino naturally forbid any proceeding of such a kind in the rooms, and whenever the ham was produced the _chef de partie_ was obliged to point this out. The old lady in question, who was a well-known character, was, however, very rich, and, being a constant and high player, any drastic action would naturally have been disadvantageous to the best interests of the bank. Some compromise was, therefore, eventually arranged, by which the amount of ham consumed was so infinitesimal as to pass almost unnoticed by the general public.
Certain players attach considerable importance to the numbers inscribed upon the check handed to them by the attendants who look after cloaks and sticks. Now and then, as must of necessity happen in the ordinary course of events, an individual succeeds in winning a good stake by backing a number at roulette corresponding with that on his wooden ticket; more often, however, he fails, and then proceeds to work out all sorts of combinations of numbers, adding, subtracting and dividing, as the fancy seizes him.
The number of the sleeping-berth which has carried the visitor from Paris is also often chosen, as is that of his bedroom in the hotel. The date of a birthday, the sum total of the numbers on a watch, or of the figures on a coin, the number of cigarettes left in a case, or of coins in the pocket, and other similar trifles are all noted with intense interest by a certain class of player, eager for any clue which they believe may assist them in their struggle to achieve success.
It used, at one time, to be said at Monte Carlo that the clergyman of the English Church there never gave out any hymns under number thirty-six, as he had discovered that some of his congregation had made a practice of carefully noting down the numbers with a view to backing them at roulette. Most players, even the least superstitious, have some special lucky number of their own, which they make a point of following. Occasionally it turns up two or three times in succession, which, of course, further confirms them in constantly backing it, and, more often than not, losing far more than they have won.
The present writer's experiences in this direction have not been of an encouraging nature.