a peculiarly attractive parasol caught his eye as he was strolling
amongst the shops; so he went in and inquired the price, which was
twenty marks. The founder of the great gaming establishment was a
careful man, and it seemed to him that to pay so much for a parasol
was extravagant. Nevertheless, he ordered it to be put aside for him,
saying that he would call and pay for it later.
On his way to the Casino the thought suddenly struck him: "To win
twenty marks in the rooms is quite easy--numbers of people do it,
but they don't stop; which is the reason I make so much money. Why
shouldn't I win the price of this parasol--make my twenty marks and
walk out?"
Walking up to a trente-et-quarante table and unobtrusively stationing
himself behind a group of players, M. Blanc furtively slipped twenty
marks on the red--black won. Forty marks on the red--black again won.
Eighty marks on the black--red won. He now became excited and, the
money he had in his pocket being exhausted, edged towards an astonished
_chef de partie_, to whom he was, of course, well-known, and instructed
him to place one hundred and sixty marks on red. The croupier dealt
the cards, and announced that red had lost. By this time every one
had realised that M. Blanc was staking against his own tables, and the
whole room flocked to see such an extraordinary sight. The croupiers
concluded that their chief had gone mad, for he stood looking fixedly
at the cards, entirely absorbed in the effort to recover his losses and
win the price of the parasol. To make a long story short, he continued
to stake till he had lost about £1000, when of a sudden he realised the
situation and rushed out of the rooms. He was, of course, considerably
chaffed about this exploit, which was said to have been the only
occasion on which he had been known to play. For many a long day
afterwards, he used regretfully to say: "That was the dearest parasol I
ever bought in my life."
M. Blanc, who was more assailed than any other banker, was once nearly
made the victim of a stratagem, which might have entailed serious
results. A scoundrel contrived to get into the "Konversationhaus" by
night, and blocked up all the low numbers in the roulette machine
in such a manner that the ball, on falling in, must inevitably leap
out again. On the next day he and his accomplices played and netted
a large sum by backing the high numbers. They carried on the game
for two or three days, but were fortunately overheard by a detective
while quarrelling about the division of their plunder in the gardens
behind the establishment. They were arrested and the money recovered.
A very dangerous design was also formed against M. Blanc by one of
his croupiers, who, being discontented with his lot, determined to
make his fortune at one _coup_. The plan he contrived was this. He
procured a pack of prearranged cards, which he concealed in his hat,
and when it came to his turn to deal he intended to drop the bank
cards into his _chapeau_ and cleverly substitute the others; but this
artfully-concocted scheme was upset by one of his confederates who
considered that he might make a better and safer thing of it by telling
M. Blanc beforehand.
A great attack was once made by a Belgian syndicate upon the tables at
Homburg, and for a time had some appearance of ultimate success. In the
end, however, M. Blanc emerged triumphant from the contest, which is
mentioned by Thackeray in the _Kickleburys on the Rhine_.
It was at Homburg that the celebrated Garcia once created an enormous
sensation by asking the bank to double the limit of 12,000 francs.
According to one account a meeting of the Directors was hastily
summoned by M. Blanc, who was in favour of letting Garcia have his way;
but it was finally decided that no alteration should be made. Another
version is that M. Blanc consented to double the limit if Garcia would
play sitting down and not standing up, the veteran banker's opinion
being that any one standing up was much more likely to depart with
winnings than a player seated at the table. Garcia accordingly sat
down, and though at first very unlucky, eventually rose a winner.
Garcia is said to have come to Germany with two thousand francs--his
whole fortune--in search of employment. Whilst at Frankfort he
determined to go and try his luck at the Homburg tables, and
being fortunate enough to get on several runs of his favourite
colour--red--he won about £20,000 in three weeks. An Englishman, it is
said, was so convinced that the runs on red must end, that he watched
for what he deemed a propitious moment and began staking maximums
on black against Garcia, with the result that in a few days he left
Homburg without a penny.
Garcia continued to play on after his rival's defeat, and though at
one moment he was reduced to a capital of six thousand francs, he
retrieved his fortunes by a run of fourteen reds, and eventually left
Homburg with some £50,000--some say more. He now declared that he was
determined never to play again; but this resolution was soon broken,
for within a couple of years he was trying to break the bank at Baden.
Black turned up too often for him, however, and he lost heavily.
He then thought he would try Homburg again, and was there eventually
reduced to beggary after a few months' play. This gambler subsequently
figured in a most unsavoury card scandal which took place in Paris in
February 1863 at the house of Madame Julia Barucci. This lady, who
was young and attractive, was always surrounded by a large circle of
admirers, and the party which she gave to celebrate her first evening
in a new abode was therefore particularly animated, about thirty
guests being present, amongst whom was Signor Calzado, the well-known
manager of a Paris theatre. Calzado, it should be said, was disliked
by the party generally--Garcia alone being on terms of intimacy with
him--not only because he was a gamester, but probably because he had
the reputation of being a card-sharper, which he was, and a very bold
and original one too. (Calzado once went to Havana and bought up every
pack of cards in the place, having previously freighted a vessel
with marked playing-cards, which arrived just in time to supply the
dealers, whose stocks were completely exhausted. With the cards he had
prepared and imported, Calzado played incessantly, and for high stakes,
being, as an inevitable result, a constant and heavy winner.) The most
popular guest was Signor Miranda, Gentleman of the Queen of Spain's
household, a constant and honourable gamester, well-known as being
capable of losing large sums. He came with about 100,000 francs in his
pocket. As soon as possible Garcia arranged a rouge-et-noir table,
at which his countrymen, Calzado and Miranda, took their places, the
latter soon winning 30,000 francs. After supper baccarat was proposed;
whereupon Garcia absented himself from the room for half an hour under
the pretext of wishing to smoke a cigar in the air. Retiring into a
private chamber, he disposed about his person several packs of cards
which he had brought with him, and then returning to the gaming-table
began to play for high stakes. His success was extraordinary, and in a
short time he won 140,000 francs, chiefly from Signor Miranda. Calzado,
who followed Garcia's lead, also won a large sum. The extraordinary
good luck of Garcia, and the marvellous character of the cards which
he held, aroused the astonishment of the players as well as the
suspicions of those looking on, and it was at length perceived that
some of the cards in Garcia's hand were of a different design from that
of the packs provided by the hostess. He was charged with foul play;
whereupon, somewhat confused, he admitted having introduced cards of
his own, though stoutly maintaining that he had played fairly, and
had brought certain packs from his club merely because they always
proved lucky cards to him, which in this instance was certainly true.
He offered as a matter of courtesy and as a favour, being, as he said,
desirous of avoiding a scandal, to refund his winnings, if the whole
affair were hushed up. At the same time he produced the sum of 50,000
francs; but those whom he had cheated were not to be tricked into
accepting a third part of their losses in place of the whole, and an
extraordinary scene followed. Seeing that his position was desperate,
and fearful lest he should be forcibly despoiled of his ill-gotten
winnings, Garcia tried to escape. Finding the door bolted, he rushed
all over the house, finally hiding himself in a corner of an obscure
room, from which he was chased by his amazed pursuers, who seized him
and roughly stripped him of all the money in his possession. It was now
the turn of Calzado, who was then asked to display the contents of his
pockets, or suffer himself to be searched. He refused to do either, but
stealthily allowed a roll of bank-notes, to the value of 16,000 francs,
to slip down his trousers and fall on the floor. The roll was picked
up and handed to him, but he denied all knowledge of it. Eventually
the brother cheats were permitted to leave the house, but after their
departure it was reckoned that, in spite of everything, they had
carried with them at least 40,000 francs.
Garcia and Calzado were both tried for swindling. The former appeared
in person; Calzado, however, had fled. Both were convicted of
malpractices, Garcia being sentenced to five years' and Calzado to
thirteen months' imprisonment, in addition to fines of 3000 francs
each. They were also ordered to pay jointly 31,000 francs to Miranda.
The hostess, Madame Barucci, escaped punishment, but was placed under
strict police supervision, lest she should again allow prohibited games
to be played in her house. Garcia died in great misery about 1881.
In 1872 the gambling-establishment at Homburg became a thing of
the past. A great number of the townspeople of that resort were
shareholders, and all, more or less, derived some profit direct or
indirect from the play. During the war between Austria and Prussia
they began to be somewhat perturbed, and on their annexation to the
latter country, they hoped against hope that Bismarck, whatever he
might do with kings, would leave what to them was far more important
than dynasties and kingdoms--the bank--alone.
In 1867, however, the blow fell, and the directors of the
gambling-rooms, summoned to appear before the Governor, were informed
that all play was to cease in 1872.
It should be added that an arrangement of a not unfair kind protected
the interests of the shareholders.
[Illustration: GAMBLING AT HOMBURG.
Drawn by the late G.A. Sala. (_Impasse_ should of course be _Impair_.)]
During these last days of play at Homburg a great crowd had been coming
in, but still the tables were not inconveniently crowded, and people
were able to stake their money with ease though without comfort. There
was, however, a good deal of pilfering and snatching of money, which
had always been rather a feature at this resort, shrill-tongued harpies
being apt to pounce on the couple of five-franc pieces just won by any
simple Englishman ignorant of the German tongue. As the end approached
the usual high play still prevailed, but the administration was a
good deal disturbed by the advent of workmen, shopmen, and others,
a very different class of people from their aristocratic clients of
the summer season. These new visitors were sturdy, brutal customers,
who became frenzied if they lost a florin, and seemed not unlikely
to revenge themselves by some lawless raid. This very unlucrative
crowd continued to increase, and it became known that on the last
two days the forces would be recruited by yet larger bands. The
administration, wisely reckoning that the result might be a general
riot organised for purposes of plunder, took measures to avert such a
crowning catastrophe. On the Sunday, then, while numbers of speculative
individuals at Frankfort and other towns were arranging for one grand
final expedition, and were looking forward to being in at the death,
it was determined to end play for ever suddenly and without notice.
Before five o'clock this had been done, much to the indignant surprise
of the new arrivals, and the rage and fury of the less scrupulous.
This, perhaps, was no undignified end; and Homburg, from a gambling
point of view, may be said to have "died game." The administration
maintained its honeyed, courteous phrases to the last, and on the
Monday stuck little proclamations all over the walls, to the effect
that the "Administration begged to inform _la société_ that there would
be no play on the 30th and 31st inst. Signed: The Kurhaus Direction."
Nevertheless on the back sheet of the Belgian papers was a huge
advertisement proclaiming to all whom it concerned that there would be
play to the last day of the month. Such an oversight was scarcely fair
to the friends and admirers of the tables, some of whom travelled from
a great distance to bid a final adieu to the Halls of Chance.
The appearance of the gambling-house on the day after the cessation
of play was indescribable, resembling a badly-set scene by daylight.
Numbers of charwomen and men-servants hung about in groups; officials,
like those of a bankrupt hotel, went about with keys; chairs were piled
on the long gaming-tables by irreverent hands; everything looked as
though there was going to be a sale by auction. The ball-room, however,
still had its chairs all set out in order, as if company were expected,
whilst the orchestra played in the gardens, which already presented a
neglected air. Even the theatre looked shabby, though behind the frame
of wire network was to be read the announcement of the last--the very
last in all truth--appearance of the "Diva Patti" in _La Sonnambula_.
Ems was another gambling resort. This was essentially a rendezvous
of all the pleasure-loving aristocracy and fashionable financiers of
the day--unlike Wiesbaden and Homburg, which were rather the chosen
battle-fields of well-known and seasoned gamblers.
A Spaniard at Ems made a very comfortable living by a method of playing
he had invented. He placed three louis d'or on the manque, which
contains all the numbers to eighteen, and two louis on the last series
of twelve; that is, from twenty-four to thirty-six. Thus he had only
six numbers and two zeroes against him. If manque gained, he won three
louis and lost two; if a number in the last twelve came up, he won four
and lost three; but a continuation of zeroes would have ruined his
calculation. Russians in particular were very fond of Ems. Many played
very high, and a good deal of private gambling was done there on the
quiet.
At Geneva in the 'sixties trente-et-quarante was somewhat furtively
played in a _Cercle des Étrangers_. Roulette, however, was not allowed.
The authorities perhaps feared that the noise of the little ball flying
round on its course to a numbered compartment might awaken Calvin from
the quiet of his tomb.
There was once what was practically a regular gaming-house on English
soil. This was in the 'fifties, when mild roulette was played on
the island of Heligoland. A miniature roulette-table there was much
frequented by joyous Israelites and English officers from the mainland.
In 1856, however, an outraged English tourist wrote a furious letter
to _The Times_, complaining of such horrors existing under the British
flag. He denounced the scandalous desecration of the English name, and
so forth; and in consequence the Governor issued an edict against the
roulette. Play, however, on a diminutive scale continued there some
time longer.
The closing of the gaming-tables in Germany was the cause of many
rumours as to the future of gambling enterprise. The Valley of
Andorra in the Pyrenees was said to have been selected by some French
speculators as the scene of their operations for the ensuing year, a
well-known financier being declared to have obtained a monopoly of
theatres, hotels, casinos, railways, and almost everything else that
this valley lacked and might be supposed to want. There was also a
rumour that efforts were being made to start tables at St. Moritz, in
Switzerland, very tempting offers having been made to the authorities.
These anticipations were not, however, realised, and Monte Carlo
remains the only regular public gaming-place in Europe, though
intermittent public gambling has been tolerated at certain Belgian
pleasure-resorts, notably at Ostend. Two or three years ago public
gaming was altogether prohibited there, but it now appears to flourish
much as before. It is almost superfluous to add that when it was
announced that the Belgian authorities had determined to suppress
all public play there was much enthusiastic congratulation from this
country. The usual time-worn phrases as to the demoralising effects
of gambling were unctuously presented to a public whose conscience,
it was declared, had too long been outraged by the proximity of
such a dangerous temptation; and the Belgians were told that they
might anticipate reaping a golden harvest as the result of the
high-principled attitude which had been adopted, for the English
would now be able to visit their pleasure-resorts without fear of
contamination.
A large number of the Ostend shopkeepers really believed that the
suppression of play would bring more foreign money into their pockets;
but they soon realised their mistake, for when the visitors from
across the channel found that there was no chance of enlivening their
stay at Ostend (a resort of few natural attractions) with a little
flutter, they beat a precipitate retreat, and the prosperity of the
town began to suffer severely.
Eventually, as the result of serious protest from the local shopkeepers
and others who saw ruin staring them in the face, a species of
compromise has been adopted; and baccarat with one tableau (of which
more anon) is now allowed in the _Cercle_, election to which is not
very difficult.
A short time ago roulette without a zero was here held out as a great
attraction to visitors. As a matter of fact this game was only played
for a limited number of hours every day, and these were precisely those
when visitors would in the ordinary course of events be taking their
meals. The game was merely kept going as a lure to the more profitable
baccarat, the authorities being well aware that roulette without a zero
is unlikely to prove a great source of profit to the bank.
Experience teaches that for some reason not very clearly understood
single tableau baccarat would seem to be particularly favourable to
the banker. So great, indeed, has been the havoc wrought by this
game that the French have given it the name of "La Faucheuse,"--"the
mowing-machine"!
Those who cried out so loudly for the suppression of the
trente-et-quarante at Ostend have, like so many well-meaning people,
done little but harm, for the suppressed trente-et-quarante was a far
less dangerous game. Trente-et-quarante, it should be added, is played
at St. Sebastian, where up to the present year there was also roulette.
At French watering-places gaming flourishes as merrily as ever during
the season. At Trouville, Biarritz, and Aix-les-Bains the game of
baccarat forms one of the chief attractions. There is a good deal of
high play at Trouville at the time of the races. During the present
year one player alone--a very rich gambler fond of high stakes--lost no
less than a million francs. No inconsiderable portion of this sum must
have gone in the percentage which the French Government now levies upon
banks at baccarat. During the last year there was also a great deal of
play at Nice, where the game in question was as popular as the classic
roulette and trente-et-quarante of Monaco.
It is almost impossible to conceive how the vast majority of French
summer pleasure-resorts would contrive to exist were baccarat and
petits chevaux to be suppressed, for a certain portion of the large
profit derived from play is devoted to the upkeep of the Casinos, which
furnish visitors with excellent entertainment. It is, indeed, owing
directly and indirectly to the toleration of play that the French
_plages_ are proving such formidable rivals to the miserably dull
English seaside resorts, which offer so little to visitors who are
fond of a little exciting amusement.
In 1907 the French Government promulgated a new code of regulations
to be enforced at Casinos, all of which were closed for two or three
days throughout France--an operation which, of course, evoked a mass of
hypocritical and totally inaccurate comment in England.
France was congratulated upon her determination to stop every form of
that gambling which had for so many years shocked English visitors,
who would, of course, warmly welcome the stern measures about to be
enforced, and flock across the Channel in largely increased numbers as
a result.
As a matter of fact, the Casinos were closed merely to emphasise the
fact that the Government intended to see that the new regulations which
they imposed, amongst which was one regulating a tax upon baccarat
banks, should be respected.
The very rumour that it was proposed permanently to prohibit gambling
terrified the local authorities, a large number of whom at once went up
to Paris to ascertain whether there was any foundation of truth in such
an idea, which to many a watering-place would mean nothing less than
ruin.
They were, however, soon reassured, for in the end only one small and
insignificant Casino was permanently closed.
By the decree of June 21, 1907, certain games of chance are permitted
at watering-places and health-resorts which have been officially
recognised as such by the Minister of the Interior, on the
representation of the Municipal Council and the Prefect. These are
baccarat, écarté, and the game of petits chevaux and its varieties. A
tax of fifteen per cent is levied on the sum produced by the cagnotte
at écarté and baccarat.
Counters, which were formerly used at Casinos to represent money, were
entirely prohibited, a prohibition which, however, does not apply
to Clubs. The reason for this was that players were apt to obtain
considerable advances from the _caisse_ in baccarat-rooms, a state of
affairs not so likely to happen when ready money alone may be staked.
Playing in cash is also generally of a more careful kind than play in
counters, which for the time being seem nothing at all. A player, of
course, has a far greater chance at baccarat than at petits chevaux,
where the percentage is very unfavourable to him, one horse out of the
nine being the bank's.
According to the new law, fifteen per cent is now levied on the gross
winnings of the bank at this game every day; should the bank lose it is
allowed to deduct the sum lost from its winnings the next day.
The sum produced by this tax of fifteen per cent is to be devoted to
charity, and to various other objects of public utility and affecting
the public health.
When this decree was first issued, chemin-de-fer baccarat was not
included amongst the list of tolerated games, the French authorities
being still horror-struck with the recollection of the single tableau
baccarat, called "La Faucheuse" (the game which, thanks to Puritan
effort, is played at Ostend), which had provoked such gross scandals
in Paris. It was, however, subsequently legalised by a special decree
which was promulgated in the _Journal Officiel_ of the 18th August
1907, and is taxed at the same rate as other tolerated games.