followed the laws of chance as they are generally understood, the other
even chances, _passe_ and _manque_, _pair_ and _impair_, exhibited such
capriciousness in their recurrence as could not have been expected
had roulette been played continuously through the whole period of
geological time.
The roulette wheels of Monte Carlo are perfectly honest machines. The
cylinder of each is sheet copper, carefully balanced and strengthened
by bands of metal. It revolves in its bed on a vertical pivot of steel,
the top of which has a cup-like hollow, into which oil is poured. A
mechanic, whose business it is to clean and prepare the wheels every
morning, pours oil also into the gun-metal socket which forms the
centre of the wheel, and it is then dropped into its place upon the
pivot.
The great care which is taken by the authorities to ensure the absolute
accuracy of their roulette wheels is based upon very sufficient
grounds, for a slight defect in one of those machines once cost them a
large sum.
Amongst the frequenters of the rooms at Monte Carlo there is always a
large number of astute and none too scrupulous individuals quick to
note any little circumstance likely to be of advantage to themselves.
For this reason some slight tendency of the roulette wheel to stop in
such a way as to cause a certain group of numbers to have an advantage
over the rest is very quickly noticed and advantage taken of it.
A mechanic from Yorkshire, Jaggers by name, once cost the Casino
some two million francs. Well aware of the difficulty of maintaining
a nicely adjusted machine in a perfectly stable condition, Jaggers
engaged six assistants, whom he posted at different tables to note
the numbers at roulette all day long, whilst he himself undertook
to make an elaborate analysis of the results. After a month's play
peculiarities were clearly to be discovered in the appearance of the
numbers at each of the tables quite out of consonance with the law of
average, some numbers turning up more, some less. Having ascertained
this fact Jaggers and his men began to play on the numbers which kept
ahead of the rest, and won some hundred and forty thousand pounds.
The authorities then realised that all was not right, and changed the
roulette wheels from one table to another for every day's play, with
the result that the bank recovered £40,000. Jaggers, however, was not
yet defeated, for by searching observations he discovered minute marks
on most of the six wheels, which enabled him to follow them from table
to table--a mere scratch was enough.
In a short time he and his assistants knew what numbers would be most
likely to recur at certain tables, and the £40,000 which the bank had
regained was soon won back.
The authorities controlling the play now began to take a serious view
of the situation, and in consequence consulted the manufacturer of the
roulette wheels in Paris with a view to constructing cylinders capable
of baffling Jaggers and his gang. A new set of wheels were constructed
with interchangeable partitions, so that the position of the various
receptacles to receive the ball might be changed every evening, when
practically a new wheel would be produced, the receptacle which had
served for one number on any certain day being utilised for another on
the other side the next.
By these means Jaggers was eventually defeated. He was astute enough to
perceive that the advantages which he had so cleverly utilised for his
own profit no longer existed and, after having lost back some portion
of his gains, retired from Monte Carlo some £80,000 to the good.
In order to obviate all chance of anything of this kind happening
again, the roulette wheels are carefully examined and tested every day,
the most thorough precautions being taken to ensure conditions of the
fairest kind.
Whatever objections may be urged against the gambling-rooms as an
institution, no accusation of unfairness can be raised against the way
in which play is conducted at Monte Carlo. In this respect scrupulous
and undeviating honesty is the absolute rule.
A croupier, like a poet, is said to be born, not made. Many of those
employed at Monte Carlo, according to current report, are descendants
of those who raked in the money of the Allies (and especially of the
English officers) in the old gambling-rooms of the Palais Royal in 1814.
A large section belong to great croupier families, members of which
dealt the cards and plied the rake in the "conversation houses" and
Kursaals of Baden, Homburg, Ems, and other German Spas which have been
described. There is something rather stately about these men, most of
whom have a peculiar look of detachment not lacking in dignity.
Solemn, courteous, suave, and unmoved, they appear little affected by
the monotony which must of necessity attach to their calling. They are,
it is said, excellent husbands and fathers, of simple tastes, their
chief amusement being playing cards for very modest stakes amongst
themselves--for they are a class apart.
A School of Croupiers exists, at which applicants are trained.
The course of instruction in question is located in the Club-room of
the Tir aux Pigeons and the Salle d'Escrime. Here during the six summer
months are tables exactly like those in the public rooms above, each
pupil in turn taking the _rôle_ of croupier, whilst others, personating
players, stake money all over the table. The novice croupier learns to
calculate and pay out winning stakes with sham money, consisting of
metal discs and dummy bank-notes.
It takes at least six months to produce a finished croupier.
A roulette croupier receives two hundred and fifty francs a month;
whilst dealers at trente-et-quarante are paid three hundred francs.
The working-day is six hours, in two spells of three hours each; each
man being for three days in succession at one table. Every table is
controlled by six croupiers, a seventh being held in reserve as a
relief.
At the tables the suavity of manner and impartiality of croupiers in
settling disputes is generally above all praise. The difficulties
with which a croupier has to contend are sometimes disturbing in the
extreme, but his decision is final and, as the players know, admits of
no appeal.
Though the tables are surrounded by a mob of persons avid of gain,
yet there are times when winning stakes remain unclaimed for several
_coups_. When this is observed by the croupiers, the money is set
aside for a certain time, after which it goes to swell the funds of
the bank. Odd though it may appear, people very often depart leaving
winnings behind them on the table--a curious case of this once came
under the writer's observation.
A lady, who was leaving Monte Carlo, had been sitting all the morning
at the roulette, trying with little success to get on a run, and at
last left the rooms to go to lunch with the writer, who afterwards,
having escorted her to the hotel to prepare for her journey, strolled
again into the Casino.
Just within the door he was accosted by an excited and voluble
Englishwoman, who explained that the lady (whom she had observed with
the writer) had left two louis on the red when she rose from her chair.
Red had won twice, and the attention of the croupiers had been drawn to
the unclaimed eight louis, for which the speaker had then assumed the
responsibility, saying she was to play them for a lady who had gone out
of the rooms. She had then proceeded to play up the eight louis till
they had become sixty-four, when, at her request, the whole sum was
taken off the table. The _chef de partie_ meanwhile declared that the
bank would not part with the money till the owner of the original two
louis returned.
After waiting for some time, the woman (who frankly said that she hoped
to receive a share of the money for having played it up) became much
perturbed at not knowing where to find the only owner whom the bank
would recognise, and the advent of the writer, to whom she explained
the whole thing, was therefore most opportune. The lady when told that
sixty-four louis was waiting for her was naturally much pleased, and
on drawing the sum on her way to the station, very cheerfully gave the
woman a third of what had been won.
Of late years the annual profits of the Casino at Monte Carlo have
worked out at about a million, £4000 a day, it is said, flowing into
the coffers of the bank during the season. The disbursements, however,
are very heavy, amounting literally to hundreds of thousands of pounds.
Amongst these must be reckoned £9000 for clergy and schools, £6000
for charity, and £20,000 for police. The arrangement, which was some
years ago renewed with the reigning Prince, naturally absorbs a very
large sum of money; but, when everything has been paid out, the annual
profits do not fall far short of £500,000, the shareholders, even in
bad years, receiving something like thirty per cent.
The Casino employs about two thousand officials and _employés_;
the general management being carried on by a _directeur-général_,
who receives 100,000 francs a year, and three _directeurs_. Three
_sous-directeurs_, under whom are the _chefs de table_ and the
croupiers, have to superintend the gaming-rooms, in which eighteen
inspectors walk about the rooms quietly and continually, keeping
watchful eyes on _employés_ and players. These inspectors are known
only to the initiated, and have the appearance of being ordinary
onlookers, fond of watching the play. Amongst other duties these men
keep an eye upon the people staking, in order to detect any habitual
snatchers of other people's money, and also to report on any one who
may apply for the _viatique_.
The _viatique_, or sum of money doled out to unsuccessful gamblers
by the Casino, consists of the price of a second-class ticket to the
applicant's home, together with some small additional funds to enable
him to proceed on his journey.
The dole in question was in the earlier days of Monte Carlo generally
granted without much demur, but at the present time a successful
applicant has to comply with some very unpleasant formalities.
To obtain the _viatique_, the presumably penniless gamester must
present himself at a special office, just off a corner of the central
gaming-room, and there he must take an oath that he has lost over
£300. Inquiries are then made as to whether the applicant has really
lost a large sum at play, which is easily discovered by the evidence
of the inspectors and officials presiding at the tables. If these
inquiries corroborate the story told, he is handed the money, for which
he signs a receipt; and until the advance is repaid, the recipient
is not allowed to pass the doors which separate the atrium from the
gaming-rooms. As a matter of fact, I believe those who have received
the _viatique_ are now photographed so as to be identified by the
door-keepers.
There have been instances of unsuccessful system players, who, after
obtaining the _viatique_, have remained at Monte Carlo, constantly
vaunting the virtues of their peculiar method of play, indulgence in
which has shut them off from the tables.
Whilst the enormous majority of those who frequent Monte Carlo lose, as
the princely dividends of the Casino show, certain is it that a number
of persons continue to eke out a living by very moderate and careful
play. Living in humble lodgings or cheap hotels in the Condamine are
many who make it the business of their lives to win one louis, or even
ten francs, every day, sitting for hours perhaps in the accomplishment
of the task.
Some of these are ruined gamblers, who, being reduced to a modest
competency owing to their ruling passion, have more or less learnt
wisdom and are content to wait for long periods of time without staking
at all, whilst quick to grasp the advantage which can be taken from a
well-marked run. Old women, with queer handbags and bundles of what
resemble washing-books, abound at the roulette tables, some of them
being exceedingly shrewd and in a small way not unsuccessful players.
When a woman really grasps the spirit of play she is undoubtedly far
cleverer than a man, who more often than not regards the gambling as a
personal combat between himself and the bank, which he thinks of rather
as a living thing than the ruthless inanimate machine which, in sober
fact, it is.
The majority of women, however, are quite hopeless as gamblers, merely
frittering their money away, often quite ignorant of the odds, chances,
and general procedure of either trente-et-quarante or roulette, at
which their favourite method of staking is to try and back winning
numbers.
The methods and systems employed by habitual frequenters of the rooms
are of every possible description, some being devised to win but a
louis, and others to secure a princely fortune.
The numbers at roulette are very profitable to the bank, for no system
or method, no matter how carefully devised (except the one employed by
Jaggers), has ever assisted any one to back a winning number or set of
numbers. All this is mere chance, and no calculations as to previous
numbers and the like are of the least assistance. Every _coup_ that is
played is an absolutely new _coup_, and quite unaffected by anything
that has gone before. There is really no reason why one number should
not keep turning up during the whole of one day's play except the fact
that such a thing has never been known to happen. It appears certain
that the general tendency of chances is to equalise themselves at
the end of a certain period, but as the player of necessity cannot
possibly tell whether any given chance is on the up or down grade, such
knowledge is of no assistance whatever to him.
A certain number is observed not to have turned up for a considerable
length of time, and the conclusion is formed that an increasing stake
upon it must in the end prove a good investment. More often than not
the very contrary is the case, for there have been whole days at Monte
Carlo during which a number at one table has scarcely appeared at all.
On the other hand, if a record of every _coup_ at this table had been
kept, the recurrence of every number would, in the course of time, be
found to be practically the same. Complicated systems have often been
devised, the main principle of which was covering a large proportion
of the numbers, only a few, supposed by deduction to be unlikely to
turn up, being left untouched. Disaster has invariably followed even
a moderate run on such numbers, which, of course, occurs in the end,
completely draining the players' pockets.
The even chances, without doubt, afford a player the greatest
likelihood of success.
Staking a louis every time on both black and red, or any other even
chance, leaving on any winnings in the hope of catching a run, is
occasionally not a bad plan. The trouble of staking on both chances
can be modified by calculation, though it is somewhat apt to lead to
confusion.
A great number of players spend their whole time trying to strike a
run at trente-et-quarante--this generally occurs when they are absent
from their favourite table. The third _coup_ would seem to be the most
dangerous: for this reason, when a colour has run twice it is better
to withdraw some portion of the sum staked, and then the remainder may
be left to double up.
The practice of staking on the dozens at roulette is generally very
attractive to those fresh to the tables, who like the idea of landing a
two to one chance. The same type of player is, as a rule, at one time
or another, fascinated by that system (or rather method of staking)
which consists in backing two dozens, that is, laying two to one
against the bank. Most of such players, however, soon discover how
disastrous this may prove, and it should be realised that it is by no
means an unusual occurrence for a dozen not to appear for ten or twelve
_coups_--seventeen, I believe, is the record number of non-appearances.
The great objection, however, to backing two dozens is zero, which
sweeps everything but the even chances.
Another method of play is to stake against the recurrence of any number
of even chances in an identical order.
Ten _coups_ at trente-et-quarante, for instance, having resulted thus:
Red
Red
Red
Black
Red
Black
Black
Red
Red
Black,
the player plays black, black, black, red, and so on in an exactly
opposite sense, increasing his stake till successful. As a matter of
fact it is not very usual for any given number of _coups_ to recur in
exactly the same succession, and played with discretion this system
occasionally yields fair results.
Another simple method is to stake red, black, alternately, doubling up
till the winning colour is caught. This has the advantage of ensuring
profit from a run, but a directly opposite series of alternate reds and
blacks must, of course, prove ruinous in the extreme.
The martingale, which is merely going "double or quits," is the
simplest of all systems. There are two martingales, the small and the
great. In the small martingale the aim is to get back all previous
losses in one _coup_, and to leave you a winner of one unit at the
finish.
The progression is as follows: 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 512,
1024. If you played this system at a roulette table with a unit of five
francs, it takes eleven consecutive losses to defeat you, and one loss
less at the trente-et-quarante table, where the minimum stake is 20
francs.
You may go on playing this martingale for weeks at a time without
encountering an adverse run of sufficient magnitude to enable the bank
to capture your stake. The only thing you have to fear is a run of 12
against you; you can only double up eleven times, and your last stake
will be 5120 francs. Runs of 12, however, are rare.
The great martingale aims at getting back all the previous losses and
winning one unit for every _coup_ played. The progression is 1, 3, 7,
15, 31, 63, 127, 255, 511, 1023, and the player is defeated by ten
consecutive losses at roulette, and nine at trente-et-quarante.
When playing the little martingale the player has to double his stake
every time he loses, in order to recover his losses and be one unit
to the good. Whereas, in the great martingale he not only doubles his
stake but adds one unit to each _coup_, and only stands one chance in
1024 of losing at each _coup_, that is, of encountering an adverse run
of ten.
A popular system is that known as the Labouchere system. Its main
principle is to keep scratching out the top and bottom figures whenever
you win, till no figures are left, and always to put down your loss
when you lose, which, added to the topmost number, forms the next stake.
Before beginning to play write down on a card 1, 2, 3, in this order:--
1
2
3
Your object is to win six units, and you always stake the sum total of
the top and bottom figures--1 + 3 = 4. If you win, you strike out the 3
and the 1:--
=1=
2
=3=
Your next stake will now be 2. If you win again, your task is over, for
you have won your six units. Suppose, however, as alas! most frequently
happens, that you lose your first stake 1 + 3, you must add the figure
4 at the bottom of your score thus:--
1
2
3
4
Your next stake will now be 1 + 4 = 5. We will then say that you win,
in which case cross out the 1 and the 4, making your score:--
=1=
2
3
=4=
The next stake would be 2 + 3. You lose, and your score stands:--
=1=
2
3
=4=
5
The next stake would be 2 + 5. You win, and you cross out 2 and 5:--
=1=
=2=
3
=4=
=5=
The next stake would be 3, and if you win you cross out 3, and have
won the six units that you started out to win.
Not infrequently this system, after very nearly proving successful (one
number only being left), goes entirely wrong and runs into very big
figures, and in such a case the player is very lucky if he succeeds in
regaining his losses and winning the six units originally sought for.
More often than not he finds himself obliged to desist through lack of
capital.
The writer's own experience of this system, which he has thoroughly
tested on several occasions at Monte Carlo, was that very frequently
the six units would be won several times in succession with
comparatively slight difficulty--at times, indeed, it appeared almost
ridiculously easy to win. In the end, however, there invariably came a
day when a very contrary state of affairs prevailed, and the money won
returned, with interest, to the bank.
It should be added that before the writer embarked upon his efforts to
defeat the bank at Monte Carlo by means of this system, he gave it a
thorough trial by dealing out the required number of packs of cards at
trente-et-quarante, and noting the results of the various _coups_. In
almost every case the system proved completely successful, as systems
generally do when they are not being played for money.
An exception to this was Lord Rosslyn's defeat by Sir Hiram Maxim, when
the former's system, played for sham money, was beaten at the 3080th
_coup_. Nevertheless the system in question is not a particularly bad
one, were it not that it requires a considerable capital. Ten thousand
units or more are essential, with £16,000 on the basis of a one-louis
unit.
If fortune should favour the player, the profit would be from five to
six hundred louis a day.
The principle of this system is to increase the stakes by one unit
every time, without ever decreasing, until all previous losses are
wiped out and one louis as well is gained for every _coup_ played.
Two exceptions to this rule, however, exist. The first stake is always
"one," but if you lose this, instead of your next stake being two, it
is three; after that it should be four, five, six, seven, eight, etc.,
until your task is accomplished. The game is finished when you can wipe
out all minus quantities from your score sheet and bring the result to
+1. Suppose, therefore, your score sheet shows you to be -3, and your
stake in the ordinary way ought to be 7; instead of staking 7 you would
only stake 4, in order to arrive at the result of +1 if you win. In the
event of your losing the stake of 4, your next stake will be 8, just
as if you had staked 7 in the ordinary course of the game the previous
_coup_. If you lose the 8, you would continue with 9, 10, 11, and so on.
If you win two or three stakes of 1 at the commencement, they are
considered as definite gains, and put away quite apart from your
capital.
In the event of your losing the first two stakes of 1 and 3, your
position is:--
First loss -1
Second loss -3
--
Total loss -4
The object of the system being to win a unit per _coup_ as well as to
recover any loss, in order to keep a clear record of the amount you
require to win, it is best to add one unit to your losses after every
_coup_.
Supposing that the game is begun with four losing and three winning
_coups_, it will be scored as follows:--
First loss 1 to which add 1 more.
1
--
Total -2
Second stake -3 and lose.
--
Lost -5 to which add 1 more.
1
--
Total -6
Third stake -4 and lose.
--
Lost -10 to which add 1 more.
1
--
Total -11
Fourth stake -5 and lose.
--
Lost -16 to which add 1 more.
1
--
Total -17
Fifth stake +6 and win.
Lost -11 to which add 1 more.
1
--
Total -12
Sixth stake +7 and win.
--
Lost -5 to which add 1 more.
1
--
Total -6
Seventh stake 7 and win.
--
Result +1
Result.--_Coups_ played, 7; _coups_ lost, 4; units won, 20. _Coups_
won, 3; units lost, 13. Total won, 7.
The last stake, it will be observed, is only 7 instead of 8. This is
because you only require to arrive at a result of +1. Had 8 been staked
in the ordinary course and won, you would have won a unit more than you
needed, but would have taken some unnecessary risk.
Those desirous of giving various systems a trial should not omit to
study the method of staking set forth in Mr. Victor Bethell's lively
little book, _Ten Days at Monte Carlo_. A merit of this system is that
it only seeks to win a certain moderate amount every day, and does not
allure the player with hopes of immense and impossible gain.
Most systems as a rule prove successful for a short time, and while
this happy state of affairs prevails, the player, not unnaturally,
congratulates himself upon having discovered an infallible method of
overcoming the wiles of chance. Sooner or later, alas, comes the day
when his laborious calculations prove quite powerless to defeat the
bank, and clearly demonstrate that the success, which at one time
seemed so certain and easy, was merely the result of having hit upon a
vein of good luck.