They are to be met with in all parts of the town, though the
head-quarters are in the _Palais du Tribunat_, or, as it is most
commonly called, the _Palais Royal_. Whenever you come to Paris,
and see, on the first story, a suite of rooms ostentatiously
illuminated, and a blazing reverberator at the door, you may be
certain that it is a house of this description.
Before the revolution, gaming was not only tolerated in Paris, but
public gaming-houses were then licensed by the government, under the
agreeable name of _Académies de jeu_. There, any one might ruin
himself under the immediate superintendance of the police, an officer
belonging to which was always present. Besides these academies, women
of fashion and impures of the first class were allowed to keep a
gaming-table or _tripot de jeu_, as it was termed, in their own
house. This was a privilege granted to them in order that they might
thereby recover their shattered fortune. When all the necessary
expenses were paid, these ladies commonly shared the profits with
their protectors, that is, with their friends in power, through whose
protection the _tripot_ was sanctioned. Every one has heard of the
fatal propensity to gaming indulged in by the unfortunate Marie
Antoinette. The French women of quality followed her pernicious
example, as the young male nobility did that of the Count d'Artois
and the Duke of Orleans; so that, however decided might be the
personal aversion of Lewis XVI to gaming, it never was more in
fashion at the court of France than during his reign. This is a fact,
which can be confirmed by General S---th and other Englishmen who
have played deep at the queen's parties.
At the present day, play is, as I have before stated, much recurred
to as a financial resource, by many of the _ci-devant_ female
_noblesse_ in Paris. In their parties, _bouillotte_ is the prevailing
game; and the speculation is productive, if the company will sit and
play. Consequently, the longer the sitting, the greater the profits.
The same lady who moralizes in the morning, and will read you a
lecture on the mischievous consequences of gaming, makes not the
smallest hesitation to press you to sit down at her _bouillotte_ in
the evening, where she knows you will almost infallibly be a loser.
No protection, I believe, is now necessary for a lady who chooses to
have a little private gaming at her residence, under the specious
names of _société_, _bal_, _thé_, or _concert_. But this is not the
case with the _Maisons de jeu_, where the gaming-tables are public;
or even with private houses, where the object of the speculation is
publicly known. These purchase a license in the following manner. A
person, who is said to have several _sleeping_ partners, engages to
pay to the government the sum of 3,600,000 francs (_circa_ £150,000
sterling) a year for the power of licensing all gaming-houses in this
capital, and also to account for a tenth part of the profits, which
enter the coffer of the minister at the head of the department of the
police. This contribution serves to defray part of the expense of
greasing the wheels of that intricate machine. Without such a
license, no gaming-house can be opened in Paris. Sometimes it is paid
for by a share in the profits, sometimes by a certain sum per
sitting.
These _Maisons de jeu_, where dupes are pitted against cheats, are
filled from morning to night with those restless beings, who, in
their eager pursuit after fortune, almost all meet with
disappointment, wretchedness, ruin, and every mischief produced by
gaming. This vice, however, carries with it its own punishment; but
it is unconquerable in the heart which it ravages. It lays a man
prostrate before those fantastic idols, distinguished by the
synonymous names of fate, chance, and destiny. It banishes from his
mind the idea of enriching himself, or acquiring a competence by slow
and industrious means. It feeds, it inflames his cupidity, and
deceives him in order to abandon him afterwards to remorse and
despair.
From the mere impulse of curiosity, I have been led to visit some of
the principal _Maisons de jeu_. I shall therefore represent what I
have seen.
In a spacious suite of apartments, where different games of chance
are played, is a table of almost immeasurable length, covered with a
green cloth, with a red piece at one end, and a black, one at the
other. It is surrounded by a crowd of persons of both sexes, squeezed
together, who, all suspended between fear and hope, are waiting, with
eager eyes and open mouth, for the favourable or luckless chance. I
will suppose that the banker or person who deals the cards, announces
"_rouge perd, couleur gagne_." The oracle has spoken. At these words
of fate, on one side of the table, you see countenances smiling, but
with a smile of inquietude, and on the other, long faces, on which is
imprinted the palid hue of death. However, the losers recover from
their stupor: they hope that the next chance will be more fortunate.
If that happens, and the banker calls out "_rouge gagne, couleur
perd_;" then the scene changes, and the same persons whom you have
just seen so gay, make a sudden transition from joy to sadness, and
_vice versa_. This contrast no language can paint, and you must see
it, in order to conceive how the most headstrong gamblers can spend
hour after hour in such a continual state of agitation, in which they
are alternately overwhelmed by rage, anguish, and despair. Some are
seen plucking out their hair by the roots, scratching their face, and
tearing their clothes to pieces, when, after having lost considerable
sums, frequently they have not enough left to pay for a breakfast or
dinner. What an instructive lesaon for the novice! What a subject of
reflection for the philosophic spectator! At these scenes of folly
and rapacity it is that the demon of suicide exults in the triumphs
he is on the point of gaining over the weakness, avarice, and false
pride of mortals. If the wretched victim has not recourse to a
pistol, he probably seeks a grave at the bottom of the river.
Among these professed gamblers, it often happens that some of them,
in order to create what they term _resources_, imagine tricks and
impostures scarcely credible. I shall relate an anecdote which I
picked up in the course of my inquiries respecting the garning-houses
in Paris. It may be necessary to premise that the counterfeit louis,
which are in circulation in this country, and have nearly the
appearance of the real coin, are employed by these knaves; they
commonly produce them at night, because they then run less risk of
being detected in passing them; but these means are very common and
almost out of date.
In the great gaming-houses in Paris, it is customary to have on the
table several _rouleaux_ of louis d'or. An old, experienced gambler
came one day to a house of this class, with his pockets full of
leaden _rouleaux_ of the exact form and size of those containing
fifty louis d'or. He placed at one of the ends of the table (either
black or red) one of his leaden _rouleaux_: he lost. The master of
the bank took up his _rouleau_, and, without opening it, put it with
the good _rouleaux_ in the middle of the table, where the bank is
kept. The old gambler, without being disconcerted, staked another. He
won, and withdrew the good _rouleau_ given him, leaving the
counterfeit one on the table, at the same time calling out, "I stake
ten louis out of the _rouleau_." The cards were drawn; he won: the
banker, to pay him the ten louis, took a _rouleau_ from the bank.
Chance willed that he lighted on the leaden _rouleau_. He endeavoured
to break it open by striking it on the table: the _rouleau_ withstood
his efforts. The gambler, without deranging his features, then said
to the banker; "Mind you don't break it." The banker, disconcerted,
tore the paper, and, on opening it, found it to contain nothing but
lead. There being no positive proof against the gambler, he was
permitted to retire, and his only punishment was to be in future
excluded from this gaming-house. But he had the consolation of
knowing that ninety-nine others would be open to him. However, this
and other impostures have led to a regulation, that, in all these
houses, the value of every stake should be apparent to the eye, and
openly exposed on the table.
From what I have said you might infer that _trente-et-un_ (or _rouge
et noir_) is the most fashionable game played here; but, though this
is the case, it is not the only one in high vogue. Many others,
equally pernicious, are pursued at the same time, such as _la
roulette_, _passe-dix_, and _biribi_, at which cheats and sharpers
can, more at their ease, execute their feats of dexterity and schemes
of plunder. Women frequent the gaming-tables as well as the men, and
often pledge their last shift to make up a stake. It is shocking to
contemplate a young female gamester, the natural beauty of whose
countenance is distorted into deformity by a succession of agonizing
passions. Yet so distressing an object is no uncommon thing in Paris.
You may, perhaps, be curious to know what are these games, of
_trente-et-un_, _biribi_, _passe-dix,_ and _la roulette_. Never
having played at any of them, such a description as I might pretend
to give, could at best be but imperfect. For which, reason I shall
not engage in the attempt.
It is confidently affirmed that in the principal towns of France,
namely, Bordeaux, Lyons, Marseilles, Rouen, &c. the rage for play is
no less prevalent than in the capital, where gaming-houses daily
increase in number.[1] They are now established in every quarter in
Paris, even the poorest, and there are some where the lowest of the
populace can indulge in a _penchant_ for gaming, as the stake is
proportioned to their means. This is the ruin of every class of
inhabitants and of foreigners; so much so, that suicides here
increase in exact proportion to the increase of gaming-houses.
Is it not astonishing that the government should suffer, still more
promote the existence of an evil so pernicious in every point of
view? From the present state of the French finances, it would,
notwithstanding, appear that every consideration, however powerful,
must yield to the want of money required for defraying the expenses
of the department of the Police.
_Minima de malis_ was the excuse of the old government of France for
promoting gaming. "From the crowd of dissipated characters of every
description, accumulated in great cities," said its partisans,
"governments find themselves compelled to tolerate certain abuses, in
order to avoid evils of greater magnitude. They are forced to
compound with the passions which they are unable to destroy; and it
is better that men should be professed gamblers than usurers,
swindlers, and thieves." Such was the reasoning employed in behalf of
the establishment of the _Académies de jeu_, which existed prior to
the revolution. Such is the reasoning reproduced, at the present day,
in favour of the _Maisons de jeu_; but, when I reflect on all the
horrors occasioned by gaming, I most ardently wish that every
argument in favour of so destructive a vice, may be combated by a pen
like that of Rousseau, which, Sir William Jones says, "had the
property of spreading light before it on the darkest objects, as if
he had written with phosphorus on the walls of a cavern."
[Footnote 1: During the Carnival of the present year (1803) the
masked balls at the grand French Opera were quite deserted, in
consequence of a new gaming-house, established solely for foreigners,
having, by the payment of considerable sums to the government,
obtained permission to give masked balls. These balls were all the
rage. There was one every Tuesday, and the employment of the whole
week was to procure cards of invitation; for persons were admitted by
_invitation_ only, no money being taken. The rooms, though spacious,
were warm and comfortable; the company, tolerably good, and extremely
numerous, but chiefly composed of foreigners. _Treute-et-un_,
_biribi_, _pharaon_, _creps_, and other fashionable games were
played, so that the _speculators_ could very well afford to give all
sorts of refreshments, and an elegant supper _gratis_.]