BADEN AND ITS CONVERSATION HOUSE.
Baden-Baden in the season is full of the most exciting contrasts--gay
restaurants and brilliant saloons, gaming-tables, promenades, and
theatres crammed with beauty and rank, in the midst of lovely natural
scenery, and under the shade of the pine-clad heights of the Hercynian
or Black Forest--the scene of so many weird tales of old Germany--as for
instance of the charming _Undine_ of De la Mothe Fouque.
But among the seducing attractions of Baden-Baden, and of all German
bathing-places, the Rouge-et-noir and Roulette-table hold a melancholy
pre-eminence,--being at once a shameful source of revenue to the
prince,--a rallying point for the gay, the beautiful, the professional
blackleg, the incognito duke or king,--and a vortex in which the
student, the merchant, and the subaltern officer are, in the course of
the season, often hopelessly and irrevocably ingulfed. Remembering the
gaming excitement of the primitive Germans, we can scarcely be surprised
to find that the descendants of these northern races poison the pure
stream of pleasure by the introduction of this hateful occupation. It
is, however, rather remarkable that all foreign visitors, whether Dutch,
Flemish, Swede, Italian, or even English, of whatever age or disposition
or sex, 'catch the frenzy' during the (falsely so-called) _Kurzeit_,
that is, _Cure-season_, at Baden, Ems, and Ais.
Princes and their subjects, fathers and sons, and even, horrible to say,
mothers and daughters, are hanging, side by side, for half the night
over the green table; and, with trembling hands and anxious eyes,
watching their chance-cards, or thrusting francs and Napoleons with
their rakes to the red or the black cloth.
No spot in the whole world draws together a more distinguished society
than may be met at Baden; its attractions are felt and acknowledged by
every country in Europe. Many of the _elite_ of each nation may
yearly be found there during the months of summer, and, as a natural
consequence, many of the worst and vilest follow them, in the hope of
pillage.
Says Mrs Trollope:--'I doubt if anything less than the evidence of the
senses can enable any one fully to credit and comprehend the spectacle
that a gaming-table offers. I saw women distinguished by rank,
elegant in person, modest, and even reserved in manner, sitting at the
Rouge-et-noir table with their rateaux, or rakes, and marking-cards in
their hands;--the former to push forth their bets, and draw in their
winnings, the latter to prick down the events of the game. I saw such
at different hours through the whole of Sunday. To name these is
impossible; but I grieve to say that two English women were among them.'
The Conversationshaus, where the gambling takes place, is let out by
the Government of Baden to a company of speculators, who pay, for the
exclusive privilege of keeping the tables, L11,000 annually, and
agree to spend in addition 250,000 florins (L25,000) on the walks and
buildings, making altogether about L36,000. Some idea may be formed from
this of the vast sums of money which must be yearly lost by the dupes
who frequent it. The whole is under the direction of M. Benazet, who
formerly farmed the gambling houses of Paris.
'On trouve ici le jeu, les livres, la musique,
Les cigarres, l'amour, les orangers,
Le monde tantot gai, tantot melancholique,
Les glaces, la danse, et les cochers;
De la biere, de bons diners,
A cote d'arbre une boutique,
Et la vue de hauts rochers.
Ma foi!'
'We find here gambling, books, and music,
Cigars, love-making, orange-trees;
People or gay or melancholic,
Ices, dancing, and coachmen, if you please;
Beer, and good dinners; besides these,
Shops where they sell not _on tic;_
And towering rocks one ever sees.'
'How shall I describe,' says Mr Whitelocke, 'to my readers in language
sufficiently graphic, one of the resorts the most celebrated in Europe;
a place, if not competing with Crockford's in gorgeous magnificence
and display, at least surpassing it in renown, and known over a wider
sphere? The metropolitan pump-room of Europe, conducted on the principle
of gratuitous admittance to all bearing the semblance of gentility and
conducting themselves with propriety, opens its Janus doors to all the
world with the most laudable hospitality and with a perfect indifference
to exclusiveness, requiring only the hat to be taken off upon entering,
and rejecting only short jackets, cigar, pipe, and meerschaum. A room
of this description, a temple dedicated to fashion, fortune, and
flirtation, requires a pen more current, a voice more eloquent,
than mine to trace, condense, vivify, and depict. Taking everything,
therefore, for granted, let us suppose a vast saloon of regular
proportions, rather longer than broad, at either end garnished by a
balcony; beneath, doors to the right and left, and opposite to the main
entrance, conduct to other apartments, dedicated to different purposes.
On entering the eye is at once dazzled by the blaze of lights from
chandeliers of magnificent dimensions, of lamps, lustres, and sconces.
The ceiling and borders set off into compartments, showered over with
arabesques, the gilded pillars, the moving mass of promenaders, the
endless labyrinth of human beings assembled from every region in Europe,
the costly dresses, repeated by a host of mirrors, all this combined,
which the eye conveys to the brain at a single glance, utterly fails in
description. As with the eye, so it is with the ear; at every step a new
language falls upon it, and every tongue with different intonation, for
the high and the low, the prince, peer, vassal, and tradesman, the proud
beauty, the decrepit crone, some fresh budding into the world, some
standing near the grave, the gentle and the stern, the sombre and the
gay, in short, every possible antithesis that the eye, ear, heart can
perceive, hear, or respond to, or that the mind itself can imagine, is
here to be met with in two minutes. And yet all this is no Babel; for
all, though concentrated, is admirably void of confusion; and evil
or strong passions, if they do exist, are religiously suppressed--a
necessary consequence, indeed, where there can be no sympathy, and where
contempt and ridicule would be the sole reciprocity. In case, however,
any such display should take place, a gendarme keeps constant watch
at the door, appointed by government, it is true, but resembling our
Bow-street officers in more respects than one.
'Now that we have taken a survey of the brilliant and moving throng, let
us approach the stationary crowd to the left hand, and see what it is
that so fascinates and rivets their attention. They are looking upon a
long table covered with green cloth, in the centre of which is a large
polished wooden basin with a moveable rim, and around it are small
compartments, numbered to a certain extent, namely 38, alternately red
and black in irregular order, numbered from one to 36, a nought or zero
in a red, and a double zero upon the black, making up the 38, and each
capable of holding a marble. The moveable rim is set in motion by the
hand, and as it revolves horizontally from east to west round its axis,
the marble is caused by a jerk of the finger and thumb to fly off in a
contrary movement. The public therefore conclude that no calculation
can foretell where the marble will fall, and I believe they are right,
inasmuch as the bank plays a certain and sure game, however deep, runs
no risk of loss, and consequently has no necessity for superfluously
cheating or deluding the public. It also plays double, that is, on both
sides of the wheel of fortune at once.
'When the whirling of both rim and marble cease, the latter falls,
either simultaneously or after some coy uncertainty, into one of
the compartments, and the number and colour, &c., are immediately
proclaimed, the stakes deposited are dexterously raked up by the
croupier, or increased by payment from the bank, according as the colour
wins or loses. Now, the two sides or tables are merely duplicates of one
another, and each of them is divided something like a chess-board
into three columns of squares, which amount to 36; the numbers advance
arithmetically from right to left, and consequently there are 12 lines
down, so as to complete the rectangle; as one, therefore, stands at the
head, four stands immediately under it, and so on. At the bottom lie
three squares, with the French marks 12 p--12 m--12 d, that is, first,
middle, third dozen. The three large meadows on either side are for red
and black, pair and odd, miss and pass--which last signify the division
of the numbers into the first and second half, from 1 to 18, and from
19 to 36, inclusive. If a number be staked upon and wins, the stake is
increased to six times its amount, and so on, always less as the stake
is placed in different positions, which may be effected in the following
ways--by placing the piece of gold or silver on the line (_a cheval_,
as it is called), partly on one and partly on its neighbour, two numbers
are represented, and should one win, the piece is augmented to eighteen
times the sum; three numbers are signified upon the stroke at the end or
beginning of the numbers that go across; six, by placing the coin on
the border of a perpendicular and a horizontal line between two strokes;
four, where the lines cross within; twelve numbers are signified in a
two-fold manner, either upon the column where the figures follow in the
order of one, four, seven, and so on, or on the side-fields mentioned
above; these receive the stake trebled; and those who stake solely upon
the colour, the two halves, or equal and odd, have their stake doubled
when they win. Now, the two zeros, that is, the simple and compound,
stand apart and may be separately staked upon; should either turn up,
the stake is increased in a far larger proportion.
'To render the game equal, without counting in the zeros and other
trifles, the winner ought to receive the square of 36, instead of 36.
'It is a melancholy amusement to any rational being not infatuated
by the blind rage of gold, to witness the incredible excitement so
repeatedly made to take the bank by storm, sometimes by surprise, anon
by stealth, and not rarely by digging a mine, laying intrenchments and
opening a fire of field-pieces, heavy ordnance, and flying artillery;
but the fortress, proud and conscious of its superior strength, built on
a rock of adamant, laughs at the fiery attacks of its foes, nay, itself
invites the storm.
'For those classes of mankind who possess a little more prudence, the
game called _Trente-et-un_, and _Quarante_, or _Rouge et Noir_ are
substituted.
'The lord of the temple or establishment pays, I believe, to government
a yearly sum of 35,000 florins (about L3000) for permission to keep
up the establishment. He has gone to immense expense in decorating
the building; he pays a crowd of croupiers at different salaries, and
officers of his own, who superintend and direct matters; he lights
up the building, and he presides over the festivities of the town--in
short, he is the patron of it all. With all this liberality he himself
derives an enormous revenue, an income as sure and determined as that of
my Lord Mayor himself.'(73)
(73) City of the Fountains, or Baden-Baden. By R. H. Whitelocke.
Carlsruhe, 1840.
The Baden season begins in May; the official opening takes place towards
the close of the spring quarter, and then the fashionable world begins
to arrive at the rendezvous.
It cannot be denied that everything is right well regulated, and apart
from the terrible dangers of gambling, the place does very great credit
to the authorities who thrive on the nefarious traffic. Perfect order
and decency of deportment, with all the necessary civilities of life,
are rigorously insisted on, and summary expulsion is the consequence
of any intolerable conduct. If it so happens that any person becomes
obnoxious in any way, whatever may be his or her rank, the first
intimation will be--'Sir, you are not in your place here;' or, 'Madame,
the air of Baden does not suit you.' If these words are disregarded,
there follows a summary order--'You must leave Baden this very day, and
cross the frontiers of the Grand Duchy within twenty-four hours.'
Mr Sala, in his novel 'Make your Game,'(74) has given a spirited
description of the gambling scenes at Baden.
(74) Originally published in the 'Welcome Guest.'
Whilst I write there is exhibited at the Egyptian Hall, London, Dore's
magnificent picture of the _Tapis Vert_, or Life in Baden-Baden, of
which the following is an accurate description:--
'The _Tapis Vert_ is a moral, and at the same time an exceedingly
clever, satire. It is illustrative of the life, manners, and
predilections and pursuits of a class of society left hereafter to enjoy
the manifold attractions of fashionable watering-places, without the
scourge that for so many years held its immoral and degrading sway in
their sumptuous halls.
'In one of these splendid salons the fashionable crowd is eagerly
pressing round an oblong table covered with green cloth (_le tapis
vert_), upon which piles of gold and bank-notes tell the tale of "_noir
perd et la couleur gagne_," and vice versa. The principal group, upon
which Dore has thrown one of his powerful effects of light, is lifelike,
and several of the actors are at once recognized. Both croupiers are
well-known characters. There is much life and movement in the silent
scene, in which thousands of pounds change hands in a few seconds. To
the left of the croupier (dealer), who turns up the winning card, sits
a finely-dressed woman, who cares for little else but gold. There is a
remarkable expression of eagerness and curiosity upon the countenance of
the lady who comes next, and who endeavours, with the assistance of her
eye-glass, to find out the state of affairs. The gentleman next to her
is an inveterate _blase_. The countenance of the old man reckoning up
needs no description. Near by stands a lady with a red feather in her
hat, and whose lace shawl alone is worth several hundred pounds--for
Dore made it. The two female figures to the left are splendidly painted.
The one who causes the other croupier to turn round seems somewhat
extravagantly dressed; but these costumes have been frequently worn
within the last two years both at Baden and Hombourg. The old lady at
the end of the table, to the left, is a well-known habituee at both
places. The bustling and shuffling eagerness of the figures in the
background is exceedingly well rendered.
'As a whole, the _Tapis Vert_ is a very fine illustration of real life,
as met with in most of the leading German watering-places.'(75)
(75) 'Illustrated Times.'
'At the present moment,' says another authority, writing more than a
year ago, 'there are three very bold female gamblers at Baden. One is
the Russian Princess ----, who plays several hours every day at _Rouge
et Noir_, and sometimes makes what in our money would be many hundreds,
and at others goes empty away. She wins calmly enough, but when luck
is against her looks anxious. The second is the wife of an Italian
ex-minister, who is well known both as an authoress and politician. She
patronizes _Roulette_, and at every turn of the wheel her money passes
on the board. She is a good gambler--smirking when she wins, and
smirking when she loses. She dresses as splendidly as any of the
dames of Paris. The other night she excited a flutter among the ladies
assembled in the salons of the "Conversation" by appearing in a robe
flaming red with an exaggerated train which dragged its slow length
along the floor. But the greatest of the feminine players is the Leonie
Leblanc. When she is at the _Rouge et Noir_ table a larger crowd than
usual is collected to witness her operation. The stake she generally
risks is 6000 francs (L240), which is the maximum allowed. Her chance is
changing: a few days back she won L4000 in one sitting; some days later
she lost about L2000, and was then reduced to the, for her, indignity of
playing for paltry sums--L20 or thereabouts.'
Among the more recent chronicles, the _Figaro_ gives the following
account of the close of the campaign of a gaming hero, M. Edgar de la
Charme, who, for a number of days together, never left the gaming-room
without carrying off the sum of 24,000 francs.
'The day before yesterday, M. de la Charme, reflecting that there must
be an end even to the greatest run of luck, locked his portmanteau, paid
his bill, and took the road to the railway station, accompanied by some
of his friends. On reaching the wicket he found it closed; there were
still three-quarters of an hour to pass before the departure of the
train. "I will go and play my parting game," he exclaimed, and, turning
to the coachman, bade him drive to the Kursaal. His friends surrounded
him, and held him back; he should not go, he would lose all his
winnings. But he was resolute, and soon reached the Casino, where his
travelling dress caused a stir of satisfaction among the croupiers. He
sat down at the _Trente-et-quarante_, broke the bank in 20 minutes, got
into his cab again, and seeing the inspector of the tables walking
to and fro under the arcades, he said to him, in a tone of exquisite
politeness, "I could not think of going away without leaving you my
P.P.C."'
SPA.
'The gambling houses of Spa are in the Redoute, where _Rouge et Noir_
and _Roulette_ are carried on nearly from morning to night.
The profits of these establishments exceed L40,000 a year. In former
times they belonged to the Bishop of Liege, who was a partner in the
concern, and derived a considerable revenue from his share of the
ill-gotten gains of the manager of the establishment, and no gambling
tables could be set up without his permission.'(76)
(76) Murray's Handbook for Travellers on the Continent.
'The gambling in Spa is in a lower style than elsewhere. The croupiers
seem to be always on the look-out for cheating. You never see here a
pile of gold or bank notes on the table, as at Hombourg or Wiesbaden,
with the player saying, "Cinquante louis aux billet," "Cent-vingt louis
a la masse," and the winnings scrupulously paid, or the losings raked
carefully away from the heap. They do not allow that at Spa; there is an
order against it on the wall. They could not trust the people that play,
I suppose, and it is doubtful if the people could trust the croupiers.
The ball spins more slowly at _Roulette_--the cards are dealt more
gingerly at _Trente-et-quarante_ here than elsewhere. Nothing must
be done quickly, lest somebody on one side or other should try to do
somebody else. Altogether Spa is not a pleasant place to play in, and
as, moreover, the odds are as great against you as at Ems, it is better
to stick to the promenade _de sept heures_ and the ball-room, and leave
the two tables alone. Outside it is cheery and full of life. The Queen
of the Belgians is here, the Duke of Aumale, and other nice people. The
breeze from the hills is always delicious; the Promenade Meyerbeer as
refreshing on a hot day as a draught of iced water. But the denizens,
male and female, of the _salons de jeu_ are often obnoxious, and one
wishes that the old Baden law could be enforced against some of the
gentler sex.
'By way of warning to any of your readers who propose to visit the
tables this summer, will you let me tell a little anecdote, from
personal experience, of one of these places--which one I had perhaps
better not say. I took a place at the Roulette table, and had not staked
more than once or twice, when two handsomely dressed ladies placed
themselves one on either side of me, and commenced playing with the
smallest coins allowed, wedging me in rather unpleasantly close between
them. At my third or fourth stake I won on both the colour and a number,
and my neighbour on the right quietly swept up my coins from the colour
the instant they were paid. I remonstrated, and she very politely argued
the point, ending by restoring my money. But during our discussion my
far larger stake, paid in the mean while, on the winning number, had
disappeared into the pocket of my neighbour on the left, who was not so
polite, and was very indignant at my suggestion that the stake was mine.
An appeal to the croupier only produced a shrug of the shoulders and
regret that he had not seen who staked the money, an offer to stop the
play, and a suggestion that I should find it very difficult to prove it
was my stake. The "plant" between the two women was evident. The whole
thing was a systematically-planned robbery, and very possibly the
croupier was a confederate. I detected the two women in communication,
and I told them that I should change my place to the other side of the
table where I would trouble them not to come. They took the hint very
mildly, and could afford to do so, for they had got my money. The
affair was very neatly managed, and would succeed in nearly every case,
especially if the croupier is, as is most probable, always on the side
of the ladies.'
HOMBOURG.
'In 1842 Hombourg was an obscure village, consisting of the castle of
the Landgraf, and of a few hundred houses which in the course of ages
had clustered around it. Few would have known of its existence except
from the fact of its being the capital of the smallest of European
countries. Its inhabitants lived poor and contented--the world
forgetting, by the world forgot. It boasted only of one inn--the
"Aigle"--which in summer was frequented by a few German families, who
came to live cheaply and to drink the waters of a neighbouring mineral
spring. That same year two French brothers of the name of Blanc arrived
at Frankfort. They were men of a speculative turn, and a recent and
somewhat daring speculation in France, connected with the old semaphore
telegraph, had rendered it necessary for them to withdraw for a time
from their native land. Their stock-in-trade consisted in a Roulette
wheel, a few thousand francs, and an old and skilful croupier of
Frascati, who knew a great deal about the properties of cards. The
authorities of the town of Frankfort, being dull traders, declined to
allow them to initiate their townsmen into the mysteries of cards and
Roulette, so hearing that there were some strangers living at Hombourg,
they put themselves into an old diligence, and the same evening
disembarked at the "Aigle." The next day the elder brother called upon
the prime minister, an ancient gentleman, who, with a couple of clerks,
for some L60 a year governed the Landgrafate of Hombourg to his own and
the general satisfaction. After a private interview with this statesman
the elder Blanc returned poorer in money, but with a permission in his
pocket to put up his Roulette wheel in one of the rooms of the inn. In
a few months the money of the innocent water-drinkers passed from their
pockets into those of the brothers Blanc. The ancient man of Frascati
turned the wheel, and no matter on what number the water-drinkers risked
their money, that number did not turn up. At the close of the summer
season a second visit was made to the prime minister, and the Blancs
returned to Frankfort with an exclusive concession to establish games
of hazard within the wide spreading dominions of the Landgraf. For this
they had agreed to build a kursaal, to lay out a public garden, and to
pay into the national exchequer 40,000 florins (a florin is worth one
shilling and eight-pence) per annum. Having obtained this concession,
the next step was to found a company. Frankfort abounds in Hebrew
speculators, who are not particular how they make money, and as the
speculation appeared a good one, the money was soon forthcoming. It was
decided that the nominal capital was to be 400,000 florins, divided into
shares of 100 florins each. Half the shares were subscribed for by the
Hebrew financialists, and the other half was credited to the Blancs as
the price of their concession. During the winter a small kursaal was
built and a small garden planted; the mineral well was deepened, and
flaming advertisements appeared in all the German newspapers announcing
to the world that the famous waters of Hombourg were able to cure every
disease to which flesh is heir, and that to enable visitors to while
away their evenings agreeably a salon had been opened, in which they
would have an opportunity to win fabulous sums by risking their money
either at the game of _Trente et Quarante_ or at _Roulette_. From these
small beginnings arose the "company" whose career has been so notorious.
It has enjoyed uninterrupted good fortune. During the twenty-six years
that have elapsed since its foundation, a vast palace dedicated to
gambling has been built, the village has become a town, well paved, and
lighted with gas; the neighbouring hills are covered with villas; about
eighty acres have been laid out in pleasure-grounds; roads have been
made in all directions through the surrounding woods; the visitors are
numbered by tens of thousands; there are above twenty hotels and many
hundred excellent lodging-houses.'(77)
(77) Correspondent of _Daily News._
'Let those who are disposed to risk their money inquire what is the
character of the managers, and be on their guard. The expenses of such
an enormous and splendid establishment amount to L10,000, and the shares
have for some years paid a handsome dividend--the whole of which must be
paid out of the pockets of travellers and visitors.'(78)
(78) Murray, _ubi supra_.
Mr Sala in his interesting work, already quoted, furnishes the
completest account of Hombourg, its Kursaal, and gambling, which I have
condensed as follows:--
'In Hombourg the Kursaal is everything, and the town nothing. The
extortionate hotel-keepers, the "snub-nosed rogues of counter and till,"
who overcharge you in the shops, make their egregious profits from the
Kursaal. The major part of the Landgrave's revenue is derived from the
Kursaal; he draws L5000 a year from it. He and his house are sold to
the Kursaal; and the Board of Directors of the Kursaal are the real
sovereigns and land-graves of Hesse Hombourg. They have metamorphosed a
miserable mid-German townlet into a city of palaces. Their stuccoed
and frescoed palace is five hundred times handsomer than the mouldy old
Schloss, built by William with the silver leg. They have planted the
gardens; they have imported the orange-trees; they have laid out the
park, and enclosed the hunting-grounds; they board, lodge, wash, and
tax the inhabitants; and I may say, without the slightest attempt at
punning, that the citizens are all _Kursed_.
'In the Kursaal is the ball or concert-room, at either end of which is
a gallery, supported by pillars of composition marble. The floors are
inlaid, and immense mirrors in sumptuous frames hang on the walls.
Vice can see her own image all over the establishment. The ceiling is
superbly decorated with bas-reliefs in _carton-pierre_, like those in
Mr Barry's new Covent Garden Theatre; and fresco paintings, executed by
Viotti, of Milan, and Conti, of Munich; whilst the whole is lighted
up by enormous and gorgeous chandeliers. The apartment to the right is
called the _Salle Japanese_, and is used as a dining-room for a monster
_table d'hote_, held twice a day, and served by the famous Chevet of
Paris.
'There is a huge Cafe Olympique, for smoking and imbibing purposes,
private cabinets for parties, the monster saloon, and two smaller ones,
where _FROM ELEVEN IN THE FORENOON TO ELEVEN AT NIGHT, SUNDAYS
NOT EXCEPTED, ALL THE YEAR ROUND_, and year after year--(the
"administration" have yet a "_jouissance_" of eighty-five years to run
out, guaranteed by the incoming dynasty of Hesse Darmstadt), knaves and
fools, from almost every corner of the world, gamble at the ingenious
and amusing games of _Roulette_, and _Rouge et Noir_, otherwise _Trente
et Quarante_.
'There is one table covered with green baize, tightly stretched as on a
billiard-field. In the midst of the table there is a circular pit,
coved inwards, but not bottomless, and containing the Roulette wheel, a
revolving disc, turning with an accurate momentum on a brass pillar,
and divided at its outer edge into thirty-seven narrow and shallow
pigeon-hole compartments, coloured alternately red and black, and
numbered--not consecutively--up to thirty-six. The last is a blank, and
stands for _Zero_, number _Nothing_. Round the upper edge, too, run a
series of little brass hoops, or bridges, to cause the ball to hop and
skip, and not at once into the nearest compartment. This is the regimen
of Roulette. The banker sits before the wheel,--a croupier, or payer-out
of winnings to and raker in of losses from the players, on either side.
Crying in a voice calmly sonorous, "_Faites le Jeu, Messieurs_,"--"Make
your game, gentlemen!" the banker gives the wheel a dexterous twirl, and
ere it has made one revolution, casts into its Maelstrom of black and
red an ivory ball. The interval between this and the ball finding a home
is one of breathless anxiety. Stakes are eagerly laid; but at a certain
period of the revolution the banker calls out--"_Le Jeu est fait. Rien
ne va plus_,"--and after that intimation it is useless to lay down
money. Then the banker, in the same calm and impassable voice, declares
the result. It may run thus:--"_Vingt-neuf, Noir, Impair, et Passe,"
"Twenty-nine, Black, Odd, and Pass the Rubicon_" (No. 18); or, "_Huit,
Rouge, Pair, et Manque_," "Eight, Red, Even, and _NOT_ Pass the
Rubicon."
'Now, on either side of the wheel, and extending to the extremity of the
table, run, in duplicate, the schedule of _mises_ or stakes. The green
baize first offers just thirty-six square compartments, marked out
by yellow threads woven in the fabric itself, and bearing thirty-six
consecutive numbers. If you place a florin (one and eight-pence)--and no
lower stake is permitted--or ten florins, or a Napoleon, or an English
five-pound note, or any sum of money not exceeding the maximum, whose
multiple is the highest stake which the bank, if it loses, can be made
to pay, in the midst of compartment 29, and if the banker, in that calm
voice of his, has declared that 29 has become the resting place of
the ball, the croupier will push towards you with his rake exactly
thirty-three times the amount of your stake, whatever it might have
been. You must bear in mind, however, that the bank's loss on a single
stake is limited to eight thousand francs. Moreover, if you have placed
another sum of money in the compartment inscribed, in legible yellow
colours, "_Impair_," or Odd, you will receive the equivalent to your
stake--twenty-nine being an odd number. If you have placed a coin on
_Passe_, you will also receive this additional equivalent to your
stake, twenty-nine being "Past the Rubicon," or middle of the table of
numbers--18. Again, if you have ventured your money in a compartment
bearing for device a lozenge in outline, which represents black, and
twenty-nine being a black number, you will again pocket a double stake,
that is, one in addition to your original venture. More, and more
still,--if you have risked money on the columns--that is, betted on the
number turning up corresponding with some number in one of the columns
of the tabular schedule, and have selected the right column--you have
your own stake and two others;--if you have betted on either of these
three eventualities, _douze premier, douze milieu_, or _douze dernier_,
otherwise "first dozen," "middle dozen," or "last dozen," as one
to twelve, thirteen to twenty-four, twenty-five to thirty-six, all
inclusive, and have chanced to select _douze dernier_, the division in
which No. 29 occurs, you also obtain a treble stake, namely, your own
and two more which the bank pays you, your florin or your five-pound
note--benign fact!--metamorphosed into three. But, woe to the wight
who should have ventured on the number "eight," on the red colour
(compartment with a crimson lozenge), on "even," and on "not past
the Rubicon;" for twenty-nine does not comply with any one of these
conditions. He loses, and his money is coolly swept away from him by the
croupier's rake. With reference to the last chances I enumerated in the
last paragraph, I should mention that the number _EIGHT_ would lie in
the second column--there being three columns,--and in the first dozen
numbers.
'There are more chances, or rather subdivisions of chances, to entice
the player to back the "numbers;" for these the stations of the ball are
as capricious as womankind; and it is, of course, extremely rare that a
player will fix upon the particular number that happens to turn up. But
he may place a piece of money _a cheval_, or astride, on the line which
divides two numbers, in which case (either of the numbers turning up)
he receives sixteen times his stake. He may place it on the cross lines
that divide four numbers, and, if either of the four wins, he will
receive eight times the amount of his stake. A word as to _Zero_. Zero
is designated by the compartment close to the wheel's diameter, and
zero, or blank, will turn up, on an average, about once in seventy
times. If you have placed money in zero, and the ball seeks that haven,
you will receive thirty-three times your stake.'
The twin or elder brother of _Roulette_, played at Hombourg, _Rouge et
Noir_, or _Trente et Quarante_, is thus described by Mr Sala:--
'There is the ordinary green-cloth covered table, with its brilliant
down-coming lights. In the centre sits the banker, gold and silver in
piles and _rouleaux_, and bank-notes before him. On either hand, the
croupier, as before, now wielding the rakes and plying them to bring
in the money, now balancing them, now shouldering them, as soldiers do
their muskets, half-pay officers their canes, and dandies their silk
umbrellas. The banker's cards are, as throughout all the Rhenish
gaming-places, of French design; the same that were invented, or, at
least, first used in Europe, for crazy Charles the Simple. These cards
are placed on an inclined plane of marble, called a _talon_.
'The dealer first takes six packs of cards, shuffles them, and
distributes them in various parcels to the various punters or players
round the table, to shuffle and mix. He then finally shuffles them, and
takes and places the end cards into various parts of the three hundred
and twelve cards, until he meets with a _court card_, which he must
place upright at the end. This done, he presents the pack to one of
the players to cut, who places the pictured card where the _dealer_
separates the pack, and that part of the pack beyond the pictured card
he places at the end nearest him, leaving the pictured card at the
bottom of the pack.
'The dealer then takes a certain number of cards, about as many as would
form a pack, and, looking at the first card, to know its colour, puts it
on the table with its face downwards. He then takes two cards, one red
and the other black, and sets them back to back. These cards are turned,
and displayed conspicuously, as often as the colour varies, for the
information of the company.
'The gamblers having staked their money on either of the colours, the
dealer asks, "_Votre jeu est-il fait?_" "Is your game made?" or,
"_Votre jeu est-il piet?_" "Is your game ready?" or, "_Le jeu est pret,
Messieurs_," "The game is ready, gentlemen." He then deals the first
card with its face upwards, saying "_Noir;_" and continues dealing until
the cards turned exceed thirty points or pips in number, which number
he must mention, as "_Trente-et-un_," or "_Trente-six_," as the case may
be.
'As the aces reckon but for one, no card after thirty can make up forty;
the dealer, therefore, does not declare the _tens_ after _thirty-one_,
or upwards, but merely the units, as one, two, three; if the number of
points dealt for _Noir_ are thirty-five he says "_Cinq_."
'Another parcel is then dealt for _rouge_, or _red_, and with equal
deliberation and solemnity; and if the players stake beyond the colour
that comes to _thirty-one_ or nearest to it, he wins, which happy
eventuality is announced by the dealer crying--"_Rouge gagne_," "Red
wins," or "_Rouge perd_," "Red loses." These two parcels, one for each
colour, make a _coup_. The same number of parcels being dealt for each
colour, the dealer says, "_Apres_," "After." This is a "doublet," called
in the amiable French tongue, "_un refait_," by which neither party
wins, unless both colours come to _thirty-one_, which the dealer
announces by saying, "_Un refait Trente-et-un_," and he wins half the
stakes posted on both colours. He, however, does not take the money, but
removes it to the middle line, and the players may change the _venue_ of
their stakes if they please. This is called the first "prison," or
_la premiere prison_, and, if they win their next event, they draw the
entire stake. In case of another "_refait_," the money is removed into
the third line, which is called the second prison. So you see that there
are wheels within wheels, and Lord Chancellor King's dictum, that walls
can be built higher, but there should be no prison within a prison, is
sometimes reversed.
When this happens the dealer wins all.
'The cards are sometimes cut for which colour shall be dealt first; but,
in general, the first parcel is for _black_, and the second for _red_.
The odds against a "_refait_" turning up are usually reckoned as 63 to
1. The bankers, however, acknowledge that they expect it twice in three
deals, and there are generally from twenty-nine to thirty-two coups in
each deal. The odds in favour of winning several times are about the
same as in the game of Pharaon, and are as delusive. 'He who goes to
Hombourg and expects to see any melodramatic manifestation of rage,
disappointment, and despair in the losing players, reckons without his
host. Winners or losers seldom speak above a whisper; and the only sound
that is heard above the suppressed buzz of conversation, the muffled
jingle of the money on the green cloth, the "sweep" of the croupiers'
rakes, and the ticking of the very ornate French clocks on the
mantel-pieces, is the impassibly metallic voice of the banker, as he
proclaims his "_Rouge perd_," or "_Couleur gagne_." People are too
genteel at Hombourg-von-der-Hohe to scream, to yell, to fall into
fainting fits, or go into convulsions, because they have lost four or
five thousand francs or so in a single coup.
'I have heard of one gentleman, indeed, who, after a ruinous loss, put
a pistol to his head, and discharging it, spattered his brains over the
Roulette wheel. It was said that the banker, looking up calmly, called
out--'_Triple Zero,' 'Treble Nothing_,'--a case as yet unheard of in
the tactics of Roulette, but signifying annihilation,--and that, a cloth
being thrown over the ensanguined wheel, the bank of that particular
table was declared to be closed for the day. Very probably the whole
story is but a newspaper _canard_, devised by the proprietors of some
rival gaming establishment, who would have been delighted to see the
fashionable Hombourg under a cloud.
'When people want to commit suicide at Hombourg, they do it genteelly;
early in the morning, or late at night, in the solitude of their own
apartments at the hotels. It would be reckoned a gross breach of good
manners to scandalize the refined and liberal administration of the
Kursaal by undisguised _felo-de-se_. The devil on two _croupes_ at
Hombourg is the very genteelest of demons imaginable. He ties his
tail up with cherry-coloured ribbon, and conceals his cloven foot in
a patent-leather boot. All this gentility and varnish, and elegant
veneering of the sulphurous pit, takes away from him, if it does not
wholly extinguish, the honour and loathing for a common gaming-house,
with which the mind of a wellured English youth has been sedulously
imbued by his parents and guardians. He has very probably witnessed the
performance of the "Gamester" at the theatre, and been a spectator of
the remorseful agonies of Mr Beverly, the virtuous sorrows of Mrs B.,
and the dark villanies of Messieurs Dawson and Bates.
'The first visit of the British youth to the Kursaal is usually paid
with fear and trembling. He is with difficulty persuaded to enter the
accursed place. When introduced to the saloons--delusively called _de
conversation_, he begins by staring fixedly at the chandeliers, the
ormolu clocks, and the rich draperies, and resolutely averts his eyes
from the serried ranks of punters or players, and the Pactolus, whose
sands are circulating on the green cloth on the table. Then he thinks
there is no very great harm in looking on, and so peeps over the
shoulder of a moustached gamester, who perhaps whispers to him in the
interval between two coups, that if a man will only play carefully, and
be content with moderate gains, he may win sufficient--taking the
good days and the evil days in a lump--to keep him in a decent kind of
affluence all the year round. Indeed, I once knew a croupier--we used to
call him Napoleon, from the way he took snuff from his waistcoat pocket,
who was in the way of expressing a grave conviction that it was possible
to make a capital living at Roulette, so long as you stuck to the
colours, and avoided the Scylla of the numbers and the Charybdis of the
Zero. By degrees, then, the shyness of the neophyte wears off. Perhaps
in the course of his descent of Avernus, a revulsion of feeling takes
place, and, horror-struck and ashamed, he rushes out of the Kursaal,
determined to enter its portals no more. Then he temporizes; remembers
that there is a capital reading-room, provided with all the newspapers
and periodicals of civilized Europe, attached to the Kursaalian
premises. There can be no harm, he thinks, in glancing over "Galignani"
or the "Charivari," although under the same roof as the abhorred _Trente
et Quarante;_ but, alas! he finds _Galignani_ engaged by an acrid old
lady of morose countenance, who has lost all her money by lunch-time,
and is determined to "take it out in reading," and the _Charivari_
slightly clenched in one hand by the deaf old gentleman with the dingy
ribbon of the Legion of Honour, and the curly brown wig pushed up over
one ear, who always goes to sleep on the soft and luxurious velvet
couches of the Kursaal reading-room, from eleven till three, every day,
Sundays not excepted. The disappointed student of home or foreign news
wanders back to one of the apartments where play is going, on. In fact,
he does not know what to do with himself until table-d'hote time. You
know what the moral bard, Dr Watts says:--
"Satan finds some mischief still, For idle hands to do."
The unfledged gamester watches the play more narrowly. A stout lady in
a maroon velvet mantle, and a man with a bald head, a black patch on
his occiput, and gold spectacles, obligingly makes way for him. He finds
himself pressed against the very edge of the table. Perhaps a chair--one
of those delightfully comfortable Kursaal chairs--is vacant. He is tired
with doing nothing, and sinks into the emolliently-cushioned _fauteuil_.
He fancies that he has caught the eye of the banker, or one of the
gentlemen of the _croupe_, and that they are meekly inviting him to
try his luck. "Well, there can't be much harm in risking a florin," he
murmurs. He stakes his silver-piece on a number or a colour. He wins,
we will say, twice or thrice. Perhaps he quadruples his stake, nay,
perchance, hits on the lucky number. It turns up, and he receives
thirty-five times the amount of his _mise_. Thenceforth it is all over
with that ingenuous British youth. The Demon of Play has him for his
own, and he may go on playing and playing until he has lost every florin
of his own, or as many of those belonging to other people as he can beg
or borrow. Far more fortunate for him would it be in the long run, if
he met in the outset with a good swinging loss. The burnt child
_DOES_ dread the fire as a rule; but there is this capricious, almost
preternatural, feature of the physiology of gaming, that the young and
inexperienced generally win in the first instance. They are drawn on and
on, and in and in. They begin to lose, and continue to lose, and by the
time they have cut their wise teeth they have neither sou nor silver to
make their dearly-bought wisdom available.
'At least one-half of the company may be assumed to be arrant
rascals--rascals male and rascals female--_chevaliers d'industrie_, the
offscourings of all the shut-up gambling-houses in Europe, demireps and
_lorettes_, single and married women innumerable.'
In the course of the three visits he has paid to Hombourg, Mr Sala
has observed that 'nine-tenths of the English visitors to the Kursaal,
play;' and he does not hesitate to say that the moths who flutter round
the garish lamps at the Kursaal Van der Hohe, and its kindred Hades,
almost invariably singe their wings; and that the chaseer at _Roulette_
and _Rouge_, generally turn out edged tools, with which those incautious
enough to play with them are apt to cut their fingers, sometimes very
dangerously.
The season of 1869 in Hombourg is thus depicted in a high class
newspaper.
'Never within the memory of the oldest inhabitant (who in this instance
must undoubtedly be that veteran player Countess Kisselef) has the town
witnessed such an influx of tourists of every class and description.
Hotels and lodging-houses are filled to overflowing. Every day imprudent
travellers who have neglected the precaution of securing rooms before
their arrival return disconsolately to Frankfort to await the vacation
of some apartment which a condescending landlord has promised them after
much negotiation for the week after next. The morning promenade is a
wonderful sight; such a host of bilious faces, such an endless variety
of eccentric costumes, such a Babel of tongues, among which the shrill
twang of our fair American cousins is peculiarly prominent, could
be found in no other place in the civilized world. A moralist would
assuredly find here abundant food for reflection on the wonderful
powers of self-deception possessed by mankind. We all get up at most
inconvenient hours, swallow a certain quantity of a most nauseous
fluid, and then, having sacrificed so much to appearances, soothe our
consciences with the unfounded belief that a love of early rising and
salt water was our real reason for coming here, and that the gambling
tables had nothing whatever to do with it. Perhaps, in some few
instances, this view may be the correct one; some few invalids, say
one in a hundred, may have sought Hombourg solely in the interest of an
impaired digestion, but I fear that such cases are few and far between;
and, as a friend afflicted with a mania for misquotation remarked to me
the other day, even "those who come to drink remain to play."
'Certainly the demon of Rouge et Noir has never held more undisputed
sway in Hombourg than in the present season; never have the tables
groaned under such a load of notes and rouleaux. It would seem as if the
gamblers, having only two or more years left in which to complete
their ruin, were hurrying on with redoubled speed to that desirable
consummation, and where a stake of 12,000 francs is allowed on a single
coup the pace can be made very rapid indeed. High play is so common
that unless you are lucky enough to win or rich enough to lose a hundred
thousand francs at least, you need not hope to excite either envy or
commiseration. One persevering Muscovite, who has been punting steadily
for six weeks, has actually succeeded in getting rid of a million of
florins. As yet there have been no suicides to record, owing probably to
the precautionary measures adopted by a paternal Administration. As soon
as a gambler is known to be utterly cleared out he at once receives a
visit from one of M. Blanc's officials, who offers him a small sum on
condition he will leave the town forthwith; which viaticum, however, for
fear of accidents, is only handed to him when fairly seated in the train
that bears him away, to blow out his brains, should he feel so inclined,
elsewhere. One of the most unpleasant facts connected with the gambling
is the ardour displayed by many ladies in this very unfeminine pursuit:
last night out of twenty-five persons seated at the Roulette table I
counted no fewer than fifteen ladies, including an American lady with
her two daughters!
'The King of Prussia has arrived, and, with due deference to the
official editors who have described in glowing paragraphs the popular
demonstrations in his honour, I am bound to assert that he was received
with very modified tokens of delight. There was not even a repetition of
the triumphal arch of last year; those funereal black and white flags,
whose sole aspect is enough to repress any exuberance of rejoicing,
were certainly flapping against the hotel windows and the official
flagstaffs, but little else testified to the joy of the Hombourgers at
beholding their Sovereign. They manage these things better in France.
Any French _prefet_ would give the German authorities a few useful hints
concerning the cheap and speedy manufacture of loyal enthusiasm. The
foreigners, however, seem determined to atone amply for any lack of
proper feeling on the part of the townspeople. They crowd round his
Majesty as soon as he appears in the rooms or gardens, and mob the
poor old gentleman with a vigour which taxes all the energies of his
aides-de-camp to save their Royal master from death by suffocation. Need
I add that our old friend the irrepressible "'Arry" is ever foremost in
these gentlemanlike demonstrations?
'Of course the town swarms with well-known English faces; indeed, the
Peers and M.P.s here at present would form a very respectable party in
the two Houses. We are especially well off for dukes; the _Fremdenliste_
notifies the presence of no fewer than five of those exalted personages.
A far less respectable class of London society is also, I am sorry
to say, strongly represented: I allude to those gentlemen of the
light-fingered persuasion whom the outer world rudely designate
as pickpockets. This morning two gorgeously arrayed members of the
fraternity were marched down to the station by the police, each being
decorated with a pair of bright steel handcuffs; seventeen of them were
arrested last week in Frankfort at one fell swoop, and at the tables
the row of lookers-on who always surround the players consists in
about equal proportions of these gentry and their natural enemies--the
detectives. Their booty since the beginning of the season must be
reckoned by thousands. Mustapha Fazyl Pasha had his pocket picked of
a purse containing L600, and a Russian lady was lately robbed of a
splendid diamond brooch valued at 75,000 francs.(79)
(79) Pall Mall Gazette, Aug. 1869.
But the days of the Kursaal are numbered, and the glories or infamies of
Hombourg are doomed.
'The fiat has gone forth. In five years(80) from this time the "game
will be made" no longer--the great gambling establishment of Hombourg
will be a thing of the past. The town will be obliged to contend on
equal terms with other watering-places for its share of the wool on the
backs of summer excursionists.
(80) In 1872.
'As most of the townspeople are shareholders in this thriving concern,
and as all of them gain either directly or indirectly by the play,
it was amusing to watch the anxiety of these worthies during the war
between Austria and Prussia. Patriotism they had none; they cared
neither for Austrian nor Prussian, for a great Germany nor for a
small Germany. The "company" was their god and their country. All that
concerned them was to know whether the play was likely to be suppressed.
When they were annexed to Prussia, at first they could not believe
that Count Bismarck, whatever he might do with kings, would
venture to interfere with the "bank." It was to them a divine
institution--something far superior to dynasties and kingdoms....
'For a year the Hombourgers were allowed to suppose that their "peculiar
institution" was indeed superior to fate, to public opinion, and to
Prussia; but at the commencement of the present year they were rudely
awakened from their dreams of security. The sword that had been hanging
over them fell. The directors of the company were ordered to appear
before the governor of the town, and they were told that they and all
belonging to them were to cease to exist in 1872, and that the following
arrangement was to be made respecting the plunder gained until that
date. The shareholders were to receive 10 per cent. on their money; 5000
shares were to be paid off at par each year, and if this did not absorb
all the profits, the surplus was to go towards a fund for keeping up
the gardens after the play had ceased. By this means, as there are now
36,000 shares, 25,000 will be paid off at par, and the remaining 11,000
will be represented by the buildings and the land belonging to the
company, which it will be at liberty to sell to the highest bidder.
Since this decree has been promulgated the Hombourgers are in despair.
The croupiers and the clerks, the Jews who lend money at high interest,
the Christians who let lodgings, all the rogues and swindlers who one
way or another make a living out of the play, fill the air with their
complaints.
'Although no doubt individuals will suffer by the suppression of public
play here, it is by no means certain that the town itself will not be a
gainer by it. Holiday seekers must go somewhere. The air of Hombourg is
excellent; the waters are invigorating; the town is well situated and
easy of access by rail; living is comparatively cheap--a room may be had
for about 18_s_. a week, an excellent dinner for 2_s_.; breakfast
costs less than a shilling. Hombourg is now a fixed fact, and if the
townspeople take heart and grapple with the new state of things--if they
buy up the Kursaal, and throw open its salons to visitors; if they keep
up the opera, the cricket club, and the shooting; if they have good
music, and balls and concerts for those who like them, there is no
reason why they should not attract as many visitors to their town as
they do now.'(81)
(81) Correspondent of _Daily News._
AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.
The gaming at Aix-la-Chapelle is equally desperate and destructive.
'A Russian officer of my acquaintance,' says a writer in the Annual
Register for 1818, 'was subject, like many of his countrymen whom I
have known, to the infatuation of play to a most ridiculous excess.
His distrust of himself under the assailments which he anticipated at
a place like Aix-la-Chapelle, had induced him to take the prudent
precaution of paying in advance at his hotel for his board and lodging,
and at the bathing-house for his baths, for the time he intended to
stay. The remaining contents of his purse he thought fairly his own;
and he went of course to the table all the gayer for the license he had
taken of his conscience. On fortune showing him a few favours, he came
to me in high spirits, with a purse full of Napoleons, and a resolute
determination to keep them by venturing no more; but a gamester can no
more be stationary than the tide of a river, and on the evening he
was put out of suspense by having not a Napoleon left, and nothing to
console but congratulation on his foresight, and the excellent supper
which was the fruit of it.'
Towards the end of the last century Aix-la-Chapelle was a great
rendezvous of gamblers. The chief banker there paid a thousand louis
per annum for his license. A little Italian adventurer once went to the
place with only a few louis in his pocket, and played crown stakes at
Hazard. Fortune smiled on him; he increased his stakes progressively; in
twenty-four hours won about L4000. On the following day he stripped the
bank entirely, pocketing nearly L10,000. He continued to play for some
days, till he was at last reduced to a single louis! He now obtained
from a friend the loan of L30, and once more resumed his station at the
gaming table, which he once more quitted with L10,000 in his pocket,
and resolved to leave it for ever. The arguments of one of the
bankers, however, who followed him to his inn, soon prevailed over his
resolution, and on his return to the gaming table he was stripped of his
last farthing. He went to his lodgings, sold his clothes, and by that
means again appeared at his old haunt, for the half-crown stakes, by
which he honourably repaid his loan of L30. His end was unknown to the
relater of the anecdote, but 'ten to one,' it was ruin.
At the same place, in the year 1793, the heir-apparent of an Irish
Marquis lost at various times nearly L20,000 at a billiard table, partly
owing to his antagonist being an excellent calculator, as well as a
superior player.
A French emigrant at Aix-la-Chapelle, who carried a basket of tarts,
liqueurs, &c., for regaling the gamesters, put down twenty-five louis at
_Rouge et Noir_. He lost. He then put down fifteen, and lost again; at
the third turn he staked ten; but while the cards were being shuffled,
seeming to recollect himself, he felt all his pockets, and at length
found two large French crowns, and a small one, which he also ventured.
The deal was determined at the ninth card; and the poor wretch, who had
lost his all, dashed down his basket, started from his seat, overturning
two chairs as he forced the circle, tore off his hair, and with horrid
blasphemies, burst the folding doors, and rushing out like a madman, was
seen no more.
Another emigrant arrived here penniless, but meeting a friend, obtained
the loan of a few crowns, nearly his all. With these he went to the
rooms, put down his stake, and won. He then successively doubled his
stakes till he closed the evening with a hundred louis in his pocket.
He went to his friend, and with mutual congratulations they resolved to
venture no more, and calculated how long their gains would support them
from absolute want, and thus seemed to strengthen their wise resolution.
The next night, however, the lucky gambler returned to the room--but
only to be a spectator, as he firmly said. Alas! his resolution failed
him, and he quitted the tables indebted to a charitable bystander for a
livre or two, to pay for his petty refreshments.
It is said that the annual profit to the bankers was 120,000 florins, or
L14,000.
'The very name of Aix-la-Chapelle,' says a traveller, 'makes one think
(at least, makes me think) of cards and dice,--sharks and pigeons.
It has a "professional odour" upon it, which is certainly not that of
sanctity. I entered the Redoute with my head full of sham barons, German
Catalinas, and the thousand-and-one popular tales of renowned knights of
the green cloth,--their seducing confederates, and infatuated dupes.
'The rooms are well distributed; the saloons handsome. A sparkling of
ladies, apparently (and really, as I understood) of the best water, the
_elite_, in short, of Aix-la-Chapelle, were lounging on sofas placed
round the principal saloon, or fluttering about amidst a crowd of men,
who filled up the centre of the room, or thronged round the tables that
were ranged on one side of it.
'The players continued their occupation in death-like silence,
undisturbed by the buzz or the gaze of the lookers-on; not a sound was
heard but the rattle of the heaped-up money, as it was passed from one
side of the table to the other; nor was the smallest anxiety or emotion
visible on any countenance.
'The scene was unpleasing, though to me curious from its novelty.
Ladies are admitted to play, but there were none occupied this morning.
I was glad of it; indeed, though English travellers are accused of
carrying about with them a portable code of morality, which dissolves or
stiffens like a soap-cake as circumstances may affect its consistency,
yet I sincerely believe that there are few amongst us who would not
feel shocked at seeing one of the gentler sex in so unwomanly a
position.'(82)
(82) Reminiscences of the Rhine, &c. Anon.
WIESBADEN.
The gambling here in 1868 has been described in a very vivid manner.
'Since the enforcement of the Prussian Sunday observance regulations,
Monday has become the great day of the week for the banks of the German
gambling establishments. Anxious to make up for lost time, the regular
contributors to the company's dividends flock early on Monday forenoon
to the play-rooms in order to secure good places at the tables, which,
by the appointed hour for commencing operations (eleven o'clock), are
closely hedged round by persons of both sexes, eagerly waiting for the
first deal of the cards or the initial twist of the brass wheel, that
they may try another fall with Fortune. Before each seated player are
arranged precious little piles of gold and silver, a card printed
in black and red, and a long pin, wherewith to prick out a system of
infallible gain. The croupiers take their seats and unpack the strong
box; rouleaux--long metal sausages composed of double and single
florins,--wooden bowls brimming over with gold Frederics and Napoleons,
bank notes of all sizes and colours, are arranged upon the black leather
compartment, ruled over by the company's officers; half-a-dozen packs
of new cards are stripped of their paper cases, and swiftly shuffled
together; and when all these preliminaries, watched with breathless
anxiety by the surrounding speculators, have been gravely and carefully
executed, the chief croupier looks round him--a signal for the prompt
investment of capital on all parts of the table--chucks out a handful of
cards from the mass packed together convenient to his hand--ejaculates
the formula, "Faites le jeu!" and, after half a minute's pause, during
which he delicately moistens the ball of his dealing thumb, exclaims "Le
jeu est fait, rien ne va plus," and proceeds to interpret the decrees of
fate according to the approved fashion of Trente et Quarante. A similar
scene is taking place at the Roulette table--a goodly crop of florins,
with here and there a speck of gold shining amongst the silver harvest,
is being sown over the field of the cloth of green, soon to be reaped
by the croupier's sickle, and the pith ball is being dropped into the
revolving basin that is partitioned off into so many tiny black and red
niches. For the next twelve hours the processes in question are carried
on swiftly and steadily, without variation or loss of time; relays of
croupiers are laid on, who unobtrusively slip into the places of their
fellows when the hours arrive for relieving guard; the game is never
stopped for more than a couple of minutes at a time, viz., when the
cards run out and have to be re-shuffled. This brief interruption is
commonly considered to portend a break in the particular vein which the
game may have happened to assume during the deal--say a run upon black
or red, an alternation of coups (in threes or fours) upon either
colour, two reds and a black, or _vice versa_, all equally frequent
eccentricities of the cards; and the heavier players often change
their seats, or leave the table altogether for an hour or so at such a
conjuncture. Curiously enough, excepting at the very commencement of the
day's play, the _habitues_ of the Trente et Quarante tables appear to
entertain a strong antipathy to the first deal or two after the cards
have been "re-made." I have been told by one or two masters of the craft
that they have a fancy to see how matters are likely to go before they
strike in, as if it were possible to deduce the future of the game from
its past! That it is possible appears to be an article of faith with
the old stagers, and, indeed, every now and then odd coincidences occur
which tend to confirm them in their creed. I witnessed an occurrence
which was either attributable (as I believe) to sheer chance, or (as
its hero earnestly assured me) to instinct. A fair and frail Magyar was
punting on numbers with immense pluck and uniform ill fortune. Behind
her stood a Viennese gentleman of my acquaintance, who enjoys a certain
renown amongst his friends for the faculty of prophecy, which, however,
he seldom exercises for his own benefit. Observing that she hesitated
about staking her double florin, he advised her to set it on the number
3. Round went the wheel, and in twenty seconds the ball tumbled into
compartment 3 sure enough. At the next turn she asked his advice, and
was told to try number 24. No sooner said than done, and 24 came up in
due course, whereby Mdlle L. C. won 140 odd gulden in two coups, the
amount risked by her being exactly four florins. Like a wise girl, she
walked off with her booty, and played no more that day at Roulette.
A few minutes later I saw an Englishman go through the performance of
losing four thousand francs by experimentalizing on single numbers.
Twenty times running did he set ten louis-d'ors on a number (varying the
number at each stake), and not one of his selection proved successful.
At the "Thirty and Forty" I saw an eminent diplomatist win sixty
thousand francs with scarcely an intermission of failure; he played all
over the table, pushing his rouleaux backwards and forwards, from black
to red, without any appearance of system that I could detect, and the
cards seemed to follow his inspiration. It was a great battle; as usual,
three or four smaller fish followed in his wake, till they lost courage
and set against him, much to their discomfiture and the advantage of the
bank; but from first to last--that is, till the cards ran out, and he
left the table--he was steadily victorious. In the evening he went in
again for another heavy bout, at which I chanced to be present; but
fortune had forsaken him; and he not only lost his morning's winnings,
but eight thousand francs to boot. I do not remember to have ever
seen the tables so crowded--outside it was thundering, lightening, and
raining as if the world were coming to an end, and the whole floating
population of Wiesbaden was driven into the Kursaal by the weather. A
roaring time of it had the bank; when play was over, about which time
the rain ceased, hundreds of hot and thirsty gamblers streamed out of
the reeking rooms to the glazed-in terrace, and the next hour, always
the pleasantest of the twenty-four here and in Hombourg--at Ems people
go straight from the tables to bed,--was devoted to animated chat and
unlimited sherry-cobbler; all the "events" of the day were passed in
review, experiences exchanged, and confessions made. Nobody had won; I
could not hear of a single great success--the bank had had it all its
own way, and most of the "lions," worsted in the fray, had evidently
made up their minds to "drown it in the bowl." The Russian detachment--a
very strong one this year--was especially hard hit; Spain and Italy were
both unusually low-spirited; and there was an extra solemnity about the
British Isles that told its own sad tale. Englishmen, when they have
lost more than they can afford, generally take it out of themselves in
surly, brooding self-reproach. Frenchmen give vent to their disgust and
annoyance by abusing the game and its myrmidons. You may hear them,
loud and savage, on the terrace, "Ah! le salle jeu! comment peut-on se
laisser eplucher par des brigands de la sorte! Tripot, infame, va! je
te donne ma malediction!" Italians, again, endeavour to conceal their
discomfiture under a flow of feverish gaiety. Germans utter one or two
"Gotts donnerwetterhimmelsapperment!" light up their cigars, drink a
dozen or so "hocks," and subside into their usual state of ponderous
cheerfulness. Russians betray no emotion whatever over their calamities,
save, perhaps, that they smoke those famous little 'Laferme' cigarettes
a trifle faster and more nervously than at other times; but they are
excellent winners and magnificent losers, only to be surpassed in either
respect by their old enemy the Turk, who is _facile princeps_ in the art
of hiding his feelings from the outer world.
'The great mass of visitors at Wiesbaden this season, as at Hombourg,
belong to the middle and lower middle classes, leavened by a very few
celebrities and persons of genuine distinction. There are a dozen or two
eminent men here, not to be seen in the play-rooms, who are taking the
waters--Lord Clarendon, Baron Rothschild, Prince Souvarof, and a few
more--but the general run of guests is by no means remarkable for birth,
wealth, or respectability; and we are shockingly off for ladies. As
a set-off against this deficiency, it would seem that all the aged,
broken-down courtesans of Paris, Vienna, and Berlin have agreed to make
Wiesbaden their autumn rendezvous. Arrayed in all the colours of
the rainbow, painted up to the roots of their dyed hair, shamelessly
_decolletees_, prodigal of "free" talk and unseemly gesture, these
ghastly creatures, hideous caricatures of youth and beauty, flaunt
about the play-rooms and gardens, levying black-mail upon those who are
imprudent enough to engage them in "chaff" or badinage, and desperately
endeavouring to hook themselves on to the wealthier and younger members
of the male community. They poison the air round them with sickly
perfumes; they assume titles, and speak of one another as "cette chere
comtesse;" their walk is something between a prance and a wriggle; they
prowl about the terrace whilst the music is playing, seeking whom they
may devour, or rather whom they may inveigle into paying for their
devouring: and, _bon Dieu!_ how they do gorge themselves with food and
drink when some silly lad or aged roue allows himself to be bullied
or wheedled into paying their scot! Their name is legion; and they
constitute the very worst feature of a place which, naturally a
Paradise, is turned into a seventh hell by the uncontrolled rioting
of human passions. They have no friends--no "protectors;" they are
dependent upon accident for a meal or a piece of gold to throw away at
the tables; they are plague-spots upon the face of society; they are,
as a rule, crassly ignorant and horribly cynical; and yet there are many
men here who are proud of their acquaintance, always ready to entertain
them in the most expensive manner, and who speak of them as if they were
the only desirable companions in the world!
'Amongst our notabilities of the eccentric sort, not the least singular
in her behaviour is the Countess C----o, an aged patrician of immense
fortune, who is as constant to Wiesbaden as old Madame de K----f is to
Hombourg on the Heights. Like the last-named lady, she is daily wheeled
to her place in the Black and Red temple, and plays away for eight or
nine hours with wonderful spirit and perseverance. She has with her a
_suite_ of eight domestics; and when she wins (which is not often), on
returning to her hotel at night, she presents each member of her
retinue with--twopence! "not," as she naively avows, "from a feeling of
generosity, but to propitiate Fortune." When she loses, none of them,
save the man who wheels her home, get anything but hard words from her;
and he, happy fellow, receives a donation of six kreutzers. She does not
curse the croupiers loudly for her bad luck, like her contemporary, the
once lovely Russian Ambassadress; but, being very far advanced in years,
and of a tender disposition, sheds tears over her misfortunes, resting
her chin on the edge of the table. An edifying sight is this venerable
dame, bearing an exalted title, as she mopes and mouths over her varying
luck, missing her stake twice out of three times, when she fain would
push it with her rake into some particular section of the table! She is
very intimate with one or two antediluvian diplomatists and warriors,
who are here striving to bolster themselves up for another year with the
waters, and may be heard crowing out lamentations over her fatal passion
for play, interspersed with bits of moss-grown scandal, disinterred
from the social ruins of an age long past: Radetzky, Wratislaw (le beau
sabreur), the two Schwarzenbergs (he of Leipsic, and the former Prime
Minister), Paul Eszterhazy, Wrangel, and Blucher were friends of her
youth; judging from her appearance, one would not be surprised to hear
that she had received a "poulet" from Baron Trenck, or played whist with
Maria Theresa. She has outlived all human friendships or affections, and
exists only for the chink of the gold as it jingles on the gaming table.
I cannot help fancying that her last words will be "Rien ne va
plus!" She is a great and convincing moral, if one but interpret her
rightly.'(83)
(83) Daily Telegraph, Aug. 15, 1868.
The doom of the German gaming houses seems to be settled. They will all
be closed in 1872, as appears by the following announcement:--
'The Prussian government, not having been able to obtain from the
lessees of the gaming tables at Wiesbaden, Ems, and Hombourg their
consent to their cancelling of their contracts, has resolved to
terminate their privileges by a legislative measure. It has presented a
bill to the Chamber of Deputies at Berlin, fixing the year 1872 as the
limit to the existence of these establishments, and even authorizing the
government to suppress them at an earlier period by a royal
ordinance. No indemnity is to be allowed to the persons holding
concessions.'--_Feb_. 23, 1868.
A London newspaper defends this measure in a very successful manner.
'Prussia has declared her purpose to eradicate from the territories
subject to her increased sway, and from others recognizing her
influence, the disgrace of the _Rouge et Noir_ and the Roulette table
as public institutions. Her reasoning is to the effect that they
bring scandal upon Germany; that they associate with the names of its
favourite watering-places the appellation of "hells;" that they attract
swindlers and adventurers of every degree; and that they have for many a
year past been held up to the opprobrium of Europe. For why should this
practice be a lawful practice of Germany and of no other country in
Europe? Why not in France, in Spain, in Italy, in the Northern States,
in Great Britain itself? Let us not give to this last proposition more
importance than it is worth. The German watering-places are places of
leisure, of trifling, of _ennui_. That is why, originally, they were
selected as encampments by the tribes which fatten upon hazards. But
there was another reason: they brought in welcome revenues to needy
princes. Even now, in view of the contemplated expurgation, Monaco is
named, with Geneva, as successor to the perishing glories of Hombourg,
Wiesbaden, and the great Baden itself. That is to say, the gamblers,
or, rather, the professionals who live upon the gambling propensities of
others, having received from Prussia and her friends notice to quit, are
in search of new lodgings.
'The question is, they being determined, and the accommodation being
not less certainly ready for them than the sea is for the tribute of
a river, will the reform designed be a really progressive step in the
civilization of Europe? Prussia says--decidedly so; because it will
demolish an infamous privilege. She affirms that an institution which
might have been excusable under a landgrave, with a few thousand acres
of territory, is inconsistent with the dignity and, to quote continental
phraseology, the mission of a first-class state. Here again the
reasoning is incontrovertible. Of one other thing, moreover, we may feel
perfectly sure, that Prussia having determined to suppress these centres
and sources of corruption, they will gradually disappear from Europe.
Concede to them a temporary breathing-time at Monaco; the time left for
even a nominally independent existence to Monaco is short: imagine that
they find a fresh outlet at Geneva; Prussia will have represented the
public opinion of the age, against which not even the Republicanism of
Switzerland can long make a successful stand. Upon the whole, history
can never blame Prussia for such a use either of her conquests or her
influence. Say what you will, gambling is an indulgence blushed over in
England; abroad, practised as a little luxury in dissipation, it may be
pardoned as venial; habitually, however, it is a leprosy. And as it is
by habitual gamblers that these haunts are made to flourish, this alone
should reconcile the world of tourists to a deprivation which for them
must be slight; while to the class they imitate, without equalling, it
will be the prohibition of an abominable habit.'(84)
(84) Extracts from a 'leader' in the Standard of Sept. 4, 1869.