Another professional sport who figured prominently before the public at that time as proprietor of two “dollar stores,” with back-room attachments where “bunko” and “top and bottom” were played, has since become a reputable citizen, the proprietor of a large store in Chicago, and is reputed to be millionaire.
The press scored Colvin roundly, and the indignation of the decent, law-abiding citizens against him knew no bounds. Threats of impeachment were freely made but never enforced. Vice and crime continually stalked brazenly through the streets until the close of his term when he was succeeded by Mayor Hoyne, who gave way, in turn, to Heath.
The rule of the latter was as radically stringent as that of Colvin had been disreputably lax. He at once set about righting many wrongs, establishing order, and enforcing the laws. The work which he thus mapped out was an herculean task, for pandemonium reigned and the “gang” was determined not to be driven out without making a severe struggle. One of Heath’s first orders was to the effect that the gambling houses should be closed. The proprietors seemingly acquiesced, but actually carried on business surreptitiously, and raiding was at once begun. When the police endeavored to force an entrance into the gambling rooms at the “Store,” a well known resort on Clark Street, connected with a hotel, they committed the blunder of breaking into the rooms of the caravansary. The wife of the proprietor promptly resented this intrusion upon the premises by firing at the officers, although no one was hit. She was arrested and defended by A. S. Trude, who secured her discharge from Judge McAllister on the plea that her house was her castle and that the law justified her in defending it. The incident caused much excitement in the city at the time, and Mayor Heath became yet more aggressive and was as unremittent in his attentions to the gamblers, whose houses he kept closed.
In 1877 a loud cry was raised against “bunko” and “bunko steerers,” and it was charged that this class of swindlers found victims in alarming numbers, and that the unsophisticated “stranger within the gates” was being guided to his financial ruin with great rapidity. On motion of Alderman Cullerton the mayor was instructed to appoint a special committee to ascertain if public gaming houses were tolerated in the city. His Honor named as such committee Aldermen Cullerton, Phelps and Waldo. The “bunko” men were subsequently thinned out by the police.
Carter H. Harrison succeeded Heath as mayor. The radical policy of his predecessor was not pursued by the new incumbent, and charges were constantly made by the press that gambling was rampant in the city.
Austin Doyle had been chief of police under Mayor Heath, and for a time filled the same position under his successor. The frequency of complaints by victims and the numerous and bitter attacks upon the administration in the public prints stimulated Mr. Doyle to take active measures toward suppressing the vice. Through his energetic tactics the houses were compelled to close their doors, and for a time public gaming came to an end. Doyle, however, was offered a responsible position in the employ of a private corporation, and resigned his public office. His successor did not meet with the same success in suppressing the nuisance.
Harrison served two terms and it is not too much to say that throughout the greater part of the four years during which he was mayor those who wished to encounter the “tiger in his lair” found little difficulty in gratifying their inclination.
Roche followed Harrison, holding the reigns of city government for two years. He owed his elevation to office in a large measure to the support which he received from the “law and order” element of the community, and was tacitly if not avowedly pledged to carry out their wishes. He soon began to make things interesting for the gamblers. They were given fair notice of his intentions and instructed to close. Those who failed to comply with his command soon discovered that the city’s executive meant what he had said and had the power to enforce[enforce] his behest. Public houses were forced to close their doors, and the city for a time enjoyed a comparative rest. Occasionally games were played at the hotels, private club rooms, and over saloons, but generally speaking it was a “hole-and-corner” sort of play, and it was by no means an easy matter to discover where the games were going on. The result was that many of the “sports” who had prospered during the years preceding, found themselves forced to seek “fresh fields and pastures new.”
When Roche’s name was presented to the public as that of a candidate for re-election the hostility of the fraternity toward him quickly found vent. His opponent, Cregier, received the support of the men who had learned to hate the administration which interfered with their business, and he was elected by a very decided majority. At the present time the number of gambling houses in the city may be said to be legion. The proprietors have taken leases of the premises for two years, in some cases giving the previous tenants a bonus to move out; removing partitions, enlarging entrances, building new stairways, and otherwise intimating their belief that, for a time at least, they cherish no apprehension of molestation. Raids are infrequent, although, occasionally, a few Mongolians are captured while playing “bung-loo,” and once in a while a squad of negroes is taken to the station as a punishment for being detected in playing “crap.” The larger houses suffer but little from police interference. When a raid is made on one of these establishments, the officers placidly await the coming of the patrol wagon while the players escape through a convenient window or sky-light. Enough “pluggers” are captured to fill one or two wagons and are driven to the nearest police station with much clatter and display. The proprietors promptly bail out their employes, and the next morning pay the small fines imposed upon them. Within an hour or two after the descent of the police the game is again in full operation.
Some idea of the success which attends public gaming houses in Chicago at the present time may be formed from a consideration of the fact that the largest and best patronized house has, on an average, forty men on its pay-roll; that sometimes twenty games are in full blast at one time; and that the estimated net winnings of its owners amount to $20,000 a month. To this place professionals are not admitted, it being found more remunerative to encourage the patronage of amateur players. So notorious is this fact that the habitués of this resort are commonly termed the “dinner pail brigade.”