A San Franciscan will bet on anything, from a dog fight in the street, to a presidential[presidential] election. Boys that are hardly out of dresses bet cigarette picture cards on their fighting or foot-racing abilities, while their elders are equally willing to risk their money on more important sporting events. For the past eighteen months, the various athletic clubs have been giving monthly exhibitions; that is, glove fights to a finish, between professional pugilists, for large purses. The result is, that the city is overrun with prize-fighters of all degrees of ability. The law on the subject of prize fighting has been so construed that fights to a finish, in an athletic club room where no liquor is sold and not less than five ounce gloves are used, cannot be interfered with. Of these clubs, the California is the most aristocratic and wealthy. Here, on exhibition nights, may be seen, seated around the ring, judges, lawyers, bankers, merchants, railroad magnates, doctors and college professors. None are above attending any meeting which they think will be a good one. At the recent meeting between Dempsey and La Blanche it is estimated that not less than the sum of $40,000,000 was represented by those at the ring side. The betting on that fight reached into the scores of thousands, and so it is with every branch of sports and games. If two men play a game of billiards and are evenly matched, they generally play for a stake besides the price of the game.
With the development of the world-famous Comstock silver lode in 1860, there sprang up in California an entirely new mode of gambling; that of speculating in mining stocks. These mines are located in Story County, Nevada, and Virginia City arose in their midst almost in a night, like a mushroom; speedily developing into a rushing speculative town of 100,000 inhabitants, and almost as rapidly sinking back into that most hopeless of all conditions of decay, a “worked-out” mining camp, its present population numbering less than four thousand souls. The chief operations were carried on in the Golden City where two mining boards were arranged—the San Francisco and the Pacific—with branches in Virginia City. Every reported “strike” of ore was telegraphed to San Francisco, and the stock of that mine soared out of sight, only to drop back again at the next report and leave penniless hundreds of people, who, a few hours before, were worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. The veriest “wild cat” mine in the state had its stock listed, although not an hour’s work had ever been done toward developing it. This stock was sold as readily as that of the well known mines, but not at such high figures. Men became fabulously rich one day, and were sunk equally as deep in poverty the next. San Francisco can never forget the fever of excitement when the public pulse beat at fever heat, and every nerve was strained to its utmost. Laborers forgot to buy food for their families in their mad desire to possess a few shares of stock; servant girls neglected their duties in dreaming of sudden riches. Men rushed, shouted and acted like lunatics all day long, while high bred ladies sat in their carriages in front of their brokers’ offices hour after hour, in a frenzy of excitement, deluging the overtaxed clerks with orders for stock. What old Californian will pretend he was not half insane when “Ophir” (par value $100), touched $2,000 a share? Where could the poor man be found in 1874, when “Consolidated Virginia” and “California” jumped to $1,400? They were plentiful enough, however, after the break. The craze continued until 1878, when “Sierra Nevada” reached $800, and with the decline of that stock came a return of sober sense. Since then, the times have been gradually failing in their resources, and the speculative fever has subsided, until, at present, mining stocks cut no figure whatever in the finances of the state. Some of the old timers who can get money enough to buy a few shares, still hang around the boards, half of whose seats, which fifteen years ago could not be bought for $10,000 cash, are now deserted and are not worth anything. There is no outside capital to speak of going into mining stocks and in a few years they will exist only in memory.
The results of this madness were fearful. Hundreds of men and women were driven to suicide by their losses, while the insane asylums were filled to overflowing with victims of the stock-gambling mania. Such excitement has never been seen in any other place in the world and it is to be hoped that it will never again be witnessed. There is scarcely an old Californian who has not made money out of the stocks, but only a handful were enriched. Flood, O’Brien, Mackay and Fair owned the mines and controled the stock which was manipulated to suit their desires, and the result is that they, together with the late Senator Sharon, William Ralston, J. R. Keene and two or three others got all the money. At present, if a stock touches $10 a share, there is a decided flurry among the “chippers” and “mud hens” as the men and women are respectively termed who persist in hanging around the board rooms and losing what little money they have. The average quotations for mining stocks are from twenty-five cents from outside mines, from $3 to $4 for the big Comstock mines.
Outside of the two mining boards, there is little stock speculation in San Francisco. There are the Board Exchange and the Produce Exchange, transactions on the floors of both of which are governed by New York and London quotations. The ratio of legitimate to purely speculative trading on the San Francisco Exchange is as one to forty.
Policy playing is practiced but little in San Francisco. An attempt was made by an element of the negro population to introduce it, but it failed to acquire popularity, even with that race, while for the whites it has utterly failed to exercise any fascination whatever—a fact which affords a striking commentary upon the difference which the influence of climate and of race have exerted upon the two cities of San Francisco and New Orleans, both fanned by the breezes originating in the tropics; the fevered heat of one is assuaged by the Gulf Stream, while the feet of the other are laved by the Japan current.
The progress of Chinese gambling in San Francisco has made such rapid strides that it is an impossibility to determine its extent at the present time. The Chinese are born gamblers and no measures, however severe, can deter them from playing at any of their favorite games of chance. The authorities have resorted to all sorts of expedients to break up the vice, yet new gambling dens are constantly springing up in the Chinese quarters of the city. This in a measure is owing to the mildness of the penalties affixed by the law, although it has been charged and proven, time and again, that the patrolmen in the Chinese quarters receive a regular stipend from the owners of gambling dens, to close their eyes to the games. They are also regular patrons of the Chinese lottery. The Chinese do not fear punishment, inasmuch as the extreme penalty for lottery, fan-tan, dominoes, or dice playing, is six months’ imprisonment, while the penalty actually meted out by the police judges rarely exceed a fine of $20 with the alternative of twenty days’ confinement. One-half of the Chinese population of this city, it is safe to say, would be willing to pass six months in jail merely to save their living expenses. Time is no object to them. Then again, it is extremely difficult to convict one of the race of any crime. They have not the slightest respect for an oath, while their appearance is so similar that they will exchange places with each other and the arresting officer cannot identify them.
The variety of games played by the Chinese is small, but they succeed in winning and losing large sums of money. Lottery, fan-tan, dominoes and dice are the only games played. Since the Mongolian has gained such a foot-hold in California, the vices of the Asiatic race have spread to an alarming extent among the white people, especially in San Francisco. White opium smokers, male and female, are almost as numerous as are the Chinese, and the majority of their gambling dens are supported by Caucasians. On the lottery game alone, it is estimated by competent judges that fully $8,000 is played in every twenty-four hours by the whites alone.
The Chinese lottery game is perfectly “square,” and is highly interesting. There are in this city ten different companies, each conducting a separate game, but all on the same principle. To understand the game thoroughly, one must start at the beginning and follow its workings to the end. Let us enter one of the hundreds of agencies that are scattered throughout the city with but little attempt at concealment, and purchase a ticket. These agencies are generally located in the rear of a Chinese curio shop, tea store or clothing establishment, but many laundries act as agents as well as the low saloons kept by whites along the Barbary Coast, the worst quarter of the city. The visitor upon calling for a ticket and naming the company in which he wishes to play, such as the Wing Lay Chow, Tut Yut, etc., is presented with a piece of manilla paper about four inches square. On this is a double line drawn through the center. Eighty Chinese characters are printed on this sheet, forty above and forty below the line. The player can invest any amount of money from ten cents to twenty dollars in this ticket, the winning being regulated according to the amount invested and the number of spots “caught.” We will invest the first named amount in a ticket and play it “straight;” that is, mark off ten spots. The agent then goes over the spots marked with a small brush and carmine ink. He also marks on the margin the value of the ticket, and gives the player a duplicate, retaining the original. The drawings are held at the company’s headquarters, twice a day, the first at three o’clock in the afternoon, and the second at ten o’clock at night. On one of the walls of the room in which the drawing takes place is a large black-board, to which are attached eighty pieces of paper, about two inches square, each one bearing a character corresponding to the one of those on the tickets. Each company has a different set of characters that mean almost anything. It may be a Chinese poem, or simply a collection of odd expressions. They have no significance further than that they correspond with the Arabic numerals used by the whites. On a table in front of the black-board are placed four large earthen bowls, numbered 1, 2, 3 and 4. At the hour for the drawing to take place, in the presence of a crowd of spectators the pieces of paper on the board are taken down, one at a time, crumpled in the hand and thrown into a bowl; that is, the first piece goes into number 1, the second into number 2, and so on, passing in rotation from 1 to 4, until all the papers have been distributed, twenty in each bowl. A large earthen vessel with a small opening at the top is then brought out, and in it are placed four pieces of paper marked 1, 2, 3,4, in Chinese characters. A Chinaman is then blindfolded and placing his hand in the dish draws out one of the numbers. For instance, he draws number one. Immediately bowls 2, 3 and 4 are removed and the lottery manipulator turns his attention to the remaining bowl. He places a lottery ticket before him and proceeds to draw out, one by one, the twenty slips of paper, marking off the corresponding number on the ticket with a brush. When this has been completed, he exhibits the ticket of the official drawing. Thousands of copies are immediately struck off and distributed among the agents, who cash their customers’ winnings. Now, to ascertain how a winning is made. Let us suppose that five of the spots which have been painted red on our ticket have been marked out in the drawing; that pays us twenty cents or doubles our investment. Six spots pay $3.25, while, if we are fortunate enough to have all ten of our spots come in the drawing, we win $297. It is a peculiar fact that, although there are thousands of whites who are perfectly familiar with the schedule[schedule] of rates, nobody has been able to figure out any basis for the calculation of the Chinese. A white man may know what amount a ten-cent eight-spot pays, or a fifty-cent ten-spot, or in fact any of the many combinations, but nobody can explain the computation by which these amounts have been computed. This is the Chinese game of lottery, and thousands of dollars are invested in it every day by almost every grade of society, for the dainty lady lying in her hammock will send her Chinese servant out for tickets, which she amuses herself in marking; the staid business man invests slyly, the mechanic and laborer spends ten or fifteen cents a day tempting the Mongolian goddess of fortune, while the outcasts, male and female, play in, the greater portion of their ill-gotten gains in this fascinating game of chance.
The favorite game among the Chinese is fan-tan, or simple odd or even. Like lottery, it is played in this manner: A large square piece of matting is spread upon a table. In the center of the matting is painted a smaller square, each side being about ten inches long. The banker or dealer places two or three handfuls of small ivory buttons in the center of this square. A bell-shaped brass cup is then placed over this pile of buttons, some being left on the outside of the cup. The players simply wager any amount which they may choose on the odd or even number. In case the bettor loses, the amount of his stake is taken by the banker or “house;” should he win, he receives the sum bet minus a small percentage. In theory this game is perfectly fair, but as in almost every gambling game, sharpers have introduced a fake element, whereby the result may be manipulated. In counting the buttons, a small wooden or ivory stick is used. Inventive genius has come to the aid of the proprietor, and a stick is sometimes used which is capable of holding two or three buttons hidden from sight. If the banker wishes to add a button to the pile, he presses a spring and drops one.
In the Chinese game of dominoes, every essential respect is identical with that played among the whites. It is, however, played among the Mongolians for money to a far larger extent than among the Caucasians. In the Chinese quarter of San Francisco, it is no uncommon sight to see, running through the center of a filthy, dimly lighted, ill-smelling room a long table, on both sides of which are ranged a motley crowd of noisy Celestials, handling dominoes with lightning-like rapidity. In fact, the celerity of the play constitutes one of the chief points of difference between Chinese and American games. From time to time the losers pass across the table a portion of their hard-earned money. The stakes, however, in this, as in all other Chinese games, are unusually small; the result being that a Mongolian gamester finds it possible, with very little capital, to prolong his excitement throughout an entire night.