The appointments and fittings of these houses were of such a character that only the higher classes of society were desired as patrons. McGrath, who occupied No. 4, Carondelet street, afterwards known as the Boston club (a social organization founded by private gentlemen for their own diversion) spent $75,000 to $100,000 in furniture for his place; while Lauraine and Cassidy, who had a place opposite the St. Charles Hotel, and who set the finest supper in the city, boasted of a solid silver service, including dishes and plates, unequalled in the South. Other famous gambling houses of that day, though not so well known as some of those already mentioned, were kept by Sam Levy and “Count” Lorenzo Servri (who received his sobriquet because of his polished manners and faultless apparel) and Martino, whose place was located on Canal street, near Carondelet. Besides these were numerous other “club houses,” where the visitor paid fifty cents an hour, and was entitled to refreshments free of cost, which included a well cooked dinner with claret ad libitum, besides being permitted to gamble at poker.
At all the gaming houses play was high, and wherever there was a limit it was generally removed by the proprietor if the patrons requested it. A prominent Greek merchant, representing in New Orleans one of the largest commercial houses in the world, played there night after night, losing $80,000 in a single evening, his total losses footing up a round half million, which caused the suspension of the house whose representative he was.
In addition to these establishments, nearly all of the many steamboats plying between New Orleans and the various river points, were in themselves gambling houses. A class of gamblers travelled up and down the river on these boats. Their saloons were given up almost wholly to card playing. The principal games were Boston and Poker, the latter being played without limit. Bets from $10,000 to $25,000 were frequently made on a single hand, and one of $50,000 is recorded. When cash ran out lands and slaves were wagered.
The ante-bellum games were nearly all “square” and the gamblers were usually of better social standing than those of later days. Davis, McGrath and Petitt[Petitt], in particular, were looked upon as gentlemen, and were admitted anywhere, their profession not standing in the way of their social advancement. Augustus Lauraine was excluded from polite circles, not because he was a gambler but for the reason that he had violated one of the principles of the “code,” in other words, he failed to pay a gambler’s debt.
The immediate result of the war was to break up nearly all the New Orleans gaming houses. Most of the gamblers were enthusiastic confederates. The action of Petitt in equipping a company has been already mentioned. Martino went to Richmond, where he opened a house, but there was not much to be made out of confederate currency and he gave so liberally to the sick and destitute soldiers that his venture brought him no profit. It was not until 1862, when the city was in the hands of the United States forces under General Butler, that gaming again revived.
Through the favor of Col. Butler—a brother of the General—Bryant, one of the best known and oldest gamblers in New Orleans, and who had kept one of the “supper rooms” in the days before the war, was permitted to open a gambling house at the corner of Exchange Alley and Bienville street; and Fulton, a new comer, opened one a square lower down the same street. These resorts opened off the street and access was free to all comers except private soldiers, the semi-military control under which they were placed drawing the line here. Officers, however, who were plentifully supplied with money, played freely and, of course, lost heavily. But gross scandals resulted, and in 1864 General Hurlbut, by military order, directed that they be closed. Martial law proved singularly effective in this instance, and until the revocation of the order (which came in a few weeks)[weeks)], public gaming was at a stand still. This was an era in the city’s history, and, with the exception of a period when the District Attorney arrested and prosecuted all the gamblers in New Orleans, was the only time when gambling was completely suppressed. At all other times it has been either protected or tolerated by the authorities; carried on openly under license from the State or city, or conducted clandestinely, through bribery of the officials. In fact, public sentiment has generally either favored it or, at most, been disposed to regard it as a necessary evil.
After the war there was manifest a disposition to return to the old license system, under which the state received a portion of the gamblers’ winnings. One of the arguments in its favor was that the Havana lottery was taking more money out of Louisiana every month than all the gamblers in New Orleans combined, and as a matter of fact that city was as good a market for the sale of these tickets as Havana itself. In addition to regular lottery offices and ticket peddlers, every tobacconist was an agent for their sale. Tradition recorded the names of eleven winners of capital prizes. It is true that the old citizens (all of whom were devout believers in “luck”) were accustomed to wag their beards and sagely declare that riches thus acquired took to themselves wings and flew away, but they nevertheless “played lottery” every month, with the regularity of clock work, and eagerly awaited the receipt of the list of drawings, which in those days was brought from Havana to New Orleans by carrier pigeons.
The legislature of Louisiana determined to enter the field in competition with the Governor General of Cuba, and endeavored to secure at least its fair share of the business. Accordingly, in 1866, a law was passed requiring lottery ticket brokers and peddlers to take out a license, and turn over to the State five per cent. of their gross receipts. This, however, did not produce as large a revenue to the State as had been expected, as the dealers disposed of their tickets surreptitiously, and in 1868, the legislature enacted the Louisiana State Lottery, exacting a bonus of $40,000 a year, and gave it a monopoly of the business, prohibiting the sale of tickets in the Havana, or any other foreign lottery.
This plan proving successful, the legislature went a step further and determined to license gambling also. On March 9, 1869, a law was passed, empowering every one to open a public gaming saloon, who would pay a license fee of $5,000. (It had been $7,500 under the law of 1832). The payment of the money was the sole condition imposed by the law. No restriction was placed upon the games to be played nor was any distinction drawn between “square” and “brace” houses. Protection was guaranteed in the form of a promise to close and keep closed all unlicensed houses.
The new law was in force but a short time. It caused general dissatisfaction, and its repeal has been attributed to the moral sentiment of the community. This, however, is an error. While the great majority of the people of New Orleans were shocked at the result, this mattered little to the legislature, one of the most notoriously corrupt bodies which Louisiana has ever seen; and had not the gamblers themselves appealed to it, to repeal the law which recognized and licensed their business, it would have continued for many years.