GAMBLING IN HARTFORD, CONN.
In 1849 there was published in Hartford a book entitled, “The History of the Green Family.” It was an expose of the night side (and the worst side) of Hartford life at that time. Its quaint title page describes it as a work “wherein the citizens of Hartford are raked over from Lord’s Hill to Ferry Street.” Incidents, names, dates and localities are mentioned with an attention to detail as surprising as it is pitiless. A vigorous effort was made by the “good people” of the city whose peccadilloes were thus mercilessly exposed to suppress the volume, and at the present time there are only one or two copies in existence. The writer, however, has been permitted to examine one of these, and accorded the privilege of making notes.
Gambling, as a profession, was not at that time carried on to nearly so great an extent as in later years. But the gamester, the blackleg, the men who lived by their wits and fleeced unsophisticated victims were even then known and described. The “Climax,” a locally celebrated gaming house, then flourished on Ferry Street and was kept by “Nels” Hulburt, is mentioned. A bowling alley and a bar were connected with it. All the ordinary games of cards were played, “old sledge” being an especial favorite. “Nels,” or his partner, Weeks, generally took a hand and the “house” did a prosperous business. This resort divided with the Clinton House the patronage of nearly all the players, both professional and occasional, among whom are mentioned Caruthers, a man named Judd, and a confidence operator known as Dan Osburn. “Nels” also had a place on Mulbury Street.
Gambling steadily increased in Hartford, attaining the culmination of its popularity during and just after the war. Names and dates can be obtained only through a long and tedious search through court and police records, but the following general statements are made on the authority of a veteran officer, who for more than a score of years has been connected with the Hartford police. From about 1862 till 1877, gaming ran riot. Houses in which large capital was invested were conducted with scarcely a pretense of secrecy, and the profits of the proprietors were enormous. Almost any one who wanted to “do” the city by night could visit in the course of an evening half a dozen places where roulette was in active operation and twice as many where poker and faro were being played. The famous gambler, Pat Sheedy, was a native of Hartford. A perfect gentleman in manners and dress, yet a most reckless player, he was apparently equally content to win or lose a fortune in an evening. His “management” of John L. Sullivan is fresh in the memory of the public, as is also the story of his large winnings at roulette in a Saratoga resort less than a year ago. He occasionally appears in Hartford, and his goings and comings are duly noted in the local press.
But to return to the history. A single incident will show something of the magnitude of the gaming operations in the sixties and early seventies.
A large fire on Temple Street, almost within a stone’s throw of the Police station, during the winter of 1872, burned out an extensive gambling[gambling] establishment. The “lay-outs” for faro and roulette were flung out of the window. All the tables, dice boxes, counters, chips, the roulette wheel, etc., were of the most costly description, The police gathered up the debris, and a conservative estimate affixed the value of the property thus sacrificed at $3,000.
From that time the police were more active. Raids became the rule rather than the exception, especially from 1879 to 1886. Two years ago, one of the last important visits by the officers was made, under supervision of Lieutenant Ryan, on a gaming house on Gold Street, kept by a man named McLean, who originally came from Meriden. He was running an extensive faro bank, with a gambling outfit worth about $600.
Not long afterwards a raid was made by the police upon a Chinese opium joint and gambling house on south Main Street, in the Buckingham block. About a dozen of the celestials were arrested, arraigned and convicted of gambling, and two were found guilty of keeping a gaming house. The game in progress at the time was played with dice and was a peculiar one. The player deposited any amount of money with the dealer, who gave him a receipt therefor. The game then went on until the bettor’s money was exhausted, or until he had won a stipulated amount, when he was at liberty to withdraw. Slips of cardboard were substituted for chips. There were found three Fan-Tan tables and six opium layouts in this place.
Poker has always been and still is played in Hartford; but not to nearly so great an extent at present as it was a few years ago. For years a game was running in the Times building. A dark, heavily mustached man who called himself Dr. Longley, kept the room. The police got after him and he was obliged to leave rather hastily. The game is played largely in what are popularly known as “club rooms.” However, even those are not doing a very brisk business just now. One can also easily get into a game in several of the fashionable billiard and bar rooms, such as “Mattie” Hewins’, or Dwight Mitchell’s on Main Street; or Frank Avary’s on State Street. Probably the heaviest poker playing in Hartford, however, is carried on at the Hartford Club House, on Prospect Street. This is where the older, wealthier and more aristocratic men play. The organization is a rather select one, and its roll of members includes some of the richest and best known men in town. It is in no sense a gambling house, yet at the same time there is a great deal of heavy betting across the social card tables.
So far as is known there is no roulette played in Hartford at present. The police have been too watchful for these gentlemen to prosper and they have sought other fields.