“Policy” is played to a large extent in the city, and seemingly with but little fear of the law. The head-quarters for this form of gambling is in a little room, opening off the side walk on Front Street. Anyone passing can see through the open door, the black-board on which are posted the numbers at every drawing. James Waldron, formerly of New York, a short, thick-set man, about 40 years of age, is at the head of the operations in Hartford. Besides the place on Front Street, he has another on Gold Street, and yet a third on Asylum Street. In the Front Street place is kept a large flat book, in which is recorded every drawing for the entire year. This is open to the inspection of all players who are permitted to trace in its pages the history of any number throughout the year—i. e. ascertain how many drawings have occurred since it last come first, etc. The numbers are received twice a day by cypher dispatches. Apparently everything is “square,” but the chances are enormously against the player. This is the most popular of all games with the colored population. It would seem as though every member of that race in Hartford played policy. There is also a considerable class of superstitious whites who firmly believe in “lucky” numbers. Once in a while some one “strikes” a lucky number, but no considerable amount is ever made.
Charter Oak Park, just outside the city limits, is the scene of the fall race meetings in the grand circuit. Roulette is played on the grounds on these occasions, without the slightest restraint and in full view of the police. The games do an immense business through “race week,” not less than two wheels and five tables were in full blast at a recent meeting.
There is a stock exchange in the city and some speculative operations are carried on, but not to any great extent. Hartford is too near New York to permit of the business being profitable.
On the whole, it may be said, that as compared with fifteen or even ten years ago, there is very little gambling in the city. Professional gamesters[gamesters] have to “lie low” and keep extremely quiet in Hartford. At the same time, there is, as has been said, considerable poker playing, while probably there are two or three faro banks still in operation. There are no municipal ordinances against gambling, all actions are brought under the State Statutes.
GAMBLING IN QUEBEC.
Quebec being a city of only some 60,000 souls, the vice of public gambling has never been able to obtain any very firm foothold. A large amount of money changes hands here every year at games of chance, and amongst the most confirmed gamesters are many of the most prominent citizens. Yet so thoroughly does everybody know his neighbor’s business that no attempt has been made of late years to open and maintain a public gambling resort. Much of the playing for stakes in Quebec takes place in private residences, or in rooms secured for the purpose in the principal hotels and restaurants. In the principal club—the Garrison—gambling of every kind is strictly prohibited and nothing but whist is played.
Banking games are not popular, and faro, roulette and hazard are not played at all. Poker is the prevailing game and of late years, and has taken a strong hold upon the French-Canadian population, who evince an unusual aptitude for it. So long as they have in reserve a fair supply of “chips,” French-Canadian poker players excel at the game of “bluff.” They possess in a remarkable degree the effrontry[effrontry] and cool “cheek” necessary to successful poker playing for which they manifest a predilection almost from childhood. Professionals and merchants alike gamble at night at their clubs or at each others residences, and students and clerks, imitating the practices of their employers and elders, assemble for the same purpose in each other’s rooms.[other’s rooms.] A well-known Canadian politician, confided to the writer that at the early age of ten years he had become so infatuated with poker that he used to steal money from his father’s pockets with which to play. The ruin of numerous bank clerks and others formerly occupying respectable positions in the city, may be distinctly traced to this cause.
The principal center of gambling in Quebec is undoubtedly the “Quebec Whist Club,” an institution occupying comfortable quarters over Rogers’ drug store,—the Medical Hall on Fabrique Street. It has been in existence for nearly twenty years past, but has several times removed its location. There is nothing “professional,” however, about this organization. Its name is, of course, simply a cloak for the real object of its existence. It is controlled on a sort of mutual plan by the resident frequenters of the place, and strangers and visitors are only admitted after introduction by a member. The game almost universally played is poker, and the stakes may be either unlimited or for a limit varying from two to five dollars. The game played here is usually “straight,” in the ordinary acceptation of the term, but the older habitues of the place, some of whom have no other visible means of support, are such adepts at the game, and, in the particular species of mind and character reading so essential to a successful player, that unless struck by a particularly hard strain of bad luck, they seldom rise from the table losers at the game should such a misfortune by any chance overtake them. They know only too well, by long experience, that the winners of their money will quickly return to lose it again.[again.] There are not wanting those who claim to believe that the more experienced of these frequenters of the “club” never play against each other except as a “blind,” but combine to “raise” strangers out of the game and divide their profits. Many well-to-do business men frequent the club, including newspaper proprietors, importers, wholesale merchants, hotel men, piano dealers and jewelers. Few of these, however, continue to play at the resort for year after year, unless in a very occasional way, for the amount of loss eventually sustained by them would either seriously impair their business standing or compel them to abandon the game until they can again legitimately afford to risk further means in playing it.
The number of men who have been wholly or partially ruined by poker in Quebec is large. An ex-member of parliament, formerly a resident of that city, but at present of Montreal, has lost a fortune at the game, frequently dropping as much as $1,500 a night. The continual harvest reaped by the habitual frequenters of the club above mentioned is maintained by the infusion of new blood through the introduction of new members, who are generally selected from among those who are known to be possessed of some means, and of speculative, if not gaming proclivities. If such are not known to be poker players they are, perhaps, invited to the rooms in the first instance, by a friend, for the nominal purpose of partaking of refreshments, to which may be added the prospect of enjoying a rubber of whist. The excitement, glitter and attraction of the poker tables are counted upon, and generally correctly, to prove a sufficient temptation to green players to risk a few dollars upon a small limit game, “just for amusement.” The downward course of the visitor, like the descent of Avernus, is thenceforward comparatively easy. Half a dozen members of parliament and as many members of the city council have been counted in these apartments at the same time. Quebec does not by any means supply all the victims. A sharp lookout is kept for visitors with money and gambling tendencies, though occasionally the habitues “catch a tartar,” and get “hoist by their own petard,” through occasionally admitting an unknown blackleg. This does not very often happen, however, as may be easily supposed, in view of the long experience of the older members. They are usually careful, moreover, in admitting only men of prominence or of recognized standing in professions, political or commercial circles, or who are personally known to some of the regular members of the club.