The main cause of the French Government moving in the matter of gambling at all had been the large increase of so-called gambling clubs in Paris entirely devoted to single tableau baccarat, from which an enormous harvest of gold had been gathered by those holding the banks. It was said that no less than 126 new establishments of this kind had sprung up in Paris, a state of affairs calculated to make the dead proprietors of the long-suppressed and very strictly regulated tables in the old Palais Royal turn in their graves. Many of these Clubs were frequented by women, and it was rumoured that many of the brightest stars of the French demi-monde had lost almost everything they had. Paris began to be seriously alarmed. Drastic measures were adopted; the foreign proprietors of the gaming-places expelled from France; "La Faucheuse" forbidden throughout the country; and gambling generally placed upon the strictly regulated footing which has been described. The results of the very sensible action of the French Government appear to be highly satisfactory, for since the promulgation of the decree regulating play no scandals have occurred, whilst it is anticipated that in the course of time a sum well over two million pounds a year will be available for objects of public utility.
Surely the wise regulation of what appears to be an irradicable evil is far more salutary, alike from a financial and a moral point of view, than the unthinking policy of drastic suppression, which, as experience teaches, has ever been powerless to extirpate gambling.
The Principality of Monaco—Its vicissitudes—Early days of the Casino—The old Prince and his scruples—Monte Carlo in 1858 and 1864—Its development—Fashionable in the 'eighties—Mr. Sam Lewis and Captain Carlton Blythe—Anecdotes—Increase of visitors and present democratic policy of administration—The Cercle Privé and its short life—The gaming-rooms and ways of their frequenters—Anecdotes—Trente-et-quarante and roulette—Why the cards have plain white backs—Jaggers' successful spoliation of the bank—The croupiers and their training—The staff of the Casino—The viatique—Systems—The best of all.
Many years before the tables at the German resorts were closed by the Prussian Government, M. Blanc was quietly seeking for a suitable spot where his roulette wheels might whirl free from interference and his croupiers deal in unmolested peace.
Gaming-house proprietors seem in one respect to resemble the monks of old, for almost invariably their establishments have been pitched amidst attractive surroundings commanding lovely views. Thoroughly imbued with this tradition, M. Blanc eventually selected the little Principality of Monaco as being a suitable spot to afford his industry a peaceful and alluring haven. After certain negotiations with the reigning Prince Charles Albert, he obtained the required concession, and a Casino (in its earliest days called the "Elysium Alberti") was erected upon the rocky ground known as the Plateau des Spelugues, which, adversaries of gaming will rejoice to learn, means in Monagasque patois "the plain of the robbers."
The ruling family of Monaco, the Grimaldis, had been exposed to many vicissitudes. During the French Revolution their people rose in rebellion and plundered the Palace, which afterwards served as a military hospital during Napoleon's Italian campaign, and later on became the Dépôt de Mendicité for the Department of the Alpes Maritimes. In 1841, however, Florestan I., the reigning Prince, repaired the home of his ancestors, which was thoroughly restored by Charles Albert after the advent of M. Blanc.
In the turbulent past the Princes of Monaco at times experienced considerable difficulty in holding their own, and often had to defend their rugged old rock against piratical raids, besides occasionally having to cope with internal troubles, the last of which occurred in 1847, when the Monagasque bitterly resented taxation. The cannon given by Louis XIV. to the Grimaldi of his day may still be seen near the palace. These are fine specimens of the founder's craft, and bear the grim motto "Ultima ratio regum," amidst much ornate decoration.