Light Come, Light Go: Gambling—Gamesters—Wagers—The Turf

by Ralph Nevill

The armed force which the Princes maintained was much improved in uniform and equipment when M. Blanc brought prosperity to Monaco. Even up to quite recent years there existed a smart little army of something under a hundred men, in all probability the best dressed and least offensive troops in all Europe. Their rifle practice, it was always said, was indifferent, owing to the fact that they could not fire inland, because the boundaries of the Principality were so limited; but whatever may have been their efficiency or non-efficiency as a fighting force, their light-blue uniforms—with old-world aiguillette, neat shako, and picturesque cape—were highly ornamental features, which struck a pleasant note of colour in the streets of the Condamine or about the grounds and terraces of the Casino.

This little army is now but a memory, for within the last decade the reigning Prince, who is a warm advocate of International Arbitration, realising, it is said, that the maintenance of a standing army was inconsistent with his well-known love of peace, abolished the last relic of military strength left to the Grimaldis. Such sentries as are still required are at present furnished by the gendarmerie, whose dainty cocked hat—most military and attractive of head-dresses—was at the same time superseded by an abominable cloth-covered helmet, which for unalloyed ugliness would easily carry off the prize against all competitors. Thus does it constantly happen in the modern world that, whilst there is much prating about art, cultivation, and taste, the very people who should do their best to preserve every distinctive and decorative reminder of a more artistic past are foremost in the work of obliteration.

Old Monaco consisted of a few unattractive streets and a somewhat dilapidated Palace, in which lived the blind old Prince who granted the concession for the tables to M. Blanc, and by so doing converted his poverty-stricken realm into the most prosperous State in the world.

At first, the Prince was somewhat troubled by conscientious scruples as to tolerating gaming, but these were appeased by the large sums which were rendered available for religious purposes and the building of churches—the Church of St. Dévote, which stands in the ravine, for instance, is said to have been erected from funds received in exchange for permission to increase the number of roulette tables, whilst the beautiful little cathedral on the Palace rock would never have been built had not M. Blanc made his descent upon the Principality.

Much abuse has been lavished on the Prince for granting the concession, but it seems a doubtful question whether he did not do more good than harm when he signed it. Certainly his own people of Monaco (who, except on one day in the year—the Prince's birthday,—are not allowed to enter the Casino) gained very largely thereby.

To them the establishment of the Casino has brought lasting prosperity, whilst it has indirectly benefited the whole Riviera, now so popular as a pleasure-resort. On the other hand, a number of people, no doubt, have been ruined at Monte Carlo, but such as these—gamblers at heart—would most probably in any case have lost their fortune in other forms of speculation. It should also be realised that the number of those who have actually been ruined by the Casino is extremely small—as a rule those who lose their last penny at the tables are individuals who, already at their last gasp owing to a long series of gambling reverses, come to Monte Carlo with such funds as they can scrape together in order to indulge in one last desperate plunge.

The old Prince was a kindly man at heart, and did not like to think of visitors losing more money than they had actually brought with them. For this reason he forbade the establishment of any Bank in the Principality, and as a natural consequence, numbers of waiters, who carried on a brisk business in money-lending, made nice little fortunes.

In later years Smith's Bank was established on French territory; this was afterwards absorbed into the Crédit Lyonnais, which (the prohibition having been revoked) is now quite a prominent feature of Monte Carlo.

At the time when M. Blanc made his peaceful conquest of Monaco the place was sparsely populated and miserably poor. The contrast indeed between the Monaco of fifty years ago and the Monte Carlo of to-day is striking in the extreme.