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

by Ralph Nevill

One of these, now dead, said to the writer: "I have regularly taken a villa here for years, and with hardly an exception have lost the sum which I set apart for gaming every year; but I do not regret it. The amount of amusement which I have obtained has been well worth the money. I might, it is true, have kept a yacht which I should have hated, or taken a shooting which would have been little to my taste. I might, in fact, have spent the money in various ways which would have thoroughly bored me—on the whole I am well content."

Another well-known high player, who from time to time has lost large sums at Monte Carlo, once declared that he considered the money well invested. "Many a large landowner," said he, "is not as lucky as I have been, for he is obliged to spend a large sum every year on the upkeep of his estate for which he obtains nothing in return. I, at least, have had a great deal of amusement."

To this it may be objected that the money which goes into the coffers of the Casino benefits no one—but this is not strictly true, for the shares are held by all sorts of people, who draw their profits in the same way as from any industrial enterprise.

In the 'eighties there were many less hotels than at present and not a great number of villas, whilst the Café de Paris, which has since been rebuilt in an enlarged form, was about the only restaurant apart from the dining-rooms in the hotels. The Gallery, now filled with shops, which is such a favourite morning resort, had not yet come into existence, and except the admirable band in the Casino (which gave two performances a day, free) there was little music in Monte Carlo—a spot which now rings from morning till late at night with the strains of Tzigane bands.

After the tables were closed—at eleven—there were no amusements at all, and, instead of sitting up half the night, every one went to bed—contentedly or discontentedly, as they had won or lost.

The gambling-rooms were much quieter in those days, the flocks of German excursionists having not yet arrived. Many of these visitors, as a rule somewhat undesirable from a decorative point of view, are divided up into little coteries or bands, each of which elects a leader who is entrusted with such funds as the party is desirous of risking at the tables, where the leader alone stakes for all, winnings or losings being divided in proportionate shares.

Of late years the crowds round the gambling-tables have increased to such an extent that except in the early morning or during dinner-time it is impossible to make certain of obtaining a seat. Formerly two or three old men of solemn aspect were always to be found sitting at the trente-et-quarante marking down the run of the game, and on a louis being unostentatiously slipped into their hand they would at once yield up their seat. Of late years, however, they are no longer to be seen, the Administration having banished them from the Casino, much to the discomfort of habitual players desirous of risking substantial sums under comfortable conditions. In old days far more attention was paid in a great many other small ways to visitors who had the appearance of belonging to the upper strata of society. To these the croupiers and other officials made a point of being especially obliging and polite.

The authorities of the Casino, however, seem now to have decided on a more democratic policy, no favour being shown to any one. From a financial point of view this is probably not unsound, a vast number of small players, who drop a certain amount of five-franc pieces and then depart to make way for others, being probably more profitable to the bank than a few heavy gamblers, some of whom may hit it very severely.

It is more than likely that scarcely one in fifty of the individuals who sit with a pile of silver beside the roulette wheel goes away a winner, whereas amongst the high gamblers at trente-et-quarante success is not so rare as is usually supposed. The proof of what has been stated was furnished by the brief existence of the "Cercle Privé"—a new gaming-room which for a short time was highly appreciated by frequenters of Monte Carlo some seven or eight years ago.

The "Cercle Privé" was open only at night in a room upstairs, and men alone enjoyed the privilege of being allowed to play there. There were four tables, three trente-et-quarante and one roulette, a small bar where refreshments could be obtained, smoking was permitted, and the tables, which did not commence operations till the ones downstairs had closed, were kept going very late.